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THE
W H 0 L E W () R. KS
OF
ROBERT LEIGHT ON, D.D.,
ARCHBISHOP OF GLASGOW.
To which IS PREFIXED,
A L I FE OF T H E A U T H O R,
BY
JOHN NORMAN PEARSON, M.A.,
OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
Oāra, 6tºv kai dvdpárov detov kai sãatuóvov Bios, drax\ayh ráv #AAov ráv ráðe, 8tos dvíðoyos rév rjús,
pvyi, p.6vov rpós pºvov.–PLOTINI ENNEAD. 6 L. c. xi.
WITH A TABLE OF THE TEXTS OF SCRIPTURE,
A N D A N IN DE X 0 F THE SU B J E CTS,
COMPILED EXPRESSLY FOR THIS EDITION,
N E W Y O R K :
PUBLISHED BY J. C. RIKER, 129 F U L T ON ST.
PHIL AD EL PHIA: G E O R. G. E. S. APPLE TO N.
1846.
N 0 T I C E .
HAving determined to issue the most perfect edition which could possibly be com-
piled of the works of Archbishop LEIGHToN, it became an object of solicitude to pro-
cure the best European copies of his writings. Two editions, one published in London,
in 1835, and the other at Edinburgh, in 1840, were designated as the most approved
standard compilations. Upon a careful examination, however, it was discovered that
the London work comprised materials which were not inserted in the Edinburgh edi-
tion, and that the latter included some articles not found in the English copy. That
this American reprint, therefore, might not be defective, it was resolved to combine the
whole which was found in both series. This volume, therefore, is the only copy
which contains the entire literary remains of the renowned author.
But it was also perceived that both of the British editions exhibited a great defect.
Neither of them possessed any reference at all to the subjects which the learned theo-
logian had discussed; so that the reader was utterly at a loss to ascertain in what part
of the two volumes he must look for the illustration of either of the multifarious topics
which the writer had imbodied in his commentaries, exhortations, lectures, medita-
tions, sermons, and other expository discussions. This deficiency applied not only
to the texts of Scripture, but also to the themes; thus leaving the student in complete
perplexity, and depriving the reader of all that benefit which arises from the prompt
acquisition of the knowledge that might be attained: giving him useless labor in re-
search, and often wasting his time and toil for utter disappointment. To remedy
that defect, and to facilitate the utility and edification comprised in this most important
collection of theological disquisitions, and to render the work complete, two indexes
have been prepared expressly for this edition. The first is a table of the texts of
Scripture which are introduced, either as themes, or as corroborative proofs, which
latter use of them often is equivalent to a comment. The second is a comprehensive
and minute catalogue of all the principal subjects which are imbodied in the whole
series of Archbishop Leighton's works.
The Publisher was induced thus to enhance the value of this edition, by the eminent
rank which the Exposition of the First Epistle of Peter has attained—of which it has
been pronounced, that an expository work upon any portion of the sacred volume can
4 NOTICE.
not be named, which, for exalted devotion, and richness of evangelical sentiment,
equals the annotations of Leighton. Moreover, the pre-eminence of the author him-
self requires that his works should be presented to the American public in the most
complete form practicable. His matchless superiority over all his ecclesiastical con-
temporaries in Scotland, is known to all persons conversant with the history of the
stormy period during which he resided in that part of Britain; of which the Memoirs
prefixed, and the Appendix, display ample and convincing proof. Mr. Pearson's nar-
rative, and the addenda by Mr. Aikman, present to us a charming biographical por-
traiture ; with illustrations of the perilous times during which the Archbishop lived,
that enhance both the interest and value of the volume.
NEw York, June 13, 1844.
0 0 N T E N T S ,
PAGE.
Life of Archbishop Leighton. . . . . . . . . . . . . . º
Preface by Dr. Doddridge. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39
Commentary on the First Epistle of Peter... 63
124, 202,282,328
Meditations, critical and practical...357,365, 370
Fragment on Psalm vii. . . . . . . tº tº º tº e º e º e º 'º 381
Expository Lectures. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 385,392,404
Lectures on the Gospel by Matthew. . . . . . . 411
SERMONS.
I. Heavenly Wisdom. . . . . . . . . . . . . 441
II. The patient and docile Sufferer... 446
III. Divine Glory of Zion. . . . . . . . . . 450
IV. Christ the Light and Lustre of the
Church. . . . . © a e e º e . . . . . . . . . 454
W. Christ the Light and Lustre of the
Church. . . . . . . . . . . tº ºr º & © e º e . 459
WI. Hope amid Billows............ . 464
VII. Generous Grief... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 470
VIII. The name of Jesus fragrant..... 475
IX. The Sinner a Rebel against God 481
X. The true Christian the best Sub-
ject. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 484
XI. Grapes from Thorns. . . . . . . . . . . 490
XII. The Believer a Hero. . . . . . . . . . . 495
XIII. Parable of the Sower. . . . . . . . . . 500
XIV. The Promises an Encouragement
to Holiness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 503
XW. Grace and Obedience. . . . . . . . . . 505
XVI. Christian Triumph. . . . . . . . . . . 509
XVII. Christian Triumph. . . . . . . . . . . . 512
XVIII. Goodness of God, and the Wick-
edness of Man. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 515
XIX. Time to awake. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 519
XX. Observation of Providence. . . . . . 523
XXI. Imperfection and Perfection..... 527
XXII. Confidence of Faith. . . . . . . . . . . 531
XXIII. Spiritual Privileges. . . . . . . . . . . . 535
XXIV. Folly of Man, and the Teaching
of God..... ſº e º e º e ºn a • * * * * * e 541
XXV. Mercy despised, and the Contempt
punished . . . . . © a e s e e •,• e • * * * * . 545
XXVI. Confession and Prayer of Faith... 550
XXVII. Calamities cautiously interpreted 554
XXVIII. Present Duty..... © e s e e º 'º fº e e s a 558
XXIX. Love the fulfilling of the Law... 560
XXX. The Law written upon the Heart 562
XXXI. God’s End and Design in Affliction 564
XXXII. Suitable Exercise in Affliction. .. 569
Sermon preached to the Clergy. . . . . . . . . . . . 574
Exposition of the Creed....... tº e º 'o e e s e e s tº 581
Exposition of the Lord’s Prayer. . . . . . . . . . .
PAGE.
Exposition of the Ten Commandments..... 619
Short Catechism. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 643
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES... . . . . . 645
I. Introduction. . . . . . . . ... . . . . . . . ... 646
II. Happiness—the desire of it im-
planted in the human Heart... 649
III. Happiness of Man. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 650
IV. Human Felicity not in earthly
Things. . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º 'º e - ... 652
W. Immortality of the Soul......... 655
VI. Happiness of the Life to come... 658
VII. Being of God . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 660
VIII. Worship of God, Providence, and
the Law, given to Man. . . . . . . 664
IX. Pleasure and Utility of Religion... 666
X. Decrees of God..... © º e º e º & © ... 668
XI. Creation of the World. . . . . . . . . . 670
XII. Creation of Man. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 673
XIII. Providence. . . . . . . . . . . © e º e º e e e a 675
XIV. Christ the Savior. . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 680
XV. Regeneration. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 681
XVI. Regeneration. . . . . . . . . . to e s e º e e is 685
XVII. True Felicity and eternal Punish-
ment. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © tº e º e º c 688
XVIII. The Christian Religion the true
Way to Happiness . . . . . . . . . . 690
XIX. Holiness is the only Happiness on
this Earth. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 693
XX. Happiness in God.... . . . & © e e s e e . 694
XXI. Divine Attributes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 698
XXII. How to regulate Life, according to
the Rules of Religion......... 700
XXIII. Purity of Life. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 702
XXIV. Before the Communion.......... 704
Exhortation to Students. . . . . . º e º & © tº e º e e is 706
Exhortations to the Candidates for the De-
gree of Master of Arts in the University
of Edinburgh......... 708, 710, 711, 713, 715
716, 718, 720
Waledictory Oration. . . . . & e e s e e . . . . . . . . . . 721
Moderate Episcopacy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 723
Fraginent on Ezra ix. . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * * * ... 725
Charges to the Clergy of the Synod of Dun-
blane. . . . . . * † e º e º 'º e º e º 'º & © tº e e . . . . . . . . 726
Rules and Instructions for a holy Life...... 732
APPENDIX,
Biographical Notices. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 739
Letters. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 759
T H E
LIFE
OF
A R (; H B IS H 0 P L E I G H T() N.
THE name of Leighton occurs in some of
the oldest annals of Scottish history. It be-
longed to a reputable family, proprietary of
the barony of Ulishaven, otherwise called
Usan, which, is a demesne in Craig, a con-
siderable fishing-village in the county of For-
far. Of this name the spelling is very va-
rious, as will commonly be the case with the
patronymic of a family of which the scattered
Vestiges appear, at wide intervals, in the wil-
derness of the unlettered ages. It is spelt
Leichtoune, Lichtoun, Lyghton, Lighton, and
in several other fashions, which are not re-
spectively fixed to certain dates, but seem to
have obtained indiscriminately in the same
eras. One may remark, however, that the
modern Orthography of the name is the same
which presents itself in registers of the great-
est antiquity. In the Rotuli Scotiae, which
have lately been published from the original
records in the Tower, we read that A. D.
1374, John de Leighton, clericus de Scotiá,
obtained a safe-conduct to Oxford, there to
prosecute his studies. Whether or not this
zealot of literature were of the Usan race
can not now be certainly determined. To
the ancestors of that family, however, may
be assigned the meed of sturdy warriors, on
the authority of a quaint chronicle which re-
lates, that
“Schir Walter of Ogilvy, that gud knycht,
Stout and manful, bauld and wycht,”
being sheriff of Angus, was killed in 1392 at
Gasklune or Glenbrerith near Blairgowrie in
Perthshire, by a party of three hundred High-
landers. Ogilvy, with Sir Patrick Gray, Sir
David Lindsay of Glenesk, and about sixty
men encountered the enemy. Gray and Lind-
say were wounded; and Sir Walter Ogilvy, his
uterine brother, Walter Leighton of Ulisha-
Ven, and some of their friends, were killed.
Besides this testimony to the prowess of a
Leighton in the days of feudal lawlessness,
there is proof of the same family, in the be-
ginning of the fifteenth century, having been
inscribed in the lists of ecclesiastical dignity
and political importance. Mention is made
by Keith, in his Catalogue of Scottish Bish-
ops, of One Henry Leighton, parson of Duf-
fus and chantor of Moray, “legum doctor et
baccalaureus in decretis,” a son of the an-
cient family of the Leightons of Ulishaven,
who was consecrated Bishop of Moray, in
1414 or 1415, and was translated about ten
years afterward to the see of Aberdeen.
He was one of the commissioners sent to
London to negotiate the ransom of James I.,
with whom he returned to Scotland; where
he is supposed to have died A. D. 1441.
Although it may be received for a fact,
that the subject of our memoir was descended
of this ancient and respectable family, yet
it has been found impossible to trace all the
steps of his pedigree. The family itself
had undoubtedly declined in wealth and
credit, before the birth of the individual,
who was destined to reflect upon it a new
and transcendent lustre: for it is on record
that, A. D. 1619, a part at least of its origi-
nal estates had been alienated; and in 1670,
there is a grant under the great seal to
Charles Maitland of Halton of the barony
of Ulishaven, escheated to the king by the
death of John, Earl of Dundee, without male
1SSU10.
The father of Archbishop Leighton was
Dr. Alexander Leighton, a presbyterian cler-
gyman of unhappy celebrity. His sufferings
and the causes of them are notorious. In
the reign of Charles I., he was sentenced by
the Star-Chamber, for a virulent attack upon
episcopacy, to be whipped and pilloried, to
have his ears cropped, his nose slit, and his
cheeks branded. This barbarous punish-
ment was rigorously inflicted; and to it were
superadded, during a long imprisonment,
such atrocious severities, as savored more of
Vindictive malignity than of judicial retribu-
tion. No apology would be valid, or even
decent, for cruelties, which were alike re-
Volting to justice, to humanity, and to re-
ligion. That the wretched sufferer, how-
ever, was of a cross, untowardly disposition,
8 THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
may be conjectured from his having brought
himself under the lash of the law, in the
preceding reign, by stubbornly refusing to
abandon the irregular practice of medicine.
There is a fact, moreover, not generally
known, which may account for the extreme
rigor with which his subsequent offences
were visited. Not only was the book, for
which he was so maltreated, and which is
entitled “Zion's Plea against Prelacy,” out-
rageously scurrilous and inflammatory in its
contents, but there were collateral circum-
stances attending its publication, that be-
tokened a mischievous purpose in the writer.
In the first edition, neither the name of the
author nor of the printer is given, and in-
stead of the date in the usual way, we find
—“Printed the year and moneth wherein
Rochell was lost.” The frontispiece exhibits
on one page a lamp burning, supported by a
book, and guarded by two men with drawn
swords; which hieroglyphic is explained by
the legend:—
“Prevailing prelats strive to quench our light,
Except your sacred power quash their might.”
On the other page is the representation of an
antique, dilapidated tower. Out of its ruins
grows an elder-bush, from the branches of
which several bishops are tumbling, one of
them holding in his hand a large box. This
device is interpreted by the motto:-
“The tottering prelats, with their trumpery, all,
Shall moulder down, like elder from a wall.”
The place of Archbishop Leighton's birth
has been much debated It is commonly be-
lieved that he was a native of London; on
the strength, I imagine, of Burnet's asser-
tion, that he was sent thence to be ed-
ucated in Scotland. This, however, is in-
ferring too much : for he may have been car-
ried up, in his infancy, from Scotland to
London, when his father settled in that city.
Craig also claims him for her son: but this
claim seems to have no stronger foundation,
than the fact of his direct or collateral an-
cestors having been considerable proprietors
in that village: a fact too weak to sustain
the hypothesis raised on it by the inhabit-
ants, through a virtuous solicitude to make
out their affinity with so eminent a person.
To my mind there are unanswerable rea-
sons for assigning that distinction to Edin-
burgh. In the inscription on his tombstone,
Leighton is said to have died in his 74th
year; and deducting 73 from 1684, the un-
disputed year of his decease, we shall have
1611 for the year of his nativity. The same
amount is obtained by deducting 30, the
number of his years when he took orders,
from 1641, which is the date of that transac-
tion. Now his father was at that time pro-
fessor of moral philosophy in Edinburgh col-
lege, and did not go up to London until two
years afterward;* and it is certainly to be
* See Chalmer's Biograph. Dict.
presumed, not a shadow of evidence appear-
ing to the contrary, that the son was born in
the place wherein the father was then re-
siding. He had one brother, of whom men-
tion will be made hereafter, who was younger
than he ; and two sisters, one of whom was
married to a Mr. Lightmaker, a gentleman
of landed property in Sussex; and the other
to Mr. Rathband, as appears from a single
allusion in one of her brother's letters.
Of his early years there is left but a scanty
though valuable notice. It comes to us On
the unquestionable authority of his sister,
that his singular teachableness and piety,
from his tenderest age, endeared him greatly
to his parents; who used to speak with ad-
miration of his extraordinary exemption from
childish faults and follies.
At college his behavior was so uniformly
excellent, as to attract the notice of his su-
periors; and one of them, in a letter to Dr.
Leighton, congratulates him on having a
son, in whom Providence has made him
abundant compensation for his sufferings.
There is still in existence a humorous poem
on Dr. Aikenhead, warden of the college,
which Leighton wrote when an undergradu-
ate. It evinces a good-natured playfulness
of fancy, but it not of a merit that calls for
publication.
After taking his degree, Leighton passed
several years in travel, and in the studies
proper to qualify him for future usefulness. It
was his mature opinion, that great advantages
are to be reaped from a residence in foreign
parts; Inasmuch as a large acquaintance
with the sentiments of strangers, and with
the civil and religious institutions, the man-
ners and usages of other countries, conduces
to unshackle the mind of indigenous preju-
dices, to abate the self-sufficiency of partial
knowledge, and to produce a sober and
charitable estimate of opinions that differ
from our own. Many years afterward, he
recommended a similar course to his nephew,
alleging, that “there is a very peculiar ad-
vantage in travel, not to be understood but
by the trial of it; and that for himself he
nowise repented the time he had spent in
that way.”
During his stay abroad, Leighton was often
at Douay, where some of his relations were
settled. In this seminary he appears to
have met with some religionists, whose
lives were framed on the strictest model of
primitive piety. Though keenly alive to the
faults of popery, he did not consider the Ro-
mish church to be utterly antichristian ; but
thought he discerned in it beautiful frag-
ments of the original temple, however dis-
figured with barbarous additions, and almost
hid beneath the rampant growth of a bale-
ful superstition. Having learnt from these
better portions of that corrupt establishment,
that its constitutions were not altogether
dross, he went on to discover that the frame
of his own church was not entirely gold :
THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 9
nor did it escape him, that in the indiscrim-
imate extermination, so clamorously de-
manded in Scotland, of all those offices of
devotion, which symbolized with the Ro-
man catholic services, there would be swept
away some of the noblest formularies and
most useful institutes of the primitive church.
It was probably from this period that his
veneration for the presbyterian platform be-
gan to abate.
He was thirty years old before he took
holy orders; and in postponing it to so ripe
an age his entrance on the ministry, as well
as in retiring so early as he did from its more
laborious province, he acted agreeably to his
avowed opinion, that “some men preach too
soon, and some too long.” His judgment of
what is most reverent toward God corre-
sponded with those canons of the Levitical
economy, which prescribe a mature age for
engaging in the more arduous department of
the sacerdotal office, and grant an honorable
Superannuation at that period of life, when
the strength of mind and body commonly
begins to decay. It was on the sixteenth
day of December, A. D. 1641, that Leighton
was ordained and admitted minister of New-
bottle, in Midlothian, a parish in the presby-
tery of Dalkeith. All diligence has been
used to retrieve traditional reminiscences of
the manner in which this holy man dis-
charged the duties of the office, in under-
taking which he had evinced so much reli-
gious caution. But research has been fruit-
less. No distinct traces remain of those pa-
rochial ministrations, which doubtless fill an
ample page in that book of the Divine re-
membrance, from which no work of faith,
no labor of love, is ever obliterated.
Of the general tenor, however, of his life
and ministerial occupations, we have a few
short but invaluable notices in Burnet's His-
tory of his own Time. Engrossed with the
care of his parish, he seldom mixed in the
convocations of the presbyters, whose prac-
tice of descanting on the Covenant from the
pulpit he greatly disapproved ; and still more
their stern determination to force that bitter
morsel on conscientious objectors. It was
his aim not to win proselytes to a party, but
converts to Jesus Christ. And exemplary
indeed must he have been, since the picture
of a finished evangelist, which his intimate
friend has drawn in the beautiful Discourse
of the Pastoral Care, was correctly copied
from the lively pattern exhibited by Leigh-
ton. Yet the blameless sanctity of his man-
ners, his professional excellence, and his stu-
dious inoffensiveness, were not enough to
content the zealots of his church. In a
synod he was publicly reprimanded for not
“preaching up the times.” “Who,” he
asked, “does preach up the times?” It was
answered that all the brethren did it.
“Then,” he rejoined, “if all of you preach
up the times, you may surely allow one poor
brother topreach up ChristJesusandeternity.”
Although Leighton was averse, both by
temper and principle, from meddling with
politics, yet there were certain conjunctures
of perplexity and peril, in which he though
himself bound to set an example to his flock
of intrepid loyalty. In the year 1648, he ac-
ceded to the Engagement for the King; a
step which would have involved him in se-
rious trouble with the republican govern-
ment, but for the interposition of the Earl
of Lothian, and the charms of his personal
character. When the Engagement expired,
in the discomfiture of those enterprises to
which it had given birth, he was placed in a
very delicate predicament; in which, how-
ever, his behavior was not less creditable to
his political discretion, than to his Christian
boldness and integrity. Called upon in his
official capacity to admonish some of his
parishioners, after they had made a public
profession of repentance, for being actively
concerned in that Engagement to which he
himself had subscribed, he directed their
consciences to the many offences against
morality and religion which they had com-
mitted in the course of their military ser-
vice; and of these, without touching on the
grounds of the expedition and the merits of
their cause, he solemnly charged them to
repent.
About this time, we find him in correspond-
ence with several of the episcopal clergy,
and especially with Bishop Burnet's father.
His mind seems to have been led by observa-
tion of the faults under which the presbyte-
rian disciple labors, to an attentive examina-
tion of the episcopal form, against which he
had imbibed the strongest aversion with his
mother's milk ; an aversion, which would
gather strength from sympathy with his fa-
ther, of whose martyrdom, as he would be
taught to esteem it, his soul must have
drunk in a deep resentment. Although
Leighton never considered any particular
mode of ecclesiastical polity a point of suffi-
cient moment to justify schism, yet it is
clear that from this time he regarded the
episcopal model as adapted, beyond any
other, to the edification of the church uni-
Versal. Assuredly it was no prospect of
secular preferment that helped him to shake
off the prepossessions of his early years;
for his worldly interest pointed another way.
Besides, conversions to which unrighteous mo-
tives have conduced, are usually character-
ized by extraordinary bitterness against the
deserted party; whereas Leighton, after he
was become a moderate episcopalian, breath-
ed nothing but good-will and kindness tow-
ard his former associates. He wholly se-
questered himself, indeed, from their legis-
lative conclaves, and at length relinquished
his cure. But he took this last step, not
from any scruple about continuing to officiate
in a church framed on the Genevese platform,
but from a hearty repugnance to that system
of spiritual despotism, which had been linked
2
10
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
by violent and ambitious men with the
cause of the presbytery.
It must have been in the latter part of his
residence at Newbottle that a calamity befell
him, which elicited a striking manifestation
of his indifference to money, of his large-
heartedness and piety. At his father's death,
he came into possession of about a thousand
pounds; which sum was, in fact, his whole
property. This he placed, or suffered to re-
main, in the hands of a merchant without
adequate security; notwithstanding the re-
monstrances of Mr. Lightmaker, his brother-
in-law, who urged him to come up to Lom-
don and vest it more safely. Leighton’s re-
ply to this good counsel is very characteristic.
“SIR : I thank you for your letter. That
}. give me notice of I desire to consider as
ecomes a Christian, and to prepare to wait
for my own removal. What business follows
upon my father's may be well enough done
without me, as I have writ more at large to
Mr. E—, and desired him to show you the
letter when you meet. Any pittance belong-
ing to me may possibly be useful and need-
ful for my subsistence; but truly, if some-
thing else draw me not, I shall never bestow
so long a journey on that I account so mean
a business. Remember my love to my sister
your wife, and to my brother and sister
Rathband, as you have opportunity. ... I am
glad to hear of the welfare of you all, and
above all things, wish for myself and you all
our daily increase in likeness to Jesus Christ,
and growing heavenward, where he is who
is our treasure. To his grace I recommend
you.
“Sir, your affectionate brother,
“R. LEIGHTON.
“ December 31, 1649. "
Before long, the event anticipated by Mr.
Lightmaker took place. The merchant fail-
ed, and Leighton's patrimony was irretriev-
ably lost. How he took this misfortune may
be learned from the following letter to his
brother-in-law —
“SIR: Your kind advice I can not but thank
you for, but I am not easily taught that les-
son. I confess it is the wiser way to trust
nobody; but there is so much of the fool in
my nature as carries me rather to the other
extreme, to trust everybody. Yet I will en-
deavor to take the best courses I can in that
little business you write of. It is true there
is a lawful, yea a needful diligence in such
things; but, alas! how poor are they to the
portion of believers, where our treasure is.
“That little that was in Mr. E.'s hands hath
failed me ; but I shall either have no need
of it, or be supplied some other way. And
this is the relief of my rolling thoughts, that
while I am writing this, this moment is pas-
sing away, and all the hazards of want and
sickness shall be at an end. My mother
Writes to me, and presses my coming up. I
know not yet if that can be ; but I intend,
God willing, so soon as I can conveniently,
if I come not, to take some course that
things be done as if I were there. I hope
you will have patience in the meantime.
Remember my love to my sisters. The
Lord be with you, and lead you in his ways
“Your loving brother,
“R. LEIGHTon.
“Newbottle, Feb. 4, 1650.”
Being in England some time afterward,
his recent loss was touched upon by Mr.
Lightmaker, who regretted that he had so
sadly misplaced his confidence. “Oh no
more of that,” cried Leighton; “the good
man has escaped from the care and vexation
of that business.” “What, is that all you
make of the matter?” rejoined his brother-
in-law with surprise. “Truly,” answered
the other, “if the Duke of Newcastle, after
losing nineteen times as much of yearly in-
come, can dance and sing, while the solid
hopes of Christianity will not avail to sup-
port us, we had better be as the world.”
Somewhere about this time—for the date
can not be assigned with certainty—there
happened an accident which drew forth a
proof of his admirable self-possesion in the
sudden prospect of death. He had taken
the water at the Savoy stairs, in company
with his brother Sir Ellis, his lady, and some
others, and was on his way to Lambeth,
when, owing to some mismanagement, the
boat was in imminent danger of going to the
bottom. While the rest of the party were
pale with terror, and most of them crying
out, Leighton never for a moment lost his
accustomed serenity. To some, who after-
ward expressed their astonishment at his
calmness, he replied: “Why, what harm
would it have been, if we had all been safe
landed on the other side 3’” In the habit of
dying daily, and of daily conversing with the
world of spirits, he could never be surprised
or disconcerted by a summons to depart out
of the body.
Another anecdote of him, which bears
witness to his devout equanimity on perilous
Occasions, belongs to this period of his his-
tory. During the civil wars, when the roy-
alist army was lying in Scotland, Leighton
was anxious to visit his brother, who bore
arms in the king's service, before an engage-
ment which was daily expected should take
place. On his way to the camp he was be-
nighted in the midst of a vast thicket ; and
having deviated from the path, he sought in
vain for an outlet. Almost spent with fa-
tigue and hunger, he began to think his sit-
uation desperate, and dismounting he spread
his cloak upon the ground, and knelt down
to pray. With implicit devotion he resigned
his soul to God; entreating, however, that if
it were not the divine pleasure for him then
to conclude his days, some way of deliver-
ance might be opened. Then remounting
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
11
his horse, he threw the reins upon its neck;
and the animal, left to itself, or rather to the
conduct of an Almighty Providence, made
straight into the high road; thridding all the
mazes of the wood with unerring certainty.
In the year 1652, after eleven years of close
residence on his cure, Leighton tendered his
resignation to the presbytery. At first it
was declined, but in the year following they
were induced to accept it; and on Feb. 3,
1653, his ministerial connexion with New-
bottle was dissolved. Shortly after this af.
fair, he was chosen primar or principal of
the university of Edinburgh, a situation
which he was prevailed upon to accept, be-
cause it was totally unconnected with the
church as a body politic. It was hardly
possible that, at such a period of civil dis-
sension, his election should be unanimous;
but although it was not cordially approved
of by all parties, yet such was the homage
paid to his uncommon merit, that it encoun-
tered no direct opposition. It appears that,
upon the death of Principal Adamson in
1652, Mr. William Colville, at that time
minister of the English church at Utrecht,
was elected. But in consequence of “some
obstructions” (as the phrase runs in the
Council Register of Edinburgh), the nature
of which is not explained, the election was
set aside on the 17th of January, 1653, one
year's stipend being allowed to the deposed
warden, to compensate his trouble and ex-
pense in coming over from Holland. As this
gentlemen was known for his monarchical
principles, it is probable that the obstruc-
tions hinted at proceeded from Oliver Crom-
well; for it is certain that, about this time,
the principals of King's college, Aberdeen,
of Glasgow, and of St. Andrew’s, paid the
forfeit of their stubborn loyalty with their
academical places. The selfsame day on
which the office was declared vacant, Leigh-
ton was chosen to it. The ministers of the
city, who were partial to Colville, a man of
real worth and talent, assisted at the election
of his successor in obedience to the charter,
but refused to concur in it; at the same
time expressing a wish that their attend-
ance could have been dispensed with, “since
they were content with the man, though not
clear in the manner of the call.”
In this situation he was eminently useful.
One of his earliest measures was to revive
the obsolete practice of delivering, once in
the week, a Latin lecture on some theologi-
cal subject. These prelections, which are
fortunately preserved, attracted such general
admiration, that the public hall in which he
pronounced them used to be thronged with
auditors, who were all enchanted with the
purity of his style, and with his animated
delivery. To the students under his care he
was indefatigably attentive, instructing them
singly as well as collectively; and to many
* See Bower’s Hist. of the Univ. of Edin, vol. i.,
pp. 261,263, &c.
youths of capacity and distinction his wise
and affectionate exhortations were lastingly
beneficial.
Of his proceedings, while he held this
academical post, some particulars are ex-
tant, which bespeak him gifted with talents
for active business. Two years after his ap-
pointment, he was deputed by the Provost
and Council, to apply to the Protector in
London, for an augmentation of the revenues
of the college. A minute of the Town Coun-
cil Register indicates that his mission was
successful.
The year following, he called the atten-
tion of the magistrates to a report of some
suspicious houses having been detected in
the neighborhood of the college; and the ef-
fectual measures were set on foot, at his in-
stigation, for extirpating the nuisance.
Neither was he regardless of those subor-
dinate establishments, to which, as they
were not comprehended within the immedi-
ate circle of his duties, a principal of austerer
dignity, or of inferior zeal, might not have
condescended. Observing that the collegi-
ans made little way in the higher branches
of Science and literature, he searched into
the cause of their deficiency, and quickly
found it in the want of a sound rudimental
education. For the cure of this evil he pro-
posed that grammar-schools should be found-
ed in the several presbyteries, and be suita-
bly endowed; and he advised that Cromwell
should be solicited to assign the funds requi-
site for this purpose “out of the concealed
revenues of the Kirk rents.” He further rec-
ommended that some elementary grammar,
part English and part Latin, should be com-
piled for the use of these seminaries; and in
order to take immediate advantage of the
Protector's bounty, should he graciously ac-
cede to their petition, he moved that instruc-
tions be issued forthwith to magistrates,
ministers, and masters of families, enjoining
them to set about obtaining a “Locality”
for the proposed establishments.
In the same year he offered to preach in
the college hall to the scholars, once on the
sabbath of every third or fourth week, taking
turns with the professors; an offer which ap-
pears to have been accepted by the Town
Council.
Bound up with the book entitled Naphtali,
is a letter from James Mitchell, the stern
fanatic, who suffered for his attempt on the
life of Archbishop Sharp. In this letter he
vindicates himself for the part he took in
the Pentland insurrection, on the ground of
his having been required, at college, to sub-
scribe the National Covenant, and the Sol-
emn League and Covenant, which were ten-
dered to him along with the other candi-
dates for Laureation, A. D. 1656, by the Prin-
cipal Leighton.* There seems no reason to
question the veracity of this statement. It
was quite consistent with Leighton's princi-
* See Naphtali, 1761, p. 373; and Wodrow MSS.
I2
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
ples to submit to existing authorities; and to
consider this or the other form of govern-
ment, whether in church or state, a point
of vastly inferior importance to concord and
quietness. Against the matter of the cove-
nants he seems not to have entertained, at
that time, any strong objection, but only to
their being made engines of tyrannizing over
men's consciences, and oppressing their per-
sons. Assuredly he would not himself have
issued an order for withholding degrees from
the scholars till they had professed their al-
legiance to the dominant system. Still it
would be a high pitch of censoriousness, to
find Leighton in fault for proposing to the
students, in his official capacity, a test of
their attachment to the existing order of
things; it being certain, moreover, that the
majority would accept it cordially, and the
pain of declining it being only the suspension
of an academical degree.
Leighton retained the situation of Princi-
pal in the University of Edinburgh till the
year 1662, when a very unexpected call
obliged him to resign it; and his successor
was the same Mr. Colville, into whose chair
he had been preferred, when that gentle-
man's election was superseded by Cromwell,
as related above.
The course of our history has brought us
to an epoch, which may be reckoned the
most important of Leighton's life;—the epoch
of his inauguration to the episcopal office in
Scotland. It was not to be expected that
this son of a noted confessor in the cause of
ecclesiastical parity should be allowed to
transfer his allegiance to prelacy, without
incurring censures of the sharpest edge. In
the spring-tide of religious and civil bigotry,
such a deed was sure to undergo the most
unfavorable construction ; for even in the
present day, when every grudge has died
away between the two national churches,
Presbyterian writers commonly regard this
transaction as a sable spot on the character of
Leighton, which it is a large stretch of char-
ity to impute solely to a misleading judgment.
Being myself satisfied, after attentive exami-
nation, that neither his understanding nor
his heart was in the wrong on this occasion,
I shall hope to be excused if I attempt to set
his conduct in its true light, by prefacing the
particulars of his elevation to the bench,
with a succinct account of the religious con-
dition of Scotland at that period.
Charles II., when first he recovered the
usurped throne of his fathers, was welcomed
with every demonstration of delight. To
the eyes of an excited multitude, his return
was that of a tutelary deity, whose exile
had shed a blight upon their wealth and
happiness, and with whose presence their
civil and religious prosperity was identified.
Throughout the country this event was cele-
brated with intemperate festivities. The
whole nation was in a phrensy of joy, and
seemed anxious to indemnify itself for the
restraints which puritanical austerity had
imposed, by giving the loose reign to indul-
gences that were but too congenial with the
young king's disposition, and that fostered in
him those licentious habits which have con-
signed his reign to the most ignominious page
of English history. It is remarkable that
Scotland shared largely, as Kirkton pathetic-
ally owns, in the popular intoxication. A
covenanted prince established on the throne
of the British islands, was such a proud spec-
tacle, as unhinged the habitual sobriety of
the rigid presbyterians; and the few who
escaped the extensive contagion sought lonely
places and wept, declaring that this “mirth
ran in too carnal a strain,” to betoken any
good to the cause in which it originated.
The state of the English church at this
juncture is so generally known, that to de-
scribe it would be superflous. By the iron
hand of Cromwell episcopacy had been dis-
placed, to make way for the congregational
discipline which was brought in over the
heads of the outwitted and indignant presby-
terians. But the temper of the English na-
tion was ill-suited to this ecclesiastical con-
stitution, which was generally borne with
impatience, and melted away like a snow-
wreath, the instant it felt the touch of re-
viving monarchy. Little time was lost in
removing the intrusive ministers from the
benefices, colleges, and other preferments of
which they had possessed themselves; nor
did any material disturbance result from the
discontent of the ousted party. In the fa-
cility with which the re-establishment of
episcopacy was effected, there was nothing
to surprise a considerate observer. The Cran-
mers, the Ridleys, the Latimers, the Hoop-
ers, the Jewels, who had borne the brunt of
that dreadful contest in which this nation
burst the chains of a debasing superstition;
these mitred confessors and martyrs were
canonized in every English bosom; whereas
of the advantages peculiar to the presbyterian
economy, the experience had been short and
unsatisfactory. Hence no movement could
be easier in England than a recurrence to the
episcopal constitution.
But far other were the predilections of our
northern brethren. However just the claim
of episcopacy may be to the filial reverence
of the church of Scotland, it is nevertheless
notorious that, at the dawn of the Reforma-
tion, the dignitaries of that church opposed
the current of popular feeling, and opinion;
and by cruelties not less impolitic than wick-
ed, exasperated to the utmost a nation always
strongly tenacious of its sentiments, and of
its resentments of real or supposed injuries.
The reformation of Scotland originated with
teachers of the Lutheran persuasion, by
whom neither a liturgical service, nor a
graduated scale of ecclesiastical authorities,
was accounted a popish abomination. But
some of Calvin's disciples, to whom it fell to
complete the excellent work, not content
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
13
with introducing their master's doctrinal
code as the only true interpretation of the
gospel, coupled with it his plan of church
polity, as hardly inferior in sanctity and im-
portance to his theological system itself.
None but a novice in human nature will be
indignant at the early reformers for pushing
to an enormous extent their abhorrence of
whatever savored of popery. Yet assuredly
it was excessive. Those especially of the
Genevese church seem to have measured
their proximity to the sound and wholesome
institutes of Christ and his apostles, by their
remoteness from whatever obtained in Rome,
whether of doctrine or discipline; and this
sentiment, not feeble in its influence on the
minds of the educated teachers, became fierce
and outrageous through its union with ani-
mal passions, when transfused into the
breasts of the uncivilized multitude.
To Knox, and to his fellow-helpers in
cleansing the Scottish temple, the homage
of reformed Christendom is due. Chieftains
were they among heroes,
“Giants of mighty bone and bold emprise,”
who achieved what men of the plebeian
standard would not have dared even to con-
template; and whose successes in a warfare
of extraordinary difficulty have raised an
imperishable monument to their rare endow-
ments, to their sleepless zeal, their intrepid
boldness, their uncompromising honesty,
their sublime devotion. Yet it can not be
disguised that nothing graceful appears in
their robust and sinewy proportions. They
were rough artificers, and they worked with
rough tools; preferring a rapid execution of
their project by main force to the tardier re-
sults of address and dexterity. Much might
be urged to extenuate, and even to justify the
violence of their procedures. It is not, how-
ever, my present business to calculate the
merits, or to palliate the errors of the great
Scotch reformers; a task which has been
ably executed by Dr. M'Crie in his interest-
ing life of John Knox. But I have thought
it expedient just to glance at the subject in
order that the reader, when carried into
scenes in which the jealous attachment of
Scotchmen to presbyterianism breaks out,
may have his mind constantly awake to the
fact, that it was under the presbyterian ban-
ner that protestantism triumphed in their
land. To this it was owing that, in vulgar
estimation, the pure faith of the gospel was
so incorporated with the Calvinistic #m. of
church-government, as to be unable to sur-
vive a separation. A shrine, framed exactly
on that pattern was deemed indispensable
for obtaining the inhabitation of the Deity.
Accordingly when James I. endeavored, tow-
ard the close of the sixteenth century, to
impose a moderate kind of episcopacy on
Scotland, his enterprise, though conducted
as stealthily as possible, and with character-
istic craft, was met by a resistance under
which it soon expired. With the disastrous
attempts of his son to assimilate the kirk to
its sister church, by reviving prelacy and in-
troducing a liturgy, every reader of English
history is familiar. It were to be wished
that the second Charles had learnt from these
miscarriages the fatal folly of violently med-
dling with national prejudices, and of mak-
ing such headlong inroads into the sanctuary
of the conscience, as men of principle and
honor will resist at every hazard. So it was,
however, that one of the earliest measures
of his flagitious reign was an attempt to
force back on the good people of Scotland
that ecclesiastical discipline which they had
so recently and loathingly repudiated.
To this attempt, which would have been
unwise in any monarch, and in Charles, was
base and unprincipled, we may notice some
strong inducements. Foremost among these
may be placed the strong disgust that prince
had conceived at the covenanters. He had
certainly been hard ridden by them when
struggling for the throne; and he well knew
that, in promoting his restoration they had
not been actuated by attachment to his per-
son, but solely by the hope that a monarch
who should owe to their sword the recovery
of his crown, would prove a pillar of the
kirk, a corner-stone of the presbyterian tem-
ple. Charles, however, whose memory had
a rare facility of shaking off claims upon
his gratitude, forgot the services of the par-
ty which had lavished its blood in his be-
half, but remembered the humiliations by
which those services had been purchased.
Nor can it be doubted that he had, in this
enterprise, a view to the erection of an abso-
lute throne; an hereditary propensity, which
would doubtless be augmented by the blow
that had recently alighted on his family
from the popular arm of the British constitu-
tion ; and to which a new edge had been
given by the display he had witnessed in the
French court of the manifold attractions of
an irresponsible despotism. He conceived,
moreover, that through episcopacy a door
might be opened, in process of time, for the
admission of popery ; a religion which he is
reasonably suspected to have adopted, not
from a conscientious preference of its doc-
trines, but from observing that its external
frame was excellently adapted to help for-
ward his arbitrary designs. He was further
urged on by mercenary intriguers, who pic-
tured Scotland to him with her arms already
open to embrace an hierarchical establish-
ment; and when these representations were
enforced by the counsels of his ablest minis-
ters, he no longer hesitated to begin an ex-
periment to which he had from the first been
prompted by his personal sentiments, al-
though his good understanding had somewhat
delayed it.
As far as the accomplishment of the pro-
ject was concerned, it was apparently sound
policy to set about it before presbyterianism
14
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
had recovered from the shock it had received
during Cromwell's usurpation, and while the
nation's bridal enthusiasm at the union with
its desired sovereign was still brisk and
mantling. Whether it would have been
practicable, as some have imagined, by ta-
king advantage of the suspicions which the
presbyterians harbored of the independents,
to insinuate by furtive gradations a moderate
form of episcopacy, it is not our present
business to debate. But had the scheme
been ever so wise and excellent, it could
hardly have been brought to a fortunate
issue by the agents to whose conduct it was
intrusted. To have given it a fair chance of
success, there should have been employed
upon it men of experience, abilities, and vir-
tue; men equally wary and resolute; deli-
cate in managing national prejudices, and
strong to arrest or skilful to turn, the stream
of epidemical passions; men of popular tal-
ent and conciliatory address; and whose mor-
al and religious character would stamp some
credit on proceedings, which, how much so-
ever sweetened, must still have left behind a
bitter relish.
But instead of such a choice being made,
the royal commission was given to Middle-
ton, a man of base origin and baser manners,
obstimate, choleric, licentious, and cruel. His
coadjutor was Dr. James Sharp, whose mem-
ory is still execrated by the presbyterian
church, and whose virtues were not of suffi-
cient magnitude, even in the eyes of his own
party, for his tragical end to secure him the
reputation of a martyr. By his enemies he
is branded with every atrocious epithet
which malevolence can coin or utter; his
political offences are aggravated; his person-
al character is blackened. That religious
bigotry has mangled his corse will be clear
to any one, who shall calmly distinguish au-
thentic facts from baseless and improbable
allegations. Whoever peruses the narratives
of Wodrow and Kirkton, will feel bound to
receive their charges against Sharp with no
common jealousy, on observing how little
careful those historians themselves are to
weigh him in an even balance. Bishop Bur-
net, whose delineations are occasionally
tinctured with private dislikes, has left a
very ill-favored portrait of his moral charac-
ter; describing him as devoid of serious re-
ligion, an artful sycophant, whose integrity
readily truckled to his worldly interests. On
the other hand, some favorable representa-
tions of him have appeared. It has been
averred that in the heavy charge of having
betrayed his party he is cruelly belied ; inas-
much as he had ceased, before he was made
a bishop, to hold any commission from the
presbyterian body, and was agent at that
time for only one part of the ministers, with
whom he had a perfect understanding. Of
his liberality also such testimonies have been
adduced, as it would be uncandid to disallow.
The truth probably is, that Sharp was honest
so long as his honesty was unassailed by
considerable temptations; but he was not
proof against the bait of a mitre. Having
neither firmness of principle, nor tenderness
of conscience, nor delicacy of honor, he
might easily persuade himself that, since no
opposition on his part could check the re-
fluent tide of episcopacy, to rise with it to
the summit of wealth and dignity would be
no illaudible wisdom. For the great affairs
intrusted to him by the English government
he wanted compass of mind and amenity of
temper; and he was still more disqualified
for conducting them successfully, by the ut-
ter disrepute into which he had Hilº with
his countrymen. But he was an industrious
man, of some versatility of talent and dexter-
ity in business; and these useful qualities,
combined with those prime requisites for
currying favor with an unprincipled court, a
supple conscience, a patient obsequiousness,
and a wheedling tongue, attracted the royal
notice, and merited for him the primacy of
Scotland.
Matters being thus far advanced toward
restoring the episcopal regimen, the next
business was to find persons qualified for its
highest stations. Sydserf, formerly Bishop
of Galloway, was the only survivor of that
order of dignitaries in Scotland. He was
now appointed to Orkney, the least laborious
see, and therefore the best adapted to a man
almost past his work, but who could not,
without receiving a slur on his character, be
omitted in the roll of new bishops. After
Sharp had secured the primacy by worming
himself into the good graces of Lord Claren-
don, the appointments to the inferior sees
were given very much into his hands. We
have Burmet's assertion, and it is corroborated
by authenticated facts, that his choice was
generally very bad. Yet in company with
the names of Fairfowl, Hamilton, and Alex-
ander Burnet, we find the venerable name of
Robert Leighton —
—“quale per artem
Inclusum buxo, aut Oriciá terebintho,
Lucet ebur.”
Of this nomination, however, the credit is
denied to Sharp ; and it does seem impos-
sible that he should have approved it, unless
he were ignorant, which he hardly could be,
of Leighton's character.
The following are the circumstances which
led to the exaltation of this extraordinary
man to a sphere of stormy greatness, where-
in his apostolic virtues gilded the gloom,
which it exceeded even their influence to
dispel.
During the collegial vacations, Leighton
was in the custom of making excursions into
England, or across the seas, partly for the
benefit of his health, and partly with a view
of gaining a clear insight into the state of
religious parties and opinions. He was pas-
sing homeward through London, after a visit
to Bath, when he was first mentioned to the
THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
15
king as a desirable person to include among
the new bishops, by Lord Aubigny, a noble-
man high in favor at court, as well on ac-
count of his being a papist, and privy to
Charles's apostacy, as because his libertine
principles were congenial with those of his
graceless sovereign. With this powerful
courtier Sir Ellis Leighton, secretary to the
Duke of York, was on terms of intimacy ;
and having himself turned papist from mer-
cenary motives, he now desired with no
higher views, the conversion of his brother
into a bishop. He was a man of talent,
specious and aspiring ; and he pretended to
a piety which his dissolute life belied. Im-
agining that a mitre in his family would aug-
ment his personal consequence, and thereby
conduce to his further aggrandisement, he
was at pains to possess the mind of Lord
Aubigny with a high conceit of the advan-
tages that would ensue from appointing a
man like Robert Leighton to nurse the criti-
cal infancy of the episcopal church. Charles,
who never wanted penetration, was not
hard to be persuaded that the likeliest way
to sooth the covenanters, and accredit the
meditated innovation, was to invest with the
lawn a divine of such superlative merit, so
accomplished in learning, and so beloved for
his mild and saintlike virtues. This would
indeed be to cloak the prelatic wolf in
sheep's clothing. Entertaining also an opin-
ion, the proper spawn of a mind steeped in
profligacy, that every man's conscience ac-
commodates itself to his interests, he never
doubted but Leighton might be wrought
upon by his brother to acquiesce in episco-
pacy being made a stalkinghorse to cover
the approaches of popery.
On this he probably counted with the great-
er assurance in consequence of a current re-
port, that Leighton was not unfriendly to some
parts of the pontifical constitutions; a report
which seems to have taken its rise from his
paying occasional visits to the college at
Douay, and to have been countenanced by
his celibacy, his ascetic habits, and an admi-
ration for some of the disciples of Jansenius,
which he was too highminded and ingenuous
to dissemble. It was, indeed, more than in-
sinuated, that he was too liberally affected
toward the catholics for a stanch and thor-
ough protestant ; and the commendations he
bestowed on the works of Thomas à Kempis
in his public lectures, did not escape severe
animadversions. To attempt a serious con-
futation of this slander would be to grapple
with a shadow. Leighton's Writings abound
with brief but decisive refutations of those
Roman catholic tenets, which it was the
essence of the reformation to abjure; and
their whole spirit and tenor are diametrically
opposite to the self-righteous formalities and
unscriptural impositions, which are inter-
woven with the very substance of that adul-
terous system. So long as the current of
passion bore down, with undistinguishing
fury upon whatever was suspected, wheth-
er in doctrine or practice, of being cog-
nate to papistry, it was worthy of his be-
nignant and liberal spirit to do what he
could toward clearing away prejudices, by
which the mind was prevented from seeing
clearly to eliminate the faults, without ex-
cluding the excellences of the catholic rit-
ual. But when he perceived that a contrary
and more dangerous current had set in from
the English court, and that nothing less was
designed that to restore to the Vatican its
ascendency, he then exposed the deformity
of the church of Rome in such unsparing
terms as nothing but a deep apprehension of
the impending evil could have extorted from
a man of his forbearance and charity.
Leighton was very averse from his own
promotion ; and in his nephew's account I
find him stating, that his reluctance to acqui-
esce in it was only overcome by a perempto-
ry order of the court, requiring him to accept
it, unless he thought in his conscience that
the episcopal office was unlawful. Unable
to screen himself behind this opinion, which
he was far from entertaining, he surrendered
at length to the royal instances, that he might
not incur the guilt of contumacy toward the
king ; or of shrinking from a service, to
which a greater Potentate seemed to summon
him.
Perhaps this transaction, which has been
thought to cast a shade over his constancy
and disinterestedness, may appear to the can-
did and intelligent reasoner, when thoroughly
sifted, to exhibit those qualities with singular
lustre. Taking in the whole system of his
life before and after his consecration, we see
him an example of modesty, gravity, and ha-
bitual recollection of spirit; a despiser of
riches, and show, and figure, and selfish in-
dulgences; an exile in heart from this world
of sensible objects; one, whose prime delight
it was to dwell in solitary converse with his
God, and with the things that are invisible
and eternal. To suppose that a man of this
make and these habits was carried out of
himself by a flush of ambition or vanity, that
precluded all due consideration of the man-
ner in which his elevation would affect his
credit, his conscience, and his happiness, is
to suppose a phenomenon, that could only be
made credible by evidence, which in this
case is totally wanting. Covetousness could
never be laid to his charge without a con-
tempt of historical testimony, too indecent
for his keenest enemies to venture on. When,
moreover, the soundness of his understand-
ing, and the rigor with which he used to
canvass his own conduct and motives, are
taken into the account, some presumption
that he acted rightly, under all the circum-
stances of the case, in taking this perilous
step, must be admitted to arise from his
never repenting of it; neither when he was
laboriously sowing in tears, nor when, at the
sad conclusion of his episcopal labors, he
16
THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
reaped a plentiful harvest of obloquy, disap-
pointment, and sorrow. Not long after his
advancement, when some of his former
friends upbraided him with his dereliction of
his father's principles, contumeliously term-
ing it apostacy, he calmly answered that no
man was bound to be of his father's opinions;
and whenever he was challenged to vindicate
the obnoxious step he had taken, he manifest-
ed a frankness and good humor, which could
not have subsisted on any terms with an of-
fended conscience.
What then remains but to believe that this
transaction was in strict accordance with his
magnanimous character ? that it was an act
of self-immolation at the altar of Christian
love ; a deliberate surrender of his constant
inclinations, and of present ease and quiet,
to the exigencies of the church, for whose
sake he accounted no affliction too severe, no
service too laborious, no sacrifice too costly 7
Fortunately there is a letter preserved, writ-
ten at the time he was in suspense about
accepting a bishopric, in which he discloses,
with touching ingenuity and pathos, the
workings of his holy soul. I here insert it
as a document of great interest, throwing
light on this part of our history, and beauti-
fully illustrating the conflict of his mind, be-
fore it was subdued to this great effort of duty.
The letter is to the Rev. Mr. James Aird,
minister at Torry.
“My DEAR FRIEND: I have received from
you the kindest letter that ever you writ me;
and that you may know I take it so, I return
you the free and friendly advice, never to
judge any man before you hear him, nor any
business by one side of it. Were you here
to see the other, I am confident your thoughts
and mine would be the same. You have
both too much knowledge of me, and too
much charity to think, that either such little
contemptible scraps of honor or riches sought
in that part of the world with so much re-
proach, or any human complacency in the
world, will be admitted to decide so grave a
question, or that I would sell (to speak no
higher) the very sensual pleasure of my re-
tirement for a rattle, far less deliberately do
anything that I judge offends God. For the
offence of good people in cases indifferent in
themselves, but not accounted so by them,
whatsoever you do or do not, you shall offend
Some good people on the one side or other ;
and for those with you, the great fallacy in
this business is, that they have misreckoned
themselves in taking my silence and their
zeals to have been consent and participation;
which, how great a mistake it is, few know
better or so well as yourself. And the truth
is, I did see approaching an inevitable neces-
sity to strain with them in divers practices,
in what station soever remaining in Britain ;
and to have escaped further off (which hath
been in my thoughts) would have been the
greatest scandal of all. And what will you
say if there be in this thing somewhat of
that you mention, and would allow of recon-
ciling the devout on different sides, and of
enlarging those good souls you meet with
from their little fetters, though possibly with
little success? Yet the design is commenda-
ble, pardonable at least. However, one com-
fort I have, that in what is pressed on me
there is the least of my own choice, yea on
the contrary the strongest aversion that ever
I had to anything in all my life: the difficul-
ty in short lies in a necessity of either own-
ing a scruple which I have not, or the rudest
disobedience to authority that may be. The
truth is, I am yet importuning and struggling
for a liberation, and look upward for it : but
whatsoever be the issue, I look beyond it,
and this weary, weary, wretched life through
which the hand I have resigned to I trust
will lead me in the path of his own choosing:
and so I may please him I am satisfied. I
hope if ever we meet you shall find me in
the love of solitude and a devout life,
“Your unaltered Brother and º
“When I set pen to paper, I intended not to
exceed half a dozen lines, but slid on insensi-
bly thus far: but though I should fill the pa-
per on all sides, still the right view of this
business would be necessarily suspended till
meeting. Meanwhile hope well of me, and
pray for me. This word I will add, that as
there has been nothing of my choice in the
thing, so I undergo it, if it must be, as a
mortification, and that greater than a cell
and hair-cloth ; and whether any will be-
lieve this or no I am not careful.”
It is surely no discredit to his sagacity,
that he once conceived a hope to which he
alludes in his letter, of bringing the episco-
palians and presbyterians to coalesce on the
basis of reciprocal concession. That hope
will not be accounted the less rational for
being feeble: but in proportion to its feeble-
ness, if it were not altogether visionary, does
the value rise of the sacrifices he made to
realize it; for the dignity of its object none
will dispute. Had it been possible for human
virtue to have prevented the bloody discord,
which shortly overcast the spiritual firma-
ment, and rent the Scottish church like an
earthquake, Leighton could not have failed.
To a temper, in which Burnet never but
once saw a ruffle, during a close familiarity
of twenty-two years’ standing, and under
every variety of provocation, and to an ad-
dress in dealing with perverse and factious
spirits, which his adversaries admit while
disparaging it with unhandsome epithets, he
joined such extreme moderation of sentiment
on the points at issue between the two church-
es, as peculiarly fitted him to stand in the
gap, the angel of reconciliation and concord.
It is true, indeed, that success has rarely fol-
lowed attempts to restore compactness to
a religious body, after once it has been
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
17
violently divided. For the most part the
cure of religious dissensions is unhopeful, in
proportion as the ground of them is trivial:
because the difficulty of allaying the pas-
sions of men corresponds with the degree in
which they are wedded to creatures of the
imagination. As the contest goes on, the
objects of contention gain importance in the
eyes of the combatants; and minute differ-
ences expand into gulfs which separate Salva-
tion from perdition, the rather perhaps for
the conscience being honest where the mind
is not adequately enlightened. No violent
measures, no compendious process, can bring
about a cordial union of bodies of men, disu-
nited in matters of conscience. Yet, let
time be allowed for factions to disband and
irritations to abate ; let proper measures be
pursued for preventing untoward collisions,
and for bringing those who are jealous of
each other into contact at points, in which
a mutual attraction will be developed: and
it may happen that, uniting in affection one
to another, they will at length agree together
in mind and opinion ; or, at least their spec-
ulative differences will cease to create bane-
ful and scandalous schisms.
Leighton doubtless hoped that, by a mild
and temperate exercise of his episcopal ju-
risdiction, he should propitiate most of the
covenanters, whose hostility to moderate
episcopacy he might suppose to be relenting
from the avowed desire for it of the synod
of Aberdeen, and from the apparent confor-
mity of two thirds of the ministers. The re-
establishment of the ancient monarchy, an
event so grateful to patriots of both persua-
sions, he considered a favorable crisis for
“causing contentions to cease,” and for
drowning private grudges and public feuds
in an ocean of Christian love and universal
prosperity. He might hope, moreover, that
by his personal influence with the king, to
whom his brother's situation at court would
facilitate his access, he should be able to
keep in check the violent partisans of prela-
cy, and to curb that headlong precipitance
of innovation, of which some portentous
symptoms had already appeared in the royal
councils. In the latter objects he did not
entirely fail: for he effectually shielded the
nonconformists in his own diocess from mol-
estation ; and more than once, as we shall
see hereafter, he converted the king to mod-
erate measures by his faithful and fearless
representations. His attempts to soften the
prejudices of his own countrymen, and to
effect a conjunction of the two churches did,
it is true, miscarry. But it will appear in
the sequel of this history, that the failure
does not lie with the bishop, who exhibited
throughout that arduous transaction an illus-
trious specimen of Christian diplomacy, and
whose character came forth from it, as pure
gold seven times tried in the furnace.
There is one particular of Leighton's con-
duct in this perplexing business, which is
open to just exception. I allude to his re-
ceiving the orders, first of deacon, and then
of priest, from the English bishops, previ-
ously to his consecration. Sheldon, bishop
of London, insisted on Sharp and Leighton
being re-ordained, on the plea that their
presbyterian ordination was void from the
beginning, it having been conferred by a
church actually in a state of schism, which
Vitiated all its acts of administration. Leigh-
ton denied the soundness of this objection to
the validity of his ministry. . Yet being lit-
tle scrupulous, too little indeed, about the
circumstantials of ecclesiastical polity, he
yielded to Sheldon’s demand with a readi-
ness, which the repugnance evinced to it
by Sharp made the more observable. The
view he took of the ceremony imposed upon
them was, “the re-ordaining a priest or-
dained in another church imported no more,
but that they received him into orders ac-
cording to their own rules; and did not infer
the annulling the orders he had formerly re-
ceived.” Had the English bishops concur-
red in this explanation, Leighton would have
stood on solid ground in submitting to a new
ordination. But instead of concurring...in it,
their avowed meaning was to bestower that
upon him, of which in their#. he
was hitherto destitute—a regular Čolisecra-
tion to the ministry of the gospel; ind in
this meaning Leighton did to ºutwäfö ap-
pearance acquiesce. His private construc-
tion of the act, to which he submitted,
could not change his public aspect and ghar-
acter. It seemed levelled at the found:#tions
of presbytery, by impeaching the legitimacy
of all presbyterian ministers, who had re-
ceived holy orders after episcopacy was le-
gally resettled in Scotland by King James;
and of course it exasperated the clergy, who
were in that predicament, and also the laity,
who thought the honor and interest of their
church were compromised by Leighton’s con-
CéSS10Il.
It was the duty of a faithful historian to
avow, that Leighton did not not, in this in-
stance, sufficiently consider the ill impression
his compliance would produce on mankind,
and how much it might weaken his influ-
ence, by bringing him nearer in public esti-
mation, than had been Supposed possible, to
the level of mere worldly calculators. Yet
assuredly the real spring of his conduct in
this affair was a high-toned spirituality,
which made him overlook the importance
attached by vulgar opinion to the outside
frame and fashion of religion. For on any
point which seemed to touch the substance
of Christian piety, he was exquisitely sensi-
ble. Hence his disgust at the feasting and
jollity, with which the consecration of the
new bishops was celebrated. It grieved this
excellentman, to see anything of sensuallevity
mixed up with the solemn business to which
they were set apart; and the absence of that
seriousness and spirit of prayer, which be-

3
18
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
:
came the commencement of such an under-
taking as the new modelling of a church, op-
pressed his mind with gloomy presages.
These were increased, when he found Arch-
bishop Sharp unprepared with any plan for
healing the wounds of the church, for pur-
ging out its corruptions, for rectifying its
disorders, and for kindling in it a livelier
flame of true piety. On these great objects
Leighton was anxious to begin without de-
lay ; and already he had conceived a pro-
cess for the union of parties in Scotland, and
for reforming the public services of religion,
and reducing them to a method more orderly
and better adapted to general edification.
But in these Christian projects he found no
auxiliaries. With Sharp, the establishment
of an hierarchy, with himself at the head,
appears to have been the ultimate object;
and he was neither able to understand the
spirit, nor disposed to forward the schemes
of Leighton, of whose influence with Lau-
derdale he had begun to conceive a jealousy,
and to whose pious disinterestedness the
worldliness of his colleagues stood in dis-
graceful contrast. Leighton's sad forebodings
were not a little confirmed by a close obser-
vation of Sharp's real character, and by the
clearer development, that was daily taking
place, of the principles which actuated the
episcopalian leaders. In the supercilious
recklessness of the infant hierarchy he des-
cried the sure omen of its downfall; and he
remarked to Burnet that, “in the whole
progress of that affair, there appeared such
cross characters of an angry Providence,
that how fully soever he was satisfied in his
own mind as to episcopacy itself, yet it
seemed that God was against them, and that
they were not like to be the men that should
build up his church, so that the struggling
about it seemed to him like a fighting against
God.”
On the 12th of December, 1661, four of the
persons fixed upon to commence the episco-
pal dynasty of Scotland received consecra-
tion in London. Leighton being appointed,
at his special request, to the inconsiderable
see of Dunblane, in Perthshire. Early in
the following year, the new bishops pro-
ceeded in one coach to Edinburgh. Between
Leighton and his colleagues, however, there
was such a want of sympathy, as made it
very irksome to him to journey in their com-
pany; and having learned that it was their
intention to make a grand entry into Edin-
burgh, he quitteth them at Morpeth, and ar-
rived some days before the rest of the party.
Burnet describes himself to have been a
downcast spectator of the pomp and parade
with which the other three bishops were es-
corted into the Scottish metropolis; and the
spirit of wise and pious men was abashed,
when they contrasted this ostentatious pa-
geantry with the example of that true Bishop
of souls, who made his last solemn entrance
into Jerusalem, riding upon an ass and weep-
ing, as if unable to endure the splendor of a
triumph which prophecy forbade him to de-
cline, unless it were shaded with a cloud of
humility and sadness.
The first measures taken by Sharp and his
coadjutors, if the pliable agents of his cu-
pidity deserve to be so named, bore fatal
marks of that perverse genius by which they
were conceived. Instead of endeavoring to
break in the restiff spirit of presbyterianism
by gentle usage and gradual loading, with a
desperate hand he at once buckled on the
saddle, and laid on the whole weight of the
episcopal colossus. In pursuance of this pol-
icy it was enacted, even before the bishops
left London, that presbyteries and judicato-
ries should be abolished. This imprudent
decree was followed up by an act, asserting
the king's ecclesiastical supremacy, rein-
stating the bishops in their parliamentary
privileges and civil dignities, and conferring
On them an exclusive presidency in church
meetings, the power of ordination and of
censure, with whatever else appertains to
the administration, and jurisdiction of the
church. It was added, indeed, that in the
exercise of their functions they were to ad-
vise with certain loyal and prudent clergy-
men. Yet, as their assessors were to be se-
lected by themselves, and were not empow-
ered collectively to enforce an opinion con-
trary to their diocesan's, it is clear that any
check they could maintain on the despotism
of the bench would be of small account.
All real authority was lodged with the bish-
op; and his clerical advisers were mere ci-
phers, to whom was allotted the unenviable
privilege of sharing with their principal the
Odium of arbitrary proceedings, which they
were not competent either to prevent or
modify.
Such was the present scheme of episco-
pacy, widely different from that of the year
1612, when the bishops affected nothing
more than to be settled presidents, to have a
negative voice in all questions relating to ec-
clesiastical jurisdiction, and some superior
authority in ordination. This hasty attempt
to force on a people, to whom presbytery
was dear “ as a wife of youth,” the highest
kind of prelacy, was certainly to pour new
wine into old bottles. It could not but pro-
duce a disastrous explosion. . But nothing
could stay the precipitance of that misguided
man, who seems to have expected, in the
pride of his new-blown grandeur, that diffi-
culties would vanish at his touch. He did
not, it is allowed, ever carry his episcopal
powers to the full extent permitted by this
act of parliament. Still the passing of such
an act furnished those who refused the new
model with a plausible justification; and ex-
hibited the capital solecism in policy, of ma-
king a legislative invasion of the popular
rights and feelings more considerable in the
terms of the enactment than it was really
meant to be in the execution.
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
19
In his fixed aversion to worldly honors,
Leighton besought his friends not to give
him the appellation of Lord, and was uneasy
at ever being addressed by that title. By
this singularity he gave umbrage to his col-
leagues, and laid himself open to the charge
of an affectation, proceeding from narrow-
minded squeamishness, if not from a refine-
ment of vanity: or, indeed, this solicitude to
divest his office of its usual dignities might
be ill-naturedly ascribed to his not being
thoroughly satisfied with the function itself,
and seeking to compound with his conscience
by a sacrifice of external distinction.
Shortly after their arrival in Edinburgh,
the bishops were formally invited to take
their seats in parliament; not that any invi-
tation was requisite to authorize their at-
tendance, but it was deemed a proper token
of respect. By all, except the Bishop of
Dunblane, the call was obeyed. He re-
solved from the beginning never to mix in
parliament, unless some matter affecting the
interests of religion were in agitation; and
to this resolution he steadily adhered.
His first appearance in parliament was on
the question respecting the oath of suprem-
acy. This oath was so worded as to carry
on the face of it no demand, beyond what
the presbyterians were willing to admit,
namely, that the king should be recognised
for the civil head of the church as well as
of the state. Yet there was something in
the phraseology so equivocal as to warrant a
suspicion, that it was artfully contrived for
a handle by which the sovereign might in-
terfere, at pleasure, and with absolute au-
thority, in the internal regulation of the
church. In England such explanations were
given, when the oath was tendered, as
brought it within the compass of a presby-
terian conscience. But when it was required
by the Earl of Cassilis, and by other stout
covenanters in the parliament of Scotland,
that the necessary qualification for reconciling
its provisions to their scruples should be in-
serted into the body of the act, or, at least,
be subjoined to their subscriptions, the High
Commissioner would not listen to the de-
mand. Leighton now stepped forward, the
fearless champion, the eloquent advocate of
moderation and charity. He maintained that
trammeling men's consciences with so many
rigorous oaths could only produce laxity of
moral principle, or unchristian bigotry and
party feeling. With respect to the oath
itself, he would not dissemble his opinion
that it was susceptible of a bad sense;
and, therefore, the tenderness of conscience,
which refused to take it without guarding
against an evil construction, ought not to be
derided. The English papists had obtained
this indulgence; and it was strange indeed
if protestants were to be more hardly dealt
by. When, in reply to this spirited remon-
strance, it was contended by Sharp, that the
complaining party, in the days of its ascen-
dency, had been little tender of the con-
Sciences of those who revolted at the Sol-
emn League and Covenant, Leighton ex-
claimed at the unworthiness of retaliating by
measures which had been so justly repro-
bated; and he emphatically pointed out the
nobler course of heaping coals upon the
heads of adversaries, by the contrast of epis-
copal mildness with presbyterian severity.
For them to practise, for the base purpose of
quitting scores, the same rigor against which
they had vehemently protested when them-
selves were the victims of it, would be a foul
blot on their Christian character, and would
justify the sarcasm, that the world goes mad
by turns. However solid these arguments
were, they made no impression on the Earl
of Middleton and his creatures, whose pro-
ject it was to have the oath of that ambig-
uous cast, which should deter the stiffer
covenanters from taking it, who would there-
. become liable to the penalties of disloy-
alty. One can not without pain admit an
opinion that bears so hard upon the probity
and humanity of the royal party. Yet this
is not a solitary instance of an oath being
artfully shaped to entrap persons, whom state
policy has marked for its victims. Leighton
used to observe, with some reference no
doubt to this transaction, that a bónsolidation
of the episcopal and presbyteriapºplatforms,
had it been judiciously and sincerely at-
tempted at the outset, might have been ac-
complished; but there were some evil spirits
at work, “whose device it was plainly again
to scatter us: and the terms of Comprehen-
sion were made so strait, in order to keep
men out.” It was a transaction, however,
that gave an illustrious prominence to his
own extraordinary virtues, to his enlightened
charity, his inexorable honesty, and his gen-
erous courage. ~
Leighton thought with St. Augustin, that
a bishopric is not intended for pastime and
amusement: “Episcopatus non est artificium
transigendae vitae.” He therefore resided con-
stantly on his see, and his holy ministrations
watered the places about him with a blessing.
Not content to repose in lazy state, he regard-
ed himself as a shepherd of souls, and went
about from parish to parish catechising and
preaching. But his primary aim was to heał
the fountains; for he justly considered that if
ministers were to become sound in doctrine,
exemplary in personal conduct, and sedulous
in pastoral duties, the fruits of their spiritual-
ity and zeal would quickly appear in the
amended state of their parishes. It would
be difficult to do justice to the sense he en-
tertained of the immense responsibility of
Christian ministers. For himself, as his prac-
tice bears witness, he always desired the
smallest cure; partly from native humility,
and partly from an apprehension, so lively as
to be almost terrible, of the account which
must be given in by spiritual overseers at the
great tribunal. Oſten would he commiserate
20
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
those of the London clergy the extent of
whose cures made it impracticable to pay
each individual of their flock the attention
his soul required. “Theirs,” he observed,
“is rightly called cura animarum ;” a con-
cern, he seems to have meant, full of anxiety
and peril. “Were I again,” he said in his
last retirement, “to be a parish minister, I
must follow sinners to their houses, and even
to their alehouses.” As one of the faults im-
puted to the episcopal clergy was unskilful-
ness in preaching, he was solicitous to re-
move from his own diocess all color for this
allegation. This he knew could never be
effected until the pulpits were filled by holy
men. “It is vain,” he would say, “for any
one to speak of divine things, without some-
thing of divine affections. An ungodly cler-
gyman must feel uneasy when preaching
godliness, and will hardly preach it persua-
sively. He has not been able to prevail on
himself to be holy, and no marvel if he fail
of prevailing on others. In truth, he is in
#. danger of being hardened against re-
igion by the frequent inculcation of it, if it
fail of melting him.”
The following extract from a letter, in
which he offers a living to one of his clergy,
affords a beautiful specimen of Christian po-
liteness, at the same time that it lets us into
the bishop's sense of the temper and affec-
tion with which a charge of souls should be
undertaken :—
“SIR : There is one place indeed in my
precinct now vacant, and yet undisposed of,
by the voluntary removal of the young man
who was in it to a better benefice; and this
ls likewise in my hand, but it is of so wretch-
edly mean provision, that I am ashamed to
name it, little I think above five hundred
marks [less than 30l. Sterling] by year. If
the many instances of that kind you have
read have made you in love with voluntary
poverty, there you may have it; but where-
soever you are, or shall be, for the little rest
of your time, I hope you are, and still will
be, daily advancing in that blest poverty of
spirit that is the only true height and great-
ness of spirit in all the world, entitling to a
crown, “for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
Oh, what are the scraps that the great ones
of this world are scrambling for compared
with that pretension I pray you, as you
find an opportunity, though possibly little or
no inclination to it, yet bestow one line or
two upon
“Your poor friend and servant, “ R. L.”
The following letter to the heritors” ºf the
parish of Stratton, places in a clear light the
upright yet sagacious policy by which Leigh-
ton managed to fill the vacant benefices with
pious men, and to conciliate the goodwill of
the parishioners to their new pastors.
* The heritors of a parish are the owners of the
real property within it.
“WoRTHY GENTLEMEN AND FRIENDs: Be-
ing informed that it is my duty to present a
person, fit for the charge of the ministry now
vacant with you, I have thought of one whose
integrity and piety I am so fully persuaded
of, that I dare confidently recommend him to
you, as one who, if the hand of God do bind
that work upon him among you, is likely,
through the blessing of the same hand, to be
very serviceable to the building up of your
Souls heavenward; but is as far from suffer-
ing himself to be obtruded, as I am from ob-
truding any upon you; so that unless you in-
Vite him to preach, and after hearing him,
declare your consent and desire toward his
embracing of the call, you may be secure
from the trouble of hearing any further con-
cerning him, either from himself or me; and
if you please to let me know your mind,
your reasonable satisfaction shall be to my
utmost power endeavored by
“Your affectionate friend
“And humble servant,
“R. LEIGHTON.”
The charges of this venerable prelate to
the clergy of the diocesan synod of Dunblane
are valuable and interesting records, as well
On account of the sterling good sense and
piety with which they abound, as of the light
they shed on his professional character and
deportment. From the instructions, which
he found it necessary to issue in the year of
his inauguration, it may be inferred that the
district over which he presided had not made
much proficiency in godliness under presby-
terian pedagogy. He prescribed such rules
of worship and discipline as were indicated
by the disorders of the existing system, and
were adapted to correct the flagrant im-
moralities of the time and place. Officiating
ministers were directed to read portions of
the Old and New Testaments, not after the
irreverent manner hitherto in vogue, of ma-
king it a bywork while the congregation was
assembling, but as an integral and important
part of the service. It was the bishop's
wish, that the Lord’s prayer, the Apostles'
creed, and the doxology, should be restored
to more frequent use; that a weekly day
should be appointed for catechising ; and that
an easy compendium of Christian doctrine
should be agreed upon by his clergy, to be
made the basis of catechetical instructions to
the young and the ignorant. Probably the
short catechism which is among his printed
works, was composed for this purpose. The
sermons of that period generally ran in a
high strain of controversy. Against this the
bishop set his face; and he labored to bring
into the place of subtle and passionate dis-
putations, a modest and sober style of preach-
ing, that should be level to the capacities
and calculated to mend the morals of the
vulgar. On the ignorance and viciousness
of the people in general he touches sorrow-
fully; and he warns his clergy against slack-
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
21
ness and timidity in reproving the prevalent
sins of their respective parishes. Large por-
tions of holy scripture were preferred by him
as subjects for sermons, to single texts; for he
thought they offered more scope for pithy
practical remark, and were better calculated
to lay hold on the attention of the auditory.
Though friendly to a grave and masculine
eloquence of which he was himself no com-
mon master, yet his chief desire was, that
discourses from the pulpit should be simple
and perspicuous. After hearing a plain and
homely sermon he expressed the highest
satisfaction; “For the good, man,” said he,
in reference to the preacher, “seems in ear-
nest to catch souls.” The measure of speech,
he remarked, and it is a remark well worthy
of being preserved, ought to be the character
of the audience, which is made up for the
most part of illiterate persons.
Any deliberate opinion of this great man
must deserve respect, even when it may not
command acquiescence. It would, therefore,
be wrong to omit mentioning, that he dis-
liked the practice of reading sermons, a prac-
tice scarcely known across the seas; being of
opinion that it detracted much from the
weight and authority of preaching. “I know
ſhe said] that weakness of the memory is
pleaded in excuse for this custom; but bet-
ter minds would make better memories.
Such an excuse is unworthy of a man, and
much more of a father, who may want vent
indeed in addressing his children, but ought
never to want matter. Like Elihu, he should
be refreshed by speaking.”
Although disposed to lenity, he was not
regardless of discipline. Gross offences com-
mitted in his diocess were to be branded with
church censures; and the restoration of of.
fenders to the communion of the church was
to be delayed till indubious symptoms of re-
pentance had shown themselves.
It was among his pious plans to bring
about a more frequent celebration of the
‘lord's Supper, which, in those days, was not
n every place so much as an annual cere-
inony; and he wished the people to be care-
fully instructed in the spiritual import of this
holy rite, and to be frequently exhorted to
maintain a constant fitness for it by uniform
blamelessness of conversation. He also made
it incumbent on his clergy to promote the
practice of family worship, and to exercise a
watchful superintendence over their flocks,
bearing the spiritual burdens of every mem-
ber, and dealing out to each, as his case
might require, instruction, or counsel, or re-
proof, or consolation.
It has already been stated how careful he
was to put his clergy in remembrance that
no substantial good could be expected from
their ministrations, unless they were them-
selves remarkable for sanctity of heart and
life; men of prayer, of study, and medita-
tion ; of “great contempt of this present
World, and inflamed affections toward heav-
en;” whose pure and peaceable demeanor,
full of mercy and good fruits, should stamp
them for the sons of God and servants of the
meek and lowly Jesus. Moreover he con-
sidered a singular modesty and gravity, even
in externals, such as their apparel and the
adjustment of their hair, to be highly be-
coming in ministers, whose profession it was
to give themselves wholly to the care of im-
mortal souls.
Having these things much at heart, he
gave in a paper at the synod of 1667, in
which, after a most conciliatory introduction,
and blaming himself for having, through
averseness to lord it over Christ's heritage,
been more backward to advise them than
perhaps his situation demanded, he proceeds
to urge the importance of adding life and
efficacy to those “privy trials,” in which the
presbyters used to examine each other for
mutual correction and edification. This pro-
cess, he is satified, might be made exceed-
ingly salutary, to those who were declining
in zeal and diligence, were entangled in doc-
trinal errors, or were in any way swerving
from the path of ministerial duty; provided
they were so conducted as to constrain a man
to serious reflection upon himself; and with
a view to their being rendered thus useful,
he lays down some admirable rules, which
are included in the body of his works.
Let it here be noticed how remote this
holy man is from an imperious and domineer-
ing exercise of his authority. Instead of ex-
acting submission from his clergy by per-
emptoriness and menaces; he industriously
waives the superior character of a bishop,
and bespeaks their obedience by urbanity and
gentleness. It is asserted by Wodrow and
others, that the clergy of Dunblane were no-
toriously ignorant and disorderly. I have
met with nothing to corroborate this heavy
charge; and from their diocesan’s pastoral
letters and addresses it is rather to be infer-
red that their defects have been overstated,
or else were greatly corrected during his ad-
ministration. He seems to have judged it
expedient to raise them as nearly to a level
with himself, as the indispensable dignity
of episcopal government would allow ; and
whatever alterations he thought necessary
were proposed in the shape of friendly sug-
gestion, and not of overbearing dictation.
The only priority he sought was in labors;
the only ascendency he coveted was in self-
denial and holiness; and in these respects he
had few competitors for pre-eminence.
Proceeding steadily upon these principles,
and exerting all his influence to impart to
others the same fervency of spirit, he drew
upon himself the eyes of all Scotland, which
gazed with amazement at his bright and
singular virtues, as at a star of unrivalled
brilliance newly added to the sky. Even the
presbyterians were softened by his Christian
urbanity and condescension, and were con-
strained to admit that on him had descended
22
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
a double portion of the apostolic spirit. Had
his colleagues in office been kin to him in
temper, it is not extravagant to believe that
the attempt to restore episcopacy would have
had a more prosperous issue.
As there is no record of Leighton having
taken a prominent part in the settlement of
the church, during the earlier part of his
episcopacy, we may assume that he confined
himself to private advice and expostulation;
hoping that, when the happy results of his
own pacific proceedings should be visible,
the other bishops would be induced to follow
in his track. But it soon became apparent,
that the plans in progress for extirpating the
presbyterian discipline were diametrically
opposite to the dictates of wisdom and mer-
cy. I find him expressing himself, in allu-
sion no doubt to the leading men of this pe-
riod, with a poignant recollection of the self-
ish craft by which they were characterized.
Seeing them destitute of Christian simplicity
and singleness of purpose, he lost all heart
about the issue of their measures; and desig-
nated them, in spiritual language, empty
vines bringing forth fruit unto themselves.
“I have met with many cunning plotters,”
he would say, “but with few truly honest
and skilful undertakers. Many have I seen
who were wise and great as to this world,
but of such as are willing to be weak that
others may be strong, and whose only aim it
is to promote the prosperity of Zion, have I
not found one in ten thousand.”
Having made these afflicting discoveries,
and finding all his efforts to put things in
a better train quite ineffectual, Leighton
thought he should be justified in laying
down the charge, which he had taken up,
not as a dignity, but as a cross and burden.
He resolved, however, to go up to London in
the first instance, and to lay before the royal
eye, which had hitherto been deluded with
fallacious representations, a faithful picture
of the distempered and convulsed state of
Scotland. Having obtained an interview
with Charles, he declared that the severities
practised upon objectors to the new establish-
ment were such as his conscience could not
justify, even for the sake of planting Chris-
tianity in a heathen land; and much less
could he agree to them for an end so com-
paratively insignificant, as that of substitu-
ting one form of ecclesiastical government
for another. He therefore besought permis-
sion to resign his bishopric, lest by retaining
it he should seem to be a party to violences,
at which his principles and feelings revolted.
His majesty professed disapprobation of the
manner in which the affairs of the church
were administered by Sharp, and seemed
touched by the pathetic arguments of the vir-
tuous advocate of toleration. He pledged
himself to stop that application of the secu-
lar sword, against which Leighton protested;
and he actually annulled the ecclesiastical
commission, which pretended to goad dis-
senters into conformity by fines and jails and
corporal punishments. But he would not
hear of Leighton’s vacating his see; and the
bishop consented at length to retain it, as he
could not be unaware that, by persisting in
his purpose of retirement, ne would throw
away every chance of holding the king to
those engagements, into which he had just
been impelled for the prosperity of the
church.
Leighton had so fully made up his mind to
withdraw at this time from his station, that
he had bidden a solemn farewell to his clergy
before his departure for London. After wind-
ing up the regular business of the synod in
October, 1665, he informed them that there
was a matter which, though of little con-
cern to them and the church, he still thought
it his duty to notify to them. He then
announced his attention of retiring; and
the reasons he assigned for it were, the
sense he entertained of his own unworthi-
ness to sustain so high an office, and his
weariness of those contentions, which had
clothed the household of God in mourning,
and seemed to be rather increasing than
abating. “For myself, brethren, I have to
thank you for the undeserved respect and
kindness which I have all along experienced
at your hands. Let me entreat your good
construction of the poor endeavors I have
used to serve you, and to assist you in pro-
moting the work of the ministry and th
great designs of the gospel. If in anything,
whether by word or deed, I have given you
offence, or unnecessarily pained a single in-
dividual among you, I do earnestly and hum-
bly crave forgiveness. My last advice to
you is, that you continue in the study of
peace and holiness, and grow and abound in
love to your great Lord and Master, and to
the souls for which he died. Finally, breth-
ren, farewell; be perfect, be of good com-
fort, be of one mind, live in peace, and the
God of peace and love shall be with you.
Amen.”
About two years afterward, the growing
calamities of the church called for prompt
and vigorous remedies. It was decreed by
the council, that all incumbents should ob-
tain presentation from the patrons and epis-
copal institution, or forthwith resign their
benefices. This intemperate act, of which
the credit is given to Bishop Fairfowl, occa-
sioned all at once a great number of vacan-
cies, which fit and able men were not at
hand to supply. Had the most considerable
of the nonconformist ministers been gradu-
ally and quietly superseded, an explosion of
popular wrath might have been avoided.
But when, in addition to the grievance of be-
ing deprived of their own ministers, the con-
gregations were required to receive, in the
room of these revered pastors, men whose
morals were not always clear of reproach,
and who were mostly ill-provided with
learning and piety for a ministerial charge.
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
23
their disgust at prelatical innovations settled
into a ferocious antipathy to the new consti-
tution of the church.
It was the misfortune of these times,
moreover, that owing to the king's dislike
of business, and his immoral levity, the gov-
ernment took its tone from the views or
whims of the principal minister of the reign-
ing favorite for the time being ; and public
measures were in perpetual mutation. There
was no steady hand, endued with competent
force and authority to prevent the most bane-
ful fluctuations of the body politic. Not that
the unsteadiness of the helm should be at-
tributed to the monarch's capriciousness or
Supineness alone. It proceeded, in part,
from the difficulty he found in carrying on to-
gether his two favorite objects, of pulling
down presbyterianism, and building up po-
pery : it being hard to inflict a blow upon
the former without wounding the latter; or
to enact laws favorable to the catholic dis-
senter, the benefit of which should not ex-
tend to the presbyterian. Nothing, however,
could be more adverse to the settlement of
Scotch affairs, than such a vacillating ad-
ministration. At times, the bishops were
armed with almost unlimited powers for the
subversion of presbytery : but before suffi-
cient space had been allowed for the success
of a resolute despotism, if despotic measures
could have succeeded, their powers were
abridged ; a clog was put on their career of
intolerance; and the other party, from being
discouraged and enfeebled, was roused to
fresh hope and resistance. Then, a sudden
recourse to arbitrary measures would cut
short the experiment of conciliation; or it
would be tried on too limited and partial a
scale to answer any other purpose, than that
of making the subsequent severities, or those
which were all the while going forward in
other districts, to be the more conspicuous
and galling.
Resuming the thread of our narration, we
are to relate the proceedings of the Bishop
of Dunblane, in the year 1607, in conjunction
with Lord Tweedale, who possessed, ac-
cording to Burnet's estimate, true benevo-
lence, with much political talent and infor-
mation, but was over-cautious and timid, and
too prone to side with any government.
This nobleman, who fortunately had the
chief confidence of Lauderdale, viewed with
an aching heart the disorders of his country,
and vigorously applied himself to heal them
before they should be grown incurable. He
saw at once that Leighton was the proper
man to be at the head of the ecclesiastical
administration;” and indeed it was high time
* The following extract from the history of Scot-
land by Sir George Mackenzie, who was a leading
character in these times, and lord advocate, will be
appropriate in this part of our narrative :—
“The debates and transactions which fell in at
this time discovered very much to our statesmen,
how far each of the present clergy stood affected to
&
for some capable man to be fixed in that sta-
tion, since, as matters now went on, the busi-
ness of the church constituted more than
two thirds of the whole business of the state.
Accordingly he spared no pains to engage
Leighton's co-operation; and in order to
that co-operation being made more effec-
tual, he let slip no opportunity of impres-
sing the king with an opinion of his superla-
tive merits, and of his competence to the
chief direction of ecclesiastical affairs. Had
he succeeded in this project, it was his hope
to winnow the church, by degrees, of those
vain and worthless characters with which it
was infested ; and to bring in a set of men
who would adorn their profession, and rec-
ommend the episcopal frame by undeniable
piety and talent. How far Leighton fell in
with this excellent design, as it concerned
his own advancement, is not related; but he
consented to undertake another fatiguing
journey to London, and again to implore the
redress of those grievances, under which the
church was wasting away. On this second
visit, he had two audiences of Charles, in
which he fulfilled the duty of a faithful am-
bassador. He exposed without disguise the
distempered state of the realm, and showed
how those diseases, which might have yield-
ed to gentle and seasonable renaedies, had
been exasperated by harsh and empirical
treatment. His first object was to awaken
the king to the necessity of adopting healing
measures without delay, as the only means
the supremacy of the civil magistrates in church af.
fairs, and in what they approved or º the
late indulgence; for #. advice of many churchmen,
not properly interested, was asked at this time, ra.
ther to know their inclination, than for information:
aud it was easily found, that the Bishop of Dunblane
was the most proper and fit person to serve the state
in the church, according to the present platform of
government now resolved upon : for he was in much
esteem for his piety and moderation, among the peo-
ple, as to which the presbyterians themselves could
neither reproach nor equal him; albeit they hated
him most of all his fraternity, in respect he drew
many into a kindness for episcopacy, by his exem-
plary life, rather than debates. His great principle
was, that devotion was the great affair about which
churchmen should employ themselves ; and that the
gaining of souls, and not the external government,
was their proper task: nor did he esteem it fit, and
scarce lawful to churchmen, to sit in councils and
judicatories, these being diversions from the main.
And albeit his judgment did lead him to believe the
church of England the best model of all others, both
for doctrine and discipline, yet did he easily conform
with the practice of the Christians among whom he
lived, and therefore lived peaceably under presbytery,
till it was abolished : and when he undertook to be
bishop himself, he opposed all violent courses, where-
by men were forced to comply with the present wor-
ship, beyond their persuasions; and he granted a lat-
itude and indulgence to those of his own diocess, be-
fore the king had allowed any by his letter . This
made the world believe, that he was the author to
his majesty of that public indulgence; and the states-
men who were unwilling to be authors of an innova-
tion, which some there thought might prove danger.
ous, were well satisfied to have it so believed: but,
however, these principles rendered him a fit instru.
ment in their present undertakings.”—Page 161.
24
THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
9.
of averting a fatal crisis. Then, without
hazarding a premature exposure of the ex-
pedients which were dictated by the present
exigency, he humbly advised that an attempt
should be made, by some act of comprehen-
sion, to draw the more temperate of the
presbyterian party within the pale of the
establishment; and he advertised his majes-
ty of the danger he would run of losing epis-
copacy altogether, by refusing to surrender
any of its appendages. The ship would sail
less gallantly, it was true, with her topmasts
cut away; but that was her only chance of
outriding the, tempest.
The king professed to fall in with the
moderate measures recommended by Lord
Tweedale and Leighton. But the passions
of the covenanters had been allowed to effer-
vesce so long, and they were so incensed by
the king's breach of faith, and by the oppres-
siveness of the High Commission, that it
was hardly to be expected that any ministe-
rial filters, how artfully soever compounded,
would avail to charm back their affections.
Nor were the presbyterian chieftains remiss
or unskilful in fomenting the popular discon-
tent. A breath from them would have ex-
tinguished the smoking firebrand ; but that
breath was applied to fan it into a flame.
Young and fiery preachers ranged up and
down the country, sounding the tocsin of the
covenant, and warning the people against
the deadly plague of the prelatic leprosy.
The cause of presbyterianism against episco-
pacy was the battle of Jehovah with Baal.
It was a holy war for the rescue of the ark
of the covenant from the hands of uncircum-
cised Philistines: and it was set forth under
such aspects, as should respectively attract
both the bad and the good ;-miscreants,
who loved tumult, and throve by the disor-
ders of the commonwealth, along with men
of a tender conscience or a resolute piety.
Accordingly, these fanatical incendiaries had
great success. The rabble were lashed into
madness by having their wrongs and their
duties perpetually rung in their ears; and
being countenanced, it is to be feared, by
men above the rabble in birth and education,
but not in moderation and virtue, they scru-
pled at nothing that might evince their ha-
tred to the episcopal incumbents, and compel
them to withdraw. To this end, affronts and
indignities were heaped upon their heads:
they could not pass to and from church, in
the discharge of their clerical duties, without
encountering volleys of reproaches and cur-
ses, or even missiles more dangerous to their
persons. Their houses were no longer a
sanctuary ; their property was plundered,
and their lives were attempted. Worn out by
this series of persecutions, and despairing of a
change for the better, many of these unhap-
py curates abandoned their parishes, a few
with some, but most without any, pecuniary
compensation.
While the flimsy fabric of episcopacy was
rocking in this tempest, the spirit of infatua-
tion had fallen on all the bishops except
Leighton ; and his gracular voice, though lift-
ed up boldly, was drowned in the clamor for
pushing forward the new system without
pause or relaxation. He persisted, however,
in those pacific measures, which the king
had engaged to sanction. He tried to per-
suade the leading statesmen to second them
with their authority; and he suggested the
expediency of repealing those absurd laws,
which rated the episcopal authority far
higher than any of the bishops dared to car-
ry into practice. Taking notice of the ex-
traordinary concessions made by the African
Church to the Donatists, who were to the
full as extravagant as the people of his own
day, he was an advocate for going a great
way toward meeting their demands, and for
so lengthening the cords and stretching out
the curtains, of the episcopal frame, as to
take in all the covenanters who were not im-
placable recusants. Although the conces-
Sions, to which he was prepared to proceed,
went near to vacate the episcopal office, yet
he thought them justified by the improbabil-
ity of their permanence; for he counted that
when the present race of untameable zealots
was laid in the grave, and an era of peace
had allowed scope for a revival of good
sense and charity, there would be a read-
iness on the part of the people to reinvest
the bishop with such prerogatives as he had
been unreasonably compelled to sacrifice at
the shrine of religious concord.
The articles proposed by Leighton for the
basis of an accommodation, are reported by
Burnet in nearly the following words:—
1. That the church should be governed by
the bishops and their clergy, mixing together
in the church judicatories, in which the
bishop should act only as a president, and be
determined by the majority of his presbyters,
both in matters of jurisdiction and ordination.
2. That the presbyters should be allowed,
when they first sat down in their judicato-
ries, to declare that their sitting under a
bishop was submitted to by them for peace
sake; with a reservation of their opinion
with relation to any such presidency; and
i. no negative vote should be claimed by the
bishop.
3. £hat bishops should go to the churches,
in which such as were candidates for ordina-
tion were to serve, and hear and discuss any
exceptions that were made to them, and or-
dain them with the concurrence of the pres-
bytery.
4. That such as were to be ordained should
have leave to declare their opinion, if they
held that the bishop was only the head of
the presbyters. . .
5. That provincial synods should sit in
course every third year, or oftener if the king
summoned them ; in which complaints of the
bishops should be received, and they should
be censured according to their deserts.
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
25
It was not to be expected that such a
scheme would go down smoothly with the
patrons of the new system. There was an
outcry against it as a measure subversive of
episcopacy, which it certainly despoiled of
some capital dignities and powers. Against
this Leighton urged, that it was better to de-
press episcopacy below the scriptural model,
than to suffer the church to continue a prey
to those factions, which had already carried
a sword into its bowels. He further essayed
to sooth the indignant prelatists, by show-
ing how probable it was that the locks, of
which episcopacy was unhandsomely shorn,
would rapidly grow again ; and that, like a
moulted eagle, it would ere long, soar aloft
with renovated strength and richer plumage.
As there is no reason, on the One hand, to
suspect the bishop of Dunblane of having
held out hopes, to propitiate the high episco-
palians, which he thought unlikely to be veri-
fied, so on the other hand, there is not the
slightest ground for charging him with du-
plicity, because, while proposing an exces-
sive abasement of the episcopal office, he an-
ticipated its partial redintegration. Had he
artfully shaped the proposed constitution, so
as to leave a handle by which the bishops
might recover their abdicated authority ; or
had he purposely made the machinery É.i.
to accidents and embarassments, which it
would need an augmentation of the episco-
pal influence to remedy, he would justly
have incurred the reproach of double deal-
ing. But it is obvious that he studied, with
the greatest good faith, to accommodate his
plan to the presbyterian taste as nearly as
the government with which he acted would
endure. No doubt he foresaw the likelihood
of the presbyterian ministers themselves, as
soon as the fever of faction and bigotry
should be allayed, unclosing their eyes to the
inconvenience of so immoderately retrench-
ing the powers of their chief functionary.
Such foresight is creditable to his penetra-
tion, without disparagement to his integrity.
In order to form an adequate estimate of this
great bishop's merits, it is necessary to re-
flect upon the extraordinary difficulties with
which he had to contend. He was media-
ting between two fierce parties, who agreed
in nothing but unkind suspicions of himself;
and it was hardly within the compass of hu-
man skill and wisdom, in that squally season,
to steer so exactly through a narrow and in-
tricate channel, as to escape the rocks on one
side without striking upon those on the
other. It was his difficult task to keep on
terms with the impatient arrogance of the
episcopal party, at the same time that he ac-
commodated himself to the crabbed humors
and contracted genius of the nonconformists.
He had at Once to propitiate jealous adver-
saries, and to obviate the misconduct of luke-
warm or dishonest confederates. One while
he was thwarted by the king's despotic jeal-
ousies, and again he was traversed by the
selfish wiliness of Lauderdale. That he
should have done so much, and endured so
bravely, must therefore be ascribed to a zeal,
a diligence, a constancy, a wisdom, an un-
quenchable benevolence, and a valorous self-
devotion, before which everything bent but
the inflexible sinews of relentless bigotry.
It was the Earl of Kirkadine’s advice, that
no treaty should be attempted with the pres-
byterians; but that whatever concessions it
might be thought expedient to make, should
pass into laws: and he hoped that, when
they saw nothing further was to be expected
from holding out, they would accede to the
new arrangements. In this opinion Leighton
fully concurred ; but Lord Lauderdale refus-
ed his assent, with a sinister purpose, it was
shrewdly suspected, of frustrating the at-
tempt at accommodation. It was then re-
solved to try whether anything could be
effected by private negotiation. With this
view Burnet was sent to Hutchinson,” who
was connected with him by marriage, and
was esteemed the most learned man of that
party, to sound his sentiments on the com-
prehension, but not to propose it officially.
The wary minister took care, however, not
to commit himself, observing that he was
but one of many, and his opinion that of a
simple individual. All he would say was,
that the project was not in his eyes very
promising: but he reserved his sentence on
the particular concessions proposed, until they
should be ratified by competent authority.
Shortly after this abortive nagotiation, the
experiment was tried of granting some of the
vacant churches to the most moderate of the
presbyterian ministers. The adoption of this
measure was accelerated, if not occasioned,
by a letter of Burnet to Lord Tweedale, in
which he strongly advised it; and being
known to cherish an almost filial reverence
for Leighton, it was naturally presumed that
he was the organ of the bishop's sentiments.
The fact is, however, that the letter in ques-
tion had not been imparted to Leighton; nor
would it, there is reason to think, have ob-
tained his concurrence.
This measure, which was contrary to the
law that had vested the right of parochial
institution in the bishops, was productive of
little or no advantage. The indulged minis-
ters could not, in common decency, launch
out against the episcopal platform; and they
were driven to preach more on Christian doc-
trine and practice than suited the temper of
the times. Hence they fell under a reproach
with their several congregations, which pre-
vented their usefulness; and what with the
contemptuous invectives of the non-indulged
ministers on the one hand, and the unkind
* George Hutchinson was educated at Glasgow, and
was accounted one of the greatest preachers of the
presbyterian party. He was a learned, man, and
wrote on the twelve Minor Prophets, on the book of
Job, and on the gospel of St John. He died in the
year 1674.
4
26
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
reception they met with from the presbyte-
rian laity on the other, they seem to have
rapidly sunk into a state of cowardice and
supineness, which extinguished all the hopes
that had been raised on their appointment.
In November, 1669, a bill was laid before
the parliament of Scotland, well known as
the Assertory Act, which carried to an ex-
orbitant extent the royal prerogative. It as-
serted, that “all things relating to the ex-
termal government of the church belonged to
the crown; and that all things relating to
ecclesiastical meetings, matters, and persons,
were to be ordered according to such direc-
tions as the king should send to his privy
council.” There is reason to believe that a
leading object with the devisors of this bill
was, to curry favor with the heir presump-
tive to the throne, by paving the way for the
ingress of popery. Yet it was artfully con-
trived to catch the passions of the presbyte-
rians, who thought the chance would be im-
proved for the abolition of prelacy, if it rest-
ed with an individual to abrogate it at any
time with a single dash of the pen, than if it
could only be effected through the tedious
formalities and contentious proceedings of par-
liament. Some moderate men, Lord Twee-
dale avowedly, and probably the Bishop of
Dunblane, regarded this measure with more
favor, or strictly speaking with less aversion,
than it merited ; for they imagined that it
was designed only to justify the Indulgence,
and to remove impediments out of the way
of that pacific policy on which the king had
entered. It is to be lamented that Leighton
should have been inveigled by these consider-
ations into voting for a measure, which added
Such dangerous powers to the crown. It was
not, indeed, till after many demurs, and in-
sisting upon several modifications, that he at
length yielded it his suffrage; but what was
his indignation at finding interpolated in the
bill, when it came out with the royal sanc-
tion, the momentous words “ecclesiastical
affairs;” while sundry saving and explana-
tory clauses, which had been inserted at his
instance in the rough draught, were omit-
ted | Such a scandalous fraud is very cred-
ible of the profligate statesmen of those ini-
quitous times, and will go far, with candid
minds, to windicate the bishop from the
blame of incaution; but to the end of his
days he reflected on this affair with self-re-
proach, and bitterly regretted that his judg-
ment should have slumbered on such an oc-
casion.
The first exertion of the authority vested
In the sovereign by this bill was the removal
of Archbishop Burnet from Glasgow, in which
see he had earned but a sorry reputation for
episcopal virtues. Immediately after his de-
posal, Leighton was pressed by the Earls of
Lauderdale and Tweedale to accept the va-
cant dignity. To this proposal he testified
the utmost repugnance, and indeed pertina-
ciously withstood it, till he was induced to be-
lieve that his translation to a sphere of such
extensive influence would bring him nearer
to the grand and governing object of his
life ; the king’s ministry having engaged to
lend its utmost support to his plan of accomo-
dation. In consequence of this promotion, he
received a summons to court; and in his way
up to London he called on Dr. Gilbert Burmet,
who then filled the chair of divinity at Glas-
gow. With him he concerted the likeliest
means of composing the feuds of the church ;
a work in which he had embarked with the
spirit of a martyr, and which he strenuousl
followed up by labors and watchings, i.
conflicts, defamation, and outrages, with toil
of body and anguish of heart; a dearer price
than he would have consented to give for any
Worldly dignities, but nothing to what he
would have gladly paid down to purchase
the welfare of the Christian Zion.
It has been related that, two years before,
Leighton had intimated pretty plainly to the
king, the necessity of resorting to some ex-
traordinary measures, to rescue the episcopal
church from impending ruin. At that con-
ference, however, he submitted no specific
expedient; fearing, perhaps, to impede his
own designs by overforwardness; and con-
vinced that the measures, which he had in
contemplation, were such as royalty would
never endure, until driven to them by an ob-
vious and urgent necessity. But now that
Charles had learned, from two years' longer
experience, the dangerous folly of attempting
to produce uniformity by compulsion ; and
now that Leighton, by his elevation to the
metropoliton see of Glasgow, stood on more
advantageous ground than heretofore for
dealing plainly with the sovereign, no reason
remained for delay. Mingling policy with
truth, he represented the vast advantage that
would accrue to his majesty’s government, if
the people of Scotland could be brought to a
better temper. Nor was the king insensible
to the sound sense of the archbishop's repre-
sentations. Accordingly he acceded to all
that was demanded of him, and caused a pa-
per of instructions to be drawn up, conform-
able to the archbishop's ideas, and to be
transmitted to the Earl of Lauderdale, ac-
companied with orders to that minister to
obtain the enactment of corresponding laws.
There are symptoms, however, in this trans-
action of Charles of that recklessness of
falsehood, with which he was deeply tainted
both in his domestic and civil character.
Lauderdale, too, was a minister, whose
movements always answered to the wishes
of his profligate master; and it would be
hard to conceive that any good scheme
should pass through such hands without
miscarrying or turning to evil.
When Leighton had compassed this point,
his next endeavor was to generate such a
spirit in his diocess as should favor his con-
ciliatory operations; such a genial atmo.
sphere of holy charity, if the expression may
THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
27
be allowed, as should suit with the medici-
nal process he had instituted for restoring the
health of the country. To do this effectually
it was expedient that he should remove to
Glasgow; the affairs of which see, from a
modest repugnance to assume the archi-epis-
copal dignities, he had hitherto administered
as commendator only, from a distance. In-
deed, it appears from the register of the par-
liamentary council, that, though nominated
and presented, he was never formally trans-
lated to the see of Glasgow. As soon as he
had removed to this city from Dunblane, he
held a synod of his clergy, who were loud in
their complaints of desertion and ill usage,
and craved immediate redress. This appeal
was not answered with promises of compel-
ling the people to attend the church, and of
inflicting fines and other punishments on the
contumacious. . To the surprise and mortifi-
cation of the clergy, who were little accus-
tomed to such doctrines, the only weapons
recommended by their metropolitan were of
ethereal temper; forbearance, conciliation,
and a humble waiting upon God. “Leighton,
in a sermon that he preached to them, and in
several discourses both in public and private,
exhorted them to look up more to God; to con-
sider themselves as the ministers of the cross
of Christ ; to bear the contempt and ill usage
they met with as a cross laid on them for the
exercise of their faith and patience; to lay
aside all the appetites of revenge; to humble
themselves before God; to have many days
for secret fasting and prayers; and to meet
often together, that they might quicken and
assist one another in those holy exercises;
and then they might expect blessings from
heaven upon their labors.”
Not content with these endeavors to im-
prove his clergy, he also went about the
country, taking Burnet with him, on a visit
to the most influential of the indulged minis-
ters, whom he tried to gain over by sound ar-
gumentation and by Christian gentleness.
He let them know that propositions would
shortly be laid before them in a more regular
form, with a view of allaying the heats and
jealousies that now burned so fiercely, of
putting an end to the unhappy differences
that now separated brother from brother, and
of uniting all parties in the bonds of amicable
forbearance at least, if not of perfect unanim-
ity. He also pledged himself that the busi-
ness should be carried on with unreserved
cordiality; that no offers on his part should
be retracted or frittered away; and that, on
being accepted, they should forthwith pass
into laws. But in this embassy of love he
was met with chilling unkindness. Not a
grain of concession could be extorted from
the covenanters; who probably inferred from
the gratuitous advances made toward them
that the balance in the royal counsels was
inclining in their favor. Perhaps, too, they
were the more incapable of appreciating the
* Burnet's History of his own Time; book ii.
frankness and ingenuity of Leighton, through
being practised upon by mischievous emis-
saries, who found it an easy task to confirm
in their obduracy minds more than half sear-
ed by protracted animosities and rancorous
reflections. In their ideas the complete suc-
cess of their party was identified with the
triumph of Christ's church ; and prelatic
domination with the supremacy of Antichrist.
They were debarred by an imperious con-
science from entering into any terms of corn-
position with the impure Spirit, which had
issued from the bottomless pit, and was blast-
ing their goodly Zion; and they dreaded the
condemnation of Saul in the war of Amalek,
should they spare any part of the Babylonish
system from utter extermination. Such were
their principles; and consistent with these
was the welcome given to the archbishop's
overtures for an accommodation. Sometimes,
indeed, his condescension was requited with
absolute incivility and rudeness. He there-
fore returned from his apostolic circuit, dis-
pirited and almost despondent; yet still re-
solved to try the experiment of a solemn and
official congress with the presbyterian lead-
ers; it being possible that some spirits among
them of softer mould might be wrºught upon
to entertain his proposals. Should he attempt
fail, it would still have discovered tº the na-
tion at large, with what party it tested that
the breaches of the church were ºf healed;
and, while it fully acquitted the episcopalians
of intolerance, it would expose the machina-
tions and diminish the credit of the enemies
to peace and unity. ~... ."
The first meeting took place at Holyrood-
House in Edinburgh, on the 9th of August,
1670. Lauderdale, the high commissioner,
with some lords of the council, Leighton,
Professor Burnet, and Patterson, afterward
archbishop of Glasgow, formed thişºarray on
one side ; and on the opposite side appeared
Hutchinson, Wedderburn, Ramsay, and two
other ministers of repute with their party.
Lauderdale opened the meeting with a
conciliatory harangue, in which he besought
the presbyterian disputants to assist the
royal commissioners, in conformity with his
majesty's earnest wishes, to appease the
commotions of the church, and to settle it
anew on a basis of reciprocal concession. He
was followed by Leighton, who dwelt feel-
ingly on the evils of schism, and detailed
the calamities which had already resulted
from the mutual alienation of episcopalians
and anti-episcopalians; but earnestly trusted
that both parties would now co-operate, heart
and hand, in washing out this stain of prot-
estantism, and introducing an era of frater-
nal love and concord. After notifying the
readiness of the bishops to stoop to the
lowest point of defensible condescension in
meeting the presbyterian scruples, he drew
a comparison between the rival platforms;
pointing out the defects inherent in the
presbyterian, and the ground there was

28
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
for concluding that episcopacy had exist-
ed in substance, if not in name, from the
infantile age of Christianity. He labored to
convince them, that many parts of the pres-
byterian discipline were not fortified by apos-
tolic practice, and bore no signature of a di-
vine appointment: that, in establishing a
form of ecclesiastical government, we are
free to institute offices of which the inspired
volume furnishes no precedent, provided
nothing contrary to the orders of Christ, and’
to the spirit of his religion, be admitted;
and that, by Submitting to the episcopal form,
they would not bind themselves to comply
with anything repugnant to the dispensa-
tion of the gospel, nor to tolerate any en-
croachment on the pastoral functions. If,
however, they scrupled to allow of fixed pres-
idents nominated by the sovereign ; or if
they apprehended that along with the presi-
dency some more exceptionable jurisdiction
would accrue to the bishops—against these
contingents they should be at liberty to
enter a prospective protest, in as full and
public a manner as they pleased. Such lati-
tude being granted to tender consciences,
he thought the sacrifices it remained for
them to make could only be refused by fas-
tidious Squeamishness, or vexatious obstina-
cy; and he conjured them to weigh the
whole matter, as in the presence of God,
without respect to party or popularity. No
answer, or none of any consequence, was re-
turned at the time to this powerful address;
but, the following morning, Hutchinson went
with his colleagues, whose prolocutor he
seems to have been, to the archbishop's
chamber, and there argued at length on the
propositions submitted to them the prece-
ding day. Lauderdale wanted an immediate
and positive answer; but from this the min-
isters excused themselves, on the ground
that they could speak only as individuals,
having no authority to stipulate for their
brethren in general. The plea was consid-
ered reasonable, and proceedings were sus-
pended till the 1st of November ; in which
interval they were to collect the sentiments
of their fraternity, and to come to the next
conference prepared with a record, which
might be acted upon as official. Lord Laud-
erdale was naturally haughty and irritable ;
and having been used to the refinement of
courts, he might find it hard to brook, and
would be apt to misconstrue, conscientious
plain-dealing. Certain it is, however, that
he imbibed on this occasion a very unfavora-
ble opinion of the nonconformists. He com-
plained of the behavior being rude and crafty;
and it required all Leighton’s fine temper
and management to prevent him from hand-
ling them roughly.
About this time, the archbishop conceived
a plan for purging his diocess of scandalous
ministers. For this purpose he appointed a
board of examiners, who were empowered
to summon before them any officiating minis-
ter against whom his parishioners had char-
es to prefer. The king's council however
interposed, and added to this consistory cer-
tain lay commissioners:– a suspicious inter-
ference, that seemed intended to perplex the
business, and prevent its being done effectu-
ally. Such at least was the result ; for the
prosecution of clerical delinquencies was
hampered with so many difficulties, and the
accuser fell under such heavy penalties if he
failed to substantiate his deposition, that few
parishes ventured to impeach their minister,
except for immoralities too notorious to be
denied, and too gross to be palliated.
I can not ascertain whether it were before,
or shortly after, the initial convocation, that
Leighton fell upon another expedient to fur-
ther the great end for which alone he seemed
to live. He sent on a tour to the western
counties Burnet and five other episcopal
clergymen, among whom were Nairn and
Charteris, divines in the highest esteem for
erudition and piety. The object of this mis-
sion is variously reported. In a paper of
the Lansdown manuscripts, which is copied
with some additions into Wodrow’s disingen-
uous history, it is pretended that Leighton
anticipated nothing short of a national con-
version from the eloquence of these mission-
aries. From Burnet, however, who could
not be misinformed of the archbishop's mo-
tives, we learn that the directions given to
himself and his associates were—“to argue
upon the grounds of the accommodation.”
In his account of this transaction there is
a palpable fairness which carries conviction.
He frankly admits that the people did not
flock to them in crowds, although a congre-
gation respectably numerous was seldom
wanting ; and he pays a high tribute to the
religious information and argumentative skill
of the common people, and to their readiness
on scriptural topics, though he found these
excellences marred with a bitter leaven of
self-conceit, and “a most entangled scrupu-
losity.” This pious attempt was productive
of no lasting benefit: for no sooner had the
episcopal detachment quitted the field, than
it was reoccupied by the conventicles, which
had been at a stand during their stay ; and
hot brained preachers cast again the touch of
bigotry upon materials which were lamenta-
bly prone to inflame. In truth, the meas-
ures now in train for winning over the anti-
episcopal party to moderate sentiments, fail-
ing of that happy issue, did but widen the
breach ; as is commonly the result of abor-
tive efforts at reconciliation. The fire, not
being stifled, was stirred. Met together to
canvass the proffered indulgence, the cov-
enanters had their spirits inflamed by debate
and altercation; and as they went on argu-
ing, the points which severed them from the
pale of episcopacy seemed to multiply, and
to grow in importance. Regarding the over-
tures of the royal commissioners for a com-
promise, as a stratagem for enticing the gar-
THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
29
rison of presbytery into a capitulation of its
principal bulwarks,they animated each other
to persist in a resistance, of which they ar-
gued a speedy and glorious termination,
against that twofold mystery of iniquity, pre-
latic dominion and servile Erastianism.
“They helped every one his neighbor, and ev-
ery one said to his brother, be of good cour-
age.” In vain did Leighton endeavor by pa-
pers of logical argument, or of pathetic re-
monstrance, to persuade them that by alter-
ing their discipline in some few particulars,
which nowise affected its essence, they would
only be conforming to a principle on which
they had acted during Cromwell's usurpation,
and even subsequently to the restoration.
None of these considerations had any weight
with men, the excesses of whose zeal were
prescribed or ratified by a stern and moody
conscience. If he attempted by letters to
impress some of the more dispassionate min-
isters with opinions favorable to his propo-
sal, the attempt was reprobated as unfair;
and not a little offence was taken at his ven-
turing, in epistolary correspondence with his
private friends, to reflect upon the spirit
which had it shown itself in the presbyterian
party ; and to prognosticate the failure of the
negotiation.*
But Leighton, though wearied and broken-
hearted, resolved to make another attempt to
burst the strongholds of presbyterian preju-
dice, or the still less penetrable barriers of
party spirit:—
“ter saxea tentat
Limina nequicquam ; ter fessus valle resedit.”
After some vexatious opposition, another con-
ference took place at Paisley, on the 14th of
December, 1670, in which the archbishop,
assisted by two clergymen, entered the lists
with about twenty-six of the nonconformists.
It was opened in a manner illustrative of the
gandor, and piety of Leighton, by a prayer
from the oldest minister in the town. The
archbishop then made an able and eloquent
speech, in which he went over the old
ground ; but aimed especially at making his
Opponent sensible, how unreasonable and
blameable it was to abate nothing on their
side, but to exact unbounded concession from
The other. He further urged them to reflect,
whether they would have refused commu-
nion with the church at the period of the
Nicene council ; and yet episcopacy was then
of a lordlier character than it now affected
in Scotland.t On the other side it was con-
tended, that archbishops were unknown to
the primitive church ; that bishops were pa-
rochial, and not diocesan ; that two might
act together in one church ; and that they
were elected by their presbyters, to whom
they were accountable for the discharge of
their functions. To these objections Profes-
sor Burnet, at the request of Leighton, who
was fatigued with speaking, replied at con-
siderable length ; either controverting the
facts asserted, or impeaching the conclusion
drawn from them.* In the course of the de-
bate, which was very wearing to mind and
body, the archbishop's nose began to bleed;
and this incident was matter of some exulta-
tion to his adversaries, who attributed it to
the hard knocks he had received in the theo-
logical combat. Whether these opima spolia
were the best grounds they had for chanting
a paean, it is not our present business to in-
quire. Nothing, however, was effected tow-
ard the establishment of peace. Both par-
ties claimed the victory in argument; and
not a step was taken by the presbyterians to
meet the episcopalians, who carried home
nothing but humiliation, after going more
than half way to embrace their froward and
ungracious brethren.
At the close of this conference which
Leighton had industriously brought about,
in hopes of giving such a turn to the temper
of the nonconformists as might have a kindly
influence on their final decision, he gave them
in writing the propositions which had before
been only verbally communicated. It was
not without reluctance that he committed
them to paper; and it is easy to conjecture
the bad consequences he might apprehend
* See Letters in the Appendix.
f The following citation from a work entitled,
“The Present State of Scotland,” by Matthias Sym.
son, Canon of Lincoln, shows that episcopacy in that
country was already in point of fact, in consequence
no doubt of Leighton’s exertions, reduced almost as
low as the nature of an episcopol church could admit.
“After the king's restoration, when bishops were
re-established, none were admitted into the ministry
but by episcopal ordination: though every bishop did
not use the same form, yet none of them (except
Bishop Mitchel) imposed what was called reordina-
tion on such as had been ordained otherwise, though
they did not refuse it to such as desired it. The
enjoined no form of public prayer, except the Lord's
prayer; but left every minister to his own liberty,
both in common, as well as occasional worship, and
administration of the sacraments; they enjoined no
habits (that was left to the king’s disposal), though
they generally wore black gowns and bands; they
had no god-fathers and god-mothers, nor the cross in
baptism; they required no ring in marriage, nor gen-
ufluxion in the eucharist, unless the communicant
pleased. They did not demand subscription to the
old and first confession of the reformers, but conniv-
ed at the Westminister confessions and catechisms;
they enjoined no holydays, and observed but few.
For the exercise of discipline they had synods, and
also presbyteries, where candidates for orders and
institution were examined; who also had cognizance
of all ecclesiastical cases, under the inspection and re-
view of the diocesan. There were very few sine-
cures; they knew nothing of pluralities, and very lit-
tle of non-residence. No lay-elders were admitted,
but in every parish the minister chose several of the
most noted inhabitants, like a select vestry, to assist
him in parochial discipline, which in effect, were as
ruling elders, though not admitted as, or allowed to
be, gospel officers. So indulgent were the governors
and other great men, that in many parishes presbyte-
rian ministers (if they would but pray for the king,
which divers of them would not do) were allowed to
officiate in the churches, and receive the whole
profits, without being any ways accountable to the
bishop, or ecclesiastical establishment, on any score
whatsoever.”
* See Burmet's Windication, &c. Fourth Conference.
30
THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
from such an instrument being divulged.
Among others, it would tend to circumscribe
the concessions he could make to the cove-
manters, and would straiten him in the exer-
cise of that discretionary power with which
he was apparently intrusted. To proclaim
the meditated extent of the royal liberality,
was in fact to lay a restraint upon it; since it
could not well overpass the limit it had pub-
licly prescribed to itself, without incurring
the disgrace of having been forced beyond
its spontaneous issue. However, it was im-
possible for Leighton to refuse the demand,
without falling under the suspicion which
would have been fatal to his further proceed-
ings, that he was designedly leaving open a
way of retreat from the performance of ex-
torted promises. On taking leave of the
ministers, he requested them to lose no time
in preparing a final answer, as one would in
all probability be called for by the end of
January.
The meeting took place accordingly at the
house of Lord Rothes, where this tedious
treaty was concluded by Hutchinson, in the
name of the whole fraternity, returning this
“short and dry answer,” as Leighton desig-
nates it; “We are not free in conscience to
close with the propositions, made by the
bishop of Dunblane, as satisfactory.” Leigh-
ton begged for an explicit statement of their
reasons for persisting in a course so contrary
to the peace and welfare of the church ; but
the presbyterian representatives excused
themselves from all argument on the subject.
Being requested to submit propositions, on
their part, which might furnish a hopeful
basis for a fresh negotiation, they declined
the invitation on the plea that their senti-
ments were already before the world; there-
by signifying that nothing would satisfy
them, short of the utter extinction of episco-
pacy. The archbishop perceiving that no
terms would be accepted by this untractable
race, delivered himself, before the assembly
broke up, at considerable length and with
energetic solemnity. He unfolded the mo-
tives by which he had been actuated in set-
ting afloat this negotiation, and in still ur-
ging it forward, when wave upon wave was
driving it back. “My sole object has been
to procure peace, and to advance the interests
of true religion. In following up this object
I have made several proposals which I am
fully sensible involved great diminutions of
the just rights of episcopacy. Yet, since all
church power is intended for edification, and
not for destruction, I thought that, in our
present circumstances, episcopacy might do
more for the prosperity of Christ's kingdom
by relaxing some of its just pretensions, than
it could by keeping hold of all its rightful
authority. It is not from any mistrust of the
soundness of our cause, that I have offered
these abatements; for I am well convinced
that episcopacy has subsisted from the apos-
tolic age of the church. Perhaps I may have
wronged my own order in making such large
concessions; but the unerring Discerner of
hearts will justify my motives; and I hope
ere long to stand excused with my own
brethren. You have thought fit to reject our
overtures, without assigning any reason for
the rejection, and without suggesting any
healing measures in the room of ours. The
continuance of the divisions, through which
religion languishes, must consequently lie at
your door. Before God and man I wash my
hands of whatever evils may result from the
rupture of this treaty. I have done my ut-
most to repair the temple of the Lord ; and
my sorrow will not be embittered by com-
punction, should a flood of miseries hereafter
rush in through the gap you have refused to
assist me in closing.”
Thus did the bark unhappily founder,
which was freighted with the treasures of
religious peace and concord. It was not as-
suredly owing to unskilful pilotage, for noth-
ing could surpass the prudence, the knowl-
edge, and the fortitude, displayed by the
apostolic man who was seated at the helm.
But the vessel was not equally happy in all
who had a 'share in its management; and it
had to contend with such a current of na-
tional feelings, of selfish passions and re-
ligious enthusiasm, as was only to be counter-
acted by perfect harmony in counsel and ac-
tion, Nothing can be conceived more frank
and magnanimous than the conduct of Leigh-
ton was throughout his transactions with the
dissentient clergy; in his own account of the
accommodation, the extent of his offers is
thus stated:—
“It was declared to them, that the differ-
ence between us should be freely referred to
the Scriptures first of all, and next to the
judgment and practice of the primitive
church ; and to the whole catholic Christian
church in succeeding ages; and to the most
famous and most leading persons of the late
Reformation, as Calvin, Luther, Melancthon;
yea, and to the reformed churches abroad,
even to those that at present have no bish-
ops; and last of all to the presbyterians of Eng-
land; and that, if from all these, or any of
these, they could justify their continuing
divided, even after these offers made, then it
should be yielded to them as a thing reason-
able. Yea, the person that propounded this
further offered them, that if, before the noble
and judicious persons then present, or that
should be present at the time of such a con-
ference, they should produce strong and clear
reasons for their opinion and practice in this
point of difference, as now it stands qualified?
he would forthwith resign his present station
and become their proselyte, and would unite
and act with them, and if he were called to
it, would suffer with them.”
It sometimes happens that measures, which
owed their birth to a dangerous crisis, and at
the moment were highly beneficial, are con-
* Wodrow MSS., vol.xxxiv., 4to, Art. 15.
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
31
verted into sources of enormous evil by the
folly which bids them to expire with the
crisis; as though what had proved useful as
a temporary expedient, must needs be salu-
tary as a permanent institution. It is strange-
ly forgotten that the drug, which is an in-
valuable specific for particular diseases,
would make a very bad article of diet; and
that nothing can be worse suited for domes-
tic dress than the coat of mail, although it
is of excellent service in the field of battle.
That notable compact, the League and Cove-
nant, affords a specimen of this mischievous
error. Notwithstanding it contained some
very objectionable clauses, it was at its rise of
real utility, in shielding the protestant con-
federacy from the revenge of the discomfited
papists. But the terrible objurations, within
which it was intrenched for the purpose of
securing its immortality, and which went to
bind it on future generations, changed it into
a snare and a pest, into a nurse of strife and
sedition; and into a barrier against peace,
the moment it ceased to be a bond of con-
cord. It was on this, indeed, that the treaty
with Leighton mainly hitched. After he had
proved that no rule of Scripture forbids the
appointment of a bishop to be the constant
president in synods; that the fixed presidency
of the bishops in Synods has as good warrant
as the fixed moderation of a presbyter in
kirk sessions, and of ruling elders; that the
New Testament nowhere enjoins, directly or
by implication, a parity of presbyters, but
seems favorable to a regular subordination of
ecclesiastical offices; that neither the name
of bishop, as conferred on the superior pres-
byter, nor yet the manner of consecrating
him to his office, can be offensive to sober.
minded Christians; and that while the de-
gree of authority vested in the bishops va-
ried with varying circumstances, yet some
such special and pre-eminent power as was
now claimed, erors quadam atque eminens
potestas, appeared from the annals of the
primitive church, and the canons of the most
ancient councils, to have always lodged with
certain individuals:–when Leighton had
proved all this by reasonings with which it
was inconvenient to grapple, the presbyte-
rians took shelter under the solemn oath,
which forbade, to use their own expression,
“a hoof, or so much as a hair of the Scottish
model to be altered.” It was vain to allege
the illegality of their covenant, and the duty
of renouncing an engagement, which must
be criminal, if it precluded such alterations
as the Oracles of God demanded. It was
vain to insist that a door for modification and
amendment had been intentionally left open
by the very framers of the covenant. Noth-
ing was to be done with these stiffnecked
disputants. The covenant, the covenant, was
the watchward, by which party spirit, should
it have slackened for a moment, was instant-
ly strung to its original rigor; and the flames
of fanaticism which had been slaked by the
pathetic eloquence of Leighton, dropping on
them “as the gentle rain from heaven,”
quickly broke out anew, and raged with re-
doubled and desperate violence.
We have had occasion to expose the punc-
tilious cavillings of the nonconformists.
Leighton has left his opinion on record that the
failure of the negotiation was mainly owing
to the “interest and affectation of continuing
a divided party;” yet he candidly allowed
that “they had more honest hearts among
them, than strong heads.” But, as it would
be a great mistake to deny, on the one hand,
that a large share of conscientious, disinter-
ested, and high-minded feeling was inter-
mingled with sentiments of a baser leaven,
so, on the other hand, it ought not to be dis-
sembled, that the character of most of the
episcopalian leaders was far from claiming
the esteem and confidence of their opponents.
The most ardent promoters of the accomoda-
tion, and among them the king, were men
whom it were dotage to imagine under the
influence of religious principle ; and the
whole project was undisguisedly detested by
the bench of bishops, and by the mass of the
episcopalian clergy. Under these circum-
stances the jealousy of the covenanters ad-
mits of some palliation. They might appre-
hend that, however sincere Leighton him-
self was, they still had no guarantee for
those stipulations being fulfilled, the execu-
tion of which depended on others more than
on himself. They might fear that episco-
pacy, like the Vishnu of Hindostan, if, by
creeping in under a pigmy form, it should
wheedle them out of just room enough to
stand upon, would straightway dilate into a
giant bulk, touch the heavens with its head
and “bestride the narrow world,” and tread
to the dust that venerable structure within
the pale of which it had been rashly admit-
ted. Possessed with these terrors, which
they would naturally scruple to acknowledge,
and driven back from one possession to an-
other by the persevering condescension of
Leighton, they were compelled to make a
last stand behind pitiful subterfuges. In the
meantime their jealousies and resentments
were kept alive by the violences which were
proceeding all round the narrow circle, in
which the treaty was under discussion. A
wise and honest policy would have suspend-
ed all severities. It would have hushed the
storm of persecution which was so unpro-
pitious to calm deliberation and amicable
convention. But, instead of this being done,
there came forth in the very crisis of the ne-
gotiation, an atrocious bill against conven-
ticles, contrived to pass harmlessly over the
heads of Roman catholics, but to alight with
deadly force on protestant nonconformists.
This edict was hurried through parliament
with such indecent haste, that Leighton was
not apprized of it, till the time to oppose it
was past. But, true to his manly indepen-
dence, he expostulated severely upon it with
32
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
Lord Tweedale, and declared that the whole
complexion of it was so contrary to the com-
mon rules of humanity, not to say Christian-
ity, that he was ashamed to mix in council
with the contrivers and abettors of such acts.
It would be more curious than useful, to
speculate on the probable duration and utility
of an ecclesiastical constitution, adjusted to
the ideas of the Archbishop of Glasgow.
No doubt, in a church, connected, as ours is,
with the civil government, there would be a
tendency in the episcopal part of such a con-
stitution to supplant the presbyterian. Yet
might not means be devised for checking en-
croachments, and for constantly restoring the
system, before it had been seriously injured ?
It may perhaps be permitted to those who
think, with Leighton, that neither one nor
another outward frame of the church is ab-
solutely essential to its integrity and useful-
ness, to lament that the experiment was not
made, of so blending the presbyterian with
the episcopal economy as to produce some-
thing nearer, than subsists in the British isl-
ands, to the primeval pattern. To suppose
this impossible is to make a supposition,
which both reason and experience disclaim.
There is nothing in simple episcopacy that
tends to despotism, beyond what obtains in
every other form of government, not except-
ing forms of the most democratical aspect ;
nothing beyond what results from that ambi-
tious propensity of our nature, which consti-
tutional barriers may keep down, but which
is always laboring upward. The spirit of
domination may be more concentrated and
apparent in the Anglican church, than in the
Scottish, without being more abundant and
hurtful. The fact is, that in every kind of
regimen there are certain connatural impuri-
ties, from which it can never be thoroughly
defecated. You may scum for ever, but
fresh scum will still be rising, till the liquor
is wholly exhausted. Some risk must be
run notwithstanding all our safeguards; some
feculence remain after all our refining. But
it is the triumph of political wisdom, to pro-
duce with the smallest risk of the least con-
siderable evils the largest sum of public ben-
efit. That this praise belongs to episcopacy
has often been shown with great cogency of
argument; and could that form of polity be
in some degree restored to its ancient sim-
plicity, the church might be expected, under
its shelter and superintendence, to attain the
highest perfection of which an earthly church
is capable.
Some observations of Leighton on the
faulty state of the Anglican church, though
peculiarly applicable to his own times, are
such as may even now be pondered with ad-
vantage. Bishop Burnet has told us, that he
looked on the state of the English church
with very melancholy reflections; for, while
he fully admitted that, in respect to doctrine
and worship, and the main part of govern-
ment, it was the best constituted church in
the world; yet, in point of actual adminis-
tration, it was one of the most defective. In
discipline, which he held to be a matter of
prime importance, it was, he affirmed, infe.
rior to the corrupt church of Rome itself
He also deplored the hasty and incautious or-
dination of ministers, whose qualifications
for the Office had not been ascertained; and
he regarded as a portentous evil the insuf-
ficiency of many livings for the maintenance
of their incumbents, whereby it appears that
some of the clergy in the north of England,
were driven to keep alehouses, the very men
“who should have strenuously endeavored
to keep themselves and others out of them.”
Nor did the conduct of the spiritual courts in
those times escape his severe animadversion.
Leighton's advancement to Glasgow seems
not to have dissolved his connexion with his
former diocess; and his constant attachment
to its clergy is strikingly manifested, in the
following pastoral letter to the synod of Dun-
blane:—
“GLASGow, April 6, 1671.
“REVEREND BRETHREN: The superadded
burden that I have here sits so heavy upon
me, that I can not escape from under it, to be
with you at this time, but my heart and de-
sires shall be with you, for a blessing from
above upon your meeting. I have nothing
to recommend to you, but (if you please) to
take a review of things formerly agreed upon,
and such as you judge most useful, to renew
the appointment of putting them in practice;
and to add whatsoever further shall occur to
your thoughts, that may promote the happy
discharge of your ministry, and the good of
your people's souls. I know I need not re-
mind you, for I am confident you daily think
of it, that the great principle of fidelity, and
diligence, and good success, in that great
work, is love ; and the great spring of love
to souls, is love to him that bought them.
He knew it well himself; and gave us to
know it, when he said, “Simon, lovest thou
me? Feed my sheep, feed my lambs.” Deep
impressions of his blessed name upon our
hearts will not fail to produce lively expres-
sions of it, not only in our words and dis-
courses, in private and public, but will make
the whole track of our lives to be a true
copy and transcript of his holy life. And if
there be within us any sparks of that divine
love, you know the best way, not only to pre-
serve them, but to excite them, and blow
them up into a flame, is by the breath of
prayer. Oh prayer the converse of the soul
with God, the breath of God in man return-
ing to its original, frequent, and fervent pray-
er, the better half of our whole work, and
that which makes the other half lively and
effectual: as that holy company tells us,
when appointing deacons to serve the tables,
they add, “But we will give ourselves con-
tinually to prayer, and the ministry of the
word.” And is it not, brethren, our unspeak-
able advantage, beyond all the gainful and
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
33
honorable employments of the world, that
the whole work of our particular calling is a
kind of living in heaven, and besides its ten-
dency to the saving of the souls of others, is
all along so proper and adapted to the puri-
fying and saving of our own 2 But you will
possibly say, what does he himself that
speaks these things unto us? Alas! I am
ashamed to tell you. All I dare say is this:
I think I see the beauty of holiness, and am
enamored with it though I attain it not ; and
how little soever I attain, would rather live
and die in the pursuit of it, than in the pur-
suit, yea, or in the possession and enjoyment,
though umpursued, of all the advantages that
this world affords. And I trust, dear breth-
ren, you are of the same opinion, and have
the same desire and design, and follow it
both more diligently, and with better suc-
cess. But I will stop here, lest I should for-
get myself, and possibly run on till I have
wearied you, if I have not done that already :
and yet if it be so, I will hope for easy par-
don at your hands, as of a fault I have not
been accustomed to heretofore, nor am likely
hereafter often to commit. To the all-pow-
erful grace of our great Lord and Master, I
recommend you, and your flocks, and your
whole work among them; and do earnestly
entreat your prayers for
“Your unworthiest, but most affectionate,
“Brother and Servant,
“R. LEIGHTON.”
Some time after the negotiation with the
nonconformists had gone off, Leighton was
required by a royal mandate to assist the
Lords of the Council in nominating proper
men to four vacant sees. Nairn, Charteris,
and Burnet, were the persons he fixed upon
to fill three of them; and he was seriously
distressed to find these clergymen resolute in
rejecting the appointment. At first he was
disposed not to recommend any others, since
those whom he considered most eligible re-
fused to bring their shoulder under the bur-
den. But, on mature consideration, he thought
it his duty rather to present the best qualified
ersons who could be induced to undertake
it, than to leave the appointment in hands,
not apt to administer power to the advantage
of true religion.
Another feeble attempt was made by the
Duke of Lauderdale, in the year 1672, to re-
duce the turbulence of the covenanters, by
executing the measure that Burnet had long
before suggested, of placing the discarded
ministers in parishes by couples. The Arch-
bishop of Glasgow had already expressed
his approbation of this scheme, aptly com-
paring it to “gathering into the chimney,
where they might burn safely, the coals that
were scattered over the house and setting it
all on fire.” The time, however, for repres-
sing the spirit of recusancy was gone by.
Dissent was now exasperated into faction;
and had the times been more favorable, it
would still have required a hand less way-
ward and inconstant than Lauderdale's, to
impress a new form on the stubborn soul of
presbyterianism.
Leighton now considered his work over;
and began to think of withdrawing from a
post, which it seemed impossible to retain
with advantage to the church. While he
had made no way with the nonconformists
}. his earnest, his affectionate, and it might
almost be said, his humiliating advances, we
have seen that his colleagues were ready to
brand him with treachery to their cause,
and more than insinuated that he plotted the
overthrow of the constitution. The indulged
ministers, also, and some others, among
whom was Robert Law, from whose memo-
rials I have collected the fact, occasioned him
much uneasiness by their disorderly and se-
ditious proceedings; and, indeed, by actual
immoralities, which went to such a length,
that he was obliged, in December, 1673, to
send a deputation, with a formal complaint
against them to the Privy Council. All
these crosses and disappointments were re-
garded by Leighton, as so many providential
intimations to relinquish an employment,
wherein he was doing no service to the
church, while sacrificing all his personal
comfort. Anguish was drinking up his spirit,
without benefit to the cause of religion. Ac-
cordingly, he rigorously canvassed the legal-
ity of abdicating his office: he found out
several instances of bishops who had taken
that step and gone into retirement; and at
length he fully satisfied himself that the law
of God did not require him to retain his bish-
opric, when the business of it was but to
consume its revenues in stately indolence.
On scrutinizing his own heart, he could not
perceive that he was prompted to this meas-
ure by successive disgusts, by impatience of
the cross, by wounded pride, by secret indig-
nation at Providence, or by his natural pro-
pensity to a quiet, studious, and contempla-
tive privacy. Was it not a duty, rather than
a fault, to renounce a position of anxious dig-
nity, and barren of usefulness, for one more
favorable to prayer and meditation, to com-
munion with God, and to preparation for
eternity ? He was now growing old and in-
firm; he had need to respire from over-
whelming fatigues; and well could he adopt
for his motto the sentence of Buchanan,
“Senectute fractus, portum exoplans.” The
dressing and undressing of his soul, as he
used to call devotional exercises, was the
business to which his few remaining days
ought to be consecrated ; and he “longed to
escape, if only into the air among the birds,”
from the ungrateful service which he had
not declined, when summoned to it by the
exigencies of the church; but from which
he held himself discharged, now that it was
become evident that no good could ensue
from his remaining in it.
We can hardly doubt that Leighton had
34
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
been long looking out for the moment, when
he might indulge, without violence to his
conscience, his disposition to seclusion from
the world. The following letter to his sis-
ter, Mrs. Lightmaker, apparently in the lat-
ter, part of his episcopacy, lets us into his
feelings on this subject:---
“DEAR SISTER : I was strangely surprised
to see the bearer here. What could occasion
it I do not yet understand. At parting he
earnestly desired a line to you, which with-
out his desire my own affection would have
carried me to, if I knew what to say but
what I trust you do : and ’tis that our joint
business is to die daily to this world and self,
that what little remains of our life we may
live to Him that died for us. For myself, to
what purpose is it to tell you, what the
bearer can, that I grow old and sickly; and
though I have here great retirement, as great
and possibly greater than I could readily find
anywhere else, yet I am still panting after a
retreat from this place and all public charge,
and next to rest in the grave. It is the pres-
singest desire I have of anything in this
world; and, if it might be, with you, or
near you. . But our heavenly Father, we
quietly resigning all to him, both knows and
will do what is best. Remember my kind-
est affection to your son and daughter, and to
Mr. Siderfin, and pray for
“Your poor weary brother,
“ R. L.”
“Dunblane, April 19th.”
This letter is dated from Dunblane, where
he seems to have mostly resided, after the
treaty of accommodation came to nothing.
In this retreat, to which he was very partial,
there is said to be still in existence a shady
avenue called “The Bishop's Walk:” a name
which it took from the practice of the vener-
able Leighton to pace up and down it, when
he wished to join bodily exercise with spir-
itual meditation. It was probably from
there that he issued the following apostolic
charge to the Synod of Glasgow, which he
met for the last time on the eighth day of the
following December.
Letter to the Synod of Glasgow, convened
April, 1673.
“REVEREND BRETHREN: It is neither a
matter of much importance, nor can I yet
give you a particular and satisfactory ac-
count of the reasons of my absence from
your meeting, which I trust, with the help
of a little time, will clear itself: but I can
assure you, I am present with you in my
most affectionate wishes of the gracious
presence of that Holy Spirit among you, and
within you all, who alone can make this and
all your meetings, and the whole work of
your ministry, happy and successful, to the
good of the souls, and His glory that bought
them with his own blood. And I doubt not,
that your own great desire each for yourself,
and all for one another, is the same ; and
that your daily and great employment is, by
incessant and fervent prayer, to draw down
from above large supplies and increases of
that blessed Spirit, which our Lord and Mas-
ter hath assured us that our heavenly Father
will not fail to give to them that ask it. And
how extreme a negligence and folly were it
to want so rich a gift for want of asking,
especially in those devoted to so high and
holy a service, that requires so great degrees
of that spirit of holiness and Divine love to
purify their minds, and to raise them above
their senses and this present world ! Oh!
my dear brethren, what are we doing, that
suffer our souls to creep and grovel on this
earth, and do so little aspire to the heavenly
life of Christians, and more eminently of the
messengers and ministers of God, as stars,
yea, as angels, which he hath made spirits,
and his ministers a flame of fire | Oh '
where are souls to be found among us, that
represent their own original, that are pos-
sessed with pure and sublime apprehensions
of God, the Father of spirits, and are often
raised to the astonishing contemplation of
his eternal and blessed being, and his infinite
holiness, and greatness, and goodness; and
are accordingly burnt up with ardent love '
and where that holy fire is wanting, there
can be no sacrifice, whatsoever our invention,
or utterance, or gifts may be, and how blame-
less soever the externals of our life may be,
and even our hearts free from gross pollutions;
| for it is scarce to be suspected, that any of us
will suffer any of those strange, yea, infernal
fires of ambition, or avarice, or malice, or
impure lusts and sensualities, to burn within
us, which would render us priests of idols,
of airy nothings, and of dunghill dogs, yea,
of the very god of this world, the prince of
darkness. Let men judge us and revile us as
they please, that imports nothing at all ; but
God forbid anything should possess our hearts
but He that loved us, and gave himself for
us; for we know we can not be vessels of
honor meet for the master's use, unless we
purge ourselves from all filthiness of flesh
and spirit, and empty our hearts of all things
beside him, and even of ourselves and our
own will, and have no more any desires nor
delights, but his will alone, and his glory,
who is our peace, and our life, and our all.
And, truly, I think it were our best and wi-
sest reflection upon the many difficulties and
discouragements without us, to be driven by
them to live more within ; as they observe
of the bees, that when it is foul weather
abroad, they are busy in their hives. If the
power of external discipline be enervated in
our hands, yet who can hinder us to try, and
judge, and censure ourselves; and to purge
the inner temples, our own hearts, with the
more severity and exactness? And if we be
dashed and bespattered with reproaches
abroad, to study to be the cleaner at home ;
and the less we find of meekness and charity
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
35
in the world about us, to preserve so much
the more of that sweet temper within our
own hearts; blessing them that curse us, and
praying for them that persecute us: so shall
we most effectually prove ourselves to be the
children of our heavenly Father, even to their
conviction that will scarce allow us, in any
sense, to be called his servants.
“As for the confusions and contentions
that still abound and increase in this church,
and threaten to undo it, I think our wisdom
shall be, to cease from man, and look for no
help till we look more upward, and dispute
and discourse less, and fast and pray more ;
and so draw down our relief from the God
of order and peace, who made the heavens
and earth.
“Concerning myself, I have nothing to
say, but humbly to entreat you to pass by
the many failings and weaknesses you may
have perceived in me during my abode
among you ; and if in anything I have in-
jured or offended you, or any of you, in the
management of my public charge, or in pri-
vate converse, I do sincerely beg your par-
don: though, I confess, I can not make any
requital in that kind; for I do not know of
anything toward me, from any of you, that
needs a pardon in the least ; having generally
paid me more kindness and respect, than a
much better or wiser man could either have
expected or deserved. Nor am I only a suiter
for your pardon, but for the addition of a fur-
ther charity, and that so great a one, that I
have nothing to plead for it, but that I need
it much—your prayers. And I am hopeful
as to that, to make you some little, though
very disproportioned return ; for whatsoever
becomes of me (through the help of God),
while I live, you shall be no one day of my
life forgotten by
“Your most unworthy, but most affectionate
“Brother and Servant,
“R. LEIGHTON.”
“P. S. I do not see whom it can offend, or
how any shall disapprove of it, if you will
appoint a fast throughout your bounds, to en-
treat a blessing on the seed committed to the
ground, and for the other grave causes that
are still the same as they were the last year,
and the urgency of them no whit abated, but
rather increased : but in this I prescribe
nothing but leave it to your discretion, and
the direction of God.”
The account is brief, which Burnet has
given, of the last steps of this holy man’s
episcopal career. He repaired to court, and
there tendered to Lauderdale the resignation
of his dignities. At first the duke resolutely
opposed this motion, but was at last prevail-
ed upon to obtain the king's consent in wri-
ting for the archbishop's retirement at the
expiration of a year, if his own mind should
not have undergone a change within that pe-
riod, as Lauderdale expected would be the
case. The following is a copy of the royal
engagement:—
“CHARLEs R.
“It is our will and pleasure, that the
present archbishop of Glasgow do continue in
that station for one whole year; and we
shall allow liberty to him to retire from
thence at the end of that time.
“Given at our court, at Whitehall, the ninth
of August, 1673; and of our reign, the twen-
ty-fifth year. By his majesty’s command.”
Having gained this point, Leighton went
back delighted, and observed to Burnet, that
“ there was now but one uneasy stage be-
tween him and rest, and he would wrestle
through it the best he could.” . Accordingly,
no sooner was the year completed, than he
hastened up to London, and laid down his
archbishopric, which was restored to its for-
mer possessor, Dr. Alexander Burnet. After
his resignation, he resided for a short time in
the college of Edinburgh, whence he retired
to Broadhurst, a demesne in the parish of
Horsted Keynes, Sussex, belonging to his sis-
ter, the widow of Edward Lightmaker, Esq.;
and with her he continued till his death.
The slightest notice is more, perhaps, than
ought to be bestowed on the account which
Robert Law has penned of the transaction
just narrated: since to those who have the
least acquaintance with Leighton's charac-
ter, it must appear on the face of it to be an
absurd slander. It is pretended, that the
archbishop never meant to descend from his
station; but Lauderdale, whom he had offend-
ed, persuaded the king to take in good earn-
est his hypocritical resignation, notwithstand-
ing the utmost efforts of Sir Ellis and other
court friends to avert that catastrophe. Thus
was the poor archbishop, as this shameless
story-teller would have it believed, over-
reached in his own craftiness.
Dismissing this contemptible fabrication,
and along with it another idle tale, that his ob-
ject was to exchange his Scotch bishopric
or one in England, we may advert to an ac-
count which, if not quite correct, yet is prob-
ably not quite devoid of truth.
The account is that Leighton, finding his
authority in the diocesan synod of Glasgow
but weak, while he administered that see un-
der the title of commendator, procured him-
self to be elected archbishop on the 27th of
October, 1671 ; but the Duke of Lauderdale
did not ratify the election by the king's let-
ters patent, as is usually done in such cases.
Some have supposed that this disgusted
Leighton, and determined or hastened his
resignation. Lauderdale tried at first to di-
vert him from this step ; but when that crafty
minister was endangered by a vote of the
House of Commons, it occurred to him that
he might gain over the episcopal bench to
his side, and thus ward off an impeachment,
by making use of Leighton's resignation,
which was left in his hands, and tº few sta-
36
THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
ting Burnet,” whose deprivation had given
mortal offence to the English bishops.
It is very creditable that Lauderdale was
induced by these considerations to accept the
resignation, which he would otherwise have
steadily refused, although it could hardly be
disagreeable to him, as Leighton never stoop-
ed to solicit his favor, and seldom appeared
at his levees. But this admission will no-
wise impugn the archbishop's sincerity in
making the tender. The reasons for resigning,
which he himself assigned in a paper that has
appeared in Bower's History of the Universi-
ty of Edinburgh, will find ready credit with
fair and thinking, men; inasmuch as they
perfectly accord with the general tone of his
mind, of his life and conversation. They are
the following:—
“Whatsoever others may judge, they that
know what passed before my engaging in
this charge will not (I believe) impute my
retreat from it to levity or unfixedness of
mind, considering how often I declared be-
forehand, both by word and writing, the
great suspicions I had that my continuance
in it would be very short; neither is it from
any sudden passion or sullen discontent that
I have now resigned it; nor do I know any
cause imaginable for any such thing ; but
the true reasons of my retiring are plainly
and briefly these:
“1. The sense I have of the dreadful
weight of whatsoever charge of souls, and
all kind of spiritual inspection over people, but
much more over ministers, and withal of my
own extreme unworthiness and unfitness for
so high a station in the church ; and there is
an episcopal act that is above all others formi-
dable to me—the ordaining of ministers.
“2. The continuing and daily increasing
divisions and contentions, and many other
disorders of this church, and the little or no
appearance of their cure for our time ; and
as little hope amidst those contentions and
disorders, of doing anything in this station
to promote the great design of religion in the
hearts and lives of men, which were the only
reason of continuing in it, though it were
with much pains and reluctance.
“3. The earnest desire I have long had of
a retired and private life, which is now
much increased by sickliness and old age
drawing on, and the sufficient experience I
have of the folly and vanity of the world.
“To add any further discourse, a large
apology in this matter were to no purpose ;
but instead of removing other mistakes and
misconstructions, would be apt to expose me
to one more ; for it would look like too much
valuing either of myself or the world's opin-
ion, both which I think I have so much rea-
son to despise.”
Of the habits and employments of this
* This bishop was translated to St. Andrew's af.
ter the assassination of Archbishop Sharp, which took
place on the third day of May, A. D. 1679, on Magus
Moor. He died on the 24th of August, 1684.
man of God, during the sequel of his life, there
remain but few particulars. Some interest-
ing notices, however, of his general conver-
sation, which are mostly gleaned from his
nephew's letter to the bishop of Salisbury,
the pen of biography will not be employed
amiss in recording.
We have seen that it was his purpose, in
divorcing himself from the world, to give up
the remnant of his days to secret and tran-
quil devotion. Having spent his prime in
the active duties of his profession, and in the
service of his fellow-creatures, he saw no im-
propriety, but rather a suitableness, in conse-
crating his declining years more immediately
to God ; and in making the last stage of
earthly existence a season of unintermitted
preparation for the scene, upon which he
was to enter at the end of his journey. Ac-
cordingly he lived in great seclusion : and
abstained, to the utmost, that charity and
courtesy would allow, from giving and re-
ceiving visits. Let it not be supposed, how-
ever, that he withdrew from ministerial em-
ployments. After disburdening himself of
the episcopal dignity, he again took to the
vocation of a parish minister, and was con-
stantly engaged at Horsted Keynes, or one of
the neighboring churches, in reading prayers
or in preaching. In the peasant's cottage,
likewise,
“his tongue dropt mamma:”
and long after his decease he was talked of
by the poor of his village with affectionate
reverence. With deep feeling would they
recall his divine counsels and consolations;
his tenderness in private converse ; and the
impressive sanctity which he carried into the
solemnities of public worship.
Leighton was not by nature morose and
ascetic : yet something of a cloisteral com-
plexion appears to have been wrought in him
by the character of the times, and by the
scarcity of men like-minded with himself. He
plunged into the solitudes of devotion, with
a view to escape from the polluting com-
merce of the world; to gain the highest
places of sacred contemplation, and to main-
tain perpetual intercourse with heaven.
That he was no friend to monastic seclu-
sion is certain. He reckoned the greater
number of the regular clergy in Roman Cath-
olic countries, to be little better than ignavi
fures, rapacious drones; at the same time
that he recognised among them a few speci-
mens of extraordinary growth in religion ;
and thought he had discovered in the piety
of some conventual recluses a peculiar and
celestial flavor, which could hardly be met
with elsewhere. Of their sublime devotion
he often spoke with an admiration approach-
ing to rapture ; and much he wished, that
the sons of a purer faith and discipline could
match them in that Seraphic strength and
swiftness of wing, by which they soared to
the topmost branches of divine contemplation,
and cropped the choicest clusters of heavenly
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
37
fruitage, “It is not,” he would say, “the
want of religious houses, but of spiritual
hearts, that glues the wing of our affections,
and hinders the more frequent practice of
this leading precept of the divine law,-fer-
vently to lift up our souls unto God, and to
have our conversation in heaven.” His opin-
ion was that a mixed life, or, as he beautiful-
ly termed it, an angelical life, was the most
excellent;-a life spent between ascending
to fetch blessings from above, and descend-
ing to scatter them among mortals. Would
Christians retreat occasionally from the dizzy
whirl and tumult of life, and give themselves
time to think, they might become enamored
of those beauties which lie above the natu-
ral ken on the summit of God's holy moun-
tain. Some of the prelates and fathers of
the first ages had, according to his motions,
hit the happy medium ; and, by mingling
pastoral ministrations with devotional retire-
ment, had earned a better meed than is due
to the votaries of a severe and unprofitable
solitude.
Of the devotion which mingled with his
own life, flowing easily from a wellspring of
divine love in his soul, it would be hard to
speak extravagantly. Prayer and praise were
his business and his pleasure. His manner
of praying was so earnest and importunate,
as proved that his soul mounted up to God in
the flame of his oral aspirations. Although
none was ever less tainted with a mechani-
cal spirit in religion, yet he denied that the
use of written forms put to flight the power
of devotion ; and he himself occasionally
used them, with an energy and feeling, by
which his hearers were powerfully excited.
To the Lord's prayer he was particularly
partial, and said of it, “Oh, the spirit of this
prayer would make rare Christians !” Con-
sidering prayer, fervent, frequent, interces-
sory prayer, to be a capital part of the cleri-
cal office, he would repeat with great appro-
bation that apophthegm of a pious bishop—
“Necesse est, non ut multim legamus, sed ut
multim oremus.” This he accounted the
vessel, with which alone living water can be
drawn from the well of Divine mysteries.
Without it, he thought, the application of
the greatest human powers to theology would
turn out a laborious vanity; and in support
of this opinion he adduced the confession of
Erasmus, that, when he began to approach
the verities of celestial wisdom, he thought
he understood them pretty well; but after
much study of commentators, he was in-
finitely more perplexed than before. With
what a holy emphasis would Leighton ex-
claim, in commenting upon those words of
David, “Thou, O God, has taught me”—
“Non homines, nec consuetudo, nec industria
mea, sed tu dacuisti.”
It is not, however, to be imagined that this
great prelate, who was himself one of the
most learned men of a very learned age, un-
dervalued human erudition. On the con-
trary, he greatly encouraged it in his clergy;
and has been heard to declare that there
could not be too much, if it were but sancti-
fied. But then he set far higher store by
real piety; and would remark, with a felici-
tous introduction of a passage from Seneca,
“Non opus est multis literis ad bonam mentem,
but to be established in grace and replenish-
ed with the spirit.” Pointing to his books
One day, he said to his nephew, “One de-
Vout thought is worth them all ;” meaning,
no doubt, that no accumulation of knowl-
edge is comparable in value with internal
holiness.
Of his delight in the inspired volume the
amplest proof is afforded by his writings,
which are a golden weft, thickly studded
with precious stones from that mine, in beau-
tiful arrangement. How would he lament
that most people, instead of feeding upon
scriptural truths, instead of ruminating on
them leisurely and prolonging the luxury as
skilful epicures would do, rather swallowed
them down whole like bitter pills, the taste
of which is industriously disguised His
French bible, now in the library of Dun-
blame, is marked in numerous places; and
the blank leaves of it are filled with extracts
made by his own pen from Jerome, Chrysos-
tom, Gregory Nazianzen, and several other
fathers. But the bible, which he had in
daily use, gave yet stronger testimony to his
intimate and delightful acquaintance with its
contents. With the book of Psalms he was
particularly conversant, and would some-
times style it by an elegant application of a
scriptural metaphor, “a bundle of myrrh,
that ought to lie day and night in the bo-
som.” “Scarce a line in that sacred psalter,”
writes his nephew, “that hath passed with-
out the stroke of his pencil.”
To him the sabbath was a festive day;
and he would repair to God's house with a
willing spirit when his body was infirm.
One rainy Sunday, when through indisposi-
tion he was hardly equal to going abroad, he
still persisted in attending church, and said,
in excuse for his apparent rashness, “Were
the weather fair I would stay at home, but
since it is foul I must go ; lest I be thought
to countenance, by my example, the irreli-
gious practice of letting trivial hinderances
keep us back from public worship.”
Averse as he was to parade of all kinds,
and especially to dizening out religion in
modish draperies, yet he was not for shroud-
ing her in a gloomy cowl, and exposing her
to needless scorn, as he thought the quakers
did, by dressing her with “a hood and
bells.” It way his wish to see public wor-
ship so ordered as to exclude superfluous or-
nament, while it preserved those sober de-
cencies, which at once protect the majesty
of religion, and help to keep awake a devout
spirit in the worshipper.
It may have appeared to some of my read-
* Song of Solomon, chap. i. v. 13.
38
THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
ers, that Leighton's latitudinarian views on
the subject of ecclesiastical polity border-
ed upon the romantic, and were unsuitable
to the present imperfect state of the Chris-
tian church. But it is due to him not to for-
get, that he was an inexorable enemy to lax-
ity and disorder; and maintained the neces-
sity of a regular and exact administration of
the church, although he was comparatively
indifferent about the form of that adminis-
tration, if it did but ensure a good supply for
the religious wants of the people. “The
mode of church government,” he would say,
“is immaterial; but peace and concord, kind-
ness and goodwill, are indispensable. But
alas, I rarely find, in these days, men nerved
with a holy resolution to contend for the sub-
stance more than for the ceremony; and dis-
posed in weak and indifferent things to be
weak and compliant.” Among such things
he classed those points of discipline, on
which the dissenters stood out, declaring that
“he could not in earnest find them to amount
to more.”
The religion of this pre-eminent saint was
incorporated with the whole frame of his
life and conversation. This gave a peculiar-
ity, which was striking and impressive, to
nany of his ordinary actions. They were
the same things which other men did, but
they were done in another manner, and bore
the shining print of his angelic spirit. So
impressively was this the case, that his
nephew, when a little child, struck with his
reverential manner of returning thanks after
a meal, observed to his mother, that “his
uncle did not give thanks like other folk.”
It may be doubted whether Christianity,
in the days of its youthful vigor, gave birth
to a more finished pattern than Leighton of
the love of holiness. It was truly his reign-
ing passion; and his longing to depart hence
grew out of an intense desire to be transformed
into the divine likeness. “To be content to
stay always in this world,” he observed, “is
above the obedience of angels. Those holy
spirits are employed according to the perfec-
tion of their natures, and restlessness in
hymns of praise is their only rest: but the
utmost We poor mortals can attain to, is to
lie awake in the dark, and a great piece of
art and patience it is, spatiosam fallere noc-
tem.” Often would he bewail the proneness
of Christians to stop short of that perfection,
the pursuit of which is enjoined upon us;
and it was his grief to observe, that even
good men are content to be “low and stunt-
ed vines.” The wish nearest his heart was,
to attain to the measure of the stature of the
fulness of Christ; and all his singularities,
for such to our reproach they are, arose from
this desire being in him so much more ardent
than it is in ordinary Christians. In the sub-
joined letter, this habit of mind, this insatia-
ble longing after perfect holiness, is finely
portrayed. It was written when he was
principal of the University of Edinburgh,
“SIR : Oh! what a weariness is it to live
among men, and find so few men; and among
Christians, and find so few Christians; so
much talk and so little action; religion
turned almost to a tune and air of words;
and amidst all our pretty discourses, pu-
sillanimous and base, and so easily drag-
ged into the mire, self and flesh and pride
and passion domineering, while we speak
of being in Christ and clothed with him,
and believe it, because we speak it so
often and so confidently. Well, I know, you
are not willing to be thus gulled; and hav-
ing some glances of the beauty of holiness,
aim no lower than perfection, which in the
end we hope to attain ; and in the meanwhile
the smallest advances toward it are more
worth than crowns and sceptres. I believe
it, you often think on these words of the
blessed champion Paul. (1 Cor. ix. 24, &c.)
There is a noble guest within us. Oh let
all our business be to entertain him honora-
bly, and to live in celestial love within ; that
will make all things without be very con-
temptible in our eyes. I should rove on did not
I stop myself, it falling out well too for that,
to be hard upon the post-hours ere I thought
of writing. Therefore, ‘good night,” is all
I add ; for whatever hour it comes to your
hand, I believe you are as sensible as I that
it is still night: but the comfort is, it draws
nigh toward that bright morning that shall
make amends.
“Your weary fellow-pilgrim,
“ R. L.”
It would perhaps be inexpedient for every
one to attain such habits of religious abstrac-
tion, and to keep as much aloof from the
world, as Leighton did in the period of his
life we are now reviewing. Indeed, he him-
self expressed his conviction, that “a thor-
ough practical belief of those things, which
we all acknowledge to be true with respect
to the etermal world, would hinder us from
buying and selling, and interfere with the
necessary business of life; or, at least, would
render it an intolerable drudgery.” God is
therefore indulgent to our state and condi-
tion, in not letting in upon our minds, in gen-
eral, more vivid views of futurity. Never-
theless, it is of incalculabie advantage to
have before our eyes some bright examples
of saints who have outstripped their compet-
itors, and have gained the summit of the
hill, up which the train of feebler pilgrims is
still painfully toiling. Such extraordinary
proficients in the life and power of godliness
are the salt of the earth, to keep it from cor-
ruption. They rebuke the slackness of those
half-hearted home-sick mariners, who stand
off and on, wistfully eying the shore from
which they have reluctantly parted, instead
of launching into the deep, and making sail
for a better country. They prevent a scan-
dalous depression of the standard of Chris-
tian piety; they animate the despondent to
hope and perseverance; and they exhibit,
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
39
with a demonstration which puts to shame
the cavils of the skeptic, the superiority of
Christian philosophy, in the formation of
character, to the inost elaborate systems of
human ethics.
Of the effectual eloquence of Leighton's
great example, a striking instance is adduced
in Mr. Edward Lightmaker's letter. The
writer’s father, after witnessing the holy and
mortified life of this eminent saint, became
sensible, that a man is in no safe condition
for dying, unless he be striving after the
highest degrees of piety. “If none shall go
to heaven,” he exclaimed, “but so holy a
man as this, what will become of me?” Un-
der these impressions he very much with-
drew from the world; relinquished a profita-
ble business, because of its dangerous entan-
glements; and made the care of his ultimate
felicity his chief occupation.
Such consequences might well be expect-
ed to flow from an intimacy with Leighton,
for his discourse breathed the spirit of heav-
en. To no one, perhaps, do the exquisite
lines of the Christian poet Cowper more ac-
curately apply :—
“When one, that holds communion with the skies,
Has filled his urn where these pure waters rise,
And once more mingles with us meaner things,
'Tis e'en as if an angel shook his wings;
Immortal fragrance fills the circuit wide,
That tells us whence his treasures are supplied.”
He seldom discoursed on secular matters,
without happily and naturally throwing in
some spiritual reflections; and it was his
professed opinion, that nothing takes off more
from the authority of ministers and the effi-
cacy of their message, than a custom of vain
and frivolous conversation. Indeed, “he had
brought himself into so composed a gravity,”
writes his first biographer, “that I never saw
him laugh, and but seldom smile ; and he
kept himself in such a constant recollection,
that I do not remember that I ever heard him
say one idle word. He seemed to be in a
perpetual meditation.” Although he was
not at all given to sermonize, yet any little
incident, that fell under his observation,
would cause some pious sentiment to drop
from him ; just as the slightest motion makes
a brimful goblet run over. Meeting a blind
beggar one day, he observed, “Methinks
this poor sufferer cries out in behalf of the
whole human race, as its representative; and
let what he so earnestly craves be given him,
as readily as God bestows a cure on the spir-
rtually blind who ask it.”—“It is extremely
severe,” said his sister to him, speaking of
the season. “But thou, O God, hast made
summer and winter,” was his devout reply.
Some one saying, “You have been to hear
a sermon :” “I met a sermon,” was his
answer, “a sermon de facto, for I met a
corpse; and rightly and profitably are the
funeral rites observed, when the living lay it
to heart.” Thus he endeavored to derive
spiritual good out of every passing circum-
stance, and to communicate good to others.
In a soul so full of heaven there was little
room for carthly attachments. Indeed, the
whole tone of his discourse, and the constant
tenor of his life, evinced his detachment, not
only from pomps, and riches, and delicacies,
but from what are usually esteemed to be
common comforts and necessaries. To his
judgment the middle condition of life best
approved itself. “Better to be in the midst,”
were his words, “between the two pointed
rocks of deep penury and high prosperity,
than to be on the sharps of either.” But his
choice, to quote his own emphatic expression,
was to choose nothing, and he left it to a
better wisdom than his own to carve out his
earthly lot. “If we are born to worldly
greatnesses, let us even take them, and en-
deavor to make friends with them who shall
stand us in good stead when we are put out
of our stewardship: but to desire that our
journey should be by the troublesome and
dangerous road of worldly prosperity, is a
mighty folly.” He was pleased with an in-
genious similitude of Dr. Sale's, who com-
pares the good things of this life to mush-
rooms, which need so many precautions in
eating, that wholly to waive the dish is the
safest wisdom.
To corporal indulgences none was ever
more indifferent. Indeed he practised a rigor-
ous abstemiousness, keeping three fasts in the
week, and one of them always on the Sun-
day; not from a superstitious esteem of the
bodily penance, but in order to make the
soul light and active for the enjoyment of
that sacred festival. His nephew thinks
that he injured his health by excessive ab-
stinence : but his own maxim was, “that
little eating, and little speaking, do no one
any harm ;” and he would say pleasantly
when dinner was announced, “Well, since
we are condemned to this, let us sit down.”
His notions of the moderation, which Chris-
tians ought to exercise at the table, will
be generally accounted extravagant. When
his sister once invited him to eat of a
particular dish, extolling it as very good, he
declined it, saying, “What is it good for,
but to please a wanton taste? One thing
forborne is better than twenty things taken.”
“But,” answered Mrs. Lightmaker, “why
were these things bestowed upon us?” “To
see,” he rejoined, “how well we could for-
bear them ;” and then added, “Shall I eat
of this delicacy, while a poor man wants his
dinner ?” He thought people in general
much too expensive and curious in the prepa-
ration of their meals, and wished this do-
mestic profusion were turned into a channel
of distribution to the poor. Everything be-
yond the mere necessaries of life he termed
the overflowings of a full cup, which ought
not to run to waste, but descend into the
poor man’s platter. The gratifications of
bodily appetite would not, he was persuaded,
40
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
be so much reckoned on, if professed Chris-
tians had more “spiritual sensuality,” as he
often termed that ardent relish, which is the
characteristic of rectified souls, for the meat
and drink, the hidden manna, of God’s im-
mortal banquet.
He used to compare a man’s station in life
to an imprisonment, and observed, that, “al-
though it is becoming to keep the place of
our confinement clean and meat, it were ill
done to build upon it.” His sister thinking
he carried his indifference to earthly things
too far, and that his munificence required
Some check, said to him once, “If you had
a wife and children you must not act thus.”
His answer was, “I know not how it would
be, but I know how it should be. “Enoch
walked with God;—and begat sons and
daughters.’”
In truth, his liberality was boundless. All
he received was distributed to the poor, ex-
cept the bare pittance which his necessities
imperiously demanded for himself. Unwil-
ling, however, to gain any credit for benefi-
cence, he commonly dispensed his bounty
through the hands of others, as we learn
from Burnet, who officiated as his almoner in
London.
In exemplification of his humane and
amiable condescension to his friends and de-
pendants, there is an anecdote, which will
not disgrace our pages. He once had a Ro-
man catholic servant, who made a point of
abstaining from flesh on the fast days pre-
scribed by the Romish calendar. Leighton,
being apprized of this, by Mrs. Lightmaker,
commented on the vanity of such scruples,
yet requested her to indulge the poor man
with such fare as suited his erroneous piety,
lest the endeavor to dissuade him from the
practice should drive him to falsehood or
prevarication. “For to this,” he added,
“many poor creatures are impelled, not so
much from a corrupt inclination, as for want
of a handsome truth.” So gentle was he in
his construction of the faults and foibles of
others.
It is of little moment to ascertain, even
were it possible, whether this be the identical
man-servant, whose idle pranks have earned
him a never-dying fame in Dunblane and its
neighborhood. The following story may be
taken as a sample of the provocations, with
which this thoughtless fellow used to try his
master's equanimity. , Having a fancy one
morning for the diversion, of fishing, he lock-
ed the door of the house, and carried off the
key, leaving his master imprisoned. He
was too much engrossed with his sport to
think of returning till the evening, when the
only admonition he received for his gross be-
havior from the meek bishop, was, “John,
when you next go a fishing, remember to
leave the key in the door.”
The whole history of Leighton's life pro-
claims his abhorrence of persecution. It is
related that his sister once asked him, at the
request of a friend, what he thought was the
mark of the Beast; at the same time adding,
“I told the inquirer that you would certainly
answer you could not tell.” “Truly you said,
well,” replied Leighton, “but, if I might
fancy what it were, it would be something
with a pair of horns that pusheth his neigh-
bor, and hath been so much seen and prac-
tised in church and state.” He also passed
a severe sentence on the Romanists, “who,
in their zeal for making proselytes, fetched
ladders from hell to scale heaven:” and he
deeply lamented, that men of the reformed
church should have given in to similar meas-
Ullſ 62.S.
We have seen, in the narrative of his pub-
lic conduct, how firmly he withstood the se-
were measures set afoot to produce a unifor-
mity of worship in Scotland. Swords and
halberds, tongs and pincers, were very unfit
instruments, in his esteem, for advancing the
science and practice of religion. “The scrip-
ture tells us, indeed, of plucking out a right
eye for the preservation of the whole body;
but if that eye admit of a cure, it should ra-
ther be preserved ; only let its cure be com-
mitted to the dexterous hands of the kindest
oculist, and not to a mere bungler, who
would mar instead of healing. For himself
he would suffer anything, rather than touch
a hair of the head of those, who labored un-
der such pitiable maladies, as errors in faith
must be accounted. Or, if did meddle with
them, it should be with such a gentle touch,
as would prove the friendliness of his dispo-
sition and purpose.” “I prefer,” he has been
heard to say, “an erroneous honest man be-
fore the most orthodox knave in the world;
and I would rather convince a man that he
has a soul to save, and induce him to live up
to that belief, than bring him over to my
opinion in whatsoever else beside. Would
to God that men were but as holy as they
might be in the worst of forms now among
us! Let us press them to be holy, and mis-
carry if they can.” Being told of a person
who had changed his persuasion, all he
said was, “Is he more meek ; more dead to
the world? If so, he has made a happy
change.”
It is related of him, that going one day to
visit a leading minister of the presbytery, he
found him discoursing to his company on the
duties of a holy life. Leighton, instead of
turning off to the subject of the current rea-
sons for nonconiformity, though he had gone
for the express purpose of discussing them,
instantly fell in with the train of conversa-
tion, and concluded his visit without attempt-
ing to change it. To some of his friends
who remonstrated with him on this apparent
oversight, “Nay,” he replied, “the good
man and I were in the main agreed; and for
the points in which we differ, they are mostly
unimportant; and though they be of mo-
ment, it is advisable before pressing any, to
win as many volunteers as we can.”
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
41
This feature of his character is further il-
lustrated by an anecdote, which there is
every reason to believe authentic. A friend
calling upon him one day, and not meeting
him at home, learned, on inquiry, that he
was gone to visit a sick presbyterian minister
on a horse which he had borrowed of the
catholic priest.
His sobriety of mind and soundness of
º Ought not to be passed over in si-
ence. These qualities were conspicuous in
his never pretending to develop the secret
things of God, notwithstanding the variety
of his learning, and his talent for high specu-
lation. Instead of hazarding a guess on a
difficult point, to which he had been re-
quested to turn his thoughts, he said to the
inquirer, on meeting him some time after-
ward, “I have not yet got the lesson you set
me.” And to his nephew, who complained
that there was a certain text of scripture
which he could not understand, his answer
was, “And many more that I can not.” In
reverently standing aloof from those myste-
ries of the divine nature and government,
which are enshrined in a light no mortal eye
can gaze upon undazzled, he discovered a
judgment equal to his modesty, and exem-
plified the saying of Solomon, that “with
the lowly is wisdom.” Being once interro-
gated about the Saints reigning with Christ,
he tried to elude the question by merely re-
plying, “If we suffer with him, we shall also
reign with him.” Pressed, however, to give
his opinion, whether or not the saints would
exercise rule in the earth, although Christ
should not in person assume the sovereignty,
he answered with exquisite judgment, “If
God hath appointed any such thing for us,
he will give us heads to bear such liquor:
our preferment shall not make us reel.” Pry-
ing into matters of this nature, which the
spirit of God has apparently sealed up from
man's inquisitiveness, was, in his estimation,
indecent and dangerous; and he thought
that passionate curiosity, which overleaps
the boundaries of revelation, might be well
rebuked by the angel's answer to Manoah,
“Why askest thou thus after my name, see-
ing it is secret?”, “Enough,” he said, “is
discovered to satisfy us, that righteousness
and judgment are within, although round
about his throne are clouds and darkness:”
and he blamed those, “who boldly venture
into the very thick darkness and deepest re-
cesses of the divine majesty.” “That pros-
pect of election and predestination,” said he,
“is a great abyss, into which I choose to
sink, rather than attempt to sound it. And
truly any attempt at throwing light upon it
makes it only a greater abyss, and is a piece
of blamable presumption.” In conformity
with these sound views, he always endeav-
ored, when principal of the university of
Edinburgh, to repress such perilous inquiries;
judging them of a nature to make young stu-
debts conceited, disputatious, and skeptical,
and to lead them away from the love of truth
and the practice of piety.
How discreet and tender a counsellor he
was to persons laboring under religious doubts
and perplexities, the two following letters
bear witness. The first of these is to a lady
of quality to whom he was personally un-
known, but who seems to have solicited his
advice through the intervention of a common
friend :—
“MADAM : Though I have not the honor
to be acquainted with your ladyship, yet a
friend of yours has acquainted me with your
condition, though, I confess, the unfittest of
all men to minister anything of spiritual re-
lief to any person, either by prayer or advice
to you; but he could have imparted such a
thing to none of greater secrecy, and withal
of greater sympathy and tender compassion
toward such as are exercised with those kind
of conflicts; as, having been formerly ac-
quainted with the like myself, all sorts of
skeptical and doubtful thoughts touching
those great points, having not only passed
through my head, but some of them have for
sometime sat more fast and painfully upon
my mind; but in the name of the Lord they
were at length quite dispelled and scattered.
And oh that I could love and bless Him.
who is my deliverer and strength, my rock
and fortress, where I have now found Safety
from these incursions; and I am very confi-
dent you shall shortly find the same; only
wait patiently on the Lord, and hope in him,
for you shall yet praise him for the help of
his countenance; and it is that alone that
can enlighten you, and clear your mind of
all those fogs and mists that now possess it,
and calm the storms that are raised within
it. You do well to read good books that are
proper for your help, but rather the shortest
and plainest, than the more tedious and vol-
uminous, that sometimes entangle a per-
plexed mind yet more, by grasping many
more questions, and answers, and arguments
than is needful: but above all still cleave to
the incomparable spring of light and divine
comfort, the Holy Scriptures, even in despite
of all doubts concerning them. And when
you find your thoughts in disorder and at a
loss, entertain no dispute with them by any
means at that time, but rather divert from
them to short prayer, or to other thoughts,
and sometimes to well chosen company, or
the best you can have where you are ; and
at some other time, when you find yourself
in a calmer and serener temper, and upon the
vantage ground of a little more confidence
in God, then you may resume your reasons
against unbelief, yet so as to beware of cast-
ing yourself into new disturbance. For when
your mind is in a sober temper, there is noth-
ing so suitable to its strongest reason, noth-
ing so wise and noble as religion; and to
believe it is so rational, that, as now I am
framed, I am afraid that my belief proceeds
6
42
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
too much from reason, and is not so divine
and Spiritual as I would have it; only when
I find (as in some measure through the grace
of God I do) that it hath some real virtue
and influence upon my affections and track of
life, I hope there is somewhat of a higher
tincture in it. But, in point of reason I am
well assured, that all that I have heard from
the wittiest atheists and libertimes in the
world, is nothing but bold ravery and mad-
ness, and their whole discourse a heap of
folly and ridiculous nonsense. For what
probable account can they give of the won-
derful frame of the visible world, without
the supposition of an eternal and infinite
power and wisdom and goodness that formed
it, and themselves, and all things in it 2 And
what can they think of the many thousands
of martyrs in the first age of Christianity,
that endured not simple death, but all the
inventions of the most exquisite tortures, for
their belief of that most holy faith, which,
if the miracles that confirmed it, had not
persuaded them so, they themselves had been
thought the most prodigious miracles of
madness in all the world ! It is not want
of reason on the side of religion that makes
fools disbelieve it, but the interest of their
brutish lusts and dissolute lives, makes them
wish it were not true : and there is this vast
difference betwixt you and them; they would
gladly believe less than they do, and you
would also gladly believe more than they
do : they are sometimes pained and torment-
ed with apprehensions that the doctrine of
religion is, or may be, true; and you are per-
plexed with suggestions to doubt of it, which
are to you as unwilling and unwelcome, as
these apprehensions of its truth are to them.
Believe it, madam, these different thoughts
of yours, are not yours, but his that inserts
them, and throws them as fiery darts into
your mind, and they shall assuredly be laid
to his charge, and not to yours. Think you
that Infinite Goodness is ready to take advan-
tage of his poor creatures, and to reject and
condemn those, that, against all the assaults
made upon them, desire to keep their heart
for him, and to acknowledge him, and to love
him, and live to him 2 He made us, and
knows our mould, and as a father pities his
children pities them that fear him ; for he is
their father, and the tenderest and kindest of
all fathers; and, as a father pities his child
when it is sick, and in the rage and ravery
of a fever, though it even utter reproachful
words against himself, shall not our dearest
Father both forgive and pity those thoughts
in any child of his, that arise not from any
wilful hatred of him, but are kindled in hell
within them 2 And no temptation hath be-
fallen you in this, but that which has been
incident to men, and to the best of men;
and their heavenly father hath not only for-
given them, but in due time hath given them
a happy issue out of them, and so he will
assuredly do to you. In the meantime,
when these assaults come thickest and vio-
lentest upon you, throw yourself down at his
footstool, and say; “O God, Father of mer-
cies, Save me from this hell within me. 1
acknowledge, I adore, I bless thee, whose
throne is in heaven, with thy blessed Son
and crucified Jesus, and thy Holy Spirit, and
also though thou slay me, yet will I trust in
thee: but I can not think thou canst hate
and reject a poor soul that desires to love
thee, and cleave to thee, so long as I can hold
by the skirts of thy garment until thou vio-
lently shake me off, which I am confident
thou wouldst not do, because thou art love
and goodness itself, and thy mercies endure
for ever.” Thus, or in what other frame your
soul shall be carried to vent itself into his
bosom, be assured, your words, yea, your
silent sighs and breathings shall not be lost,
but shall have a most powerful voice and
ascend into his ear, and shall return to you
with messages of peace and love in due time,
and, in the meantime, with secret supports,
that you faint not, nor sink in these deeps
that threaten to swallow you up. But I have
wearied you instead of refreshing you. I
will add no more, but that the poor prayers
of one of the unworthiest caitiffs in the world,
such as they be, shall not be wanting on your
behalf, and he begs a share in yours; for
neither you, nor any in the world, need that
charity more than he does. Wait on the
Lord, and be of good courage, and he shall
strengthen your heart: wait, I say, on the
Lord.”
The next is to some Christian friend, whose
name is unknown –
“CHRISTIAN FRIEND: Though I had very
little vacant time for it, yet I would have
seen you, if I could have presumed it might
have been any way useful for the quieting
of your mind. However, since I heard of
your condition, I cease not daily, as I can,
to present it to Him, who alone can effectu-
ally speak peace to your heart; and I am
confident, in due time, will do so. It is he
that stilleth the raging of the sea; and by a
word can turn the violentest storm into a
great calm. What the particular thoughts
or temptations are that disquiet you, I know
not; but whatsoever they are, look above
them, and labor to fix your eye on that infi-
nite goodness, which never faileth them,
that, by naked faith, do absolutely rely, and
rest upon it, and patiently wait upon him,
who hath pronounced them all, without ex-
ception, blessed that do so. Say often within
your own heart; Though he slay me, yet
will I trust in him ; and if, after some inter-
vals, your troubled thoughts do return, check
them still with the holy Psalmist's words:
Why art thou cast down, O my soul. &c. If
you can thoroughly, sink yourself... down,
through your own nothingness, into Him who
is all, and entirely renouncing your own will,
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
43
embrace that blest and holy will in all things,
there I am sure you shall find that rest, which
all your own distempers, and all the powers
of darkness shall not be able to deprive you
of. I incline not to multiply words; and,
indeed, other advice than this I have none to
give you. The Lord of peace, by the sprink-
ling of the blood of his Son Jesus, and the
sweet breathings of the great Comforter, his
own Holy Spirit, give you peace in himself.
Amen.”
We learn from Burnet, “that his thoughts
were lively, oft out of the way and surpri-
sing, yet just and genuine;” and several of
his sayings might be adduced to justify this
praise, and to show him well read in the
science of human nature and its manage-
ment. It was an aphorism of his, that “One
half of the world lives upon the madness
of the other.” He well knew, writes his
nephew, when it was expedient to be silent,
and when it behooved him to speak—a know-
ledge not less rare than valuable. One of
his favorite axioms was, that “All things
operate according to the disposition of the
subject;” and he was of opinion, that the
silence of a good man will sometimes convey
a more effectual lesson than his discourse.
Two things, he observed, are commonly re-
quisite to make religious advice salutary,
qamely, time and judgment; and he thought
the following maxim might often be remem-
bered with advantage, philosophandum, sed
paucis. . Accordingly, he was quite against
jading hearers with discourses beyond the
measure of their understanding, or their pa-
tience: “ for 'tis better,” said he, “to send
them home still hungry than surfeited.”
He was no advocate in general for crude and
abrupt exposures of unpalatable truths. Be-
ing told of an author, who had entitled his
jº. Naked truth whipt and stript,”
is remark was, “It might have been better
to clothe it;” and he saw nothing praise-
worthy in the roughness, misnamed honesty,
of some people, “who would rather over-
turn the boat than trim it.” I shall only
add, in illustration of this point of his char-
acter, a prayer which he used to offer up,
which is pregnant with melancholy mean-
ing: “Deliver me, O Lord, from the errors
of wise men; yea, and of good men.”
Of his humility, that grace so lovely in
the eyes of Heaven, and which was truly his
crowning grace, it would be difficult to take
the dimensions. Burnet mentions that “he
seemed to have the lowest thoughts of him-
self possible, and to desire that all other
persons should think as meanly of him, as he
did of himself; and he bore all sorts of ill
usage and reproach, like a man that took
pleasure in it.”
This character of his mind is finely illus-
trated in the following passage from one of
his letters.
“And now I have begun, I would end just
here ; for I have nothing to say, nothing of
affairs (to be sure) private nor public; and
to strike up to discourses of devotion, alas !
what is there to be said, but what you suffi-
ciently know, and daily read, and daily think,
and, I am confident, daily endeavor to do 2
And I am beaten back, if I had a great mind
to speak of such things, by the sense of so
great deficiency, in doing those things that
the most ignorant among Christians can not
choose but know. Instead of all fine no-
tions, I fly to Kūpte ëXémorov, Xotor & *Aéma op. I
think them the great heroes and excellent
persons of the world, that attain to high de-
grees of pure contemplation and divine love;
but next to those, them that in aspiring to
that and in falling short of it, fall down into
deep humility, and self-contempt, and a real
desire to be despised and trampled on by all
the world. And I believe that they that sink
lowest into that depth, stand nearest to ad-
vancement to those other heights: for the
great King who is the fountain of that honor,
hath given us this character of himself, that
He resists the proud and gives grace to the
humble. Farewell, my dear friend, and be
so charitable as sometimes in your addresses
upward, to remember a poor caitiff, who no
day forgets you.
“13th December, 1676. “ R. L.”
On the eve of taking a bishopric, when he
perceived how many obstacles there were to
his doing the good he wished to others, “Yet
one benefit at least,” said he, “will arise from
it ; I shall break that little idol of estimation
my friends have for me, and which I have
been so long sick of.” Though he could not
be ignorant of the value set on his pulpit dis-
courses by the public,+for never was a
wandering eye seen when he preached, but
the whole congregration would often melt
into tears before him, yet the most urgent
entreaties of his friends could never obtain
from him the publication of a single sermon.
Indeed, he looked upon himself as so ordinary
a preacher, and so unlikely to do good, that
he was always for giving up his place to
other ministers; and after he became a bishop,
he always preferred preaching to small con-
gregations, and would never give notice before-
hand when he was to fill the pulpit. Of a
piece with his rooted dislike to anything, that
seemed to imply consequence in himself, was
his strong objection to have his portrait taken.
When it was requested of him, he testified
unusual displeasure, and said, “If you will
have my likeness, draw it with charcoal:”
meaning, no doubt, that he was carbone
notandus, as justly obnoxious to scorn and
condemnation. His picture was, however,
clandestinely taken when he was about the
middle age; and as the engravings prefixed
to his works are copied from it, it is a pleas-
ure to know from such good authority as his
ºw's letter, that it greatly resembled
lDſl.
44
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
Nature had endowed him with a warm
and affectionate disposition, which was not
extinguished by his superlative love to God,
though it was always kept in due subordina-
tion. In his commentary on the epistle of
Peter he remarks, that “our only safest way
is to gird up our affections wholly;” and he
lived up to this principle. Accordingly, after
avowing once, how partial he was to the
anniable character and fine accomplishments
of a relation, he added, “Nevertheless I can
readily wean myself from him, if I can not
persuade him to become wise and good; Sine
bonitate nulla majestas, nullos sapor.” To
him, as to that Holy One of whose spirit he
partook largely, whoever did the will of his
heavenly Father were more than natural
kindred. Such, therefore, of his relations as
were Christians indeed, had a double share
of his tenderness; and to the strength of this
twofold bond, not less than to his heavenly-
mindedness, we may ascribe his exclamation
on returning from the grave, in which his
brother-in-law had been interred : “Fain
would I have thrown myself in with him.” A
beautiful extract from a letter, which he wrote
to that gentleman on the death of a particu-
larly sweet and promising child, to whom he
himself was tenderly attached, may here find
a suitable place.
“I am glad of your health and recovery of
your little ones; but indeed it was a sharp
stroke of a pen, that told me your pretty
Johnny was dead : and I felt it truly more
than, to my remembrance, I did the death of
any child in my lifetime. , Sweet thing, and
is, he so quickly, laid to sleep 3 Happy he
Though we shall have no more the pleasure
of his lisping and laughing, he shall have no
more the pain of crying, nor of being sick, nor
of dying ; and hath wholly escaped the trou-
ble of schooling, and all other sufferings of
boys, and the riper and deeper griefs of riper
years, this poor life being all along nothing
but a linked chain of many sorrows and many
deaths. Tell my dear sister she is now much
more akin to the other world ; and this will
quickly be passed to us all. John is but gone
an hour or two sooner to bed, as children use
to do, and we are undressing to follow. And
the more we put off the love of this present
world and all things Superfluous, beforehand,
we shall have the less to do, when we lie
down. It shall refresh me to hear from you
at your leisure.
“Sir, your affectionate brother,
“EDINBRo’, Jan. 16th.” “R. LEIGHTon.
Leighton was a great admirer of rural
scenery ; and, in his rides upon the Sussex
downs, he often descanted, with sublime fer.
Yor, on the marvellous works of the almighty
Architect. Adverting to the boundless varie.
ties of creation, he remarked, that there is no
wonder after a straw, omnipotence being as
necessary to make the least things out of
nothing as the greatest. But his loſty mind
seemed especially to delight in soaring to the
celestial firmament, and expatiating through
those stupendous vaults, from which so many
glorious lamps are hung out, on purpose he
believed to attract our thoughts to the glory
that excelleth ; and “we miss the chief benefit
they are meant to render us, if we use them
not to light us up to heaven.” “It was a
long hand,” he would exclaim, “and a strong
hand too, that stretched out this stately canopy
above us; and to him whose work it is we
may rightly ascribe most excellent majesty.”
Afrer some such expressions of devout amaze-
ment, he would sink into silent and adoring
contemplation.
Leighton was fond of music both vocal and
instrumental, and delighted in its appropria-
tion to divine uses; but he disapproved of its
being made subservient to a refined sensuali-
ty, and declared that he preferred the croaking
of frogs to the idle songs, which professed
Christians sing and play without blushing or
compunction. He contrasted the harp and
psaltery of David, rehearsing the praises of
the Lord, with the tabret and pipe, so loathed
by Isaiah, because they were employed to
inflame the passions and tickle the fancies of
lewd wassailers, and to divert their thoughts
from those operations of the Lord's hands,
“which utter the most harmonious music.”
We have seen that his walk was direct to
heaven, and the drift of his conversation
habitually unearthly. He died daily by the
mortification of his natural appetites and
affections; and he was visibly perfect in that
frame of mind, which he wondered should not
be universal, “in which every second thought
is of death.” It was not in a melancholy tone
that he touched on this serious subject; for
the illusions spread over earthly things had
long since faded away from his eyes, which
were fixed in the sublime anticipations of
faith on those blissful realities, that shall open
upon the redeemed of the Lord, when they
have shaken off mortality. To him, there-
fore, death had lost its sting : it was become
a pleasant theme ; and gave occasion to some
of his most cheerful sayings. He would
compare this heavy clod of clay, with which
the soul is encumbered, to the miry boots, of
which the traveller gladly divests himself on
finishing his journey: and he could not dis-
guise his own wish to be speedily unclothed,
instead of lingering below till his garments
were worn out and dropped off through age.
In general, his temper was serene rather than
gay; but his nephew states, that if ever it
rose to an unusual pitch of vivacity, it was
when some illness attacked him :— when,
“from the shaking of the prison doors, he
was led to hope, that some of those brisk
blasts would throw them open, and give him
the release he coveted.” Then he seemed to
stand tiptoe on the margin of eternity, in a
delightful amazement of spirit, eagerly await-
ing the summons to depart, and feeding his
soul with the prospect of immortal life and
THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
45
glory. Sometimes, while contemplating his
future resting-place, he would break out into
that noble apostrophe of pious George Her-
bert;
“O let me roost and nestle there;
Then of a sinner thou art rid,
And I of hope and fear.”
Hearing once of the death of a portly man;
“How is it,” he exclaimed, “that A
has broke through those goodly brick walls,
while I am kept in by a bit of flimsy deal?”
He would say pleasantly, that he had his
nightcap on, and rejoiced that it was so near
bedtime, or, rather, so near the hour of rising
to one who had long lain awake in the dark;
and pointing to the children of the family,
one evening, who were showing symptoms
of weariness and importuning to be undressed;
“Shall I,” said he, “who am threescore and
ten, be loath to go to bed ?” This world he
considered a state of nonage, and the land of
mature men a land very far off. No apoph-
thegm of inunspired wisdom pleased him
more than that of Seneca : “Illa dies, quam ut
supremam meluisses, atternitatis natalis est.”
His alacrity to depart resulted from his earnest
desire to “See and enjoy perfection in the
perfect sense of it, which he could not do and
live.” “That consummation,” he would say,
“is truly a hope deferred ; but, when it
cometh, it will be a tree of life.” Perhaps,
indeed, he would have been over-anxious to
take wing, had not his impatience been
balanced by profound submission to the divine
good pleasure. This alone prevented an ex-
cessive desire for the moment to arrive, when
his soul, completely fledged, should spring
into its proper element; should remove far
away, not only from the wickednesses of a
profane world, but also from the childish-
nesses of religious Christians; and should be
at rest amidst the truly reformed churches
of just men made perfect, those happy cir-
cumferences, as he termed them, which are
intimately and perfectly united to their sola-
tious centre, and to each other.
An extract from a letter, supposed to have
been written a short time before his death,
may here be aptly inserted.
“I find daily more and more reason without
me, and within me yet much more, to pant
and long to be gone. I am grown exceeding
uneasy in writing and speaking, yea almost
in thinking, when I reflect how cloudy our
clearest thoughts are: but, I think again
what other can we do, till the day break and
the shadows flee away, as one that lieth awake
in the night must be thinking; and one thought
that will likely oftenest return, when by all
other thoughts he finds little relief, is, when
will it be day 2”
Yet Leighton, for the comfort of weak
believers be it recorded, did not pretend to
an absolute assurance of final salvation. Con-
versing, one day, in his wonted strain of holy
animation, of the blessedness of being fixed
as a pillar in the heavenly Jerusalem to go
no more out,” he was interrupted by a near
relation exclaiming, “Ah, but you have assur-
ance l’ “No, truly,” he replied, “only a
good hope, and a great desire to see what
they are doing on the other side, for of this
world I am heartily weary.”
Such was the holy man, of whom little now
remains to be told, except his dismissal from
this troublesome scene to that place among
“The sanctities of heaven,”
which he had long preoccupied in affection
and spirit.
After a retirement of five years, he was
alarmed by receiving a letter in the king's
own hand, which threatened him with an
order to exchange his peaceful retreat for the
distraction and turbulence of a public station.
The letter ran as follows:–
“WINDsor, July 16, 1679.
“My LoRD: I am resolved to try what clem-
ency can prevail upon such in Scotland, as
will not conform to the government of the
church there; for effecting of which design,
I desire that you may go down to Scotland
with your first conveniency; and take all
possible pains for persuading all you can of
both opinions to as much mutual correspon-
dence and concord as can be: and send me
from time to time characters both of men and
things. In order to this design, I shall send
a precept for two hundred pounds sterling
upon my Exchequer, till you resolve how to
serve me in a stated employment.
“Your loving Friend,
“CHARLEs R.
“For the Bishop of Dunblane.”
It was sent at the urgent suit of the Duke
of Monmouth, who then administered the
affairs of Scotland, and who was anxious for
Leighton to go back and reside in that coun-
try, although he should not consent to resume
his episcopal office. Leighten was willing
to take this step, if any likelihood could be
shown of benefit resulting from it; but the
duke's credit failing shortly afterward, this
project seems to have fallen with it.
In the year 1684, Leighton was earnestly
requested by Burnet to go up to London, and
to visit Lord Perth, who had begun to feel
compunction for his lamentable departure from
virtue, and had expressed an earngst desire
to have the benefit of the bishop's counsel.
The hope of reclaiming that unhappy noble-
man prevailed over personal considerations,
and he went up to London accordingly, healthy
in appearance, but with feelings of illness,
which may account for his presentiment that
his dissolution was at hand. “The worse I
am,” said he in the plenitude of his self-deny-
ing benevolence, “the more I choose to go,
that I may give one pull at yon poor brother,
and snatch him, if possible, from the infectious
air of the court.” Burnet had not seen him
* Rev. iii. 12.
46
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
for a considerable time before, and was aston-
ished at the freshness and vigor which ap-
peared in him notwithstanding his advanced
age. His hair was still black, and his motions
were lively; and his devotion shone forth
with the same lustre and vivacity as ever.
On his friend, however, expressing great
pleasure at seeing him lookso hearty, Leighton
observed, that for all that he was very near his
end, and his work and journey both were now
almost done. This answer made little im-
pression on Burnet at the time; but his mind
reverted to it, after the event of three more
days had stamped it with a prophetic em-
phasis. e
The very next day he was attacked with
an oppression on the chest, and with cold and
stitches, which proved to be the commence-
ment of a pleurisy. He sunk rapidly, for on
the following day both speech and sense had
left him ; and, after panting for about twelve
hours, he expired without a struggle in the
arms of Bishop Burnet, his intimate friend,
his ardent and affectionate admirer. Nothing
is recorded of his last hours: and indeed the
disease that carried him off was such, by its
nature and rapid progress, as to preclude
much speaking. But no record is necessary
of the dying moments of a man, who has
served God from his infancy; and whose path
had been a shining light up to the moment
when the shades of death closed over it. God
was, assuredly, the strength of his heart in
the hour of his last agony, and is now his
glorious portion, his exceeding and eternal
great reward. It was needless for himself
that he should have notice of the bridegroom's
coming; for his lamp was always trimmed,
his loins were always girded. To his sur-
viving friends, it could have afforded little
additional satisfaction, to have heard him
express, on his death-bed, that faith and holy
hope, of which his life had been one unbroken
example: neither could he have left, for the
benefit of posterity, any sayings more suit-
able to a dying believer than those he daily ut-
tered ; living, as he had long lived, on the con-
fines of the eternal world, and in the highest
frame of spirituality that it seems possible for
an imbodied soul to attain. He entered into
his rest, on the 25th of June, A. D. 1684, in
the seventy-fourth year of his age.
Two circumstances connected with his
death ought not to be unnoticed. He had
often said, that if he were to choose a place
to die in, it should be an inn. In such a place
he thought that a Christian believer might
properly , finish his pilgrimage; the whole
world being to him but a large and noisy inn,
and he a wayfarer, tarrying in it as short a
time as possible, and then hasting away to
his Father's house. Besides, he considered
it undesirable to be surrounded by weeping
friends and officious domestics, whose sorrow.
ful attentions might unnerve and distract the
mind, when it ought to be wholly collected
and set upon God; whereas no such distur-
bance of spirit would result from the uncon-
cerned ministry of strangers. This singular
wish was gratified, for he breathed his last
in the Bell Inn, Warwick Lane.
The other circumstance is this. While he
resided on his diocess in Scotland, his for-
bearance with his tenants was so great, that
at the time of his resignation considerable
sums were due to him. His subsequent in-
come seems to have arisen principally from
these arrears, which dropped in slowly from
time to time ; and the last remittance that
he had to expect was made about six weeks
before his death, “so that,” to adopt Bishop
Burnet's happy phrase, “his provision and
journey failed both at once.”
His remains were conveyed to Horsted
Keynes, the parish in which he had spent his
concluding years, and were interred in an
ancient chancel” of the church, with no other
pomp to hallow his obsequies, than the un-
bought attendance and inexpressive tears of
the surrounding neighborhood. On his tomb-
stone is the following simple epitaph:—
Depositum
Roberti + Leightounj
Archiepiscopi Glasguensis
Apud Scotas
Qui objt xxv die Junij
Anno Dmj 1684
AEtatis suae 74.
It would be impossible to hang more fra-
grant garlands on his tomb, than are already
woven for it by Bishop Burnet. The first I
shall produce, is from his preface to the life
of Bishop Bedell.
“I shall not add much of the bishops that
have been in that church [of Scotland], since
the last re-establishment of the order; but
that I have observed among the few of them,
to whom I had the honor to be known par-
ticularly, as great and exemplary things as
ever I met with in all ecclesiastical history;
not only the practice of the strictest of all the
ancient canons, but a pitch of virtue and piety,
beyond what can fall under common imita-
tion, or be made the measure of even the most
angelical rank of men ; and saw things in
them that would look liker fair ideas, than
what men clothed with flesh and blood could
grow up to. But of this I will say no more,
since those that are concerned are yet alive,
and their character is too singular, not to
W
* In this chancel, which it has lately been found
necessary to take down on account of its decayed
state, were some venerable tombs of the family at
Broadhurst, who possessed the handsome old mansion
of that name, and the patronage of the living. The
whole is now transferred by purchase to another
family. In the same chancel was the tomb of the
archbishop's younger brother, Sir Ellis, who died
only a few months before him, as appears from the
inscription on his tombstone :-
Here lyeth interred the
Body of Sir Ellis Leighton, Knt.,
ho died 9th January 1684.
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
47
make them to be as easily known, if I enlarged
upon it as if I named them.”
The next is from the “History of his own
Time.” w
“I bear still the greatest veneration for the
memory of that man, that I do for any person ;
and reckon my early knowledge of him, which
happened the year after this [Leighton's
promotion to a bishopric], and my long and
intimate conversation with him, that con-
tinued to his death, for twenty-three years,
among the greatest blessings of my life; and
for which I know I must give account to
God, in the great day, in a most particular
manner.”
My third and last quotation shall be ſrom
his “Pastoral Care,” in which, after stating
that the matter of it had been the chief sub-
ject of his thoughts for more than thirty years,
he goes on as follows:—
“I was, formed to them by a bishop, that
had the greatest elevation of soul, the largest
compass of knowledge, the most mortified and
most heavenly disposition, that I ever yet
saw in mortal ; that had the greatest parts,
as well as virtues, with the perfectest humili-
ty, that I ever saw in man; and had a sub-
lime strain in preaching, with so grave a
gesture, and such a majesty, both of thought,
of language, and of pronunciation, that I never
once saw a wandering eye where he preached;
and have seen whole assemblies often melt in
tears before him ; and of whom I can say with
great truth, that in a free and frequent con-
versation with him, for above two-and-twenty
years, I never knew him say an idle word,
that had not a direct tendency to edification:
and I never once saw him in any other tem-
er, but that which I wished to be in, in the
ast moments of my life. For that pattern,
which I saw in him, and for that conversa-
tion, which I had with him, I know how
much I have to answer to God: and though
my reflecting on that which I knew in him,
gives me just cause of being deeply humbled
in myselſ, and before God; yet I feel no more
sensible pleasure in anything than in going
over in my thoughts all I saw and observed
in him.”
Leighton was small of stature, as may be
inferred from some letters of Dr. Fallf to a
friend, in which he is more than once play-
* The Life of Bishop Bedell was published in the
year 1695, and to the passage above cited is subjoined
the following note, which confirms, if confirmation be
needed, its application to Archbishop Leighton: “The
worthy person here meant is dead since this was
put in the press; but both his name and a more par-
ticular account of him, as it well deserves a book by
itself, so will perhaps be given on another occasion.”
f Dr. Fall appears first in the family of Craig Hall
(Sir Thomas Hope's), as governor, it would seem,
to a Mr. Hope, whom he accompanied to the con-
tinent. He was afterward abroad, in the same
capacity, with the sons of the Marquis of Queens-
berry, Lord Treasurer, through whose patronage he
was appointed, about the * 1682 or 1683, to be
King's Historiographer, with a salary of 40l. sterling.
On the 29th September, 1684, he was chosen Principal
fully denominated “the little bishop ;” and
One of the anecdotes inserted above, in which
he contrasts himself with a corpulent person,
denotes him to have been of a spare habit.
To judge from his portrait, his countenance
must have been a faithful interpreter of his
mind; for it indicates sense in alliance with
Sanctity, sweetness dignified by strength, and
vivacity shaded with pensiveness and tem-
pered by devotion. Of his manners in private
life we have no more exact information, than
may be deduced from the foregoing narrative:
but from this we may confidently pronounce,
that in his general character and deportment
there was a happy union of dignity and
meekness; and that in him the sterling in-
tegrity of the Christian was refined, without
being impaired, by secular accomplishments.
Indeed, religion combining so largely as it did
in Leighton, with a happy nature improved
by travel, by multifarious and elegant learn-
ing, and by familiar intercourse with the
politest men of the age, could not fail of form-
ing a gentleman of a higher cast, than worldly
education alone can model.
It only remains to offer some remarks on
the intellectual character and attainments of
Archbishop Leighton, on his genius as a wri-
ter, and on the style of his compositions.
With respect to his mental qualities, it
may be safely affirmed by the most scrupu-
lous encomiast, that he was gifted with a ca-
pacious mind, a quick apprehension, a reten-
tive memory, a lively fancy, a correct taste,
a sound and discriminating judgment. All
these excellences are conspicuous in almost
every page of his writings: for in Leighton's
compositions there is an extraordinary even-
ness. One is not recruited here and there,
by a striking thought or a brilliant sentence,
from the fatigue of toiling through many a
heavy paragraph, but “one spirit in them
rules;” and while he occasionally mounts to
a surpassing height, he seldom or never sinks
into flatness. The reason is, that he is ak-
ways master of his subject, with a clear con-
ception of his own meaning and purpose, and
a perfect command of all the subsidiary ma-
terials; and still more, that his soul is al-
ways teeming with those divine inspirations,
which seem vouchsafed only from time to
time to ordinary mortals.
Had the mind of Leighton been less exact
and perspicacious, the rapid and multitudi-
nous flow of his ideas would have rendered
him a writer of more than common obscurity;
of the College of Glasgow, from which situation he
was removed, soon after the Revolution, on declining
to take the oaths. In 1671 he sends his friend Wylie
a translation from the Italian of the account of “The
last Conclave;” and he is supposed to be the translator
of Mascardi's History of Count Fleschi's Rebellion,
about the year 1670. He was evidently a great
admirer of Leighton, wrote a Latin preface to the
first edition of the Praelectiones and Paraeneses, and
took a lively interest in the publication of the Com-
mentary on the first Epistle of Peter.
48
THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
for he was impatient of those rules of art by
which theological compositions are usually
confined. No man, indeed, was better ac-
quainted with scholastic canons and dialecti-
cal artifices; but he towered above them.
At the same time his argument never limps,
although the form be not syllogistic, the cor-
rectness of his mind preventing material de-
viation from a lucid and consecutive order.
There is a logical continuity of thought to be
traced in his writings; and his ideas, per-
haps, may not be unaptly compared to flow-
ers in a garden, so luxuriantly overhanging
trellises, as to obviate the primness and for-
mality of straight lines, without however
straying into a wantonness of confusion, that
would perplex the observer's eye. *
It is not to be denied, that a more Scien-
tific arrangement in Leighton's compositions
would have greatly assisted the memory of
his readers: and let those who come short
of him in intellectual power, beware of imi-
tating his laxity of method. The rules of
art, though cramps to vigor, are crutches to
feebleness. My impression is, however, that
the effusions of our author’s mind, disposed
more artificially, would have lost in richness
what they gained in precision, and the gain
would have been overbalanced by the loss.
From the structure and flow of his discourses,
I should conjecture it to have been his cus-
tom, when he had determined to write on
any subject, to ruminate on it till his mind
had assumed a corresponding form and tone ;
after which he poured forth his conceptions
on paper without pause or effort, like the ir-
repressible droppings of the loaded honey-
comb. So imbued was his holy soul with
the principles of the gospel, or so completely,
I might better say, was the whole scheme
of revelation amalgamated in the menstruum
of his powerful intellect, that whatever he
wrote on sacred subjects came forth with an
easy flow, clear, serene, and limpid. In all
his compositions there is a delightful consist-
ency: nothing indigested and furbid; no
dissonances of thought, no jarring positions;
none of the fluctuations, the ambiguities, the
contradictions which betray a penury of knowl-
edge, or an imperfect assimilation of it with
the understanding. Equally master of every
part of the evangelical system, he never
steps out of his way to avoid what encoun-
ters him, or to pick up what is not obvious:
he never betakes himself to the covers of un-
fairness or ignorance; but he unfolds, with
the utmost intrepidity and clearness, the topic
that comes before him.
Moreover, it not a little enhances the value
of his writings, that he is fully aware how
far the legitimate range of human inquiry
extends, and what is the boundary Divine
wisdom hath affixed to man's inquisitiveness.
While the half-learned theologian beats about
in the dark, and vainly attempts a passage
through metaphysical labyrinths, which it is
the part of sober wisdom not to enter, the
sagacious Leighton distinctly sees the line,
beyond which speculation is folly: and in
stopping at that limit he displays a prompt-
ness of decision, commensurate with his un-
wavering certainty in proceeding up to it.
Such a writer as Leighton was incapable
of parade. He was too intent upon his sub-
ject to be choice of words and phrases, and
his works discover a noble carelessness of
diction, which in some respects enhances
their beauty. Their strength is not wasted
by excessive polishing : their glow is not im-
paired by reiterated touches. But, though he
was little curious in culling words and com-
pounding sentences, his language is generally
apt and significant, sufficient for the grandeur
of his conceptions, without encumbering
them. If not always grammatically correct,
it is better than mere correctness would make
it; more forcible and touching; attracting
little notice to itself, but leaving the reader
to the full impulse of those ideas of which it
is the vehicle. Leighton is great by the
magnificence of thought : by the spontaneous
emanations of a mind replete with sacred
knowledge, and bursting with seraphic affec-
tions; by what pauseless gush of intellectual
splendor, in which the outward shell, the in-
termediate letter, is eclipsed and almost anni.
hilated, that full scope may be given to the
mighty effulgence of the informing spirit.
Dr. Doddridge applies to his eloquence the
description given by the great epic poet of the
oratory of Ulysses:—
$mea viſhāčegatv čotkóra Xelpepingly
But in this, he seems to have misconceived
the meaning of Homer, who compares the
thronging words and forcible elocution of the
Grecian hero to a storm of pelting rain and
driving sleet, and not to flakes of snow de-
scending in rapid but gentle succession.
A sweet and mellow pathos is certainly the
characteristic of his style: but there is nothing
in it languid and effeminate. While the
Suavity of his spirit flavors all his productions,
the strength of his well-informed and mascu-
line understanding makes them abundantly
solid and nutritious. He is not like a pulpy
reed, distilling luscious juices; he is a rock
pouring forth rivers % oil.
I, eighton never affects a concise senten-
tiousness. He is perfectly free from that
trick of antithesis, which hit the vicious taste
of the day; or was tolerated under the plea
that a sentiment would be more securely
lodged in the memory, if the sentence which
conveyed it were armed with an epigrammatic
point. But his copiousness does not consist
in a vain prodigality of words. It is the re-
dundance of a full mind, venting itself that it
may be refreshed, and not of a perplexed mind,
painfully disembarrassing itself by endless
explanations. He is not the literary me-
chanic, who sets himself to spin out a scanty
material into a vast expanse of web, or to
hammer out a pretty ingot into an immense
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
49
surface; but his diffuseness, or rather pro-
fuseness, proceeds from the large stores he
has amassed ; from the broad survey of his
commanding intellect ; and from that acute-
ness which at once resolves into its element-
ary truths a complex proposition, and tracks
a remote consequence to its principle through
all its gradations. It may be safely affirmed,
that there are not many theological writers,
in whose volumes are more of “the seeds of
things.” Perhaps he is less entitled than
some of his great contemporaries to the praise
of being an original thinker: yet the thoughts
of others become so identified in him with
whatever it is that constitutes the intellectual
individuality of a writer, as to issue from his
mind with a new cast, bearing his own pecu-
liar stamp and superscription. Attentive
students of his works will be repaid by an
abundance of excellent matter ; and will
never perceive symptoms of the knowledge
and vigor of the writer being nearly run out.
In fact, he is never exhausted, till he has ex-
hausted the subject; and this he makes no
effort to accomplish, but he stops the exuda-
tion of his flowing mind, when enough has
been produced, lest he deluge instead of
Irrigating.
To his perfect freedom from the vanity of
authorship it may partly be ascribed, that
with all his knowledge and fertility of inven-
tion, Leighton is never betrayed into weari-
Some and subtle details. There is in him no
puerile ambition of dissecting a principle into
its minutest ramifications, when such elaborate
precision would serve no higher end than to
display the skill of the artist. He lays down
the fundamentals of Christian faith and prac-
tice, with just enough of individual applica-
tion to give them weight and clearness, and
then leaves them to take root and fructify in
the bosoms of those whom he addresses.
Neither can it have escaped the observa-
tion of one at all conversant with his writings,
that it is never the purpose of his mind to
make good any particular system of divinity,
nor to fortify its weak positions, and set off
its strong proofs and advantages. He is con-
stantly aiming at higher matters; and shakes
off with disdain the servile fetters, which
would shackle the free and generous spirit of
religion. Brought up in the school of rigid
Calvinism, he adhered, in the judgment of
his maturer years, to the tenets of the French
reformer, divested however of their rigor.
To say that he coincided, for the most part,
with Calvin in the interpretation of scripture
would be correct; but it would be most in-
correct to denominate him a Calvinist, if that
appellation imply an assent to a particular
Scheme of theology, on the authority of that
famous divine. Leighton, though the hum-
blest of mankind, was not weakly distrustful
of his own powers; and therefore we never
find him slavishly treading in the footsteps of
predecessors. Yet, though free and indepen-
dent, he is not audacious and dogmatical.
His manner of handling the profound mystery
of predestination reads an excellent lesson to
those precipitate sciolists, who make an un-
qualified affirmation of that mystery, in the
high Calvinistic sense, to be the test of ortho-
doxy, and, one might almost add, the passport
to salvation ;-who contrive to interweave it
with every sermon and treatise ;-and who,
instead of building on it sublime ideas of the
majesty and goodness of God, and deducing
from it powerful motives to humility and
holiness, so treat it as to weaken the force
of moral and religious obligation on the mind,
and to disparage the awful sanctity of the
supreme and impartial governor of mankind.
It is one of our author's excellences, that
he assigns to the several parts of the system
of Redemption their relative rank and impor-
tance. In unfolding the dignity of Christ, the
glory of his person, and the satisfactory virtue
of his death, no one can exceed him in Scrip-
tural orthodoxy and devotional feeling. Yet
with him the atonement is not of such en-
grossing magnitude, as to overshadow the
chief ends for which a piacular sacrifice was
appointed: but its incalculable value, in re-
spect to mankind, is shown to arise from its
being the foundation on which the spiritual
temple of God is to be rebuilt. ... To open a
way for the return of the Holy Spirit to the
world, is the grand scope and aim of the
mediatorial covenant as prominently exhibited
by Leighton; and its ultimate glory is shown
to result from the renovation of sinners to
rigntedusness, of which the death of Jesus
Christ is in its meritorious consequence effec-
tive, by appeasing the judicial resentment of
heaven, and cancelling the offender's obliga-
tion to punishment. g
The points, indeed, on which his soul was
constantly fixed, whence accrues such a heav-
enly grandeur to all his discourses, were the
noble vocation of a Christian, and the height
to which a regenerate soul Ought to rise above
sublunary objects; the nearness of death:
the mysterious vastness of the Godhead; the
stupendous concerns of eternity ; and the
blessedness resulting from close communion
with the Father of Spirits, and from conformi-
ty to the pattern which Jesus Christ bequeath-
ed to his followers, of consummate purity and
virtue. When Leighton addresses himself
to these matters, he does indeed utter his
voice from high places; and in presses us with
the idea of a man, who from an eminence
beyond the region of fogs and clouds and
meteors, has surveyed whatever is above and
beneath, things in heaven and things upon
the earth, with a vast advantage for rating
justly the value of the one and of the other.
He seems to have lately come down from
conversing with God upon the mount, anoint-
ed and pre-eminently qualified to represent
the high priest of the Christian temple; to
draw aside the outward veil, and to disclose
the glorious spirit of religion in its innermost
Sanctuary.
7
50
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
It is impossible to dip into his writings,
without observing with how brilliant a fancy
he was endowed. They sparkle with beauti-
ful images, which either are drawn from the
magazines of scripture; or are such as would
naturally present themselves to an inventive
and elegant mind, furnished, as Leighton's
was, with the literary products of every clime
and age, and with the accumulated stores of
civil and ecclesiastical erudition; and intent
upon making whatever it has collected sub-
servient to the illustration of divine truth.
By his holy skill sacred learning is made to
purify profane, and profane learning to eluci-
date and embellish sacred. The gold and silver
of Egypt are moulded into vessels for the
tabernacle of Jehovah; while the living waters
of the sanctuary are taught to meander through
fields of classic lore, imparting to their produce
celestial fragrancy and virtue.
Among the just commendations of this great
and good man's writings, we must not omit
their extraordinary decency, resulting, no
doubt, from singular purity of mind, and the
more worthy of note from its being foreign to
the school in which he had been educated.
No coarse, indelicate metaphor, the offspring
of a gross imagination, ever Sullies his pages;
and if it fall in his way to handle subjects
which bring into view the grosser passions
and appetites, of our nature, he spreads over
their unseemliness such a veil of chastity, that
nothing appears to draw a frown from the
austerest gravity, or to put the most suscep-
tible modesty to the blush.
Archbishop Leighton will hardly rank in
the foremost line of philologists and theologi-
cal critics. Yet, in general, he is a safe guide
in the exposition of particular texts; and if
sometimes he mistake the precise sense of
the passage he discusses, still his improve-
ment of it is so orthodox and pious, that one
might be tempted to think that it is better to
err with Leighton than to go right with the
rest of mankind. He had carefully perused
the original text of both the Old and the New
Testament; and by a sober application of
etymological analysis, he frequently throws
light on obscure sentences of the sacred
volume. From the Fathers also, of whom
he was a diligent, student, as the pen-marked
copies of their works in his library testify, he
drew many beautiful sentiments, which are
interspersed in his own lucubrations; the
whole of which have a strong savor of primi-
tive spirituality. But that which adds so
peculiar a zest to his compositions, is the
quality usually denominated Unction. His
mouth spake out of the abundance of his
heart. Instead of a dry didactic statement,
which, how faultless soever in doctrine and
form, will seldom beget sympathy, we have
in him the libation upon the sacrifice,—the
holy affections of his soul poured out on the
solid products of his understanding, and im-
parting to them a delicious odor and irresisti-
ble penetrancy. In every page of his books
there is an impassioned earnestness, a soul-
subduing pathos, which make it impossible
to doubt, that the impressions he strives to
communicate are deeply engraven on his
spirit. Indeed he does not seem so much to
appeal to his readers, as unconsciously to let
them into the chamber of his own soul, on
which they may see the gospel traced in its
native lineaments: and may recognise the
loveliness of divine truth in the most perfect
union, of which it is capable, with the heart
º understanding of a frail and fallible mor-
tal.
Some allusion has been dropped in this me-
moir to his excellence in the pulpit. Burnet,
in eulogizing his preaching, pronounces it
“rather too fine ;” and it did undoubtedly
soar above the flight of ordinary minds, or it
might rather be said of minds not elevated
by habits of divine contemplation. It was
surprisingly free from the quaint and sectarian
jargon of º day, as will be seen by compar-
ing his printed discourses with those precious
morsels, which are embalmed in a work, that
came out shortly after the Revolution, and is
entitled “Scotch Presbyterian Eloquence
Displayed.” In the sermons of Leighton
there is nothing puerile, low, or ludicrous;
no fantastic conceits and impertinent pleas-
antries; no wild interpretations of scripture
and bombastic rhapsodies; no desultory and
pedantic excursions. He scorned to set off
his matter, or scrupled to profane it, with a
tawdry dress and garish colors. His phrase-
ology, at once sedate and noble, well becomes
the ambassador of heaven ; and denotes a
profound veneration for the oracles of God,
a pious dread of distorting their sense, and
giving a human figure and color to any por-
tion of revelation, and an ardent desire to
convert thoughtless sinners, and to edify
serious believers. Such were his matter and
diction, with which his manner in the pulpit
comported. Superior to popular applause, he
had no peculiarities about his delivery : unless
indeed simplicity, earnestness, and gravity,
were at that time uncommon qualities. He
never aimed at effect by oratorical grimace,
nor strove, as was much the practice, to carry
his hearers by a tempest of voice and gesture;
and indeed the natural feebleness of his voice
would have interdicted such exertions, had
his taste permitted them. But, when he
preached, the manner was in admirable har-
mony with the message; and so well did the
majesty and beauty of his enunciation accord
with the solemn truths of which he was the
herald, that the congregations he addressed
were subdued and enchained, as if by the
magic of an unearthy eloquence.
The work, which is the crown of his pos-
thumous glory in the universal church, is the
Commentary on the First Epistle of St. Pe-
ter. It is a treasury of sound experimental
divinity; and argues an extraordinary ripe-
ness of Christian attainments. It was prob-
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
51
ably delivered from the pulpit, and is drawn
out in the familiar form of exposition : the
clauses, and sometimes the emphatic words,
of each text being ordinarily explained in
course, and no artificial arrangement observed
in discussing the several subjects introduced
by the apostle. Still, the general scope and
coherence of each passage are carefully kept
in view ; and the main truth, asserted or
proved, is never lost sight of, in unfolding the
particular propositions from which it is
educed. This work will always class among
the first of uninspired scriptures; and can
never cease to constitute the admiration and
delight of the Christian and the scholar.
Hinc lucem haurire est, et pocula sacra.
Next in worth to this commentary are his
expositions of “The Creed,” “The Lord's
Prayer,” and “The Ten Commandments;”
which seem to have been carefully pondered,
and are of equal account as summaries of
exegetical and of practical divinity. The
fragment of a commentary not long brought
to light, on the first eight chapters and part
of the ninth of St. Matthew’s gospel, has
touches of his fine genius, and is imbued
with his heavenly spirit: but it is decidedly
inferior to that on the first epistle of Peter.
It consists of little more than notes, with
which he probably assisted his memory in
preaching to rustic auditories, and wherein
he contracts the natural size of his intellect
to the puny proportions of babes. His medi-
tations critical and practical on Psalms iv.,
xxxii., and cxxx., translated from the origi-
nal Latin under the inspection of Dr. Dod-
dridge; and his Expository lectures on Psalm
xxxix., and on one or two other portions of
Scripture, have the flavor of the parent soil,
but demand no particular comment. They
are sketches only, but, like the line of the
painter, they betray a master-hand. The
meditations, which were spoken in Latin to
the Edinburgh collegians, are felicitous es-
says, glistening with holy animation, and are
more classically adorned than the expository
lectures: not, however, in a degree to unfit
them for the closet of unlettered devotion.
On his Rules and Instructions for a Holy
Life, which are comprised in a few pages,
some strictures are necessary. It is impossi-
ble to read them without conceiving a great
opinion of the sanctity of the mind from
which they issued. They are the rules by
which his own life were fashioned, and do
not, I believe, delineate a perfection much
exceeding his actual attainments. Yet they
need to be read with caution, being some-
what tinged with mysticism—a disease al-
most peculiar to those who inhabit the high-
est regions, and breathe the purest atmo-
sphere of devotion. The religion of this
manual is doubtless the religion of the Bible ;
but then it is pushed into abstractions, in the
pursuit of which an ordinary mind would be
embarrassed and utterly discouraged ;-ab-
stractions which go beyond what the method
of Christ and his apostles authorizes, or is
compatible with the constitution of our na-
ture, and the frame of Society resulting from
that constitution, It is one incomparable ex-
cellence of this religion of Jesus Christ, that
it does not stand aloof, and call those who
would embrace it into wilds and solitudes;
but it enters our habitations, eating and drink-
ing, in the form and with the affections of
our nature; it mingles its pure and peace-
ful and benignant influences with all the va-
rious commerce of life ; and it converts man
to holiness, without displacing him from his
roper sphere, or disturbing any of those re-
ations which arise out of his civil and do-
mestic condition. Leighton has not in these
particulars followed so closely, as might have
been wished, in the track of the great Au-
thor of Christianity. Perhaps it is the ex-
clusive prerogative of a wisdom, calm and
comprehensive as God’s, to exhibit a system,
which shall raise debased man to the highest
perfection of which he is capable, without de-
ranging the order and economy of the pres-
ent world. When good men, even with the
Bible before them, set themselves to draw
out rules for the conduct of the soul, they are
apt to overstep the simplicity and wise re-
serve of scripture; and, by too minute aud per-
emptory an application of principles, which
the blessed Jesus, with exemplary tender-
ness and prudence, left it to each individual
to apply, they often bring a Snare upon the
conscience, relax altogether the tottering
knees, and lead ardent or melancholy spirits
into dangerous subtleties. I must own my-
self suspicious of the consequences of en-
hancing upon Scripture, and of constructing
a model, which at first sight strikes the eye,
as being something more lofty and spiritual
than is set forth in the sacred records. To
aim at gratuitous refinements in spirituality
requires the control of a very sober judgment
and a deep humility, to prevent its being in-
jurious to sound religious practice ; for there
is danger of the substance of Christian piety
flying off under too intense a process of subli-
mation. When men, instead of diligently
forming themselves to that plain and palpa-
ble goodness, which it is the drift of the gos-
pel to inculcate, aspire to something Super-
human and angelical, there is reason to fear
lest they rest satisfied with the attempt,
though it be unprosperous. Conscience will
not approach them for failing in those extra-
ordinary efforts, which few have the courage
to make, as it would if they came short of
the ordinary proficiency of Christians ; and,
possibly, in striving to sustain themselves in
regions too rare for human piety, and in cha-
sing a chimerical perfection, they may waste
that energy which, more humbly directed,
would have made them approved of God and
useful to mankind. When Christians attain,
indeed, to this height of holiness, they be-
come transcendent luminaries, peerless stars
of the morning, who invigorate and gladden
52
THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTC.N.
that lower body of the church, round which
they revolve in their superior orbit. Be it far
from me and from any Christian to depreciate
such aims and such attainments. For our
author's vindication it is fully sufficient, that
the Directory” in question exhibits the scope
of his own divine ambition, and not the stand-
ard by which he measured others. A ma-
ture and intelligent Christian may at any time
read it with advantage; and to those who
are satisfied with a religion of form and cere-
mony it may also be serviceable, by acquaint-
ing them with the tremendous secret, that
they are strangers to the reality and power of
godliness. But it would be unwise and un-
safe to place it in the hands of novices, sin-
cere but feeble converts, lest they should be
utterly disheartened, and their pious aspira-
tions be smothered in despair. Whoever is
conversant with the “ Imitation of Jesus
Christ,” that beautiful manual of devotion,
which is popularly ascribed to Thomas à
Kempis, will recognise, in the “Rules and
Instructions for a Holy Life,” much of the
same spirit, and the same extreme ideas of
self-exinanition and total absorption in God.
Of both it must be confessed—as Pope Inno-
cent XII. observed of Fenelon, to whom
Leighton bore no slight resemblance in the
qualities of the mind and heart—that if they
erred, it was through an exuberant love of
God, earcessu amoris Dei. It was the vehe-
mence of their piety which hurried away
their judgment; and the uncommon mistake
of stating Christian perfection too high is be-
yond all dispute less momentous, than the
usual error of sinking it below the scriptural
standard.
In the Latin Prelections, which have been
translated by Dr. Fall, the principal doctrines
of the Christian faith are developed by our
Author with exquisite learning, judgment,
and piety. These lectures constitute a valu-
able series of theological instructions; and
were probably delivered pretty much in the
order in which they are now arranged. After
showing that happiness, of which so strong a
desire is implanted in the human breast, is
not to be drawn from earthly fountains, he
proves that an immortal nature must fetch
its joys from immortal sources. Hence he is
led to treat of the existence, the nature, the
government of God, which he does with
equal energy and sobriety; demonstrating
the title such a Being possesses to the affec-
tionate allegiance of his rational creatures,
whose felicity must depend on their main-
taining that place in the moral system of the
universe, wherein the wise economy of the
Creator hath fixed them. He then represents
the extensive ruin that ensued from the de-
fection of Adam ; and goes on to the repara-
* It ought perhaps to be mentioned that the genu-
ineness of this Directory has been suspected: but I
would venture to suggest that the impress it bears of
the spirit and style of Leighton demonstrably at-
tests its legitimacy,
tion achieved by Messiah, of the injury done
to God by the primal sin, and of the destruc-
tion it brought upon mankind. The nature
of Christian salvation is further developed,
as consisting in the engrafting of vital and
immortal principles in the soul by the myste-
rious energy of the Holy Spirit; which pro-
cess constitutes the true adoption of sinners
through the Savior, and is their temporal in-
itiation to the enjoyment of life eternal.
Moreover he expatiates, with great beauty
and emphasis, on the happiness of a life
regulated by the fear of God and by the rules
of the gospel ; and he exhorts the students
to put forth all their ardor in prosecuting that
divine science, which lays open the passage
to imperishable glory.
The style of these lectures justifies Bur-
net's commendation of our Author's latinity.
Not formed upon any one particular pattern,
but pure, simple, and flowing, his diction in-
dicates a large and critical acquaintance with
the best model. It is the phraseology of a
man who thought in Latin, and not of one
who clothed in a foreign dress ideas which
were pre-conceived in his native tongue.
Hence these dissertations are not mere jingle
and glitter, but are solid and argumentative.
Useless words and phrases are never in-
troduced to embellish a period ; nor does an
apt thought ever seem to be abandoned too
soon, or imperfectly evolved, from the writer
being at a difficulty how to imbody it in a
strange language. He moves in Roman ar-
mor with as little embarrassment as in a na-
tive garb. In these lectures, moreover, which
were addressed to literary students, Leighton
permits himself to quote largely from hea-
then authors; and one is struck with amaze-
ment at the extent of his erudition, which is
not ostentatiously exposed, but comes in
most appropriately wherever it can avail to
throw light upon the subjects he is treating.
The whole volume of profane literature
seems to be unrolled before him, and is not
too expanded for his ample survey. The
philosophers, the poets, the historians of
Rome and Athens; all the sons of science,
whether Jews or Gentiles, ancient or mod-
erm ; all are cited to pay the various homage,
enjoined º natural reason or primeval tra-
dition, to the being, the perfections, the nat-
ural and moral government of God ; and to
confirm the need of a revelation, which
should capacitate mankind to recover, under
a new grant and title, the honors, possessions,
and immunities forfeited by disobedience.
The Paraeneses were short exhortations to
the scholars about to graduate, and were
composed in Latin. In them it is the speak-
er's great endeavor to guard his auditors
against an overweening estimate of human
learning and literary honors, and to incite
them to strive after that genuine theosophy,
which consists in a knowledge of God as he
reveals himself to mankind in the Gospel.
Each of these hortatory addresses concludes
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
53
with a beautiful and appropriate prayer; and
they, as well as the lectures, breathe an af-
fectionate desire to turn the hearts of the
collegians from that vain knowledge which
increaseth sorrow, to that true and heavenly
wisdom by which all who possess it are ex-
alted to honor.
Dr. Fall, and not Bishop Burnet, as has
been erroneously asserted, was the original
editor of Leighton’s works. The first of
them which saw the light, was a volume of
eighteen sermons, printed in London, 1692,
expressly stated to be copied “from his pa-
pers written with his own hand.” It is ac-
companied with a preface by the Editor, of
which the following is an extract: “To the
pious and devout reader. The Discourses,
here published, are but a small taste of a
great many more, that were written by the
same most reverend author. A judgment
will be made from the reception these meet
with, concerning the publishing other dis-
courses by the same pen. His composures
in Latin (which appear to have been written
and delivered when he was principal of the
College of Edinburgh) are also transcribing
for the press, and may in a convenient time
see the light, for they need not fear it.”
Accordingly, in 1693, his Praelectiones Theo-
logical came out in quarto, with a preface in
the same language, by Dr. Fall, printed in
London. The next portion of his works,
produced to the public, seems to have been
the “Commentary on Peter,” Wol. I., 4to.
York, 1693. In an advertisement prefixed to
this volume, Dr. Fall alludes to the favor-
able reception of his former works. The
second volume of this Commentary was pub-
Hished, London, 1694; and in the preface,
Dr. Fall mentions that he has still in his
hands some brief discourses by Leighton on
the Epistle to the Ephesians, and also his
expositions of the Decalogue, the Creed, and
the Lord's Prayer, which might hereafter be
printed. These, except the discources on
the Epistles to the Ephesians, came out,
Lond. 1701, 8vo., together with his two dis-
courses, one on St. Matthew xxii. 37, 38, 39 ;
the other on Heb. viii. 10: to which was
annexed a short catechism. There was also
published a volume of “Tracts,” 12 mo.
London, 1708; which comprised the Rules
for a Holy Life, one Sermon, and the Cate-
chism. The later editions of his works are
sufficiently known.
It may gratify some readers to have the
will of Archbishop Leighton, and some par-
ticulars of the disposition of his property
subjoined, along with the most probable ac-
count of his ecclesiastical income. The fol-
lowing is the will:—
At Broadhurst, Feb. 17, 1683.
Being at present (thanks be to God) in my
accustomed health of body and soundness of
mind and memory, I do write this with my
own hand, to signify, that when the day I so
much wished and longed for is come, that
shall set me free of this prison of clay wherein
I am lodged, what I leave behind me of mon-
ey, goods, or chattels, or whatsoever of any
kind was called mine, I do devote to char-
itable uses; partly such as I have recom-
mended particularly to my sister Mrs. Sap-
phira Lightmaker, and her son Master Ed-
Ward Lightmaker of Broadhurst, and the re-
mainder to such other charities as their own
discretion shall think fittest. Only I desire
each of them to accept of a small token of
a little grateful acknowledgment of their
great kindness, and trouble they have had
with me for some years that I was their
guest, the proportion whereof (to remove
their scruple of taking it) I did expressly
name to themselves, while I was with them,
before the writing hereof, and likewise after
I have wrote it. But they need not give any
account of it to any other, the whole being
left to their disposal. Neither I hope will
any other friends or relations of mine take it
unkind, that I bequeath no legacy to any of
them, designing, as is said, so entirely to
charity the whole remains. Only my books
I leave and bequeath to the Cathedral of
Dunblane in Scotland, to remain there for
the use of the clergy of that diocess. I think
I need no more, but that I appoint my said
sister, Mrs. Sapphira Lightmaker of Broad-
hurst, and her son, Mr. Edward Lightmaker
of Broadhurst, joint executors of this my
will,—if they be both living at my decease,
as I hope they shall ; or if that one of them
shall be surviving, that one is to be the sole
executor of it. I hope none will raise any
question or doubt about this upon any omis-
sion or informality of expression in it; being
for prevention thereof as plainly expressed
as it could be conceived by me. And this I
declare to be the last will and testament of
RoBERT LEIGHTON.
We have already had occasion to observe,
that his expenditure upon himself was fru-
gal almost to parsimony, but from this fru-
gality no accumulation resulted. One great
object of his self-denial was to provide funds
for the dissemination of sound religious learn-
ing. Accordingly, when principal of the
University of Edinburgh, he presented that
city with 150l. sterling for the support of a
bursary or scholarship in philosophy. Glas-
gow also is indebted to this venerable man
for two bursaries, which are destined to as-
sist in the maintenance of two students, for
the space of six years; the first four to be
spent in philosophical pursuits, and the last
two in the study of divinity: and should the
student not be otherwise provided for, or
wish to continue his theological studies, the
magistrates and council are authorized to
prolong his tenure of the studentship, for
two or three additional years. In the elec-
tion of scholars, the trustees are not limited
to any particular description of persons; but
54
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
they are required to present two candidates,
when a bursary has become vacant, for a
trial of their comparative merits; and the
one reported by the examiners to be the best
qualified, is to receive a presentation from
the officers of the town. The annual value
of each bursary is 91, sterling. In one of the
deeds which conferred this benefit on indi-
gent students, 150l. was devised to the hos-
pital of St. Nicholas in Glasgow, for two
poor men of good report. Three paupers are
now enjoying the benefit of this legacy; which
produces 41.10s. annually for each pensioner.
To the diocess of Dunblane, which was ill
provided with books, he bequeathed his val-
uable library; and after his removal thence,
he made over for the benefit of the poor a
considerable sum of money, due to him from
a gentleman of that place, which money was
afterward paid, and appropriated agreeably
to the intentions of the benefactor.
It is not easy to ascertain the precise
amount of his income, when he was Bishop
of Dunblane. Most likely the revenues of
the see, together with the salary accruing
from the Chapel Royal at Stirling, of which
the diocesan of Dunblane was Dean by right
of office, did not exceed 2001. That bishopric
was the poorest in Scotland, except those of
Caithness and Argyle. Shortly after the
Reformation, its rental was taken at 3131.
per annum, in money, besides a stated allow-
ance of grain: but then there were several
livings annexed to it. In the valuation book
of Aberdeenshire, the Bishop of Dunblane is
styled parson of Monimusk, the reason of
which is, that, at Monimusk, there was for-
merly a priory, the proceeds of which were
assigned by James the Sixth, in 1617, to the
see of Dunblane. It was this prince who
augmented it with the deanery of the royal
chapel, which was considerably lucrative;
and he superadded the abbey of Cross-raguel
in Ayrshire.
If all these golden rivulets poured into
Dunblane, when Leighton was its diocesan,
he would be sufficiently opulent. But it is
more than probable, that several of them
were dried up, or intercepted, and that only
a small, proportion of the nominal rental
flowed into the episcopal reservoir. This
proportion would be further diminished by
the excessive indulgence, with which he
always listened to defaulters, who pleaded
poverty in excuse for not making good their
payments.
TWO LETTERS COMMONLY REPUTED TO HAVE BEEN WRITTEN BY THE
BISHOP OF DUNBLANE.
LETTER I.
SIR : In the late conference I had with
your friend, the sum of what I said was this:
1. That episcopal government, managed
in conjunction with presbyters in presbyte-
ries and synods, is not contrary either to the
rule of Scripture, or the example of the prim-
itive church, but most agreeable to both.
2. Yea, it is not contrary to that very cov-
enant, which is pretended by so many as the
main, if not the only reason of their scru-
pling ; and for their sakes it is necessary to
add this. For notwithstanding the many
irregularities both in the matter and form of
that covenant, and the illegal and violent
ways of pressing and prosecuting of it, yet
to them who remain under the conscience of
its full force and obligation, and in that seem
invincibly persuaded, it is certainly most
pertinent, if it it be true, to declare the con-
sistence of the even present government with
that obligation. And as both these asser-
tions, I believe, upon the exactest (if impar-
tial and impassionate) inquiry, will be found
to be in themselves true; so they are owned
by the generality of the presbyterians in
England; as themselves have published their
opinion in print under this title, Two Papers
of proposals humbly presented to his Majesty
by the Reverend Ministers of the Presbyte-
rian Persuasion, Printed at London, Anno
1660.
Besides other passages in these papers to
the same purpose, at pages 11 and 12, are
these words; “And as these are our general
ends and motives, so we are induced to insist
upon the form of a synodical government,
conjunct with a fixed presidency; for these
Te2SODS :
1. “We have reason to believe that no
other terms will be so generally agreed on, &c.
2. “It being agreeable to the Scripture
and primitive government, is likeliest to be
the way of a more universal concord, if ever
the churches on earth arrive at such a bles-
sing; however it will be most acceptable to
God, and well-informed consciences.
3. “It will promote the practice of disci-
pline and godliness without disorder, and pro-
mote order without hindering discipline and
godliness.
4. “And it is not to be silenced (though in
some respects we are loath to mention it) that
it will save the nation from the violation of
their solemn vow and covenant, without
wronging the church at all, or breaking any
other oath,” &c. And a little after they add,
THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
55
that the prelacy disclaimed in that covenant
was, the engrossing of the sole power of or-
dination and jurisdiction, and exercising of
the whole discipline absolutely by bishops
themselves, and their delegates, chancellors,
surrogates, and officials, &c., excluding whol-
ly the pastors of particular churches from all
share in it. And there is one of prime note
among them, who, in a large treatise of
church-government, doth clearly evince, that
this was the mind both of the parliament of
England, and of the assembly of Divines at
Westminister, as they themselves did ex-
pressly declare it, in the admitting of the cov-
emant, “that they understand it not to be
against all episcopacy, but only against the
particular frame, as it is worded in the arti-
cle itself: for our principal model in Eng-
land, and the way of managing of it, what-
soever is amiss (and it can be no wrong to
make that supposition concerning any church
on earth) or whatsoever they apprehend to
be amiss, though it may be upon mistake, the
brethren that are dissatisfied had possibly
better acquitted their duty by free admoni-
tions and significations of their own sense in
all things, than by leaving of their station,
which is the one thing that hath made the
breach (I fear) very hard to cure, and in hu-
man appearance near to incurable: but there
is much charity due to them, as following
the dictates of their own conscience : and
they owe, and I hope, pay the same back
again to those that do the same in another
way : and whatsoever may be the readiest
and happiest way of reuniting those that are
mutually so minded, the Lord reveal it to
them in due time.” This one word I shall
add, that this difference should arise to so
great a height, may seem somewhat strange
to any man that calmly considers, that there
is in this church no change at all, neither in
the doctrine nor worship, no nor in the sub-
stance of the discipline itself: but when it
falls on matters easily inflammable, how lit-
tle a spark, how great a fire will kindle 2
Because every one hath not the book, I
have transcribed here Mr. Baxter's own
words. Baw. of Church Government, P. III.,
c. i., p. 276:—
“An Episcopacy desirable for the reforma-
tion and peace of the churches. A fixed pres-
ident durante vité, pp. 297, 330. But some
will say, we are engaged against all prelacy
by covenant, and therefore can not yield to so
much as you do without perjury. Ans. That
this is utterly untrue, I thus demonstrate:—
1. “When that covenant was presented to
the assembly with the bare name of prelacy
#. to popery, many grave and reverend
ivines desired that the word prelacy might
be explained, because it was not all episco-
pacy they were against, and thereupon the
following concatenation in the parenthe-
sis was given by way of explication in these
words: That is church-government by arch-
bishops, bishops, their chancellors and com-
missaries, deans and chapters, archdeans, and
all the other ecclesiastical officers depending
on that hierarchy. By which it appears that
it was only the English hierarchy, or frame,
that was covenanted against, and that which
was then existent that was taken down.
2. “When the House of Lords took the
covenant, Mr. Thomas Coleman, that gave
it them, did so explain it, and profess that
it was not their intent to covenant against
all episcopacy, and upon this explication it
was taken ; and certainly the parliament was
most capable of giving the due sense of it,
because it was they that did impose it.
3. “And it could not be all episcopacy that
was excluded, because a parochial episcopa-
cy was at the same time used and approved
commonly here in England.
4. “And in Scotland they had used the
help of visiters for the reformation of their
churches, committing the care of a country
or circuit to some one man, which was as
high a sort of episcopacy, at least as any I
am pleading for. Besides they that had mod-
erators in all their synods, which were tem-
porary bishops.
5. “Also the chief divines of the late as-
sembly at Westminister, that recommended
that covenant to the nations, have professed
their own judgments for such a moderate
episcopacy as I am here defending, and there-
fore never intended the exclusion of this by
covenant.”
After he adds, “As we have prelacy to
beware of, so we have the contrary extreme
to avoid, and the church's peace (if it may
be) to procure ; and as we must not take
down the ministry, lest it prepare men for
episcopacy, so neither must we be against
any profitable exercise of the ministry, or de-
sirable order among them, for fear of intro-
ducing prelacy.” Thus far Baxter's own
words.
There is another that hath writ a treatise
on purpose, and that zealous and strict
enough, touching the obligation of the league
and covenant, under the name of Theophilus
Timorcus. And yet therein it is expressly
asserted, that “however, at first, it might
appear that the parliament had renounced
all episcopacy, yet upon stricter inquiry, it
was evident to the author, that that very
scruple was made by some members in par-
liament, and resolved (with the consent of
their brethren in Scotland) that the cove-
nant was only intended against prelacy as
then it was in being in England, leaving a
latitude for episcopacy,” &c.
It would be noted that when that cove-
nant was framed, there was no episcopacy at
all in being in Scotland, but in England only;
so that the extirpation of that frame only
could then be meant and intended. Likewise
it would be considered, that though there is
in Scotland at present the name of dean, and
chapter, and commissaries, yet that none of
those at all do exercise any part of the dis-
56
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
cipline under that name, neither any other,
as chancellor or surrogate, &c., by delega-
tion from bishops, with a total exclusion of
the community of presbyters from all power
and share in it, which is the great point of
difference betwixt that model and this with
us, and imports so much as to the main of
discipline. I do not deny that the generality
of the people, yea even of ministers in Scot-
land, when they took the covenant, might
likewise understand that article as against
all episcopacy whatsoever, even the most
moderate, especially if it should be restored
under the express name of bishops and arch-
bishops; never considering how different the
nature, and model, and way of exercising it
may be, though under the same names, and
that the due regulating of the thing is much
more to be regarded than either the retain-
ing or altering of the name. But though
they did not then consider any such thing,
yet certainly it concerns them now to con-
sider it, when it is represented to them, that
not only the words of the oath itself do very
genuinely consist with such a qualified and
distinctive sense, but that the very compo-
sers or imposers of it, or a considerable part
of them, did so understand and intend it.
And unless they make it appear that the
episcopacy now in question with us in Scot-
land is either contrary to the word, or to that
mitigated sense of their own oath, it would
seem more suitable to Christian charity and
moderation, rather to yield to it as tolerable,
at least, than to continue so inflexibly fast to
their first mistakes and excessive zeal, as for
love of it to divide from their church, and
break the bond of peace.
It may likewise be granted, that some
learned men in England, who refused to take
the covenant, did possibly except against
that article of it, as signifying the total re-
nunciation and abolition of all episcopacy;
and seeing that was the real event and con-
sequent of it, and they having many other
strong and weighty reasons for refusing it, it
is no wonder that they were little curious to
inquire what passed amongst the contrivers
of it, and what distinction or different senses
either the words of that article might admit,
or those contrivers might intend by them.
And the truth is, that besides many other
evils, the iniquity and unhappiness of such
oaths and covenants lie much in this, that
being commonly framed by persons that,
even among themselves, are not fully of one
mind, but have their different opinions and
interests to serve (and it was so even in this,)
they are commonly patched up of so many
several articles and clauses, and those too of
so versatile and ambiguous terms, that they
prove most wretched Snares, thickets of bri-
ers and thorns to the consciences of those
that are engaged in them, and matters of
endless contentions and disputes among them
about the true sense and intendment, and the
tie and obligements of those doubtful clau-
ses, especially in some such alterations and
revolutions of affairs as always may, and
often do, even within few years follow after
them ; for the models and productions of such
devices are not usually long-lived. And
whatsoever may be said for their excuse in
whole or in part, who, in yieldance to the
power that pressed it, and the general opin-
ion of this church at that time, did take that
covenant in the most moderate and least
schismatical sense that the terms can admit;
yet, I know not what can be said to clear
them of a very great sin, that not only fram-
ed such an engine, but violently imposed it
upon all ranks of men, not ministers and
other public persons only, but the whole body
and community of the people, thereby en-
gaging such droves of poor ignorant persons,
to they know not what, and, to speak freely,
to such a hodge-podge of various concern-
ments, religious and civil, as church disci-
pline and government, the privileges of par-
liament and liberties of subjects, and con-
dign punishment of malignants, things hard
enough for the wisest and learnedest to draw
the just lines of, and to give plain definitions
and decisions of them, and therefore cer-
tainly as far off from the reach of poor coun-
try people's understanding, as from the true
interests of their souls; and yet to tie them
by a religious and sacred oath either to know
all these, or to contend for them blindfold
without knowing them, can.there be instan-
ced a greater oppression and tyranny Over
consciences than this 2 Certainly they that
now govern in this church can not be charg-
ed with anything near or like unto it; for
whatsoever they require of intrants to the
ministry, they require neither subscriptions
nor oaths of ministers already entered, and
far less of the whole body of the people;
and it were ingenuously done to take some
notice of any point of moderation, or what-
soever else is really commendable even in
those we account our greatest enemies, and
not to take any part in the world for the ab-
solute standard and unfailing rule of truth
and righteousness in all things.
But oh, who would not long for the shad-
ows of the evening, and to be at rest from
all these poor childish trifling contests
P. S. Whatsoever was the occasion of
copying out the passages cited in this paper,
and of adding these few thoughts that then
occurred touching that subject, I would have
neither of them understood as intended any
way to reflect upon or judge other churches
where this government is otherwise exer-
cised ; but what is here said is only argu-
mentum ad hominem, and particularly adapted
to the persons, and notions, and scruples we
have to do withal in this church. And
though this is designed to come to very few
hands, yet I wish that what is here repre-
sented were by some better way brought to
the notice of such as know least of it and
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
57
f
need it most, that, if it be possible, their ex-
treme fervor might be somewhat allayed by
this consideration, that this very form of
government, which is so hateful to them, is
by the presbyterians of the neighbor king-
dom accounted a thing, not only tolerable,
but desirable : and I might add, that upon
due inquiry, the reformed churches abroad
will be found in a great part much of the
same opinion ; yea, I am not afraid to say
yet further, that I think there is good reason
to believe, that it were not only lawful for
these that now govern in this church, but if
prejudice hindered not, might prove expe-
dient and useful for the good of the church
itself, that they did use in some instances a
little more authority than they do, and yet
might still be very far off from proud and
tyrannical domination, never applying their
power to obstruct what is good, but to ad-
vance it, and not at all against the truth, but
always for it, and while they do so, the athe-
ism and profaneness that abounds can not
reasonably be imputed to the nature of the
government, as too commonly it is by some,
but rather to the schism that is made by
withdrawing and dividing from it; for there
is not a greater enemy in the world to the
power of religion than the wranglings and
butter contentions, that are caused about the
external forms of it. Eigilvn biXm, eipävn p(\m,
Öröre finis KaréAtres, as Nazianzen pathetically
begins one of his orations for peace. I con-
fess I have sometimes wondered to see some
Wise and good men, after all that can be
said to them, make so great reckoning of
certain metaphysical exceptions against some
little words and formalities of difference in
the government, and set so little value upon
So great a thing as is the peace of the church.
Oh, when shall the loud and harsh noises of
Our debates be turned to the sweeter sound
of united prayers for this blessed peace, that
we might cry with one heart and voice to
the God of peace, who alone can give it,
Pacem te poscimus omnes : and if we be real
supplicants for it, we would beware of being
the disappointers of our own desires, and of
obstructing the blessing we pray for, and
therefore would mainly study a temper re-
ceptive of it, and that is, great meekness
and charity; and certainly whatsoever party
or opinion we follow in this matter, the badge
by which we must be known to the follow-
ers of Jesus Christ is this, that we love one
another, and that law unquestionably is of
divine right, and therefore would not be bro-
ken by bitter passion and revilings, and root-
ed hatreds one against another, for things
about which the right is in dispute betwixt
us; and however that be, are we Christians?
Then doubtless the things wherein we agree
are incomparably greater than these wherein
we disagree, and therefore in all reason
should be more powerful to unite us, than the
other to divide us. But to restrain myself,
and stop here, if we love both our own and
the church's peace, there be two things I
conceive we should most carefully avoid, the
bestowing too great zeal upon small things,
and too much confidence of opinion upon
doubtful things: it is a mad thing to rush on
hard and boldly in the dark, and we all know
what kind of person it is of whom Solomon
says, That he rages and is confident.
LETTER II.
SIR : The question betwixt us, is not con-
cerning bishops governing absolutely by
themselves and their delegates, but concern-
ing bishops governing in conjunction with
presbyters in presbyteries and synods; of
which we affirm, that it is neither contrary
to the Scriptures, nor the example of the
primitive church, but most agreeable to both :
if any think otherwise, let them produce their
evidences of Scripture and antiquity. If
they say, it is not enough to make such a
form lawful, that it is not contrary to Scrip-
ture, but there ought to be an express com-
mand or rule in Scripture to warrant it, they
will sure be so just, as to be subject to the
same law themselves. Let them then pro-
duce such an express command or rule for
their own model of kirk-sessions, presbyte-
ries, synods provincial and national, and a
commission of the kirk in their several de-
pendancies and subordinations for the ordi-
nary and constant government and exercise
of discipline in the church, and the neces-
sary changing of the moderators in these
meetings, excepting only that of the kirk-
session, wherein the minister is constantly to
moderate; for without such an express rule
as this, a bishop or fixed president may very
well consist with that whole frame they con-
tend for ; and it is really and actually so at
this present in this church, and they stand
so much the rather obliged to bring a clear
command for these judicatories, and their
subordinations, because they affirm them to
be of unquestionable divine right, and the
very kingdom of Christ upon earth, and the
only lawful and absolutely necessary govern-
ment of the Christian church, whereas the
asserters of other forms do not usually speak
so big. If they shall say, they are not against
a fixed president or bishop, or call him what
you will (for to contest about names, espe-
cially in so grave a matter, is trivial and
childish), but that the question is about their
power, then we beg that it may be so. Let
that be all the question betwixt us, and then
we hope the controversy will be quickly end-
ed; for we trust we shall be found not at all
desirous to usurp or effect any undue power,
but rather to abate of that power which is
reasonable, and to conform even to primitive
episcopacy, than that a schism should con-
58
THE LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
tinue in this church upon that score. But be
it supposed, that bishops do stretch their
power somewhat beyond their line, let all
the world judge, whether ministers are for
that engaged to leave their station and with-
draw from those meetings of the church,
which themselves approve of, for the exer-
cise of discipline, yea and (as many of them
have done) to separate from the public wor-
ship, and whole communion of the church,
because of some degree of wrong done them
(as they think in that point of power), or
whether they had not sufficiently acquitted
themselves, and discharged their consciences
by free declaring of their opinion concerning
that matter, and modestly desiring the re-
dress of it; and º waiting for it,
though it be not presently redressed, and
continuing in the performance of their own
duty to their power, though others above them
or about them, do transgress theirs, or seem at
least to them to do so; otherwise, if we think
ourselves obliged for everything that is, or
that we judge, faulty in other persons, or in
the frame of things, to relinquish either the
communion of it, or our station in it, what will
there be but endless swarms of separations
and divisions in any church under the sun ?
But there is one thing in this business of
ours that sticks after all the rest: the cove-
nant. As to that, waiving all the irregular-
ities of it, though so many and so great, that,
in the judgment of divers, both wise and
good men, they seem to annul the obligation
of it, suppose it still to bind all that took it,
and suppose likewise, that the present epis-
copacy in this church is that same that was
abjured in that covenant; yet the article re-
lating thereto obliges each one only to this,
to endeavor within their calling and station,
if such an episcopacy shall be introduced and
continued against their will. But the truth
is, if men would have the patience to inquire
into it, and consider the thing without preju-
dice and partiality, this our episcopacy will
be found not to be the same with that abjur-
ed in that covenant ; for that is the govern-
ment of bishops and archbishops absolutely
by themselves and their delegates, chancel-
lors, archdeacons, officials, &c., as it is ex-
pressed in the very words of the article, and
was on purpose so expressed, to difference
that frame from other forms of episcopacy,
and particularly from that which is exercised
by bishops jointly with presbyters in presby-
teries and synods, and that is it which is now
used in this church. And that the presbyte-
rians in England do generally take notice of
this difference, and to that degree, as to ac-
count the one model contrary to the cove-
nant, and the other not contrary to it, but
very well agreeing with it, is a thing that
none can demy, nor any that uses diligence to
inquire can be ignorant of, for it is clear in
divers treatises extant in print. These things,
to my best discerning, are truths; and if they
be indeed so, I am sure are pertinent truths,
toward the healing of our sad divisions; but
if any like to be contentious, I wish I could
say of this church, we have no such custom :
but this certainly may be said, that there is
no custom doth more disedify the churches
of God, and less become the followers of the
Prince of Peace. I shall only add one word
which I am sure is undeniable, and I think is
very considerable, that he that can not join
with the present frame of this church, could not
have lived in the communion of the Christian
church in the time of the first most famous
general assembly of it, the Council of Nice,yea
(to go no higher up, though safely I might),
he must as certainly have separated from the
whole catholic church in the days of the holy
bishop and martyr Cyprian upon this very
scruple of the government, as Novatus did
upon another occasion.
I) R. D. () I) I) R II) (; E'S P R. E. F. A. C. E."
WHEN Mr. Wilson undertook to publish
several pieces of Archbishop LEIGHTON, from
the manuscripts in which they had so long
lain concealed, having heard of the high
esteem I have long professed for the wri-
tings of that excellent person, he entreated
me that I would revise them, and if I ap-
prove the publication, would introduce them
into the world by a recommendatory preface.
The last of these requests I absolutely re-
fused, knowing how very unworthy I am to
pretend, by my suffrage, to add anything to
the reputation and acceptance of what came
from the pen of so eminently great and good
a man: and the more I know of him, and of
myself, the more deeply sensible I must be
of this. But with the former request I cheer-
fully complied, though my various and im-
portant business would have furnished a very
plausible excuse for declining it.
hended that these pieces were not very large,
I found new reasons to be satisfied with the
task I had undertaken, which indeed was
welcome to me in proportion to the degree
in which P perceived it must be laborious.
The papers which were sent me were copies
of others, which I suppose were transcribed
from short-hand notes, which some skilful
writer had haply taken from the archbishop's
mouth. They were beyond comparison more
inaccurate than those of his printed works,
which are most remarkably so; and yet they
contained such inimitable traces of sweet
natural eloquence, and of genuine and lively
piety, as speak the author far more certainly,
than the most exact resemblance of what
was known to be his handwriting could pos-
sibly have done.
Besides a large collection of letters, of
I appre-
which I shall afterward speak, the papers
consisted of his meditations and expositions
on Psalm xxxix., on part of Rom. xii., and
and I knew that, like all the other remains, the whole sixth of Isaiah. On this last sub-
of our incomparable author, they were not lime and instructive portion of Scripture,
designed for the press; so that it was proba- there were three distinct expositions, deliv-
ble they were written in a very hasty man-'ered, as I suppose, at different places; the
ner, considering how well he knew the value latter being, so far as I could judge, supple-
of time, and how entirely he was superior to mental to the former, yet so that additions
popular applause in all his compositions for were made to almost every verse, and some-
the pulpit, as most of these were. The num- times the same things which had been said
berless errors which I had observed in the before, expressed in a different manner. I
first edition of all his English works, by judged it consistent with the strictest fidelity
which the sense of many passages is abso-owing to the works of so illustrious a person
lutely destroyed, and that of scores and hun-
dreds very much obscured, made me the
more ready to attempt the paying this little
tribute of respect to his memory, which no
words or actions can fully express; and I
(which absolutely forbade my adding or di-
minishing anything), to divide them, and in-
corporate them into one whole ; which could
not possibly be done, without transcribing
the pieces, omitting those passages in the
was morally certain, that whatever came former, that were afterward more copiously
from such a pen would be so entertaining' or more correctly expressed in the latter, and
and improving, that I could not fail of being inserting here and there a line or two, by
immediately and abundantly rewarded for way of connexion, to prevent those disagree-
whatever pains it might cost me to prepare able chasms which would otherwise have
it for the Public. defaced much of its beauty. For the rest
When these manuscripts came to my hands, ithe reader may assure himself, that if (which
*Drawn up for the Edition of Archbishop Leighton’s Expository Works, in two volumes, octavo, pub-
lished by David Wilson, Edinburgh, 1748.
60
DR. DODDRIDGE'S PREFACE.
I can not doubt) these papers came genuine
into my hand, they are now entirely so, in
every sentence, and in every clause ; for in
those very few places where the sense was
to me absolutely unintelligible, and the con-
struction incurably ungrammatical, I chose
rather to drop such imperfect fragments, than
by uncertain additions of my own, to run
the risk of imputing to the good archbishop
what l was not sure he ever wrote. Had
these fragments contained hints of any things
curious in criticism, history, or controversy
of any kind, I would have published them
apart, at the end of these volumes: but as
they were very few, and, like the rest of his
writings, entirely of a devotional and practi.
cal nature, I thought it would have been a
formality nearly bordering upon impertinence,
to have collected and inserted them in such
3, Iſlanner.
The Ethico-critical Meditations, on the iv.,
xxxii., and czXX. Psalms, abound with so
many charming sentiments and expressions,
that I could not but desire the English reader
should share in part of the pleasure they had
given me. I have therefore taken care they
should be faithfully translated, and have re-
viewed the version with as much accuracy
as my other engagements would allow. It
is indeed impossible to transfuse the inimita-
ble elegance and strength of the original into
any translation; but he who is incapable of the
pleasure of using that, will, I hope, be glad to
enjoy the benefit of such eminently pious re-
flections, though under the disadvantage of a
dress much less beautiful and ornamental.
When this part of the design was exe-
cuted, I was insensibly, by an ambiguity of
expression in the proposals printed at Edin-
burgh, led into another labor, much greater
than I at first imagined it would have proved,
I mean that of correcting the quarto edition
of the incomparable commentary upon the
first epistle of Peter, which I may venture to
pronounce the most faulty piece of printing
I ever remember to have seen in any lan-
guage. At first, I intended only to have
noted those gross mistakes which quite per-
vert that which any person of common pen-
etration must see to have been the original
sense, and yet are taken no notice of in erro-
neous table of errata. But afterward consid-
ering what an embarrassment it is to com-
mon readers, to see commas, colons, and pe-
riods, placed almost in a promiscuous disor-
der, without any regard to their proper sig-
nification, which is the case here, at least in
j ten lines, I determined to go over the
whole, pen in hand, and correct every page
as I would have done a proof from the press.
While I was thus employed, I observed
that the confusion which many have com-
plained of in the archbishop's method, and
which I myself really thought matter of
some just complaint too, was frequently the
consequence of omitting the numeral marks,
which should denote the subordination of
heads, and this where some of them are in-
serted, as if on purpose to increase the per-
plexity. And it also very frequently results
from the neglect of giving a proper view at
first of the method proposed, and which was
worst of all, in not a few places, from pla-
cing the number of the head, instead of the
head itself. This perhaps was done with
design in the first copy, to save the trouble
of writing it over again; but it is extremely
inconvenient to the reader, as it most natur-
ally leads him to mistake the first sentence
of the enlargement, for the head it is intend-
ed to illustrate.
This is a remark which is applicable to
many of our author's sermons; and I wish
it had been more constantly attended to in
that valuable edition of them published by
Mr. Wilson at Edinburgh two years ago, in
comparison of which, nevertheless, it is cer-
tain that neither of the former are to be
named. I thought it no unwarrantable lib-
erty at all, but a high point of justice, to Sup-
ply with my pen what is so evidently defi-
cient, and, I hope I shall not be condemned
for venturing, as I was expressly desired to
do, here and there to exchange a Scots word
or phrase for an English one, certainly of the
same signification, and more generally un-
derstood. I thought that to have distinguish-
ed all these corrections by different charac-
ters, crotchets, or inverted commas, would
have injured the beauty of the impressions,
and might have looked like a little affecta-
tion of making a vain parade of what I have
done. If any are curious enough to desire
exactly to know it, they may get surer infor-
mation by comparing this edition with the
former, by which they may judge of the
little, but as I thought, very necessary free-
doms taken with the manuscript pieces.
And if any perceive, as I suppose most ob-
servant readers that make the comparison,
will, that the Commentary upon Peter now
reads in a much rounder, clearer, and pleas-
anter manner than it before did, they will
only reflect how much a multitude of little
negligences and errors, each of them seem-
ing in itself minutely and inconsiderably
small, may affect the beauty, character, and
use of a work in which they are found.
On the whole, the preparing these vol-
umes for the press hath generally taken up a
little of my time in the intervals of other
business, daily for several months; but I am
far from repenting the labor I have bestowed
upon it. The delight and edification which
I have found in the writings of this wonder-
ful man, for such I must deliberately call
him, would have been a full equivalent for
my pains, separate from all prospect of that
effect which they might have upon others.
For truly I know not that I have ever spent
a quarter of an hour in reviewing any of
them, but even amidst that interruption
which a critical examination of the copy
would naturally give, I have felt some im,
DR. DODDRIDGE'S PREFACE.
61
pressions which I could wish alway to re-
tain. I can hardly forbear saying, as a con-
siderable philosopher and eminent divine,
with whom I have the honor of an intimate
correspondence and friendship, said to me in
a letter long ago,” and when my acquaint-
ance with our author's works was but be-
ginning, “There is a spirit in Archbishop
Leighton I never met with in any human
writings: nor can I read many lines in
them without being moved.”
Indeed it would be difficult for me to say
where, but in the sacred oracles, I have ever
found such heart-affecting lessons of simpli-
city and humility, candor and benevolence,
exalted piety, without the least tincture of
enthusiasm, and an entire mortification to
every earthly interest, without any mixture
of splenetic resentment. Nor can I ever suf-
ficiently admire that artless manner in which
he lays open, as it were, his whole breast to
the reader, and shows, without seeming to
be at all conscious of it himself, all the vari-
ous graces that can adorn and ennoble the
Christian, running like so many veins of pre-
cious ore in the rich mine where they grew.
And hence, if I mistake not, is that wonderful
energy of his discourses, obvious as they
seem, unadorned as they really are, which I
have observed to be owned by persons of
eminent piety in the most different ranks,
and amid all the variety of education and
capacity that can be imagined. As every
eye is struck by consummate beauty, though
in the plainest dress, and the sight of such
an object impresses much more than any la-
bored description of complexion, features, or
air, or any harangue on the nicest rules of
proportion which could come into considera-
tion ; so, in the works of this great adept in
true Christianity, we do not so much hear of
goodness, as see it in its most genuine traces;
see him a living image of his Divine Master,
for such indeed his writings show, I had al-
most said demonstrate him to have been, by
such internal characters as surely a bad man
could not counterfeit, and no good man can
so much as respect.
Where the matter is so remarkably excel-
lent, a wise and picºs reader will not be
over-solicitous about the style; yet I think
he will find it, in these compositions, far
above any reasonable contempt or censure.
When I consider what the prevailing taste
was a century ago in this respect, I have of.
ten wondered at the many true beauties of
expression that occur in these pieces, and the
general freedom from those false and fanciful
ornaments, if they are to be called ornaments,
which occur in contemporary authors. On
the whole, the style wonderfully suits the
sentiments; and however destitute of the
flights of oratory, has such a dignity and
force mingled with that simplicity, which is
to be sure its chief characteristic ; so that on
*April 10, 1740. The Rev. Dr. Henry Miles, F. R. S.
the whole, it has often reminded me of that
soft and sweet eloquence of Ulysses, which
Homer” describes as falling like flakes of
snow ; and if I might be allowed to pursue
the similitude, I could add, like that, it pen-
etrates deep into the mind too, and tends to
enrich and fructify it.
It is chiefly the practical preacher that
shines in these lectures, yet it seems to me,
that the judicious expositor will also appear,
and appear most to the most competent judg-
es. There is a sort of criticism on the sacred
writings, which none but an eminently good
man can attain ; and if I am at all capable
of judging concerning it, it remarkably reigns
here. We find indeed little of that laborious
sifting of words and syllables, in which some
have worn out so much time and pains, if
not to no purpose at all (for I will not assert
that), at least to purposes very low, and in-
considerable, , when compared with those
which our author pursues and attains. The
reader, will, I think, find great light poured
on many very difficult passages, especially in
the First Epistle of Peter, in a very masterly
manner, and often by a few weighty words.
But these hints are generally very short ; for
the good author appears to have lopped off
everything as superfluous, which did not
immediately tend to make his readers better;
or rather to have had a heart so entirely pos-
sessed with this desire, that nothing else ever
offered itself to his view. Whatever of an
ornamental kind is to be found in these prac-
tical parts of the work, which certainly con-
stitute more than six sevenths of the whole,
appears to have been quite unlabored and
unsought; but it conduces much to our en-
tertainment, and I hope in its consequence to
our improvement, that the author had natur-
ally a very fine imagination; the consequence
of which is, that his works abound with a
charming variety of beautiful figures, spring-
ing up most naturally from his subjects, and
so adding some graces of novelty, to thoughts
in themselves most obvious and common.
On the whole, I can not but hope that God
will be pleased to bless the publication of
these pieces, in these circumstances, as an
occasion of reviving a sense of religion, and
promoting the interest of true Christianity.
It has appeared to me a memorable event,
that when the extreme modesty of Arch-
bishop Leighton had been inexorable to all
the entreaties of his many friends, to print
something during his life, so many of his
precious remains should with such solicitude
be gleaned up after death, and some of them
more than threescore years after it; and that
they should be read with such high esteem
and delight, as it is plain many of them have
been, by persons of the most different de-
nominations throughout Great Britain. I am
very sensible of it as an honor done to me in
the course of divine Providence, that the task
* Kai Brea vipáðiggiv čotkóra Xelpsping tw.-IL. iii. v. 222.
62
DR. DODDRIDGE'S PREFACE.
I have here executed should so very unex-
pectedly be devolved upon me. I have no
property at all in the work, nor the least sec-
ular interest in its success: what I have done
was entirely the result of love to the au-
thor's memory, and concern for the public
good ; but I shall be gloriously rewarded, if
the labor I have bestowed upon it, be the oc-
casion of promoting those great ends which
animated the discourses and actions of the
holy man, who has now dwelt so long among
the blessed inhabitants of that world after
which he so ardently aspired, while yet
among mortals. And let me be permitted to
add, that I have some secret hope this publi-
cation, in these circumstances, may, among
other good effects, promote that spirit of
catholicism, for which our author was so re-
markable, and extend it among various de-
nominations of Christians, in the northern
and southern parts of our island. If the sin-
cerest language or actions can express the
disposition of the heart, it will be here ap-
parent, that a diversity of judgment, with
regard to episcopacy, and several forms both
of discipline and worship connected with it,
have produced in my mind no alienation, no
indifference toward Archbishop Leighton, nor
prevented my delighting in his works, and
profiting by them. . In this respect 1 trust
my brethren in Scotland will, for their own
sake, and that of religion in general, show
the like candor. On the other side, as I have
observed with great pleasure and thankful-
ness how much many of the established cler-
gy in this part of Britain are advancing in
moderation toward their dissenting brethren,
I am fully assured they will not like these
excellent pieces the worse, for having passed
through my hand. It is truly my grief, that
anything should divide me from the fullest
communion with those to whom I am united
in bonds of as tender affection as I bear to
any of my fellow-Christians. And it is my
daily prayer, that God will, by his gentle but
powerful influence on our minds, mutually
dispose us more and more for such a further
union, as may most effectually consolidate
the protestant cause, establish the throne of
our gracious sovereign, remove the scandal
our divisions have occasioned, and strength-
en our hands in those efforts by which we
are attempting, and might then, I hope,
more successfully attempt, the service of our
common Christianity. In the meantime, I
desire most º; to bless God for any
advances that are made toward it ; and I
can not forbear to illustrate and confirm my
thoughts on this head, by inserting the ele-
gant words of a most worthy member of the
Church of England, well known in the learn-
ed world, as I have lately had the honor of
receiving them from his own pen. I conceal
his name, and therefore hope it is no viola-
tion of the laws of friendship, to insert at
large a passage from a familiar letter, which,
if it warms my reader's breast as it did mine,
will be not only an entertainment, but a
blessing to many, and which is as suitable a
conclusion of this preface, as if it had been
written in that view. “I am glad,” says he,
“that Christianity begins to be so well un-
derstood and taught by so many men of parts
and learning in all sects, the fruits of which
appear in a candor and charity unknown to
all ages of the church, except the primitive,
I had almost said, the apostolic age. Does
not this give you a prospect, though perhaps
still very distant, of the completion of the
famous prophecy that speaks of the lion
and the lamb lying down together in the
kingdom of the Messiah 2 Lions there have
been hitherto in all churches, but too many
fierce, greedy, and blood-thirsty lions, though
often disguised like lambs, and some lambs
there have been, simple enough to think it
expedient for the flock, to assume the habit
and terror of lions; but I hope they now be-
gin to undeceive themselves, and to consider
Christianity as intending to bring back the
world to that state of innocence which it en-
joyed before the fall, when in one and the
same paradise, to use the words of Milton,
“Frisking played
All beasts of th’ earth, since wild and of all chast,
In wood or wilderness, forest or den.
Sporting the lion ramped, and in his paw
Dandled the kid.’—
To attain this happy state,” continues this
amiable writer, “all Christians should unite
their endeavors, and instead of looking out
for and insisting upon points of difference
and distinction, seek for those only in which
they do or may agree. They may at least
sow the seeds of peace and unity, though they
should not live to reap the fruits of it in this
world. Blessed are the peacemakers, says
the Prince of Peace, for they shall be called
the children of God. An appellation infi-
nitely more honorable than that of pastor,
bishop, archbishop, patriarch, cardinal, OI
pope, attended with a recompense infinitely
surpassing the richest revenues of the high-
est ecclesiastical dignity.” I join my hearty
wishes and prayers with those of my much:
esteemed friend, that we may all more and
more deserve this character, and attain this
its reward.
P. DoDDRIDGE.
Northampton, April 26, 1748.
PRACTICAL COMMENTARY
UPON THE
FIRST E PIS T L E GENERAL 0 F SAINT P E TER,
CHAPTER I.
VERSE 1. Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, to the
strangers scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia,
Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia.
THE grace of God in the heart of man, is
a tender plant in a strange unkindly soil;
and therefore can not well prosper and grow,
without much care and pains, and that of a
skilful hand, and which hath the art of cher-
ishing it: for this end hath God given the
constant ministry of the world to his church,
not only for the first work of conversion, but
also for confirming and increasing of his
grace in the hearts of his children.
And though the extraordinary ministers of
the gospel, the apostles, had principally the
former for their charge—the converting of
unbelievers, Jews and Gentiles, and so the
the planting of churches, to be after kept, and
watered by others (as the apostle intimates,
1 Cor. iii. 6), yet did they not neglect the
other work of strengthening the grace of
God begun in the new converts of those
times, both by revisiting them, and exhort-
ing them in person, as they could, and by the
Supply of their writing to them when absent.
And the benefit of this extends (not by
accident, but by the purpose and good provi-
dence of God) to the church of God in all
Succeeding ages.
This excellent epistle (full of evangelical
doctrine and apostolical authority) is a brief,
and yet very clear summary both of the con-
solations and instructions needful for the en-
couragement and direction of a Christian in
his journey to heaven, elevating his thoughts
and desires to that happiness, and strength-
ening him against all opposition in the way,
both that of corruption within, and tempta-
tions and afflictions from without.
The heads of doctrine contained in it are
many, but the main that are most insisted
on, are these three, faith, obedience, and pa-
tience ; to establish them in believing, to di-
rect them in doing, and to comfort them in
suffering. And because the first is the ground-
work and support of the other two, this first
chapter is much occupied with persuading
them of the truth of the mystery which they
had received and did believe, viz., their re-
demption and salvation by Christ Jesus; that
inheritance of immortality bought by his
blood for them, and the evidence and sta-
bility of their right and title to it.
And then he uses this belief, this assurance
of the glory to come, as the great persuasive
to the other two, both to holy obedience, and
COIlStant º since nothing can be too
much either to forego or undergo, either to
do or to suffer, for the attainment of that
blessed state.
And as, from the consideration of that ob-
ject and matter of the hope of believers, he
encourages to patience, and exhorteth to ho-
liness in this chapter in general, so, in the
following chapters, he expresses more par-
ticularly, both the universal and special du-
ties of Christians, both in doing and suffer-
ing, often setting before those to whom he
wrote, the matchless example of the Lord
Jesus, and the greatness of their engagement
to follow him.
In the first two verses, we have the inscrip-
tion and salutation, in the usual style of the
apostolic epistles. *
The inscription hath the author and the
address—from whom, and to whom. The
author of this epistle is designated by his
name—Peter; and his calling—an apostle.
We shall not insist upon his name, that it
was imposed by Christ, or what is its signi-
fication: this the evangelists teach us, John
i. 42; Matt. xvi. 18.
By that which is spoken of him in divers
passages of the gospel, he is very remarka-
64
[CHAP. 1.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
ble among the apostles, both for his graces,
and his failings; eminent in zeal and cour-
age, and yet stumbling oft in his forward-
ness, and once grossly falling. And these
by the providence of God being recorded in
Scripture, gave a check to the excess of
Rome's conceit concerning this apostle. Their
extolling and exalting him above the rest, is
not for his cause, much less to the honor of
his Lord and master Jesus Christ, for he is
Injured and dishonored by it; but it is in fa-
vor of themselves. As Alexander distin-
guished his two friends, that the one was a
friend of Alexander, the other a friend of the
king, the preferment which they give this
apostle, is not in good will to Peter, but in
the desire of primacy. But whatsoever he
was, they would be much in pain to prove
Rome's right to it by succession. And if
ever, it had any such right, we may confi-
dently say, it has forfeited it long ago, by
departing from St. Peter's footsteps, and from
his faith, and retaining too much those things
wherein he was faulty: namely,
IIis unwillingness to hear of, and consent
to, Christ's sufferings, his master, spare thy-
self, or far be it from thee,_in those they are
like him ; for thus they would disburden and
exempt the church from the cross, from the
real cross or afflictions, and, instead of that,
have nothing but painted, or carved, or gild-
ed crosses; these they are content to em-
brace, and worship too, but can not endure to
hear of the other. Instead of the cross of
affliction, they make the crown or mitre the
badge of their church, and will have it
known by prosperity, and outward pomp ;
and so turn the church militant into the
church triumphant, not considering that it is
Babylon's voice, not the church's, I sit as a
queen, and shall see no sorrow.
Again, they are like him in his saying on
the mount at Christ's transfiguration, when
he knew not what he said, It is good to be
here : so they have little of the true glory of
Christ, but the false glory of that monarchy on
their seven hills: It is good to be here, say they.
Again, in their undue striking with the
Sword, not the enemies, as he, but the faith-
ful friends and servants of Jesus Christ. But
to proceed.
We see here Peter's office or title,_an
apostle ; not chief bishop. Some in their
glossing have been so impudent as to add
that beside the text; though in chap. v. 4,
he gives that title to Christ alone, and to
himself only fellow elder; and here, not prince
of the apostles, but an apostle, restored and
re-established after his fall, by repentance,
and by Christ himself after his own death
and resurrection. (See John xxi.), Thus we
have in our apostle a singular instance of
human frailty on the one side, and of the
Sweetness of divine grace on the other. Free
and rich grace it is indeed, that forgives and
swallows up multitudes of sins, of the great-
est sins, not only sins before conversion, as
to St. Paul, but foul offences committed after
conversion, as to David, and to this apostle ;
not only once raising them from the dead,
but when they fall, stretching out the same
hand, and raising them again, and restoring
them to their station, and comforting them
in it by his free spirit, as David prays; not
only to cleanse polluted clay, but to work it
into vessels of honor, yea, of the most defiled
shape to make the most refined vessels, not
vessels of honor of the lowest sort, but for
the highest and most honorable services,
vessels to bear his own precious name to the
nations; making the most unworthy and the
most unfit, fit by his grace to be his messen-
gers.
Of Jesus Christ.] Both as the beginning
and the end of his apostleship, as Christ is
called Alpha and Omega_j chosen and called
by him, and called to this—to preach him,
and salvation wrought by him.
Apostle of Jesus Christ.] Sent by him and
the message no other than his name, to make
that known. And what this apostleship was
then, after some extraordinary way, befitting
these first times of the gospel, the ministry
of the word in ordinary is now, and there-
fore an employment of more difficulty and ex-
cellency than is usually conceived by many,
not only by those who look upon it, but even
of those who are exercised in it;-to be am-
bassadors for the greatest of kings, and upon
no mean employment, that great treaty of
peace and reconcilement betwixt him and
mankind. W. 2 Cor. v. 20.
This epistle is directed to the elect, who
are described here, by their temporal and by
their spiritual conditions. The one hath very
much dignity and comfort in it; the other
hath neither, but rather the contrary of both ;
and therefore the apostle, intending their
comfort, mentions the one but in passing, to
signify to whom particularly he sent his epis-
tle; but the other is that which he would
have their thoughts dwell upon, and there-
fore he prosecutes it in his following dis-
course. "And if we look to the Order of the
words, their temporal condition is but inter-
jected ; for it is said, To the elect, first, and
then, To the strangers scattered, &c., . And
he would have this as it were drowned in the
other—According to the foreknowlege of God
the Father.
That those dispersed strangers who dwelt
in the countries here named, were Jews, ap-
pears, if we look to the foregoing epistle,
where the same word is used, and expressly
appropriated to the Jews. James i. 1. St.
Peter in Gal. ii. is called an apostle of the
circumcision, as exercising his apostieship
most toward them ; and there is in some
passages of this epistle, somewhat which,
though belonging to all Christians, yet hath,
in the strain and way of expression, a par-
ticular fitness to the believing Jews, as being
particularly verified in them, which was spo-
ken of their nation, chap. ii. 9, 10.
WER. 1.]
65
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
Some argue from the name, strangers, that
the Gentiles are here meant, which seems
not to be ; for proselyte Gentiles were indeed
called strangers in Jerusalem, and by the
Jews; but were not the Jews strangers in
these places—Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia,
Asia, and Bithynia 2–Not strangers dwell-
ing together in a prosperous, flourishing con-
dition, as a well-planted colony, but stran-
gers of the dispersion, scattered to and fro.
Their dispersion was partly, first by the AS-
syrian captivity, and after that by the Baby-
lonish, and by the invasion of the Romans ;
and it might be in these very times increased
by the believing Jews flying from the hatred
and persecution raised against them at home.
The places here mentioned, through which
they were dispersed, are all in Asia. So Asia
here, is Asia the lesser. Where it is to be
observed, that some of those who heard St.
Peter, Acts ii. 9, are said to be of those re-
gions. And if any of the number then con-
verted were among these dispersed, the com-
fort was no doubt the more grateful from the
hand of the same apostle by whom they
were first converted ; but this is only con-
jecture. Though divine truths are to be re-
ceived equally from every minister alike, yet
it must be acknowledged, that there is some-
thing (we know not what to call it) of a more
acceptable reception of those who at first
were the means of bringing men to God,
than of others; like the opinion some have
of physicians whom they love.
The apostle comforts these strangers of
this dispersion, by the spiritual union which
they obtained by effectual calling ; and so
calls off their eyes from their outward, dis-
persed, and despised condition, to look above
that, as high as the spring of their happi-
ness, the free love and election of God. Scal-
tered in the countries, and yet gathered in
God’s election, chosen or picked out; stran-
gers to men among whom they dwelt, but
known and foreknown to God ; removed from
their own country to which men have natu-
rally an unalterabie affection, but heirs made
of a better (as follows, ver. 3, 4); and hav-
ing within them the evidence both of eternal
election and of that expected salvation, the
spirit of holiness (ver. 2). At the best, a
Christian is but a stranger here, set him
where you will, as our apostle teacheth
after ; and it is his privilege that he is so :
and when he thinks not so, he forgets and
disparages himself: he descends far below
his quality, when he is much taken with
anything in this place of his exile.
But this is the wisdom of a Christian, when
he can solace himself against the meanness
of his outward condition, and any kind of
discomfort attending it, with the comfortable
assurance of the love of God, that he hath
called him to holiness, given him some meas-
ure of it, and an endeavor after more ; and
by this may he conclude, that he hath or-
dained Jim unto salvation. If either he is a
stranger where he lives, or as a stranger de-
serted of his friends, and very near stripped
of all outward comforts, yet may he rejoice
in this, that the eternal, unchangeable love
of God, which is from everlasting to ever-
lasting, is sealed to his soul. And O, what
will it avail a man to be compassed about
with the favor of the world, to sit unmolest-
ed in his own home and possessions, and to
have them very great and pleasant, to be
well moneyed, and landed and befriended, and
yet estranged and severed from God, not
having any token of his special love 2
To the elect.] The apostle here denomi-
mates all the Christians to whom he writes,
by the condition of true believers, calling
them elect and sanctified, &c., and the apos-
tle St. Paul writes in the same style in his
epistles to the churches. Not that all in
these churches they were such indeed, but
because they professed to be such, and, by
that their profession and calling as Chris-
tians, they were obliged to be such : and as
many of them as were in any measure true
to their calling and profession were really
such. Besides, it would seem not unworthy
of consideration, that in all probability there
would be fewer false Christians, and the
number of true believers would be usually
greater, in the churches in those primitive
times, than now in the best reformed
churches: because there could not then be
many of them that were from their infancy
bred in the Christian faith, but the greatest
part were such as, being of years of discre-
tion, were, by the hearing of the gospel,
converted from paganism and Judaism to the
Christian religion first, and made a deliber-
ate choice of it; to which there were at that
time no great outward encouragements, and
therefore the less danger of multitudes of
hypocrites, which, as vermin in summer,
breed most in the time of the church's pros-
perity. Though no nation or kingdom had
then universally received the faith, but rather
hated and persecuted it, yet, were there even
then among them, as the writings of the
apostles testify, false brethren, and inordi-
nate walkers, and men of corrupt minds,
earthly-minded, and led with a spirit of envy
and contention and vain-glory.
Although the question that is moved con-
cerning the necessary qualifications of all the
members of a true visible church can no way
(as I conceive) be decided from the inscrip-
tions of the epistles, yet certainly they are use-
ful to teach Christians and Christian churches
what they ought to be, and what their holy
profession requires of them, and sharply to
reprove the gross unlikeness and inconfor-
mity that is in the most part of men to the
description of Christians. As there be some
that are too strait in their judgment concern-
ing the being and nature of the visible church,
so certainly the greatest part of churches are
too loose in their practice.
From the dissimilitude betwixtour churches,
66
[CHAP. I
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
and those we may make this use of reproof,
that if an apostolical epistle were to be di-
rected to us, it ought to be inscribed, to the
ignorant, profane, malicious, &c. As he,
who at the hearing of the gospel read, said,
“Either this is not the gospel, or we are not
Christians,” so, either these characters, giv-
en in the inscription of these epistles, are not
true characters, or we are not true Christians.
VER. 2. Elect, according to the foreknowledge of
God the Father, through sanctification of the
spirit, unto obedience, and sprinkling of the blood
of Jesus Christ.
IN this verse we have their condition and
the causes of it.—Their condition sanctified
and justified ; the former expressed by obe-
dience, the latter by sprinkling of the blood of
Christ. The causes, 1. Eternal election, 2.
The eaecution of that decree, their effectual
calling, which | conceive) is meant by elec-
tion here, the selecting them out of the world,
and joining them to the fellowship of the
children of God. So John xv. 19. The for-
mer, election, is particularly ascribed to God
the Father, the latter to the Holy Spirit;
and the blood of Jesus Christ, the Son of
God, is here assigned as the cause of their
justification; and so the whole trinity con-
curring dignify them with this their spiritual
and happy estate.
First, I shall discourse of these separately,
and then of their connexion.
1. Of the state itself, and 1, of justifica-
tion, though named last.
This sprinkling has respect to the rite of
the legal purification by the sprinkling of
blood ; and that appositely, for these rites of
sprinkling and blood did all point out this
blood and this sprinkling, and exhibited this
true ransoms of souls, which was only shad-
owed by them.
The use and end of sprinkling were puri-
fication and earpiation, because sin merited
death, and the pollutions and stains of hu-
man nature were by sin. Such is the pollu-
tion, that it can be no manner of way wash-
ed off but by blood. (Heb. ix. 22.) Neither
is there any blood able to purge from sin ex-
cept the most precious blood of Jesus Christ,
which is called (Acts xx. 28) the blood of
God.
That the stain of sin can be washed off
only by blood, intimates that it merits death;
and that no blood, but that of the Son of God,
can do it, intimates that this stain merits
eternal death ; and it had been our portion,
except the death of the eternal Lord of life
had freed us from it.
Filthiness needs sprinkling; guiltiness (such
as deserves death) needs sprinkling of blood ;
and the death it deserves being everlasting
death, the blood must be the blood of Christ,
the eternal Lord of life, dying to free us from
the sentence of death.
The soul (as the body) hath its life, its
Jhealth, its purity, and the contrary of these,
—its death, diseases, deformities, and impu-
rity—which belong to it as to their first sub-
ject, and to the body by participation.
The soul and body of all mankind are
stained by the pollution of sin. The impure
leprosy of the soul is not a spot outwardly,
but wholly inward; hence, as the corporal
leprosy was purified by the sprinkling of
blood, so is this. Then, by reflecting, we
see how all this that the apostle St. Peter ex-
presseth is necessary to justification. 1. Christ,
the mediator betwixt God and man, is God
and man. 2. A mediator not only interce-
ding, but also satisfying (Eph. ii. 16). 3.
This satisfaction doth not reconcile us, un-
less it be applied: therefore there is not only
mention of blood, but the sprinkling of it.
The Spirit by faith sprinkleth the soul, as
with hyssop, wherewith the sprinkling was
made: this is it of which the prophet speaks
(Isa. lii. 15), So shall he sprinkle many na-
tions; and which the apostle to the Hebrews
prefers above all legal sprinklings (chap. ix.
12, 13, 14), both as to its duration and as to
the excellency of its effects.
Men are not easily convinced and per-
suaded of the deep stain of sin, and that no
other laver can fetch it out but the sprink-
ling of the blood of Jesus Christ. Some who
have moral resolutions of amendment, dis-
like at least gross sins, and purpose to avoid
them, and it is to them cleanness enough to
reform in those things; but they consider
not what becomes of the guiltiness they have
contracted already, and how that shall be
purged, how their natural pollution shall be
taken away. Be not deceived in this, it is
not a transient sigh, or a light word, or a
wish of God forgive me ; no, nor the high-
est current of repentance, nor that which is
the truest evidence of repentance, amend-
ment; it is none of these that purify in the
sight of God, and expiate wrath ; they are
all imperfect and stained themselves, can not
stand and answer for themselves, much less
be of value to counterpoise the former guilt
of sin. The very tears of the purest repen-
tance, unless they be sprinkled with this
blood, are impure; all our washings without
this are but washings of the blackmoor—it
is labor in vain. Jer. ii. 22 ; Job ix. 30, 31.
There are none truly purified by the blood of
Christ who do not endeavor after purity of
heart and conversation ; but yet it is the blood
of Christ by which they are all made fair,
and there is no spot in them. Here it is said,
elect to obedience; but because that obedience
is not perfect, there must be sprinkling of
the blood too. There is nothing in religion
further out of nature's reach, and out of its
liking and believing, than the doctrine of
redemption by a Savior, and a crucified Sa-
vior, by Christ, and by his blood, first shed
on the cross in his suffering, and then sprin-
kled on the soul by his spirit. It is easier to
make men sensible of the necessity of repen-
tance and amendment of life (though that
VER. 2.]
67
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
is very difficult), than of this purging by the
sprinkling of this precious blood. Did we
see how needful Christ is to us, we should
esteem and love him more.
It is not by the hearing of Christ and of
his blood in the doctrine of the gospel; it is
not by the sprinkling of water, even that
water which is the sign of this blood with-
out the blood itself and the sprinkling of it.
Many are present where it is sprinkled, and
yet have no portion of it. Look to this, that
this blood be sprinkled on your souls, that
the destroying angel may pass by you. There
is a generation (not some few, but a genera-
tion) deceived in this; they are their own
deceivers, pure in their own eyes. (Prov.
xxx. 12.) How earnestly doth David pray,
Wash me, purge me with hyssop 1 Though
bathed in tears (Psal. vi. 6) that satisfied
not: Wash thou me. This is the honorable
condition of the saints, that they are puri-
fied and consecrated unto God by this sprin-
kling ; yea, they have on long white robes
washed in the blood of the Lamb. There is
mention indeed of great tribulation, but there
is a double comfort joined with it. 1. They
come out of it; that tribulation hath an end.
And, 2. They pass from that to glory; for
they have on the robe of candidates, long
white robes washed in the blood of the Lamb,
washed white in blood. As for this blood,
it is nothing but purity and spotlessness, be-
ing stained with no sin, and besides hath that
virtue to take away the stain of sin, where it
is sprinkled. My well-beloved is white and
ruddy, saith the spouse; thus in his death,
ruddy by bloodshed, white by innocence and
purity of that blood.
Shall they then, who are purified by this
blood, return to live among the swine, and
tumble with them in the puddle 2 What
gross injury were this to themselves, and to
that blood by which they are cleansed They
who are chosen to this sprinkling, are like-
wise chosen to obedience. This blood puri-
fieth the heart; yea, this blood purgeth our
consciences from dead works to serve the liv-
ing God. . (Heb. ix. 14.)
2. Of their sanctification. Elect unto obe-
dience..] . It is easily understood to whom.
When obedience to God is expressed by the
simple absolute name of obedience, it teach-
eth us that to him alone belongs absolute and
unlimited obedience, all obedience by all
CreatureS.
man, that he hath departed from this obe-
dience, that we are become sons of disobe-
dience; but grace, renewing the hearts of
believers, changeth their natures, and so their
names, and makes them children of obedience
§. afterward in this chapter). As this obe-
ience consists in the receiving Christ as our
Redeemer, so also at the same time as our
lord or king ; there is an entire rendering
up of the whole man to his obedience. This
obedience, then, of the only-begotten Jesus
Christ, may well be understood not as his
It is the shame and misery of
actively, as Beza interprets it, but objectively,
as 2 Cor. x. 5. I think here it is contained,
yea chiefly understood to signify that obedi-
ence which the apostle in the epistle to the
Romans calls the obedience of faith, by which
the doctrine of Christ is received (and so
Christ himself), which uniteth the believing
Soul to Christ—he sprinkles it with his blood,
to the remission of sin—and which is the
root and spring of all future obedience in the
Christian life.
By obedience, sanctification is here intima-.
ted; it signifies then, both habitual and ac-
tive obedience, renovation of heart, and con-
formity to the divine will. The mind is illu-
minated by the Holy Ghost, to know and
believe the divine will ; yea, this faith is the
great and chief part of obedience. (See
Rom. i. 8.) The truth of the doctrine is first
impressed on the mind ; hence flows out
pleasant obedience, and full of love; hence
all the affections, and the whole body, with
its members, learn to give a willing obedi-
ence, and submit unto God; whereas before
they resisted him, being under the standard
of Satan.
This obedience, though imperfect, yet hath
a certain (if I may so say) imperfect perfec-
tion. It is universal in three manner of ways.
1. In the subject. 2. In the object. 3. In
the duration: the whole man is subjected to
the whole haw, and that constantly and per-
severingly.
The first universality is the cause of the
other: because it is not in the tongue alone,
or in the hand, &c., but has its root in the
heart: therefore it doth not wither as the
grass, or flower lying on the surface of the
earth, but it flourishes because rooted. And
it embraces the whole law, because it arises
from a reverence it has for the lawgiver
himself. Reverence, I say, but tempered
with love ; hence, it accounts no law nor
command little, or of small value, which is
from God, because he is great and highly
esteemed by the pious heart ; no command
hard (though contrary to the flesh), because
all things are easy to love. There is the
same authority in all, as St. James divinely
argues; and this authority is the golden chain
of all the commandments, which if broken
in any link, all falls to pieces.
That this threefold perfection of obedience
is not a picture drawn by fancy, is evident in
David, Psalm crix., where he subjects him-
self to the whole law ; his feet, ver. 105;
his mouth, ver, 13; his heart, ver. 11 ; the
whole tenor of his life, ver. 24. He subjects
himself to the whole law, ver. 6, and he
professes his constancy therein, in verses 16
and 33. Teach me the way of thy statutes, and
I shalt keep it unto the end.
II. We have the causes of the condition
above described.
According to the foreknowledge of God the
Father.] The exactest knowledge of things
is, to know them in their causes; it is then
68
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
an excellent thing, and worthy of their en-
deavors who are most desirous of knowledge,
to know the best things in their highest
causes ; and the happiest way of attaining
to this knowledge, is, to possess those things,
and to know them in experience. To such
persons the apostle here speaks, and sets be-
fore them the excellency of their spiritual
condition, and leads them to the causes of it.
Their state is, that they are sanctified and
justified: the nearest cause of both these is,
..Jesus Christ. He is made unto them both
righteousness and sanctification: the sprink-
ling of his blood purifies them from guilti-
ness, and quickens them to obedience.
The appropriating or applying cause comes
next under consideration, which is the holy,
and holy-making or sanctifying spirit, the
author of their selection from the world, and
effectual calling unto grace.
The source of all the appointing or decree-
ing cause, is God the Father: for though
they all work equally in all, yet, in order of
working, we are taught thus to distinguish
and particularly to ascribe the first work of
eternal election to the first person of the
blessed trinity.
In or through sanctification.] For to ren-
der it, elect to the sanctification, is strained:
so then I conceive this election is their effect-
ual calling, which is by the working of the
Holy Spirit: see 1 Cor. i. 26–28, where voca-
tion and election are used in the same sense:
Ye see your calling, brethren, how that not
many wise men after the flesh, &c., but God
ſhath chosen the foolish things of the world to
confound the wise. . It is the first act of de-
cree of election ; the beginning of its per-
formance in those that are elected ; and it is
in itself a real separating of men from the
profane and miserable condition of the world,
and an appropriating and consecrating of a
man unto God ; and therefore, both in re-
gard of its relation to election, and in regard
of its own nature, it well bears that name.
See Rom. viii. 28, 30; Acts ii. 47, and xiii.
48; John xv. 19.
Sanctification in the narrower sense as dis-
tinguished from justification, signifieth the
inherent holiness of a Christian, or his being
inclined and enabled to perform the obedience
mentioned in this verse; but it has here a sense
more large, and is co-extended with the
whole work of renovation; it is the severing or
separating of men to God, by his Holy Spirit,
drawing them unto him ; and so it compre-
hends justification (as here) and the first
working of faith, by which the soul is justi-
fied, through its º and applying
the righteousness of Jesus Christ.
Of the Spirit..] The word calls men exter-
nally, and by that external calling prevails
with many to an external receiving and pro-
fessing of religion; but if it be left alone it
goes no farther. It is indeed the means of
sanctification and effectual calling, as John
xvii. 17, Sanctify them through thy truth :
but this it doth when the spirit, which speaks
in the word, works in the heart, and causes
it to hear and obey. The spirit or soul of a
man is the chief and the first subject of this
work, and it is but slight false work that be-
gins not there; but the spirit here is to be
taken for the spirit of God, the efficient,
rather than for the spirit of man, the subject
of this sanctification. And therefore our Sa-
vior in that place prays to the Father, that
he would sanctify his own by that truth ; and
this he doeth by the concurrence of his Spirit
with that word of truth which is the life and
vigor of it, and makes it prove the power of
God unto salvation to them that believe. It is
a fit means in itself, but it is a prevailing
means only when the spirit of God brings it
into the heart. . It is a sword, and sharper
than a two-edged sword fit to divide, yea, even
to the dividing of soul and spirit ; but this it
doth not, unless it be in the Spirit's hand,
and he apply it to this cutting and dividing.
The word calls, but the spirit draws, not sever-
ed from that word, but working in it, and by it.
It is very difficult work to draw a soul out
of the hands and strong citains of Satan, and
out of the pleasing entanglements of the
world, and out of its own natural perverse-
ness, to yield up itself unto God—to deny
itself, and live to him, and in so doing, to
run against the main stream, and the current
of the ungodly world without, and corrup-
tion within.
The strongest rhetoric, the most moving
and persuasive way of discourse, is all too
weak: the tongue of men or angels can not
prevail with the soul to free itself, and shake
off all that detains it. Although it be con-
vinced of the truth of those things that are
represented to it, yet still it can and will hold
out against it, and say, Non persuadebis eti-
amsi persuaseris.
The hand of man is too weak to pluck any
soul out of the crowd of the world, and to set
it in among the select number of believers.
Only the Father of Spirits hath absolute
command of spirits, viz., the souls of men,
to work on them as he pleaseth, and where
he will. This powerful, this sanctifying
Spirit knows no resistance; works sweetly,
and yet strongly ; it can come into the heart,
whereas all other speakers are forced to stand
without. That still voice within persuades
more than all the loud crying without; as he
that is within the house, though he speaks
low, is better heard and understood, than he
that shouts without doors.
When the Lord himself speaks by this
his Spirit to a man, selecting and calling him
out of the lost world, he can no more diso-
bey than Abraham did, when the Lord spoke
to him after an extraordinary manner, to de-
part from his own country and kindred :
Abraham departed as the Lord had spoken to
him, Gen. xii. 4. . There is a secret, but very
powerful virtue in a word, or look, or touch
of this Spirit upon the soul, by which it is
WER. 2.]
69
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
forced not with a harsh, but a pleasing vio-
lence, and can not choose but follow it, not
unlike that of Elijah's mantle upon Elisha.
How easily did the disciples forsake their
callings and their dwellings to follow Christ!
The Spirit of God draws a man out of the
world by a sanctified light sent into his mind,
1. Discovering to him, how base and false
the sweetness of sin is, which withholds men
and amuses them, that they return not ; and
how true and sad the bitterness is that will
follow upon it; 2. Setting before his eyes
the free and happy condition, the glorious
liberty of the sons of God, the riches of their
present enjoyment, and their far larger and
assured hopes for hereafter; 3. Making the
beauty of Jesus Christ visible to the soul;
which straightway takes it so, that it can
not be stayed from coming to him, though its
most beloved friends, most beloved sins, lie
in the way, and hang about it, and cry, Will
you leave us so 2 It will tread upon all to
come within the embraces of Jesus Christ,
and say with St. Paul, I was not disobedient
to (or unpersuaded by) the heavenly vision.
It is no wonder that the godly are by some
called singular and precise ; they are so, sin-
gular, a few selected ones picked out by
God’s own hand, for himself: Know that the
Lord hath set apart him that is godly for
himself, Psalm iv. 3. Therefore, saith our
Savior, the world hates you, because I have
chosen you out of the world. For the world
lies in unholiness and wickedness—is buried
in it; and as living men can have no pleasure
among the dead, neither can these elected
ones among the ungodly : they walk in the
world as warily as a man or woman neatly
apparelled would do among a multitude that
are all sullied and bemired.
Endeavor to have this sanctifying Spirit in
yourselves; pray much for it; for his promise
is passed to us, that He will give this Holy
Spirit to them that ask it. And shall we be
such fools as to want it, for want of asking 2
When we find heavy fetters on our souls,
and much weakness, yea, averseness to fol-
low the voice of God calling us to his obedi-
ence, then let us pray with the Spouse, Draw
me. She can not go nor stir without that
drawing ; and yet, with it, not only goes, but
runs. We will run after thee.
Think it not enough that you hear the
word, and use the outward ordinances of
{}od, and profess his name ; for many are
thus called, and yet but a few of them are
chosen. There is but small part of the world
outwardly called, in comparison of the rest
that is not so, and yet the number of the
true elect is so small, that it gains the num-
ber of these that are called, the name of
many. They who are in the visible church,
and partake of external vocation, are but like
a large list of names (as in civil elections is
usual), out of which a small number is cho-
Sen to the dignity of true Christians, and in-
Wested into their privilege. Some men in
nomination to offices or employments, think
it a worse disappointment and disgrace to
have been in the list, and yet not chosen,
than if their names had not been mentioned
at all. Certainly it is a greater unhappiness
to have been not far{..", the kingdom of God
(as our Savior speaks), and miss of it, than
still to have remained in the farthest dis-
tance; to have been at the mouth of the
haven (the fair havens indeed), and yet driv-
en back and shipwrecked. Your labor is
most preposterous; you seek to ascertain and
make sure things that can not be made sure,
and that which is both more worth, and may
be made surer than them all, you will not
endeavor to make sure. Hearken to the
apostle's advice, and at length set about this
in earnest, to make your calling and election
sure. Make sure this election, as it is here
(for that is the º your effectual calling
sure, and that will bring with it assurance
of the other, the eternal election and love of
God toward you, which follows to be consid-
ered.
According to the foreknowledge of God the
Father.] Known unto God are all his works
from the beginning, saith the apostle James.
Acts xv. 18. He sees all things from the be-
ginning of time to the end of it, and beyond
to all eternity, and from all eternity he did
foresee them. But this foreknowledge here
relates peculiarly to the elect. Verba sensus
in sacra scriptura denolant affectus, as the
Rabbins remark. So in man, Psal. lxvi., If I
see iniquity; and in God, Psal. i. 6, For the
Lord knoweth the way of the righteous, &c.
And again, Amos iii. 2, You only have I
known of all the families of the earth, &c.
And in that speech of our Savior, relating it
as the terrible doom of reprobates at the last
day, Depart, &c., I know you not, I never
knew you. So St. Paul, Rom. vii. 15, For
that which I do, I allow [Gr. º not. And
Beza observes that yºvágrew is by the Greeks
sometimes taken for decernere, judicare ;
thus some speak, to congnosce upon a busi-
ness. So then this foreknowledge is no other
than that eternal love of God, or decree of
election, by which some are appointed unto
life, and being foreknown or elected to that
end, they are predestinate to the way to it.
For whom he did foreknow, he also did pre-
destinate to be conformed to the image of
his Son, that he might be the first-born among
many brethren. Rom. viii. 29.
It is most vain to imagine a foresight of
faith in men, and that God in the view
of that faith, as the condition of election it-
self, as it is called, has chosen them : for,
1. Nothing at all is futurum, or can have that
imagined futurition, but as it is, and because
it is decreed by God to be ; and, therefore
(as says the Apostle St. James, in the pas-
sage before cited), Known unto God are all
his works, because they are his works in
time, and his purpose from eternity. 2. It
is most absurd to give any reason of Divine
70
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
will with cut himself. 3. This supposition
easily solves all the difficulty which the apos-
tle speaks of; and yet he never thought of
such a solution, but runs high for an answer,
not to satisfy cavilling reason, but to silence
it, and stop its mouth : for thus the apostle
argues, Rom. ix. 19, 20: Thou wilt say then
unto me, Why doth he yet find fault ; for
who hath resisted his will 2 Nay, but, O man,
who art thou that repliest against God 8
Who can conceive whence this should be,
that any man should believe, unless it be
given him of God? And if given him, then
it was his purpose to give it him; and if so,
then is evident that he had a purpose to
save him ; and for that end he gives faith :
not therefore purposes to save, because man
shall believe. 4. This seems cross to these
Scriptures, where they speak of the subordi-
nation, or rather co-ordination, of those two:
as here, foreknown and elect, not because of
obedience, or sprinkling, or any such thing,
but to obedience and sprinkling which is by
faith. So God predestinated, not because he
foresaw men would be conſormed to Christ,
but that they might be so. Rom. viii. 29,
For whom he did foreknow he also did pre-
destinate. And the same order is observable,
Acts ii. 47, And the Lord added to the Church
daily such as should be saved. Also xiii. 48,
And as many as were ordained to eternal life
believed.
This foreknowledge, then, is his eternal
and exchangeable love; and that thus he
chooseth some, and rejecteth others, is for
that great end, to manifest and magnify his
mercy and justice : but why he appointed this
man for the one, and that man for the other,
Inade Peter a vessel of this mercy, and Judas
of wrath, this is even so, because it seemed
good to him. This, if it be harsh, yet is
apostolic doctrine. Hath not the potter (saith
St. Paul) power over the same lump, to make
one vessel unto honor and another unto dis-
honor 2 This deep we must admire, and al-
ways, in considering it, close with this: O the
depth of the riches, both of the wisdom and knowl-
edge of God /
III. The connexion of these we are now for
our profit to take notice of; that effectual
calling is inseparably tied to this eternal fore-
knowledge or election on the one side, and to
salvation on the other. These two links of
the chain are up in heaven in God's own hand;
but this middle one is let down to earth into
the hearts of his children, and they, laying
hold on it, have sure hold on the other two,
for no power can sever them. If, therefore,
they can read the characters of God's image
in their own souls, those are the counter-part
of the golden characters of his love, in which
their names are written in the book of life.
Their believing writes their names under the
promises of the revealed book of life, the
Scriptures, and so ascertains them, that the
same names are in the secret book of life
which God hath by himself from eternity.
So that finding the stream of grace in their
hearts, though they see not the fountain
whence it flows, nor the ocean into which it
returns, yet they know that it hath its source,
and shall return to that Ocean which ariseth
from their eternal election, and shall empty
itself into that etermity of happiness and salva-
tlon.
Hence much joy ariseth to the believer:
this tie is indissoluble, as the agents are, the
Father, the Son, and the Spirit: so are elec-
tion, and vocation, and sanctification, and
justification, and glory. Therefore, in all
conditions, believers may, from a sense of
the working of the Spirit in them, look back
to that election, and forward to that salvation;
but they that remain unholy and disobedient,
have as yet no evidence of this love; and
therefore can not, without vain presumption
and self-delusion, judge thus of themselves,
that they are within the peculiar love of God.
But in this, Let the righteous be glad, and let
them shout for joy, all that are upright in
heart.
It is one main point of happiness, that he
that is happy doth know and judge himself
to be so ; this being the peculiar good of a
reasonable creature, it is to be enjoyed in a
reasonable way ; it is not as the dull resting
of a stone, or any other natural body in its
natural place; but the knowledge and con-
sideration of it is the fruition of it, the very
relishing and tasting its sweetness.
The perfect blessedness of the saints is
awaiting them above ; but even their present
condition is truly happy, though incompletely,
and but a small beginning of that which they
expect. And this their present happiness is
so much the greater the more clear knowl-
edge and firm persuasion they have of it. It
is one of the pleasant fruits of the godly, to
know the things that are freely given them of
God, 1 Cor. ii. 12. Therefore the apostle, to
comfort his dispersed brethren, sets before
them a description of that excellent spiritual
condition to which they are called.
If election, effectual calling, and salvation,
be inseparably linked together, then, by any
One of them a man may lay hold upon all the
rest, and may know that his hold is sure: and
this is that way wherein we may attain, and
ought to seek, that comfortable assurance of
the love of God. Therefore make your calling
sure, and by that, your election; for that being
done, this follows of itself. We are not to pry
immediately into the decree, but to read it in
the performance. Though the mariner sees
not the pole-star, yet the needle of the com-
pass which points to it, tells him which way
he sails: thus the heart that is touched with
the loadstone of Divine love, trembling with
godly fear, and yet still looking toward God
by fixed believing, points at the love of elec-
tion, and tells the soul that its course is
heavenward, toward the haven of eternal
rest. He that loves may be sure he was loved
first; and he that chooses God for his delight
VER. 2.]
71
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
and portion may conclude confidently that
God hath chosen him to be one of those that
shall enjoy him, and be happy in him for ever;
for that our love and electing of him is but
the return and repercussion of the beams of
his love shining upon us.
Find thou but within thee sanctification by
the Spirit, and this argues, necessarily, both
justification by the Son, and the election of
God the Father. Hereby know we that we
dwell in him, and he in us, because he has given
us of his Spirit. 1 John iv. 13. It is a most
strange demonstration, ab effectu reciproco :
he called those he hath elected ; he elected
those he called. Where this sanctifying Spirit
is not, there can be no persuasion of this
eternal love of God: they that are children
of disobedience can conclude no otherwise of
themselves but that they are the children of
wrath. Although, from present unsanctifica-
tion, a man can not infer that he is not elected;
for the decree may, for a part of man’s life,
run (as it were) under ground; yet this is
sure, that the estate leads to death, and un-
less it be broken, will prove the black line of
reprobation. A man hath no portion among
the children of God, nor can read one word
of comfort in all the promises that belong to
them, while he remains unholy. Men may
please themselves in profane scoffing at the
holy Spirit of grace, but let them withal know
this, that that holy Spirit, whom they mock
and despise, is that Spirit who seals men to
the day of redemption. Ephes. iv. 30.
If any pretend that they have the Spirit,
and so turn away from the straight rule of the
holy Scriptures, they have a spirit indeed, but
it is a fanatical spirit, the spirit of delusion
and giddiness; but the Spirit of God, that
leads his children in the way of truth, and is
for that purpose sent them from heaven to
guide them thither, squares their thoughts
and ways to that rule whereof it is author,
and that word which was inspired by it, and
sanctifies them to obedience. He that saith,
I know him, and keepeth not his commandments,
is a liar, and the truth is not in him. 1 John
11. O.
Now this Spirit which sanctifieth, and
sanctifieth to obedience, is within us the
evidence of our election, and the earnest of
our salvation. And whoso are not sanctified
and led by this Spirit, the apostle tells us
what is their condition. Rom. viii. 9. If any
man have not the Spirit of Christ he is none
of his.
Let us not delude ourselves: this is a truth,
if there be any in religion ; they who are not
made saints in the state of grace shall never
be saints in glory.
The stones which are appointed for that
glorious temple above are hewn and polished,
and prepared for it here ; as the stones were
wrought and prepared in the mountains for
building the temple at Jerusalem.
This is God's order: Psalm lxxxiv. 12. He
gives grace and glory. Moralists can tell us,
*
that the way to the temple of honor is through
the temple of virtue. . They that think they
are bound for heaven in the ways of sin have
either found a new way untrodden by all that
are gone thither, or will find themselves
deceived in the end. We need not then that
poor shift for the pressing of holiness and
obedience upon men, to represent it to them as
the meriting cause of salvation. This is not
at all to the purpose, seeing that without it
the necessity of holiness to salvation is pres-
sing enough : for holiness is no less necessary
to salvation, than if it were the meriting cause
of it; it is as inseparably tied to it in the
purpose of God. And in the order of perform-
ance, godliness is as certainly before salva-
tion as if salvation did wholly and altogether
depend upon it, and were in point of justice
deserved by it. Seeing, then, there is no
other way to happiness but by holiness, no
assurance of the love of God without it, take
the apostle's advice; study it, seek it, follow
earnestly after holiness, without which no man
shall see the Lord.
Grace unto you and peace be multiplied.
It hath always been a civil custom among
men, to season their intercouse with good
wishes one for another; this the apostles use
in their epistles in a spiritual diviné, way,
suitable to their holy writings. It well be-
comes the messengers of grace and peace, to
wish both, and to make their salutation con-
form to the main scope and subject of their dis-
course. The Hebrew word of salutation we
have here—Peace, and that which is the spring
both of this and all good things, in the other
word of salutation used by the Greeks—Grace.
All right rejoicing and prosperity, and happi-
ness, flow from this source, and from this
alone, and are sought elsewhere in vain.
In general, this is the character of a Chris-
tian spirit to have a heart filled with bles-
sing, with this sweet good-will and good-
wishing to all, especially to those who arc
their brethren in the same profession of re-
ligion. And this charity is a precious balm,
diffusing itself in the wise and seasonable
expressions of it, upon fit occasions; and
those expressions must be cordial and sincere,
not like what you call court holy-water, in
which there is nothing else but falsehood, or
vanity at the best. This manifests men to
be the sons of blessing, and of the ever-bles-
sed God, the father of all blessing, when in
his name they bless one another: yea, our
Savior's rule goes higher, to bless those that
curse them, and urges it by that relation to
God as their Father, that in this they may
resemble him: That ye may be the children
of your Father which is in heaven.
But in a more eminent way it is the duty
of pastors to bless their people, not only by
their public and solemn benediction, but by
daily and instant prayers for them in secret.
And the great Father, who seeth in secret,
will reward them openly.
They are to be ever both endeavoring and
72
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
wishing their increase of knowledge and all
spiritual grace, in which they have in St.
Paul a frequent pattern.
They who are messengers of this grace, if
they have experience of it, it is the oil of
gladness that will dilate their heart, and
make it large in love and spiritual desires
for others, especially their own flocks.
Let us consider, 1. The matter of the apos-
tle's desire for them—grace and peace. 2. The
measure of it—that it may be multiplied.
1st. The matter of the apostle's desire,
Grace. We need not make a noise with the
many school-distinctions of grace, and de-
scribe in what sense it is here to be taken:
for no doubt it is all-saving grace to those
dispersed brethren, so that in the largest no-
tion which it can have that way, we may
safely here take it.
What are preventing grace, assisting
grace, working and co-working grace (as we
may admit these differences in a sound
sense), but divers names of the same effec-
tual saving grace, in relation to our different
estate 2 as the same sea receives different
names from the different parts of the shore it
beats upon. First, it prevents and works;
then it assists and prosecutes what it hath
wrought: He worketh in us to will and to
do. But the whole sense of saving grace, I
conceive is comprehended in these two.
1. Grace in the fountain, that is, the peculiar
love and favor of God. 2. Grace in the
streams, the fruits of this love (for it is not
unempty, but a most rich and liberal love),
viz., all the grace and spiritual blessings of
God bestowed upon them whom he hath
freely chosen. The love of God in itself can
neither diminish nor increase, but it is multi-
plied, or abounds in the manifestation and
effects of it. So then, to desire grace to be
multiplied to them, is to wish to them the
living spring of it, that love which can not
be exhausted, but is ever flowing forth, and
instead of abating, makes each day richer
than the preceding.
And this is that which should be the top
and sum of Christian desires—to have, or
want any other thing indifferently, but to be
resolved and resolute in this, to seek a share
in this grace, the free love of God, and the
sure evidences of it within you, the fruit of
holiness, and the graces of his Spirit. But
the most of us are otherwise taken up : we
will not be convinced how basely and fool-
ishly we are busied, though in the best and
most respected employments of the world,
so long as we neglect, our noblest trade of
growing rich in grace, and the comfortable
enjoyment of the love of God. Our Savior
tells us of one thing needful, importing that
all other things are comparatively unneces-
sary, by works, and mere impertinencies;
and yet in these we lavish out our short and
uncertain time; we let the other stand by
till we find leisure. Men, who are altogether
profane, think not on it at all. Some others
possibly deceive themselves thus, and say,
When I have done with such a business in
which I am engaged, then I will sit down
seriously to this, and bestow more time and
pains on these things, which are undeniably
greater and better, and more worthy of it.
But this is a slight that is in danger to undo
us. What if we attain not to the end of that
business, but end ourselves before it 2 Or
if we do not, yet some other business may
step in after that. Oh then, say we, that
must be despatched also. Thus, by such de-
lays, we may lose the present opportunity,
and in the end, our own souls.
Oh! be persuaded it deserves your dili-
gence, and that without delay, to seek some-
what that may be constant enough to abide
with you, and strong enough to uphold you
in all conditions, and that is alone this free
grace and love of God. While many say,
Who will show us any good 2 set you in with
David in his choice, Lord, lift thou up the
light of thy countenance upon me, and this
shall rejoice my heart more than the abun-
dance of corn and wine. Psalm iv. 6, 7.
This is that light which can break into
the darkest dungeons, from which all other
lights and comforts are shut out ; and with-
out this, all other enjoyments are, what the
world would be without the sun, nothing but
darkness. Happy they who have this ight
of Divine favor and grace shining into their
souls, for by it they shall be led to that city,
where the sun and moon are needless ; for
The glory of God doth lighten it, and the
Lamb is the light thereof. Rev, xxi. 23. 4.
Godliness is profitable for all things, saith
the apostle, having the promises of this life
and that which is to come , all other bles-
sings are the attendants of grace, and follow
upon it. This blessing which the apostle
here (as St. Paul also in his Epistles) joins
with grace, was, with the Jews, of so large
a sense, as to comprehend all that they could
desire ; when they wished peace, they meant
all kind of good, all welfare and prosperity.
And thus we may take it here, for all kind
of peace; yea, and for all other blessings,
but especially that spiritual peace, which is
the proper fruit of grace, and doth so intrin-
sically flow from it.
We may and ought to wish to the church
of God outward blessings, and particularly
outward peace, as one of the greatest, and
one of the most valuable favors of God: thus
prayed the psalmist, Peace be within thy
walls, and prosperity within thy palaces.
That Wisdom which doth what he will,
by what means he will, and works one con-
trariety out of another, brings light out of
darkness, good out of evil—can and doth
turn tears and troubles to the advantage of his
church; but certainly, in itself, peace is more
suitable to its increase, and, if not abused, it
proves so too. Thus in the apostolic times,
it is said, Acts ix. 31, The church had peace,
and increased eacceedingly.
WER. 2.]
73
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
We ought also to wish for ecclesiastical
peace to the church, that she may be free
from dissensions and divisions. These read-
ily arise, more or less, as we see, in all times,
and haunt religion, and the reformation of it,
as a malus genius. St. Paul had this to say
to his Corinthians, 1 Ep. i. 5, though he had
given them this testimony, that they were
enriched in all utterance and knowledge, and
were wanting in no gift, yet, presently after,
ver. 13, I hear that there are divisions and con-
tentions among you. The enemy had done
this, as our Savior speaks; and this enemy
is no fool, for, by Divine permission, he works
to his own end very wisely ; there is not one
thing that doth on all hands choke the seed
of religion so much, as thorny debates and
differences about itself. So, in succeeding
ages, and at the breaking forth of the light
in Germany, in Luther's time, multitudes of
SectS arose.
Profane men do not only stumble,but fall and
break their necks upon these divisions. We
see, (think they, and some of them possibly
say it out), that they who mind religion most,
can not agree upon it: our easiest way is, not
to embroil ourselves, not at all to be troubled
with the business. Many are of Gallio’s
temper ; they will care for none of those
things. Thus these offences prove a mis-
chief to the profane world, as Our Savior
says, Wo to the world because of offences.
Then those on the erring side, who are
taken with new opinions and fancies, are al-
together taken up with them, their main
thoughts are spent upon them ; and thus the
sap is drawn from that which should nour-
ish and prosper in their hearts, sanctified use-
ful knowledge, and saving grace. The other
3.TC 3 S weeds, which divert the mourishment
in gardens from the plants and flowers; and
certainly these weeds, viz., men's own con-
ceits, can not but grow more with them,
when they give way to them, than solid re-
ligion doth ; for their hearts (as one said of
the earth) are mother to those, and but step-
mother to this.
It is also a loss even to those that oppose
errors and divisions, that they are forced to
be busied in that way ; for the wisest and
godliest of them find (and such are sensible
of it) that disputes in religion are no friends
to that which is far sweeter in it; but hin-
ders and abates it, viz., those pious and de-
vout thoughts, that are both the more useful
and truly delightful.
As peace is a choice blessing, so this is the
choicest peace, and is the peculiar insepara-
ble effect of this grace with which it is here
jointly wished—grace and peace; the flower
of peace growing upon the root of grace ;
This spiriual peace hath two things in it.
1. Reconciliation with God. 2. Tranquillity
of spirit. The quarrel and matter of enmity,
you know, betwixt God and man, is the re-
bellion, the sin of man; and he being natur-
ally altogether sinful, there can proceed noth-
ing from him, but what foments and increas-
es the hostility. It is grace alone, the most
free grace of God, that contrives, and offers,
and makes the peace, else it had never been ;
we had universally perished without it.
Now in this consists the wonder of Divine
grace, that the Almighty God seeks agree-
ment, and entreats for it, with sinful clay,
which he could wholly destroy in a moment.
Jesus Christ, the Mediator and purchaser
of this peace, bought it with his blood, kill-
ed the enmity by his own death, Eph. ii. 15.
And therefore the tenor of it in the gospel
runs still in his name (Rom. v. 1): We have
peace with God through Jesus Christ our
Lord ; and St. Paul expresses it in his salu-
tations, which are the same with this, Grace
and peace from God the Father, and our
Lord Jesus Christ.
As the free love and grace of God appoint-
ed this means and way of our peace, and of-
fered it—So the same grace applies it, and
makes it ours, and gives us faith to appre-
hend it.
And from our sense of this peace, or rec-
oncilement with God, arises that which is
our inward peace, a calm and quiet temper
of mind. This peace which we have with
God in Christ, is inviolable ; but because the
sense and persuasion of it may be interrupt-
ed, the soul that is truly at peace with God
may for a time be disquieted in itself, through
weakness of faith, or the strength of tempt-
ation, or the darkness of desertion, losing
sight of that grace, that love and light of
God’s countenance, on which its tranquillity
and joy depend. Thou didst hide thy face,
saith David, and I was troubled. But when
these eclipses are over, the soul is revived
with new consolation, as the face of the
earth is renewed and made to smile with the
return of the sun in the spring ; and this
ought alway to uphold Christians in the sad-
dest times, viz., that the grace and love of
God toward them depend not on their sense,
nor upon anything in them, but is still in it-
self incapable of the smallest alteration.
It is natural to men to desire their own
peace, the quietness and contentment of their
minds: but most men miss the way to it;
and therefore find it not ; for there is no way
to it, indeed, but this one, wherein few seek
it, viz., reconcilement and peace with God.
The persuasion of that alone makes the
mind clear and serene, like your fairest sum-
mer days. My peace I give you, saith Christ,
not as the world. Let not your hearts be
troubled. All the peace and favor of the
world can not calm a troubled heart ; but
where this peace is which Christ gives, all
the trouble and disquiet of the world can not
disturb it. When he giveth quietness, who
then can make trouble 2 and when he hideth
his face, who then can behold him # whether it
be done against a nation or against a man
only. (See also for this, Psalms xlvi., czziii.)
All outward distress to a mind thus at peace,
74
[CHAP. I.
A COMIMIENTARY UPON THE
is but as the rattling of the hail upon the
tiles, to him that sits within the house at a
Sumptuous feast. A good conscience is styl-
ed a feast, and with an advantage which no
other feast can have, nor, were it possible,
could men endure it. A few hours of feast-
ing will weary the most professed epicure;
but a conscience thus at peace, is a contin-
wal feast, with continual unwearied delight.
What makes the world take up such a preju-
dice against religion as a sour unpleasant
thing 2 They see the afflictions and griefs
of Christians, but they do not see their joys,
the inward pleasure of mind that they can
possess in a very hard estate. Have you not
tried other ways enough 2 Hath not he tried
them who had more ability and skill for it
than you, and found them not only vanity but
vewation of spirit £. If you have any belief
of holy truth, put but this once upon the tri-
al, seek peace in the way of grace. This
inward peace is too precious a liquor to be
poured into a filthy vessel. A holy heart,
that gladly entertains grace, shall find that
it and peace can not dwell asunder.
An ungodly man may sleep to death in the
lethargy of carnal presumption and impeni-
tency ; but a true, lively, solid peace, he can
not have. There is no peace to the wicked,
saith my God, Isa. lvii. 21. And if he say
there is none, speak peace who will, if all
the world with one voice should speak it, it
shall prove none.
2dly. Consider the measure of the apos-
tle's desire for his scattered brethren, that
this grace and peace may be multiplied.
This the apostle wishes for them, knowing
the imperfection of the graces and peace of
the saints while they are here below ; and
this they themselves, under a sense of that
imperfection, ardently desire. They that
have tasted the sweetness of this grace and
peace, call incessantly for more. This is a
disease in earthly desires, and a disease in-
curable by all the things desired; there is no
satisfaction attainable by them ; but this av-
arice of spiritual things is a virtue, and by
our Savior is called blessedness, because it
tends to fulness and satisfaction. Blessed
are they that hunger and thirst after right-
eousness, for they shall be filled.
VER. 3. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord
Jesus Christ, who according to his abundant mer-
cy, hath begotten us again unto a lively hope, by
the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.
VER. 4. To an inheritance incorruptible, and unde-
filed, and that fadeth not away.
IT is a cold lifeless thing to speak of spiritual
things upon mere report: but they that speak
of them as their own, as having share and
interest in them, and some experience of
their sweetness, their discourse of them is
enlivened with firm belief, and ardent affec-
tion; they can not mention them, but their
hearts are straight taken with such gladness,
as they are forced to vent in praises. Thus
our apostle here, and St. Paul, and often
elsewhere, when they considered these things
where with they were about to comfort the
godly to whom they wrote, they were sud-
denly elevated with the joy of them, and
broke forth into thanksgiving ; so teaching
us, by their example, what real joy there is
in the consolations of the Gospel, and what
praise is due from all the saints to the God
of those consolations. This is such an in-
heritance, that the very thoughts and hopes
of it are able to sweeten the greatest grief
and afflictions. What then shall the posses-
sion of it be, wherein there shall be no rup-
ture, nor the least drop of any grief at all?
The main subject of these verses is, that
which is the main comfort that supports the
spirits of the godly in all conditions.
1. Their after inheritance, as in the 4th
verse. 2dly, Their present title to it, and
assured hope of it, ver. 3. , 3dly, The imme-
diate cause of both assigned, viz., Jesus Christ.
4thly, All this derived from the free mercy
of God, as the first and highest cause, and
returned to his praise and glory as the last
and highest end of it.
For the first : The inheritance. [But be-
cause the 4th verse, which describes it, is
linked with the subsequent, we will not go
so far off to return back again, but first speak
to this 3d verse, and in it.]
Consider 1. Their title to this inheritance,
begotten again; 2. Their assurance of it,
viz., a holy or lively hope.
The title which the saints have to their
rich inheritance is of the validest and most
unquestionable kind, viz., by birth. Not by
their first natural birth ; but that we are all
born indeed, but we find what it is (Ephes.
ii. 3), children of wrath, heirs apparent of
eternal flames. It is an everlasting inherit-
ance too, but so much the more fearful, be-
ing of everlasting misery, or (so to speak)
of immortal death; and we are made sure to
it, they who remain in that condition can
not lose their right, although they gladly
would escape it ; they shall be forced to en-
ter possession. But it is by a new and super-
natural birth that men are both freed from
their engagement to that woful inheritance,
and invested into the rights of this other
here mentioned, which is as full of happi-
ness as the former is miserable: therefore
are they said here to be begotten again to
that lively hope. God, the Father of our
Lord Jesus Christ, hath begotten us again.
And thus the regenerate are the children of
an immortal Father, and, as such, entitled
to an inheritance of immortality. If chil
dren, then heirs, heirs of God ; and this son
ship is by adoption in Christ; therefore it is
added, Joint heirs with Christ, Rom. viii. 17.
We adopted children, and he the only begot-
ten Son of God by an eternal, ineffable gen-
eration.
And yet, this our adoption is not a mere
extrinsical denomination, as is adoption
among men; but is accompanied with a real
WER. 3, 4.]
75
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
change in those that are adopted, a new na-
ture and spirit being infused into them, by
reason of which, as they are adopted to this
their inheritance in Christ, they are likewise
begotten of God, and born again to it, by the
supernatural work of regeneration. They
are like their heavenly Father; they have
his image renewed on their souls, and their
Father's spirit; they have it, and are actua-
ted and led by it. This is that great mystery
of the kingdom of God which puzzled Nico-
demus; it was darkness to him at first, till
he was instructed in that night, under the
covert whereof he came to Christ.
Nature can not conceive of any generation
or birth, but that which is within its own
compass : only they who are partakers of
this spiritual birth understand what it means;
to others it is a riddle, an unsavory, unpleas-
ant subject.
It is sometimes ascribed to the subordinate
means;–to baptism, called therefore the
laver of regeneration, Titus iii. 5; to the
word of God, James i. 18; it is that immor-
tal seed, whereby we are born again; to the
ministers of his word, and the seals of it, as
1 Cor. iv. 15. For though you have ten
thousand instructers in Christ, yet have ye
not many fathers ; for in Christ Jesus have I
begotten you through the gospel; as also Gal.
iv. 19. But all these means have their vigor
and efficacy in this great work from the
Father of spirits, who is their Father in their
first creation, and infusion, and in this their
regeneration, which is a new and second cre-
ation, If any man be in Christ he is a new
creature, 2 Cor. v. 17.
Divines have reason to infer from the na-
ture of conversion thus expressed, that man
doth not bring anything to this work him-
self. It is true he hath a will, as his natural
faculty ; but that this will embraces the offer
of grace, and turns to him that offers it, is
from renewing grace, which sweetly and yet
strongly, strongly yet sweetly, inclines it.
1. Nature can not raise itself to this any
more than a man can give natural being to
himself. 2. It is not a superficial change;
it is a new life and being. A moral man in
his changes and reformations of himself, is
still the same man. Though he reform so
far, as that men, in their ordinary phrase,
shall call him quite another man, yet, in
truth, till he be born again, there is no new
nature in him. The sluggard turns on his
bed as the door on the hinges, says Solomon.
Thus the natural man turns from one custom
and posture to another, but never turns off.
But the Christian, by virtue of this new birth,
can say indeed, Ego non sum ego, I am not
the same man I was.
You that are nobles, aspire to this honora-
ble condition; add this nobleness to the other,
for it far surpasses it; make it the crown of
all your honors and advantages. And you
that are of mean birth, or if you have any
stain on your birth, the only way to make up
and repair all, and truly to ennoble you, is
this—to be the sons of a king, yea, of the
king of kings, and this honor have all his
saints. To as many as received him, he gave
this privilege to be the sons of God, John i. 12.
Unto a lively hope.] Now are we the sons
of God, saith the apostle (1 John iii. 2), but
it doth not yet appear what we shall be. These
sons are heirs, but all this lifetime is their
minority; yet, even now, being partakers of
this new birth and sonship, they have a right
to it, and in the assurance of that right, this
living hope ; as an heir, when he is capable
of those thoughts, hath not only right of in-
heritance, but may rejoice in the hope he
hath of it, and please himself in thinking of
it. But hope is said to be only in respect of an
uncertain good : true, in the world’s phrase,
it is so ; for their hope is conversant in uncer-
tain things, or in things that may be certain,
after an uncertain manner; all their worldly
hopes are tottering, built upon sand, and their
hopes of heaven are but blind and ground-
less conjectures; but the hope of the sons of
the living God is a living hope. That which
Aiexander said when he dealt liberally about
him, that he left hope to himself, the children
of God may more wisely and happily say,
when they leave the hot pursuit of the world
to others, and despise it ; their portion is
hope. The thread of Alexander’s life was
cut off in the midst of his victories, and so
all his hopes vanished; but their hope can
not die nor disappoint them.
But then it is said to be lively not only ob-
jectively but effectively; enlivening and com-
forting the children of God in all distresses,
enabling them to encounter and surmount all
difficulties in the way. And then it is for-
mally so; it can not fail—dies not before ac-
complishment. Worldly hopes often mock
men, and so cause them to be ashamed ; and
men take it as a great blot, and are most of
all ashamed of those things that discover
weakness of judgment in them. Now worldly
hopes do thus—they put the fool upon a man:
when he hath judged himself sure, and laid
so much weight and expectation on them,
then they break and foil him: they are not
living, but lying hopes, and dying hopes;
they die often before us, and we live to bury
them, and see our own folly and infelicity in
trusting to them; but at the utmost, they die
with us when we die, and can accompany us
no further. But this hope answers expecta-
tion to the full, and much beyond it, and de-
ceives no way but in that happy way of far
exceeding it.
A living hope—living in death itself! The
world dares say no more for its device, than
Dum spiro spero ; but the children of God
can add by virtue of this living hope, JDum
easpiro spero. It is a fearful thing when a
man and all his hopes die together. Thus
saith Solomon of the wicked, Prov. xi. 7 :
When he dieth, then die his hopes (many
of them before, but at the utmost then, all of
76
LCHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
them); but the righteous hath hope in his
death, Prov. xiv. 32. Death, which cuts the
sinews of all other hopes, and turns men out
of all other inheritances, alone fulfils this
hope, and ends it in fruition ; as a messenger
sent to bring the children of God home to
the possession of their inheritance.
By the resurrection of Jesus Christ from
the dead..] This refers both to begotten again
by his resurrection, and having this living
hope by his resurrection: and well suits both,
it being the proper cause of both in this or-
der. First, then, of the birth ; next, of the
hope.
The image of God is renewed in us by Our
union with Him who is the ea press image of
his Father's person, Heb. i. 3. Therefore
this new birth in the conception, is express-
ed by the forming of Christ in the soul, Gal.
iv. 19 ; and his resurrection particularly is
assigned as the cause of our new life. This
new birth is called our resurrection, and that
in conformity to Christ, yea, by the virtue
and influence of his. His resurrection is
called a birth, he the first begotten from the
dead, Rev. i. 5; and that prophecy, Thou art
my Son, this day have I begotten thee, Psal.
ii. 7, is applied to his resurrection as fulfilled
in it, Acts xiii. 33. God hath fulfilled the
same unto us their children, in that he hath
raised up Jesus again ; as it is also written
in the second Psalm, Thou art my Son, this
day have I begotten thee. Not only is it the
exemplar, but the efficient cause of our new
birth. Thus, in the sixth chapter of Ro-
mans, at large, and often elsewhere.
And thus likewise it is the cause of our
living hope—that which indeed inspires and
maintains life in it. Because he hath con-
quered death, and is risen again, and that is
implied which followeth, he is set down at
the right hand of God, hath entered into pos-
session of that inheritance;—this gives us a
living hope, that, according to his own re-
quest, where he as there we may be also. Thus
this hope is strongly underset, on the one
side, by the resurrection of Christ; On the
other, by the abundant mercy of God the
Father. Our hope depends not on our own
strength or wisdom, nor on anything in us
(for if it did, it would be short-lived, would
die, and die quickly); but on his resurrection
who can die no more : for in that he died, he
died unto sin once ; but in that he liveth, he
liveth unto God, Rom. vi. 10. This makes
this hope not to imply, in the notion of it,
uncertainty, as worldly hopes do; but it is a
firm, stable, inviolable hope, an anchor fived
within the veil.
According to his abundant mercy.] Mercy
is the spring of all this; yea, great mercy,
and manifold mercy: “for,” as St. Bernard
saith, “great sins and great miseries need
great mercy, and many sins and miseries
need many mercies.” And is not this great
mercy, to make of Satan's slaves, sons of the
most High 2 Well may the apostle say,
Behold what manner of love, and how great
love the Father hath showed us, that we should
be called the sons of God!—The world knows
us not because it knew not him. They that
have not seen the father of a child can not
know that it resembles him ; thus the world
knows not God, and therefore discerns not
his image in his children so as to esteem
them for it. But whatever be their opinion,
this we must say ourselves, Behold what
manner of love is this to take firebrands of
hell, and to appoint them to be one day
brighter than the sun in the firmament; to
raise the poor out of the dunghill, and set
them with princes, Psalm criii. 7, 8.
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord
Jesus Christ.] Here, lastly, we see it stirs up
the apostle to praise the God and Father of
our Lord Jesus Christ. This is the style of
the gospel—as formerly, under the law, it
was the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,
and the God that brought thee up out of the
land of Egypt, &c. This now is the order
of the government of grace, that it holds
first with Christ our Head and in him with
us. So he says, I go to my Father and your
Father, and my God and your God ; which,
as St. Cyril of Jerusalem, in his Catechism,
observes, shows us not only our communion
with him—that might have been expressed
thus, I go to my God and Father—but the
order of the covenant, first my Father and
my God, and then yours. Thus ought we,
in our consideration of the mercies of God,
still to take in Christ, for in him they are con-
veyed to us: thus (Eph. i. 3), With all spirit-
ual blessings in Christ Jesus.
Blessed.] He blesseth us really: benefaci-
endo benedicit. We bless him by acknowl-
edging his goodness. And this we ought to
do at all times, Psal. xxxiv. 1: I will bless
the Lord at all times, his praise shall contin-
ually be in my mouth. Åſ this is far below
him and his mercies. What are our lame
praises in comparison of his love? Nothing,
and less than nothing ; but love will stam-
mer, rather than be dumb. They who are
among his children begotten again, have, in
the resurrection of Christ, a lively hope of
glory: as it is, Col. i. 27, Which is Christ in
you, the hope of glory. This leads them to
observe and admire that rich mercy whence
it flows; and this consideration awakes them,
and constrains them to break forth into
praises.
To an inheritance incorruptible.] As he that
taketh away a garment in cold weather, and
as vinegar upon nitre, so is he that singeth
songs to a heavy heart. Prov. xxy. 20.
Worldly mirth is so far from curing spiritual
grief, that even worldly grief, where it is
great and takes deep root, is not allayed but
increased by it. A man who is full of in-
ward heaviness, the more he is encompassed
about with mirth, it exasperates and enrages
his grief the more; like ineffectual weak
physic, which removes not the humor, but
WER. 3, 4.]
77
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
stirs it and makes it more unquiet; but spir-
itual joy is seasonable for all estates: in pros-
perity, it is pertinent to crown and sanctify
all other enjoyments, with this which so far
surpasses them; and in distress, it is the only
Nepenthe, the cordial of fainting spirits: so,
Psal. iv. 7, He hath put joy into my heart.
This mirth makes way for itself, which other
mirth can not do. These songs are sweetest
in the night of distress. Therefore the apos-
tle, writing to his scattered afflicted brethren,
begins his epistle with this song of praise,
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord
Jesus Christ.
The matter of this joy is, the joyful re-
membrance of the happiness laid up for them,
under the name of inheritance. Now this in-
heritance is described by the singular quali-
ties of it, viz., 1. The excellency of its na-
ture ; 2. The certainty of its attainment.
The former is conveyed in these three, incor-
ruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away;
the latter, in the last words of this verse and
in the verse following: Reserved in heaven
for you, &c.
God is bountiful to all—gives to all men all
that they have, health, riches, honor, strength,
beauty, and wit ; but these things he scatters
(as it were) with an indifferent hand. Upon
others he looks as well as upon his beloved
children; but the inheritance is peculiarly
theirs. Inheritance is convertible with son-
ship ; Abraham gave gifts to Keturah's sons,
and dismissed them, Gen. xxv. 5; but the in-
heritance was for the Son of the Promise.
When we see a man rising in preferment or
estate, or admired for excellent gifts and en-
dowments of mind, we think there is a happy
man ; but we consider not that none of all
those things are matter of inheritance; with-
in awhile he is to be turned out of all, and if
he have not somewhat beyond all those to
look to, he is but a miserable man, and so
much the more miserable, that once he seem-
ed and was reputed happy. There is a cer-
tain time wherein heirs come to possess:
thus it is with this inheritance too. There
is mention made by the apostle of a perfect
man—unto the measure of the stature of the
fulness of Christ, Eph. iv., 13. And though
the inheritance is rich and honorable, yet the
heir, being young, is held under discipline,
and is more strictly dealt with, possibly, than
the servants — sharply corrected for that
which is let pass in them ; but still, even
then, in regard of that which he is born to,
his condition is much better than theirs, and
all the correction he suffers prejudices him
not, but fits him for inheriting. The love of
our heavenly Father is beyond the love of
mothers in tenderness, and yet beyond the
love of fathers (who are usually said to love
more wisely) in point of wisdom. He will
not undo his children, his heirs, with too
much indulgence. It is one of his heavy
judgments upon the foolish children of diso-
bedience, that Ease shall slay them, and their
prosperity shall prove their destruction.
While the children of God are childish
and weak in faith, they are like some great
heirs before they come to years of under-
standing: they consider not their inheritance,
and what they are to come to, have not their
spirits elevated to thoughts worthy of their
estate, and their behavior conformed to it;
but as they grow up in years, they come, by
little and little, to be sensible of those things,
and the nearer they come to possession, the
more apprehensive they are of their quality,
and of what doth answerably become them
to do. And this is the duty of such as are
indeed heirs of glory ;-to grow in the un-
derstanding and consideration of that which
is prepared for them, and to suit themselves,
as they are able, to those great hopes. This
is what the apostle St. Paul prays for, on
behalf of his Ephesians, chap. i. 18. The
eyes of your understanding being enlighten-
ed, that ye may know what is the hope of his
calling, and what the riches of the glory of
his inheritance in the Saints. This would
make them holy and heavenly, to have their
conversation in heaven, from whence they
look for a Savior. That we may, then, the
better know somewhat of the dignity and
riches of this inheritance, let us consider the
description which is here given us of it. And,
first, it is -
Incorruptible.] Although this seems to be
much the same with the third quality, that
fadeth not away (which is a borrowed ex-
pression for the illustrating of its incorrupti-
bleness), yet, I conceive that there is some
difference, and that in these three qualities
there is a gradation. Thus it is called incor-
ruptible ; that is, it perisheth not, can not
come to nothing, is an estate that can not be
spent; but though it were abiding, yet it
might be such as that the continuance of it
were not very desirable; it would be but a
misery at best, to continue always in this life.
Plotinus thanked God that his soul was not
tied to an immortal body. Then, undefiled ;
it is not stained with the least spot: this sig-
nifies the purity and perfection of it, as that
the perpetuity of it. It doth not only abide,
and is pure, but both together, it abideth al-
ways in its integrity. And lastly, it fadeth
not away; it doth not fade nor wither at all,
is not sometimes more, sometimes less pleas-
ant, but ever the same, still like itself; and
this constitutes the immutability of it.
As it is incorruptible, it carries away the
palm from all earthly possessions and inher-
itances; for all those epithets are intended
to signify its opposition to the things of this
world, and to show how far it excels them
all ; and in this comparative light we are to
consider it. For as divines say of the knowl-
edge of God which we have here, that the
negative notion makes up a great part of it—
we know rather what he is not than what
he is, infinite, incomprehensible, immutable,
&c.; so it is of this happiness, this inheri-
tance; and indeed it is no other than God.
We can not tell you what it is, but we can
78
[CHAP. l.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
say so far what it is not, as declares it is un-
speakably above all the most excellent things
of the inferior world and this present life.
It is by privatives, by removing imperfections
from it, that we describe it, and we can go
no farther than this—Incorruptible, undefiled,
and that fadeth not away.
All things that we see, being compounded,
may be dissolved again. The very visible
heavens, which are the purest piece of the
material world (notwithstanding the pains
the philosopher takes to exempt them), the
Scriptures teach us that they are corruptible,
Psal. cii. 26. They shall perish, but thou
shalt endure ; yea, all of them shall war old
dike a garment ; as a vesture shalt thou
change them, and they shall be changed. And
from thence the apostle to the Hebrews, ch.
i. 10, and our apostle, in his other epis-
tle, ch. iii. 11, use the same expression.
But it is needless to fetch too great a compass,
to evince the corruptibleness of all inheri-
tances. , Besides what they are in them-
selves, it is a shorter way to prove them cor-
ruptible in relation to us and our possessing
them, by our own corruptibleness and cor-
ruption, or perishing out of this life in which
we enjoy them. We are here inter peritura
perituri; the things are passing which we
enjoy, and we are passing who enjoy them.
An earthly inheritance is so called in regard
of succession; but to every one it is at the
most but for term of life. As one of the
kings of Spain replied to one of his courtiers,
Who, thinking to please his master, wished
that kings were immortal; If that had been,
said he, I should never have been king.
When death comes that removes a man out
of all his possessions to give place to another;
therefore are these inheritances decaying and
dying in relation to us, because we decay and
die; and when a man dies, his inheritances
and honors, and all things here, are at an
end, in respect of him; yea, we may say the
world ends to him.
Thus Solomon reasons, that a man's hap-
piness can not be upon this earth ; because
it must be some durable, abiding thing that
must make him happy—abiding, to wit, in
his enjoyment. Now, though the earth abide,
yet, because man abides not on the earth to
possess it, but one age drives out another,
One generation passeth, and another cometh,
velut unda impellitur unda, therefore, his rest
and his happiness can not be here.
Undefiled.] All possessions here are defiled
and stained with many other defects and
failings—still somewhat wanting, some damp
on them or crack in them ; fair houses, but
sad cares flying about the gilded and ceiled
roofs; stately and soft beds, and a full table,
but a sickly body and queasy stomach. As
the fairest face has some mole or wart in it,
so all possessions are stained with sin, either
in acquiring or in using them, and therefore
they are called, mammon of unrighteousness,
Luke xvi. 9. Iniquity is so involved in the
notion of riches, that it can very hardly be
separated from them. St. Jerome says, Ver-
um mihi videtºur illud, dives aut iniquus est,
aut iniqui haºres: To me it appears, that he
who is rich is either himself an unjust man
or the heir of one. Foul hands pollute all
they touch ; it is our sin that defiles what
we possess; it is sin that burdens the whole
creation, and presses groans out of the very
frame of the world, Rom. viii. 22. For we
know that the whole creation groaneth and
travaileth in pain together until now. This
our leprosy defiles our houses, the very walls
and floors, our meat and drink and all we
touch, polluted when alone, and polluted in
Society, our meetings and conversations to-
gether being for the greatest part nothing but
a commerce and interchange of sin and vanity.
We breathe up and down in an infected
air, and are very receptive of the infection
by our own corruption within us. We read-
ily turn the things we possess here to occa-
sions and instruments of sin, and think there
is no liberty nor delight in their use without
abusing them. How few are they who can
carry (as they say) a full cup even ; who can
have digestion strong enough for the right
use of great places and estates: who can
bear preferment without pride, and riches
without covetousness, and ease without wan-
tonness
Then, as these earthly inheritances are
stained with sin in their use, so what grief,
and strife, and contentions about obtaining
or retaining them | Doth not the matter of
possession, this same meum and tuum, divide
many times the affections of those who are
knit together in nature, or other strict ties,
and prove the very apple of strife betwixt
nearest friends 2
If we trace great estates to their first origi-
mal, how few will be found that owe not their
beginning either to fraud, or rapine, or op-
pression and the greatest empires and king-
doms in the world have had their foundations
laid in blood. Are not these defiled inheri-
tances?
That withcreth not..] A borrowed phrase,
alluding to the decaying of plants and flow-
ers, which bud and flourish at a certain time
of the year, and then fade and wither, and
in winter are as if they were dead.
And this is the third disadvantage of pos-
sessions and all things worldly, that they
abide not in one estate, but are in a more un-
certain and irregular inconstancy than either
the flowers and plants of the field, or the
moon, from which they are called sublunary;
like Nebuchadnezzar's image, degenerating
by degrees into baser metals, and, in the end,
into a mixture of iron and clay.
The excellency, then, of this inheritance,
is, that it is free from all those evils. It falls
not under the stroke of time, comes not with-
in the compass of its scythe, which hath so
large a compass, and cuts down all other
things.
WER. 5.]
79
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
There is nothing in it weighing it toward
corruption. It is immortal, everlasting ; for
it is the fruition of the immortal everlasting
God, by immortal souls; and the body joined
with it, shall likewise be immortal, having
put on incorruption, as the apostle speaks,
1 Cor. xv. 54.
It fadeth not away.] No spot of sin nor
sorrow there; all pollution wiped away, and
all tears with it; no envy nor strife; not as
here among men, one supplanting another,
one pleading and fighting against another,
dividing this point of earth with fire and
sword;—no, this inheritance is not the less
by division, by being parted among so many
brethren, every one hath it all, each his
crown, and all agreeing in casting them down
before his throne, from whom they have
received them, and in the harmony of his
praises.
This inheritance is often called a kingdom,
and a crown of glory. This last word may
allude to those garlands of the ancients; and
this is its property, that the flowers in it are
all amaranthes |. a certain plant is named),
and so it is called (1 Pet. v. 4), A crown of
glory that fadeth not away.
No change at all there, no winter and sum-
mer: not like the poor comforts here, but a
bliss always flourishing. The grief of the
saints here, is not so much for the changes
of outward things, as of their inward com-
forts. Suavis hora, sed brevis mora. Sweet
presences of God they sometimes have, but
they are short, and often interrupted ; but
there no cloud shall come betwixt them and
their sun; they shall behold him in his full
brightness for ever. As there shall be no
change in their beholding, so no weariness
nor abatement of their delight in beholding.
They sing a new song, always the same, and
yet always new. The sweetest of our music,
if it were to be heard but for one whole day,
would weary them who are most delighted
with it. What we have here cloys, but sat-
isfies not: the joys above never cloy, and yet
always satisfy.
We should here consider the last property
of this inheritance, namely, the certainty of
it—Reserved in heaven for you ; but that is
connected with the following verse, and so
will be fitly joined with it. Now for some
use of all this.
If these things were believed, they would
persuade for themselves; we should not need
add any entreaties to move you to seek after
this inheritance. Have we not experience
enough of the vanity and misery of things
corruptible 2 and are not a great part of our
days already spent among them ? Is it not
time to consider whether we be provided
with anything surer and better than what we
have here ; whether we have any inheritance
to go home to after our wandering 3 or can
say with the apostle (2 Cor. v. 1), We know
that if our earthly house of this tabernacle
were dissolved, we have a building of God,
an house not made with hands, eterna? in the
heavens.
If these things gain our assent while we
hear them, yet it dies soon. Scarcely any
retire within themselves afterward to pursue
those thoughts, and to make a work indeed
of them ; they busy their heads rather an-
other way, building castles in the air, and
spinning out their thoughts in vain contri-
vances. Happy are they whose hearts the
Spirit of God sets and fixes upon this inher-
itance : they may join in with the apostle,
and say, as here, Blessed be the God and Fa-
ther of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath be-
gotten us again unto this lively hope, to this
wnheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that
fadeth not away.
VER. 5. Who are kept by the power of God, through
faith, unto salvation, ready to be revealed in the
last time.
IT is doubtless a great contentment to the
children of God, to hear of the excellences
of the life to come ; they do not use to be-
come weary of that subject ; yet there is
one doubt, which, if it be not removed, may
damp their delight in hearing and consider-
ing of all the rest. The richer the estate is,
it will the more kindle the malice and dili-
gence of their enemies to deprive them of
it, and to cut them short of possessing it.
And this they know, that those spiritual pow-
ers who seek to ruin them, do overmatch
them far, both in craft and force.
Against the fears of this, the apostle com-
forts the heirs of salvation, assuring them,
that, as the estate they look for is excellent,
so it is certain and safe, laid up where it is
out of the reach of all adverse powers, re-
served in heaven for you. Besides that this
is a further evidence of the worth and excel-
lency of this inheritance, it makes it sure.
It confirms what was said of its excellency;
for it must be a thing of greatest worth, that
is laid up in the highest and best place of
the world, namely, in heaven for you, where
nothing that is impure once enters, much
less is laid up and kept. Thus, the land
where this inheritance lies, makes good all
that hath been spoken of the dignity and
riches of it.
But further, as it is a rich and pleasant
country where it lieth, it hath also this priv-
ilege, to be the only land of rest and peace,
free from all possibility of invasion. There
is no spoiling of it, and laying it waste, and
defacing its beauty, by leading armies into
it, and making it the seat of war; no noise
of drums or trumpets, no inundations of one
people driving out another and sitting down
in their possessions. In a word, there is
nothing there subject to decay of itself, so
neither is it in danger of fraud or violence.
When our Savior speaks of this same hap-
piness, in a like term, Matt. vi. 20, what is
here called an inheritance, is there called a
treasure. He expresses the permanency of
80
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
it by these two, that it hath neither moth nor
rust in itself to corrupt it, nor can thieves
break through and steal it. There is a worm
at the root of all our enjoyments here, cor-
rupting causes within themselves; and be-
sides that, they are exposed to injury from
without, which may deprive us of them.
How many stately palaces, which have been
possibly divers years in building, hath fire
upon a very small beginning destroyed in a
few hours! What great hopes of gain by
traffic hath one tempest mocked and disap-
pointed . How many who have thought
their possessions very sure, yet have lost
them by some trick of law, and others (as in
time of war) been driven from them by the
sword | Nothing free from all danger but
this inheritance, which is laid up in the
hands of God, and kept in heaven for us.
The highest stations in the world, namely,
the estate of kings, they are but mountains
of prey, one robbing and spoiling another;
but in that holy mountain above, there is
none to hurt, or spoil, or offer violence.
What the prophet speaks of the church
here, is more perfectly and eminently true of
it above, Isaiah lxv. 25.
This is, indeed, a necessary condition of
our joy in the thoughts of this happy estate,
that we have some persuasion of our pro-
priety, that it is ours ; that we do not speak
and hear of it, as travellers passing by a
pleasant place do behold and discourse of its
fair structure, the sweetness of the seat, the
planting, the gardens, the meadows that are
about it, and so pass on ; having no further
interest in it. But when we hear of this glo-
rious inheritance, this treasure, this kingdom
that is pure, and rich, and lasting, we may
add, it is mine, it is reserved in heaven, and
reserved for me ; I have received the eviden-
ces and the earnest of it; and, as it is kept
safe for me, so I shall likewise be preserved
to it, and that is the other part of the cer-
tainty that completes the comforts of it.
Ephes. i. 14.
The salvation which Christ hath purchas-
ed is, indeed, laid up in heaven, but we who
seek after it, are on earth, compassed about
with dangers and temptations. What avails
it us, that our salvation is in heaven, in the
place of safety and quietness, while we our-
selves are tossed upon the stormy seas of
this world, amidst rocks and shelves, every
hour in danger of shipwreck 2 Our inherit-
ance is in a sure hand indeed, our enemies
can not come at it ; but they may over-run
and destroy us at their pleasure, for we are
in the midst of them. Thus might we think
and complain, and lose the sweetness of all
our other thoughts concerning heaven, if
there were not as firm a promise for our own
safety in the midst of our dangers, as there
is of the safety of our inheritance that is out
of danger.
The assurance is full, thus; it is kept for us
in heaven, and we kept on earth for it: as it
is reserved for us, we are no less surely pre-
served to it. There is here, 1. The estate
itself, salvation. , 2. The preservation, or se-
curing, of those that expect it, kept. 3. The
time of full possession, in the last time.
1. The estate—unto salvation. Before it
is called an inheritance ; here we are more
particularly told what is meant by that,
namely, salvation. This is more expressly
sure, being a deliverance from misery, and it
imports, withal, the possession of perfect
happiness. The first part of our happiness
is, to be freed from those miseries to which
we are subject by our guiltiness; to be set
free, 1. From the curse of the law, and the
wrath of God, from everlasting death. 2. From
all kind of mortality and decaying. 3. From
all power and stain of sin. 4. From all
temptation. 5. From all the griefs and af.
flictions of this life. To have the perfec-
tion of grace in the fulness of holiness, and
the perfection of bliss in the fulness of joy,
in the continual vision of God —but how
little we are able to say of this, our apostle
here teacheth us, in that it is veiled to us;
only so much shines through, as we are ca-
pable of here; but the revealed knowledge
of it is only in the possession; it is to be re-
vealed in the last time.
2dly. Their preservation, with the causes
of it. Kept by the power of God through
faith. The inheritance is kept not only in
Safety, but in quietness. The children of
God, for whom it is kept, while they are
here, are kept safe indeed, but not unmo-
lested and unassaulted ; they have enemies,
and such as are stirring, and cunning, and
powerful ; but, in the midst of them, they
are guarded and defended ; they perish not,
according to the prayer of our Savior poured
out for them, John xvii. 16, I pray not that
thou shouldst take them out of the world ;
but that thou shouldst keep them from the evil.
They have the prince of the power of the
air, and all his armies, all the forces he can
make, against them. Though his power is
nothing but tyranny and usurpation, yet be-
cause once they were under his yoke, he be-
stirs himself to pursue them, when they are
led forth from their captivity, as Pharaoh,
with all his chariots and horses and horse-
men, pursues after the Israelites going out
of Egypt.
The word in the original (ºpoupovſtvo) here
translated kept, is a military term, used for
those who are kept as in a fort or garrison-
town besieged. So Satan is still raising bat-
teries against this fort, using all ways to take
it, by strength or stratagem, unwearied in
his assaults, and very skilful to know his ad-
vantages, and where we are weakest, there
to set on. And besides all this, he hath in-
telligence with a party within us, ready to
betray us to him ; so that it were impossible
for us to hold out, were there not another
watch and guard than our own, and other
walls and bulwarks than any that our skill
WER. 5.]
81
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
and industry can raise for our own defence.
In this, then, is our safety, that there is a
power above our own, yea and above all our
enemies, that guards us, salvation itself our
walls and bulwarks. We ought to watch,
but when we do so in obedience to our com-
mander, the captain of our salvation, yet it
is his own watching, who sleeps not, nor so
much as slumbers, it is that preserves us,
and makes ours not to be in vain. Psal. cxxvi.
1 ; Isa. xxvii. 3. And therefore those two
are jointly commanded, Watch and pray that
ye enter not into temptation. Watch, there
is the necessity of our diligence ; pray, there
is the insufficiency of it, and the necessity
of his watching, by whose power we are ef-
fectually preserved, and that power is our
fort. Isa. xxvi. 1, Salvation hath God ap-
pointed for walls and bulwarks. What more
safe than to be walled with salvation itself.
So, Prov. xviii. 10, The name of the Lord is
a strong tower ; the righteous fly into it and
are safe.
Now the causes of our preservation are
two, 1. Supreme, the power of God. 2. Sub-
ordinate, faith. The supreme power of God,
is that on which depend our stability and
perseverance. When we consider how weak
we are in ourselves, yea, the very strongest
among us, and how assaulted, we wonder,
and justly we may, that any can continue one
day in the state of grace : but when we
look on the strength by which we are guard-
ed, the power of God, then we see the rea-
son of our stability to the end ; for omipo-
tency supports us, and the everlasting arms
are under us.
Then faith is the second cause of our pres-
ervation : because it applies the first cause,
the power of God. Our faith lays hold up-
on this power, and this power strengthens
faith, and so we are preserved; it puts us
within those walls, sets the soul within the
guard of the power of God, which, by self-
confidence and vain presuming in its own
strength, is exposed to all kind of danger.
Faith is an humble self-denying grace; it
makes the Christian nothing in himself and
all in God.
The weakest persons who are within a
strong place, women and children, though
they were not able to resist the enemy, if
they were alone, yet so long as the place
wherein, they are is of sufficient strength,
and well manned, and every way accommo-
date to hold out, they are in safety ; thus the
weakest believer is safe, because by believ-
ing he is within the strongest of all defences.
Faith is the victory, and Christ sets his
strength against Satan's ; and when the
Christian is hard beset with some tempta-
tion, too strong for himself, then he looks up
to Him who is the great conqueror of the
Owers of darkness, and calls to him, “Now,
ord, assist thy servant in this encounter,
and put to thy strength, that the glory may
be thine.” Thus, faith is such an engine as
draws in the power of God and his Son Je-
sus into the works and conflicts that it hath
in hand. This is our victory, even our faith.
1 John v. 4.
It is the property of a good Christian to
magnify the power of God, and to have high
thoughts of it, and therefore it is his privi-
lege to find safety in that power. David can
not satisfy himself with one or two expres-
sions of it, but delights in multiplying them.
Psalm xviii. 1, The Lord is my rock, and
my fortress, and my deliverer 5 my God, my
strength, in whom I will trust ; my buckler,
and the horn of my salvation, and my high
tower. Faith looks above all, both that
which the soul hath, and that which it wants,
and answers all doubts and fears with this
almighty power upon which it rests.
3dly. The time of full possession—ready
to be revealed in the last time. This salva-
tion is that great work wherein God intend-
ed to manifest the glory of his grace, con-
trived before time, and in the several ages
of the world brought forward, after the de-
creed manner; and the full accomplishment
of it is reserved for the end of time.
The souls of the faithful do enter into the
possession of it, when they remove from their
houses of clay ; yet is not their happiness
complete till that great day of the appear-
ing of Jesus Christ. They are naturally im-
perfect till their bodies be raised and rejoin-
ed to their souls, to partake together of their
bliss ; and they are mystically imperfect, till
all the rest of the members of Jesus Christ
be added to them.
But then shall their joy be absolutely full,
when both their own bodies, and the mysti-
cal body of Christ shall be glorified: when
all the children of that glorious family shall
meet, and sit down to that great marriage
supper at their Father’s table. Then shalk
the music of that new song be full, when
there is not one wanting of those that are
appointed to sing it for eternity. In that day
shall our Lord Jesus be glorified in his saints,
and admired in all them that believe, 2 Thess.
i. 10.
You see what it is that the gospel offers
you, and you may gather how great both
your folly and your guiltiness will be, if you
neglect and slight so great salvation when it
is brought to you, and you are entreated to
receive it. . This is all that the preaching of
the word aims at, and yet, who hearkens to
it? How few lay hold on this eternal life.
this inheritance, this crown that is held forth
to all that hear of it !
Oh that you could be persuaded to be
saved, that you would be willing to embrace
salvation | You think you would ; but if it
be so, then I may say, though you would be
saved, yet your custom of sin, your love to
sin, and love to the world, will not suffer you;
and these will still hinder you, unless you
put on holy resolutions to break through
them, and trample them under foot, and take
11
82
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
this kingdom by a hand of violence, which
God is so well pleased with. He is willingly
overcome by that force, and gives this king-
dom most willingly, where it is so taken ; it
is not attained by slothfulness, and sitting still
with folded hands; it must be invaded with
strength of faith, with armies of prayers and
tears; and they who set upon it thus are sure
to take it.
Consider what we are doing, how we mis-
place our diligence on things that abide not,
or we abide not to enjoy them. We have no
abiding city here, saith the apostle, but he
adds that which comforts the citizens of the
new Jerusalem, We look for one to come,
whose builder and maker is God. Hear not
these things idly, as if they concerned you
not, but let them move you to resolution and
actions. Say, as they said of Canaan, it is a
good land, let us go up and possess it. Learn
to use what you have here as travellers, and
let your home, your inheritance, your treas-
ure be on high, which is by far the richest
and the safest; and if it be so with you, then
Where your treasure is, there will your hearts
be also.
VER. 6. Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for
a season (if need be) ye are in heaviness through
manifold temptations.
THE same motives can not beget contrary
passions in the soul; therefore, the apostle
reduces the mixture of sorrowing and rejoi-
cing that is usual in the heart of a Christian
to the different causes of both, and shows
which of the two hath the stronger cause,
and is therefore always predominant in him
who entertains and considers it aright.
His scope is, to stir up and strengthen spir-
itual joy in his afflicted brethren ; and there-
fore having set the matter of it before them
in the preceding verses, he now applies it,
and expressly opposes it to their distresses.
Some read these words exhortatively, In
which rejoice ye. It is so intended, but I con-
ceive it serves that end better indicatively, as
we now read it, In which ye rejoice. It ex-
horts in a more insinuating and persuasive
manner, that it may be so, to urge it on them,
that it is so. Thus St. Paul, Acts xxvi. 27,
King Agrippa, believest thou the prophets 2
I know that thou believest. And straight he
answered, Thou almost persuadest me to be
a Christian. This implies how just and how
reasonable it is, that the things spoken of
should make them glad; in these they will
rejoice, yea, do rejoice. Certainly, if you
Rnow and consider what the causes of your
joy are, ye can not choose but find it within
you, and in such a measure as to swallow up
all your temporary sorrows, how great and
how many soever their causes be.
We are then to consider severally these
bitter waters and the Sweet, this sorrow and
this joy. 1. In their springs; 2. In their
tº tream S.
And first, they are called temptations, and
manifold temptations. The habits of Divine
supernatural grace are not acquirable by hu-
man study, or by industry, or by exercise;
they are of immediate infusion from heaven;
yet are they infused to the end that they may
act and exercise themselves in the several
conditions and occurrences of a Christian's life,
and by that they grow stronger. Whatsoever
oppositions or difficulties grace meets with in
its acting, go under this general name of
temptations. It is not necessary to reckon up
the variety of senses of this word, in its full
latitude ; how God is said to tempt man, and
how it is said that he tempts him not; how
man tempts God, and how it is said that
God is not tempted; how Satan tempts men,
and men one another, and a man himself: all
these are several acceptations of this word;
but the temptations here meant, are the things
by which men are tempted, and particularly
the saints of God. And though there is noth-
ing in the words, that may not agree to all
sorts of temptations which the godly are sub-
ject to ; yet I conceive it is particularly meant
of their afflictions and distresses, as the apos-
tle James likewise uses it, chap. i. 2.
And they are so called, because they give
particular and notable proof of the temper of
a Christian's spirit, and draw forth evidence
both of the truth and the measure of the
grace that is in them. If they fail and are
foiled, as sometimes they are, this convinces
them of that human frailty and weakness
which are in them, and so humbles them,
and drives them out of themselves to depend
upon another for more strength and better
success in after-encounters. If they acquit
themselves like Christians indeed (the Lord
managing and assisting that grace which he
hath given them), then all their valor, and
strength, and victories, turn to his praise,
from whom they have received all.
A man is not only unknown to others but
to himself, that hath never met with such
difficulties as require faith, and Christian for-
titude, and patience, to surmount them. How
shall a man know whether his meekness and
calmness of spirit be real or not, while he
meets with no provocation, nothing that con-
tradicts or crosses him 2 But when some-
what sets upon him, that is in itself very un-
pleasant and grievous to him, and yet, if in
that case he retains his moderation of spirit,
and flies not out into impatience, either
against God or men, this gives experiment of
the truth and soundness of that grace within
him ; whereas standing water which is clear
at top while it is untouched, yet if it have
mud at the bottom, stir it a little, and it rises
presently.
It is not altogether unprofitable; yea, it is
great wisdom in Christians to be arming
themselves against such temptations as may
befall them hereafter, though they have not
as yet met with them ; to labor to overcome
them beforehand, to suppose the hardest
things that may be incident to them ; and to
WER. 6.]
83
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
put on the strongest resolutions they can at-
tain unto. Yet all that is but an imaginary
effort; and therefore there is no assurance
that the victory is any more than imaginary
too, till it come to action, and then, they that
have spoken and thought very confidently,
may prove but (as one said of the Athenians)
fortes in tabula, patient and courageous in
picture or fancy ; and notwithstanding all
their arms, and dexterity in handling them
by way of exercise, may be foully defeated
when they are to fight in earnest. The chil-
dren of Ephraim being armed, and carrying
bows (says the psalmist, Psal. lxxviii. 9),
3/et turned back in the day of battle. It is
the battle that tries the soldier, and the storm
the pilot. How would it appear that Chris-
tians can be themselves, not only patient, but
cheerful in poverty, in disgrace, and tempta-
tions, and persecutions, if it were not often
their lot to meet with them 2 He who framed
the heart, knows it to be but deceitful, and he
who gives grace, knows the weakness and
strength of it exactly ; yet he is pleased to
speak thus, that by afflictions and hard tasks
he tries what is in the hearts ot his children.
For the word of God speaks to men, and
therefore it speaks the language of the chil-
dren of men: thus, Gen. xxii. 12, Now I know
that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not
withheld thy son, thine only son from me.
God delights to call forth his champions to
meet with great temptations, to make them
bear crosses of more than ordinary weight;
as commanders in war put men of most valor
and skill upon the hardest services. God
sets some strong furious trial upon a strong
Christian, made strong by his own grace, and
by his victory, makes it appear to the world,
that though there is a great deal of the coun-
terfeit coin of profession in religion, yet some
there are, who have the power, the reality
of it, and that it is not an invention, but
there is truth in it; that the invincible grace,
the very spirit of God dwells in the hearts
of true believers; that he hath a number
who do not only speak big, but do indeed and
in good earnest despise the world, and over-
come it by his sº ength. Some men take de-
light to see some kind of beasts fight together;
but to see a Christian mind encountering
some great affliction, and conquering it, to
see his valor in not sinking at the hardest dis-
tresses of this life, nor the most frightful end
of it, the cruellest kinds of death, for his sake
—this is (as one said) dignum Deo spectacu-
lum ; this is a combat which God delights to
look upon, and he is not a mere beholder in
it, for it is the power of his own grace that
enables and supports the Christian in all
those conflicts and temptations.
Through manifold temptations.] This ex-
presses a multitude of temptations, and those
too of divers kinds, many and manifold. It
were no hard condition to have a trial now
and then, with long ease and prosperity be-
twixt; but to be plied with one affliction at
the heels of another, to have them come
thronging in by multitudes and of different
kinds, uncouth, unaccustomed evils, such as a
man hath not been acquainted with before,
this is that which is often the portion of those
who are the beloved of God, Psal. xlii. 7.
Deep calleth unto deep, at the noise of thy
water-spouts ; all thy waves and thy billows
are gone over me.
Ye are in heaviness.]. This the apostle
blames not, but aims at the moderating of it.
Seek not altogether to dry up this stream,
but to bound it, and keep it within its banks.
Grace doth not destroy the life of nature, but
adds to it a life more excellent; yea, grace
doth not only permit, but requires some feel-
ing of afflictions. There is an affected pride
of spirit in some men, instead of patience,
suitable only to the doctrine of the stoics as
it is usually taken; they strive not to feel at
all the afflictions that are on them ; but this
is to despise the correction of the Lord, which
is alike forbidden with fainting under it.
Heb. xii. 5. We should not stop our ears,
but hear the rod, and him that hath appointed
it, as the prophet speaks, Mic. vi. 9. Where
there is no feeling at all, there can be no pa-
tience. Consider it as the hand of God, and
thence argue the soul into submission, Psal.
XXxix. 9. I was dumb, I opened not my mouth,
because thou didst it. But this heaviness is
mitigated, and set, as it were, within its
banks, betwixt these two &onsiderations, 1.
The utility, 2. The brevity of it: the profit-
ableness—and the shortness of it.
To a worldly man, great gain sweetens the
hardest labor; and to a Christian, spiritual
profit and advantage may do much to move
him to take those afflictions well which are
otherwise very unpleasant. Though they are
not joyous for the present, yet this allays the
Sorrow of them, the fruit that grows out of
them, that peaceable fruit of righteousness.
Heb. xii. 11.
A bundle of folly is in the heart of a child,
but the rod of correction shall beat it out,
saith Solomon. Though the children of God
are truly (as our Savior calls them) the chil-
dren of wisdom, yet, being renewed only in
part, they are not altogether free from those
follies that call for this rod to beat them out,
and sometimes have such a bundle of follies
as require a bundle of rods to be spent upon
it—many and manifold afflictions.
It is not an easy matter to be drawn from,
nor to be beaten from, the love of this world,
and this is what God mainly requires of his
children, that they be not in love with the
world, nor the things of it; for that is con-
trary to the love of God, and so far as that is
entertained, this is wanting. And if in the
midst of afflictions they are sometimes sub-
ject to this disease, how would it grow upon
them with ease and prosperity . When they
are beaten from one worldly folly or delight,
they are ready, through nature’s corruption,
to lay hold upon some other—being thrust
84
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
out from it at one door, to enter at some
other ; as children unwilling to be weaned,
if one breast be imbittered, they seek to the
other; and therefore there must be somewhat
to drive them from that too. Thus it is clear
there is need, great need of afflictions, yea,
of many afflictions, that the Saints be chas-
tened by the Lord, that they may not be con-
demned by the world. 1 Cor. xi. 32.
Many resemblances there are for illustra-
tion of this truth, in things both of nature
and of art, some common, and others choicer:
but these are not needful. The experience of
Christians tells them, how easily they grow
proud, and secure, and carnal, with a little
ease, and when outward things go smoothly
with them ; and therefore what unhappiness
were it for them to be very happy that way !
Let us learn, then, that in regard of our
present frailty there is need of afflictions, and
so not promise ourselves exemption, how
calm soever our seas are for the present; and
then for the number, and measure, and weight
of them, to resign that wholly into the hands
of our wise Father and Physician, who per-
fectly knows our mould and our maladies,
and what kind and quantity of chastisement
are needful for our cure.
Though now for a season (if need be) ye
are in heaviness.] . The other consideration
which moderates this heaviness, is its short-
ness. . Because we willingly forget eternity,
therefore this moment seems much in our
eyes: but, if we could look upon it aright,
of how little concernment is it what be our
condition here ! If it were as prosperous as
we could wish or imagine, it is but for a little
season. The rich man in the gospel talked
of many years, but Thou fool, this night shall
thy soul be required of thee, was the longest
period. The many years are quickly drawn
to a very great abatement, and if full of pains
and griefs, those do help to put an end to
themselves, and hasten to it. Well then
might St. Austin say, Hic ure, code, modó
ibi parcas, Use me here as pleaseth thee, so
that hereafter it may be well with me.
Wherein.] This word, though it can not
fall amiss, being referred to any particular to
which interpreters have appropriated it, yet
it is rather to be taken as relative to the
whole complex sense of the preceding verses,
concerning the hope of glory. In this thing
ye rejoice, that ye are begotten again—that
there is such an inheritance, and that you are
made heirs of it—that it is kept for you, and
you for it—that nothing can come betwixt
you and it, to disappoint you of possessing and
enjoying it—that though there be many des-
erts, and mountains, and seas, in the way,
yet you have ascertained, that you shall come
safe thither.
This is but one thing, while the cause of
your grief is temptations, and manifold temp-
tations, yet this one thing weighs down all
that multitude. The heart being grieved in
one thing naturally looks out for its ease to
some other; and there is usually somewhat
that is a man’s great comfort, that he turns
his thoughts to, when he is crossed and af.
flicted in other things: but herein lies the
folly of the world, that the things they choose
for their refuge and comfort are such as may
change themselves, and turn into discomfort
and sorrow ; but the godly man, who is the
fool in the natural man's eyes, goes beyond
all the rest in his wise choice in this. He
rises above all that is subject to change, casts
his anchor within the veil. That in which
he rejoiceth is still matter of joy unmoveable
and unalterable; although not only his estate,
but the whole world were turned upside
down, yet this is the same, or rather, in the
psalmist's words, Though the earth were re-
moved, and the greatest mountains cast into
the sea, yet will not we fear. Psal. xlvi. 2.
When we shall receive that rich and pure
and abiding inheritance, that salvation which
shall be revealed in the last time, and when
time itself shall cease to be, then there shall
be no more reckoning of our joys by days and
hours, but they shall run parallel with eter-
nity. Then all our love, that is now scatter-
ed and parcelled out upon the Vanities among
which we are here, shall be united and gath-
ered into one, and fixed upon God, and the
soul filled with the delight of his presence.
The sorrow was limited and bounded by
the considerations we spoke of ; but this joy,
this exultation, and leaping for joy (for so it
is), is not bounded, it can not be too much : its
measure is, to know no measure. The afflic-
tions, the matter of heaviness, are but a tran-
sient touch of pain; but that whereon this
joy is built is most permanent, the measure
of it can not exceed, for the matter of it is
infinite and eternal, beyond all hyperbole.
There is no expression we have which can
reach it, much less go beyond it ; itself is the
hyperbole, still surpassing all that can be said
of it. Even in the midst of heaviness itself,
such is this joy that it can maintain itself in
the depth of sorrow; this oil of gladness still
swims above, and can not be drowned by all
the floods of affliction, yea, it is often most
sweet in the greatest distress. The soul
relishes spiritual joy best, when it is not glut-
ted with worldly delights, but finds them
turned into bitterness.
For application. In that we profess our-
selves Christians, we all pretend to be the
sons of God, and so heirs of this glory ; and
if each man were individually asked, he
would say, he hoped to attain it: but were
there nothing else, this might abundantly
convince us, that the greatest part of us de-
lude ourselves, and are deceived in this ; for
how few are there who do really find this
height of joy, of gladness and exultation, in
their thoughts and hopes of it, who do daily
refresh and glad themselves with the consid-
eration of what is laid up for them above,
more than with all their enjoyments here
below.
VER. 7.] FIRST EPISTLE
OF PETER. 85
Consider how the news of some small out-
ward advantage that is to come to us raises
our light vain hearts, and makes them leap
within us; and yet this news of a kingdom
prepared for us (if we be indeed believers),
stirs us not ; our hearts are as little affected
with it as if it concerned us not at all : and
this is too clear an evidence against us, that
indeed it concerns us not, that our portion as
yet is not in it.
In what a fool's paridise will men be with
the thoughts of worthless things, and such
things too as they shall never obtain, nor
ever shall have any further being than what
they have in their fancy! And how will
men frequently roll over in their minds the
thoughts of any pleasing good they hope for
And yet we, who say we have hopes of the
glory to come, can pass many days without
one hour spent in the rejoicing thought of
the happiness we look for If any person of
a mean condition for the present were made
sure to become very rich and be advanced to
great honor within a week, and after that to
live to a great age in that high estate, enjoy-
ing health and all imaginable pleasures, judge
ye, whether in the few days betwixt the
knowledge of those news and the enjoying
of them, the thoughts of what he were to
attain to would not be frequent with him,
and be always welcome. There is no com-
parison betwixt all we can imagine this way
and the hopes we speak of; and yet, how
seldom are our thoughts upon those things,
and how faint and slender is our rejoicing in
them Can we deny that it is unbelief of
these things that causeth this neglect and
forgetting of them 2 The discourse, the
tongue of men and angels can not beget Di-
vine belief of the happiness to come ; only
he who gives it, gives faith likewise to ap-
prehend it, and lay hold upon it, and, upon
our believing, to be filled with joy in the
hopes of it.
VER. 7. That the trial of your faith being much more
precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be
tried with fire, might be found unto praise, and
honor, and glory, at the appearing of Jesus Christ.
The way of the just (saith Solomon) is as
the shining light, that shineth more and more
to the §: day. Still making forward,
and ascending toward perfection, moving as
fast when they are clouded with affliction as
at any time else; yea, all that seems to work
against them, furthers them. Those graces
that would possibly grow heavy and un-
wieldly, by too much ease, are held in breath,
and increase their activity and strength by
conflict. Divine grace, even in the heart of
weak and sinful man, is an invincible thing.
Drown it in the waters of adversity, it rises
more beautiful, as not being drowned indeed,
but only washed ; throw it into the furnace
of fiery trials, it comes out purer, and loses
nothing but the dross which our corrupt na-
ture mixes with it. Thus the apostle here
expounds the if need be of the former verse,
and so justifies the joy in afflictions, which
there he speaks of, by their utility and the
advantage faith derives from them: it is so
tried that it shall appear in its full brightness
at the revelation of Jesus Christ.
The peculiar treasure of a Christian being
the grace which he receives from heaven,
and particularly that sovereign grace of faith,
whatsoever he can be assured will better him
any way in this he will not only bear pa-
tiently, but gladly embrace it. See Rom. v. 3.
Therefore the apostle sets this before his
brethren in those words of this verse which
express, 1. The worth and excellency of
faith ; 2. The usefulness of temptations in
relation to it.
1st. The worth and excellency of faith.
The trial of faith is called more precious, a
work of more worth than the trial of gold,
because faith itself is of more value than gold.
The apostle chooses this comparison as fitting
his purpose for the illustration of both, the
worth of faith and likewise the use of tempt-
ations, representing the one by gold, and the
other by the trying of gold in the fire.
The worth of gold is, 1. Real, the purest
and most precious of all metals, having many
excellent properties beyond them, as they
who write of the nature of gold observe.
2. Far greater in the esteem and opinion of
men. See how men hurry up and down, over
sea and land, unwearied in their pursuit, with
hazard of life, and often with the loss of
uprightness and a good conscience; and not
only thus esteem it in itself, but make it the
rule of their esteem one of another, valuing
men less or more as they are more or less
furnished with it. And we see at what a
height this is; for things we would commend
much, we borrow its name to describe them,
e.g., golden mediocrity ; and that age which
they would call the best of all, they name it
the golden age ; and as Seneca observes, de-
scribing heavenly things (as Ovid the sun’s
palace and chariot), still gold is the word
for all.
And the Holy Scriptures, descending to our
reach, do set forth the riches of the new Je-
rusalem by it, Rev. xxi., and the excellency
of Christ, Cant. v. 11, 14. And here the pre-
ciousness of faith, whereof Christ is the ob-
ject, is said to be more precious than gold,
I will not insist in the parallel of faith with
gold in the other qualities of it, as that it is
pure and solid as gold, and that it is most
ductile and malleable as gold; beyond all
other metals, it plies any way with the will
of God. But then faith truly enriches the
soul; and as gold answers all things, so faith
gives the soul propriety in all the rich conso-
lations of the gospel, in all the promises of
life and salvation, in all needful blessings; it
draws virtue from Christ to strengthen itself,
and all other graces.
And thus it is not only precious as gold, but
goes far above the comparison: it is more
86
|CHAP. I
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
precious, yea, much more precious, 1. In its
original; the other is digged out of the bow-
els of the earth; but the mine of this gold is
above, it comes from heaven. 2. In its na-
ture, answerable to its original, it is immate-
rial, spiritual, and pure.
make it purer, but when we receive faith pure
in itself, we mix dross with it, and make it
impure by the alloy of unbelief. 3. In its
endurance flowing from the former: it per-
isheih not. Gold is a thing in itself corrupti-
ble and perishing, and to particular owners
it perisheth in their loss of it, they being
deprived of it in any way.
Other graces are likewise tried in the same
furnace; but faith is named as the root of all
the rest. Sharp afflictions give a Christian
a trial of his love to God, whether it be sin-
gle and for himself or not ; for then it will be
the same when he strikes as when he em-
braces, and in the fire of affliction will rather
grow the hotter, and be more taken off from
the world, and set upon him. Again, the
grace of patience is put particularly upon trial
in distresses. But both these spring from
faith; for love rises from a right and strong
belief of the goodness of God, and patience
from a persuasion of the wisdom and love of
God, and the truth of his promises. He hath
said, I will not fail thee, and that we shall
not be tempted above our strength, and he will
give the issue. Now the belief of these things
causes patience. The trial of faith worketh
patience. James i. 3. For therefore doth the
Christian resign up himself, and all that con-
cerns him, his trials, the measure and length
of them all, unto God’s disposal, because he
knows that he is in the hands of a wise and
loving father. Thus the trial of these and
other particular graccs doth still resolve into
this, and is comprised under the trial of faith.
This brings us,
2dly. To the usefulness of temptations in
relation to it.
This trial (as that of gold) may be for a
two-fold end. 1. For experiment of the truth
and pureness of a Christian's faith. 2. To
refine it yet more, and to raise it to a higher
pitch or degree of pureness.
1. The furnace of afflictions shows upright,
real faith to be such indeed, remaining still
the same even in the fire, the same that it
was, undiminished, as good gold loses none
of its quantity in the fire. Doubtless many
are deceived in time of ease and prosperity,
with imaginary faith and fortitude: so that
there may be still some doubt, while a man
is underset with outward helps, as riches,
friends, esteem, &c., whether he leans upon
those or upon God, who is an invisible sup-
port, though stronger than all that are visible,
and is the peculiar and alone stay of faith in
all conditions. But when all these outward
props are plucked away from a man, then it
will be manifest whether something else up-
holds him or not ; for if there be nothing else,
then he falls; but if his mind stands firm and
We refine gold and
unremoved as before, then it is evident he
laid not his weight upon these things which
he had then about him, but was built upon a
foundation, though not seen, which is able
alone to stay him, although he be not only
frustrated of all other supports, but beaten
upon with storms and tempests; as our Sa-
Vior says, the house fell not because it was
founded on a rock. att. vii. 25.
This testified the truth of David’s faith,
who found it stay his mind upon God, when
there was nothing else near that could do it:
I had fainted, unless I had believed. Psal.
xxvii. 13. So in his strait, 1 Sam. xxx. 6,
where it is said that David was greatly dis-
tressed; but he encouraged himself in the
Lord his God. . Thus Psal. lxxxiii. 26. My
jlesh and my heart faileth ; but God is the
strength of my heart and my portion for ever.
The heart's natural strength of spirit and res-
olution may bear up under outward weak-
ness, or the failing of the flesh; but when
the heart itself fails, which is the strength of
the flesh, what shall strengthen it 2 nothing
but God, who is the strength of the heart and
its portion for ever. Thus faith worketh
alone, when the case suits that of the proph-
et's, Hab. iii. 17. Although the fig-tree shall
not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vine,
&c., yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy
*n the God of my salvation.
In spiritual trials, which are the sharpest
and most fiery of all, when the furnace is
within a man, when God doth not only shut
up his loving-kindness from his feeling, but
seems to shut it up in hot displeasure; when
he writes bitter things against him, yet then
to depend upon him, and wait for his salva-
tion, and the more he smites the more he
cleaves to him, this is not only a true, but
a strong, and very refined faith indeed. Well
might he say, When I am tried I shall come
forth as gold, who could say that word,
Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him :
though I saw, as it were, his hand lifted up
to destroy me, yet from that same hand
would I expect salvation.
2. As the furnace shows faith to be what
it is, so also it betters it, and makes it more
precious and purer than it was.
The graces of the Spirit, as they come from
the hand of God, who infuses them, are noth-
ing but pureness; but being put into a heart
where sin dwells (which, till the body be
dissolved and taken to pieces, can not be fully
purged out), there they are mixed with cor-
ruption and dross: and particularly faith is
mixed with unbelief, and love of earthly
things, and dependance upon the creature, if
not more than God, yet together with him ;
and for this is the furnace needful, that the
soul may be purified from this dross, and
made more sublime and spiritual in believ-
ing. It is a hard task, and many times comes
but slowly forward, to teach the heart, by
discourse and speculation, to sit loose from
the world at all sides, not to cleave to the
WER. 8, 9.]
87
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
best things in it, though we be compassed
about with them ; though riches do increase,
yet not to set our hearts on them, Psal. lxxii.
10 : not to trust in such uncertain things as
they are, as the apostle speaks, 1 Tim. vi. 17.
Therefore God is pleased to choose the more
effectual way to teach his own the right and
pure exercise of faith, either by withholding
or withdrawing those things from them. He
makes them relish the sweetness of spiritual
comfort, by depriving them of those outward
comforts whereon they were in most danger
to have doated to excess, and so to have
forgotten themselves and him. When they
are reduced to necessity, and experimentally
trained up easily to let go their hold of any
thing earthly, and to stay themselves only
upon their rock, this is the very refining of
their faith, by those losses and afflictions
where with they are exercised. They who
learn bodily exercises, as fencing, &c., are not
taught by sitting still, and hearing rules, or
seeing others practice, but they learn by ex-
ercising themselves. The way to profit in
the art of believing, or of coming to this
spiritual activity of faith, is to be often put to
that work in the most difficult way, to make
up all wants and losses in God, and to sweet-
en the bitterest griefs with his loving-kind-
IleSS-
Might be found unto praise, and honor, and
glory..] This is the end that is intended, and
shall be certainly obtained by all these hot
trials. Faith shall come through them all,
and shall be found unto praise, &c. An un-
skilful beholder may think it strange to see
gold thrown into the fire, and left there for a
time; but he that puts it there would be loath
to lose it; his purpose is to make some costly
piece of work of it. . Every believer gives
himself to Christ, and he undertakes to pre-
sent them blameless to the Father : not one
of them shall be lost, nor one drachm of their
faith ; they shall be found, and their faith
shall be found, when he appears. That faith
which is here in the furnace, shall be then
made up into a crown of pure gold: it shall
be found unto praise, and honor, and glory.
This praise, and honor, and glory, may be
referred, either to believers themselves, ac-
cording to the Apostle St. Paul’s expression,
Rom. ii. 7, or to Christ who appears; but the
two will agree well together, that it be both
to their praise, and to the praise of Christ;
for certainly, all their praise and glory shall
terminate in the glory of their head—Christ,
who is God, blessed for ever. They have
each their crown ; but their honor is, to cast
them all down before his throne. He shall
be glorified in his saints, and admired in them
that believe. They shall be glorious in him;
and therefore in all their glory he shall be
glorified: for as they have derived their glory
from hin, it shall all return back to him
again.
At the appearance of Jesus Christ.] This
denotes the time when this shall come to
pass; for Christ is faithful and true; he hath
promised to come again, and to judge the
world in righteousness, and he will come and
will not tairy. He shall judge righteously in
that day, who was himself unrighteously
judged here on earth. It is called the reve-
lation ; all other things shall be revealed in
that day; the most hidden things, good and
evil, shall be unveiled; but it is eminently
the day of his revelation: it shall be by his
light, by the brightness of his coming, that
all other things shall be revealed ; but he
himself shall be the worthiest sight of all.
All eyes shall behold him. He shall then
gloriously appear before all men and angels,
and shall by all be acknowledged to be the
Son of God and judge of the world: some
shall with joy know him, and acknowledge
him to be so ; others to their horror and
amazement. How beautiful shall he be to
those who love him, when he, as the glorious
head, shall appear with his whole body mys-
tical together with him
Then the glory and praise which all the
Saints shall be honored with, shall recom-
pense fully all the scorns and ignominies and
distresses they have met with here. And
they shall shine the brighter for them. Oh
if we considered often that solemn day, how
light should we set by the opinions of men,
and all outward hardships that can befall us!
How easily should we digest dispraise and
dishonor here, and pass through all cheerful-
ly, provided we may be then found in him,
and so partakers of praise, and glory, and
honor, in that day of his appearing /
VER. 8. When having not seen, ye love; in whom,
though now you see him not, yet believing, ye re-
joice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory.
VER. 9. Receiving the end of your faith, even the
salvation of your souls.
IT is a paradox to the world which the
apostle hath asserted, that there is a joy
which can subsist in the midst of sorrow ;
therefore he insists in confirmation of it, and
in all these words proves it to the full, yea,
with advantage, that the saints have not only
some measure of joy in the griefs that abound
upon them here, but excellent and eminent
joy, such as makes good all that can be said
of it, such as can not be spoken too much
of, for it is unspeakable, nor too much magni-
fied, for it is glorious.
To evidence the truth of this, and to con-
firm his brethren in the experienced knowl-
edge of it, he expresses here more particu-
larly and distinctly the causes of this their
joy, which are,
1. The object or matter of it; 2. The ap-
prehension and appropriation of that object :
which two conjoined, are the entire cause of
all rejoicing.
1. The object is Jesus Christ, ver. 8, and
the salvation purchased by him, ver, 9. For
these two can not be severed, and these two
verses which speak of them, require (as is
88
[CHAP. I
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
evident by their connexion) to be considered
together.
2. The apprehension of these is set forth,
first, negatively, not by bodily sight; second-
ly, positively: whereas it might seem to
abate the certainty and liveliness of their re-
joicing, that it is of things they had not seen,
nor do yet see: this is abundantly made up
by three for one, each of them more excel-
lent than the mere bodily sight of Christ in
the flesh, which many had who were never
the better by it: the three things are, those
three prime Christian graces, faith, love, and
hope; the two former in ver. 8, the third in
ver. 9.—Faith in Christ begetting love to
him, and both these giving assured hope of
salvation by him, making it as certain to
them, as if it were already in their hand,
and they in possession of it. . And from all
these together results this exultation, or leap-
ing for joy, joy unspeakable, and full of glory.
This is that one thing that so much con-
cerns us; and therefore we mistake very far,
and forget our own highest interest too much,
when we either speak or hear of it slightly,
and apply not our hearts to it. What is it
that all our thoughts and endeavors drive at 2
What means all that we are doing in the
world 2 Though we take several ways to it,
and wrong ways for the most part, yea, such
ways as lead not to it, but set us further off
from it; yet what we all seek after by all our
labor under the sun, is something that may
be matter of contentment and rejoicing to us
when we have attained it. Now here it is,
and in vain is it sought for elsewhere. And
for this end it is represented to you, that it
may be yours, if ye will entertain it; not
only that you may know this to be a truth,
that in Jesus Christ is laid up true consola-
tion and rejoicing, that he is the magazine
and treasury of it, but that you may know
how to bring him home into your hearts, and
lodge him there, and so to have the spring
of joy within you.
That which gives full joy to the soul, must
be something that is higher and "better than
itself. In a word, he who made it, can alone
make it glad after this manner, with unspeak-
able and glorious joy. But the soul, while
remaining guilty of rebellion against him,
and unreconciled, can not behold him but as
an enemy; any belief that it can have of him
while it is in that posture, is not such as can
fetch love, and hope, and so rejoicing, but
what the faith of devils produceth, only be-
getting terror and trembling. But the light
of his countenance, shining in the face of his
Son the Mediator, gladdens the heart; and it
is the looking upon him so that causeth the
soul to believe, and love, and hope, and rejoice.
Therefore the apostle, in his description of the
estate of the Gentiles before Christ was preach-
ed to them, Eph. ii., joins these together:
Without Christ—that was the cause of all the
rest—therefore, without comfort in the promi-
ses, without hope, and without God in the
world. So he is here by our apostle express-
ed, as the object. In all these, therefore, he
is the matter of our joy, because our faith,
and love, and hope of salvation, do centre in
him.
The apostle writing to the dispersed Jews,
many of whom had not known or seen Christ
in the flesh, commends their love and faith,
for this reason, that it did not depend upon
bodily sight, but was pure, and spiritual, and
made them of the number of those whom our
Savior himself pronounces blessed, who have
not seen, and yet believe. You saw him not
when he dwelt among men, and walked to
and fro, preaching and working miracles.
Many of those who did then hear and see
him believed not ; yea, they scoffed, and ha-
ted, and persecuted him, and in the end cru-
cified him ; you have seen none of all those
things, yet having heard the gospel which
declares him, you have believed.
Thus observe, the working or not working
of faith doth not depend upon the difference
of the external ministry and gifts of men;
for what greater difference can there be that
way than betwixt the master and the ser-
vants, betwixt the great prophet himself and
his weak sinful messengers ? and yet many
of those who saw and heard him in person
were not converted, believed not in him ; and
thousands who never saw him were convert-
ed by his apostles, and, as it seems, even
some of those who were some way accessory
to his death, yet were brought to repentance
by this same apostle's sermon. See Acts ii.
Learn, then, to look above the outward
ministry, and any difference that in God's
dispensation can be there ; and know, that if
Jesus Christ himself were on earth, and now
preaching among us, yet might his incom-
parable words be unprofitable to us, not be-
ing mixed with faith in the hearers. But
where that is, the meanest and the most des-
picable conveyance of his message, received
with humility and affection, will work bless-
ed effects.
Whom not seeing, yet believing.] Faith
elevates the soul not only above sense, and
sensible things, but above reason itself. As
reason corrects the errors which sense might
occasion, so, supernatural faith corrects the
errors of natural reason, judging according
to Sen Se.
The sun seems less than the wheel of a
chariot, but reason teaches the philosopher,
that it is much bigger than the whole earth,
and the cause that it seems so little, is its
great distance. The naturally wise man is
equally deceived by this carnal reason, in his
estimate of Jesus Christ the Sun of Righteous-
ness, and the cause is the same, his great dis-
tance from him ; as the psalmist speaks of
the wicked, Psal. x. 5, Thy judgments are
far above out of his sight. He accounts
Christ and his glory a smaller matter than
his own gain, honor, or pleasure; for these
are near him, and he sees their quantity to
WER. 8, 9.]
89
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
the full, and counts them bigger, yea, far
more worth than they are indeed. But the
apostle St. Paul, and all who are enlightened
by the same spirit, they know by faith, which
is divine reason, that the excellency of Jesus
Christ far surpasses the worth of the whole
earth, and all things earthly. Phil. iii. 7, 8.
To give a right assent to the gospel of
Christ is impossible, without divine and sa-
ving faith infused in the soul. To believe
that the eternal son of God clothed himself
with human flesh, and dwelt among men in
a tabernacle like theirs, and suffered death
in the flesh : that he who was Lord of life,
hath freed us from the sentence of eternal
death; that he broke the bars and chains of
death and rose again; that he went up into
Heaven, and there at the Father's right hand
sits in our flesh, and that glorified above the
angels; this is the great mystery of godli-
ness. And a part of this mystery is, that he
is believed on in the world. 1 Tim. ii. 16.
This natural men may discourse of, and that
very knowingly, and give a kind of natural
credit to it, as to a history that may be true;
but firmly to believe that there is divine
truth in all these things, and to have a per-
suasion of it stronger than of the very things
we see with our eyes—such an assent as this
is the peculiar work of the spirit of God, and
is certainly saving faith.
The soul that so believes can not choose but
love. It is commonly true, that the eye is
the Ordinary door by which love enters into
the soul, and it is true in respect of this love;
though it is denied of the eye of sense, yet
(you see) it is ascribed to the eye of faith,
though you have not seen him, you love him,
because you believe : which is to see him
spiritually. Faith, indeed, is distinguished
from that vision which shall be in glory;
but it is the vision of the kingdom of grace,
it is the eye of the new creature, that quick-
sighted eye which pierces all the visible
heavens, and sees above them ; which looks
to things that are not seen, 2 Cor. iv. 18, and
is the evidence of things not seen, Heb. xi. 1,
and sees him who is invisible, ver, 27. It is
possible that a person may be much beloved
upon the report of his worth and virtues, and
upon a picture of him lively drawn, before
sight of the party so commended and repre-
sented ; but certainly when he is seen, and
found answerable to the former, it raises the
affection already begun to a far greater height.
We have the report of the perfections of Jesus
Christ in the gospel; yea, so clear a descrip-
tion of him, that it gives a picture of him,
and that, together with the Sacraments, is
the only lawful, and the only lively picture
of our Savior. Gal. iii. 1. Now faith be-
lieves this report, and beholds this picture,
and so lets in the love of Christ to the soul.
But further, it gives a particular experimen-
tal knowledge of Christ and acquaintance
with him ; it causes the soul to find all that
is spoken of him in the word, and his beauty
there represented, to be abundantly true:
makes it really taste of his sweetness, and
by that possesses the heart more strongly
with his love, persuading it of the truth of
those things, not by reasons and arguments,
but by an inexpressible kind of evidence,
which they only know who have it. Faith
persuades a Christian of these two things
which the philosopher gives as the causes of
all love, beauty and propriety, the loveliness
of Christ in himself, and our interest in him.
The former it effectuates not only by the
first apprehending and believing of those his
excellences and beauty, but by frequent be-
holding of him, and eying him in whom all
perfection dwells; and it looks so oft on him,
till it sets the very impression of his image
(as it were) upon the soul, so that it can never
be blotted out and forgotten. The latter it
doth by that particular uniting act which
makes him our God and our Savior.
Ye love.] The distinctions which some
make in love, need not be taken as importing
different kinds, but different actings of the
same love, by which we may try our so much
pretended love of Christ, which in truth is so
rarely found. There will then be in this
love, if it be genuine, these three qualities,
good-will, delight, and desire.
1st. Good-will, earnest wishing, and (as we
can) promoting God’s glory, and stirring up
others so to do. They who seek more their
own things than the things of Jesus Christ,
more their own praise j esteem than his,
are strangers to this divine love ; for she seeks
not her own things. The bitter root of self-
love is most hard to pluck up ; this strongest
and sweetest love of Christ alone doth it ac-
tually though gradually. This love makes
the soul like the lower heaven, slow in its
own motion, most swift in the motion of that
first which wheels it about ; so, the higher
degree of love the more swift. It loves the
hardest tasks and greatest difficulties, where
it may perform God service, either in doing
or in suffering for him. It is strong as death,
and many waters can not quench it. Eccles.
viii. 6, 7. The greater the task is, the more
real are the testimony and expression of love,
and therefore the more acceptable to God.
2dly. There is in true love, a complacency
and delight in God; a conformity to his will ;
a loving what he loves: it is studious of his
will, ever seeking to know more clearly what
it is that is most pleasing to him, contracting
a likeness to God in all his actions, by con-
versing with him, by frequent contemplation
of God, and looking on his beauty. As the
eye lets in this affection, so it serves it con-
stantly, and readily looks that way which
love directs it. Thus the soul possessed with
this love of Jesus Christ, the soul which hath
its eye much upon him, often thinking on his
former sufferings and present glory, the more
it looks upon Christ, the more it loves; and
still the more it loves, the more it delights to
look upon him.
12
90
[CHAP I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
3dly. There is in true love a desire ; for it
is but small beginnings and tastes of his
goodness which the soul hath here; there-
fore it is still looking out and longing for the
day of marriage. The time is sad and wea-
risome, and seems much longer than it is,
while it is detained here. I desire to be dis-
solved (saith St. Paul) and to be with Christ.
Phil. i. 23.
God is the sum of all things lovely. Thus
excellently Gregory Nazianzen expresseth
himself, Orat. 1. “If I have any possessions,
health, credit, learning, this is all the con-
tentment I have of them, that I have some-
what I may despise for Christ, who is totus
desiderabilis, et totum desiderabile (the all-
desirable one, the everything desirable).”
And this love is the sum of all he requires
of us; it is that which makes all our mean-
est services acceptable, and without which
all we offer to him is distasteful. God doth
deserve our love, not only by his matchless
excellency and beauty, but by his matchless
love to us, and that is the strongest loadstone
of love. He hath loved me, saith the apostle,
Gal. ii. 20. How appears that? In no less
than this, He hath given himself for me.
Certainly, then, there is no clearer character
of our love than this, to give ourselves to
him who hath so loved us, and given him-
self for us.
This affection must be bestowed some-
where: there is no man but hath some prime
choice, somewhat that is the predominant
delight of his soul; will it not then be our
wisdom to make the worthiest choice 2 see-
ing it is offered us, it is extreme folly to re-
ject it. §
Grace doth not pluck up by the roots and
wholly destroy the natural passions of the
mind, because they are distempered by sin
that were an extreme remedy to cure by kil-
ling, and heal by cutting off; no, but it cor-
rects the distemper in them ; it dries not up
this main stream of love, but purifies it from
the mud which it is full of in its wrong
course, or turns it into its right channel, by
which it may run into happiness, and empty
itself into the ocean of goodness. The Holy
Spirit turns the love of the soul toward God
in Christ, for in that way only can it appre-
hend his love ; so then Jesus Christ is the
first object of this divine love; he is medium
wnionis, through whom God conveys the
sense of his love to the soul, and receives
back its love to himself.
And if we will consider his incomparable
beauty, we may look on it in the Holy Scrip-
tures, particularly in that divine song of
loves, wherein Solomon borrows all the beau-
ties of the creatures, dips his pencil in all their
several excellences, to set him forth unto us,
who is the chief of ten thousands. There is
an inseparable intermixture of love with be-
lief and a pious affection, in receiving di-
vine truth ; so that in effect, as we distin-
guish them, they are mutually strengthened,
the One by the other, and so, though it seem
a circle, it is a divine one, and falls not un-
der censure of the school’s pedantry. If you
ask, How shall I do to love 2 I answer, be-
lieve. If you ask, How shall I believe 2 I an-
swer, love. Although the expressions to a
carnal mind are altogether unsavory, by
grossly mistaking them, yet, to a soul taught
to read and hear them, by any measure of
that same spirit of love wherewith they were
penned, they are full of heavenly and unut-
terable sweetness.
Many directions as to the means of beget-
ting and increasing this love of Christ may
be here offered, and they who delight in
number may multiply them ; but surely this
one will comprehend the greatest and best
part, if not all of them ; believe, and you
shall love ; believe much, and you shall love
much ; labor for strong and deep persuasions
of the glorious things which are spoken of
Christ, and this will command love. Cer-
tainly, did men indeed believe his worth, they
would accordingly love him ; for the reason-
able creature can not but affect that most
which it firmly believes to be worthiest of
affection. O ! this mischievous unbelief is
that which makes the heart cold and dead
toward God. Seek them to believe Christ's
excellency in himself, and his love to us, and
our interest in him, and this will kindle such
a fire in the heart, as will make it ascend in
a sacrifice of love to him. -
The signs likewise of this love may be
multiplied according to the many fruits and
workings of it; but in them all, itself is its
own most infallible evidence. When the
soul finds that all its obedience and endeavor
to keep the commands of Jesus Christ, which
himself makes its character, do flow from
love, then it is true and sincere; for do or
suffer what you will, without love all passes
for nothing; all are ciphers without it, they
signify nothing. 1 Cor. xiii.
This is the message of the gospel, and that
which the ministry aims at ; and therefore
the ministers ought to be suiters, not for
themselves, but for Christ, to espouse souls
to him, and to bring in many hearts to love
him. And certainly, this is the most com-
pendious way to persuade to all other Chris-
tian duties, for this is to converse with Jesus
Christ, and where his love is, no other incen-
tive will be needful ; for love delights in the
presence and converse of the party loved. If
we are to persuade to duties of the second
table, the sum of those is, love to our breth-
ren, resulting from the love of Christ, which
diffuseth such a sweetness into the soul, that
it is all love, and meekness, and gentleness,
and long suffering.
If times be for suffering, love will make
the soul not only bear, but welcome the bit-
terest afflictions of life, and the hardest kinds
of death for his sake. In a word, there is in
love a sweet constraint, or tying of the heart
to all obedience and duty.
WER. 8, 9.]
9]
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
The love of God is requisite in ministers
for their preaching of the word; so our Sa-
vior to St. Peter, John xxi. 15, Peter, lovest
thou me 2 then feed my lambs. It is requisite
for the people that they receive the truth in
the love of it, and that Christ preached may
be entertained in the soul, and embraced by
faith and love.
You that have made choice of Christ for
your love, let not your hearts slip out, to re-
new your wonted base familiarity with sin ;
for that will bring new bitterness to your
Souls, and at least for some time deprive you
of the sensible favor of your beloved Jesus.
Delight always in God, and give him your
whole heart ; for he deserves it all, and is a
satisfying good to it. The largest heart is
all of it too strait for the riches of consola-
tion which he brings with him. Seek to in-
crease in this love; and though it is at first
weak, yet labor to find it daily rise higher,
and burn hotter and clearer, and consume
the dross of earthly desires.
Receiving the end of your faith..] Al-
though the soul that believes and loves, is
put in present possession of God, as far as it
is capable in its sojourning here, yet it desires
a full enjoyment, which it can not attain to
without removing hence. While we are pres-
ent in the body, we are absent from the Lord,
saith the apostle. And because they are as-
sured of that happy exchange, that being
untied and freed of this body, they shall be
present with the Lord, having his own word
for it, that where he is they shall be also ; this
begets such an assured hope, as bears the
name of possession. Therefore it is said here,
receiving the end of your faith.
This receiving likewise flows from faith.
Faith apprehends the present truth of the di-
vine promises, and so makes the things to
come, present ; and hope looks out to their
after-accomplishment, which, if the prom-
ises be true, as faith avers, then hope hath
good reason firmly to expect. This desire
and hope are the very wheels of the soul
which carry it on, and faith is the common
axis on which they rest.
In these words there are two things:
1. The good hoped for in Christ so believed
on and loved ; 2. The assuredness of the hope
itself; yea, it is as sure as if it were already
accomplished.
I. as for the good hoped for, it consists,
1. In the nature of it, viz., the salvation of
their soul : 2. In a relative property of it,
the end of their faith.
1st. The nature of it is, salvation, and sal-
vation of the soul : it imports full deliver-
ance from all kinds of misery, and the safe
possession of perfect happiness, when the
soul shall be out of the reach of all adversi-
ties, and adverse accidents, no more subject-
ed to those evils which are properly its own,
namely, the conscience of sin, and fear of
wrath and sad defections; nor yet subject to
those other evils which it endured by soci-
ety with the body—Outward distresses and
afflictions, persecutions, poverty, diseases, &c.
It is called salvation of the soul : not ex-
cluding the body from the society of that
glory, when it shall be raised and reunited to
the soul ; but because the soul is of itself an
immortal substance, and both the more no-
ble part of man, and the prime subject both
of grace and glory, and because it arrives
first at that blessedness, and for a time leaves
the body in the dust to do homage to its ori-
ginal ; therefore it is alone named here. But
Jesus is the Savior of the body too, and he
shall, at his coming, change our vile bodies,
and make them like his glorious body.
2dly. We have the relative property of
this hope, -the end of your faith, the end or
reward ; for it is both. It is the end, either
at which faith aims, or wherein it ceaseth.
It is the reward, not of their works, nor of
faith, as a work deserving it, but as the con-
dition of the new covenant, which God, ac-
cording to the tenor of that covenant, first
works in his own, and then rewards as if it
were their work. And this salvation, or fru-
ition of Christ is the proper reward of faith,
which believes in him unseen, and so ob-
tains that happy sight. . It is the proper
work of faith to believe what thou seest not,
and the reward of faith, to see what thou
hast believed.
II. This is the certainty of their hope, that
it is as if they had already received it. If
the promise of God and the merit of Christ
hold good, then they who believe in him,
and love him, are made sure of salvation.
The promises of God in Christ are not yea
and nay, but they are in him yea, and in him
amen. Sooner may the rivers run backward,
and the course of the heavens change, and
the frame of nature be dissolved, than any
one soul that is united to Christ Jesus by
faith and love, can be severed from him, and
So fall short of the salvation hoped for in
him; and this is the matter of their rejoicing.
Ye rejoice with joy unspeakable.] The mat-
wral man, says the apostle, receiveth not the
things of God, for they are foolishness unto
him ; and he adds the reason why he can
not know them, for they are spiritually dis-
cerned. He hath none of that faculty by
which they are discerned. There is a vast
disproportion betwixt those things and na-
ture's highest capacity ; it can not work be-
yond its sphere. Speak to the natural man,
of the matter of spiritual grief, the sense of
guiltiness, and the apprehension of God’s
displeasure, or the hiding of his favor and
the light of his countenance from the soul ;
these things stir not him, he knows not
what they mean. Speak to him again of the
peace of conscience, and sense of God's love,
and the joy that arises hence; he is no less
a stranger to that. Mourn to him, and he la-
ments not ; pipe to him and he dances not, as
our Savior speaks, Matt. xi. 17. But as it
there follows, ver, 19, there is a wisdom in
92
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
these things, though they seem folly and
nonsense to the foolish world, and this wis-
dom is justified of her own children.
Having said somewhat already of the cau-
ses of this spiritual joy, which the apostle
here speaks of, it remains that we consider
these two things; 1. How joy ariseth from
these causes; 2. The excellency of this joy,
as it is here expressed.
There is here a solid sufficient good, and
the heart made sure of it, being partly put
in present possession of it, and having a most
certain hope of all the rest. And what
more can be required to make it joyful ?
Jesus Christ, the treasure of all blessings,
received and united to the soul, by faith, and
love, and hope I
Is not Christ the light and joy of the na-
tions 3 such a light as Abraham, at the dis-
tance of many ages, of more than two thou-
sand years, yet saw by faith, and seeing, re-
joiced in. Besides this brightness, which
makes light a joyful object, light is often in
Scripture put for joy. Christ, who is this
light, brings Salvation with him: he is the
sun of righteousness, and there is healing un-
der his wings. I bring you, said the angel,
good tidings of great joy, that shall be to all
people. , And their song hath in it the mat-
ter of that joy, Glory to God in the highest,
£eace on earth, and good-will toward men.
Luke ii. 10, 14.
But to the end we may rejoice in Christ,
We must find him ours: otherwise, the more
excellent he is, the more cause hath the
heart to be sad, while it hath no portion in
him. My spirit hath rejoiced (said the bless-
ed º in God my Savior. Luke i. 47.
Thus, having spoken of our communion
with Christ, the apostle adds, 1 John i. 7,
These things I write that your joy may be full.
Faith worketh this joy by uniting the soul to
Christ, and applying his merits, from the ap-
plication of which arises the pardon of sin ;
and so that load of misery, which was the
great cause of sorrow, is removed; and so
soon as the soul finds itself lightened and
unloaded of that burden which was sinking
it to hell, it can not choose but leap for joy,
in the ease and refreshment it finds. There-
fore that Psalm which David begins with the
doctrine of the pardon of sin, he ends with
an exhortation to rejoicing. Blessed is the
man whose transgression is forgiven, whose
sin is covered : Psal. xxxii. 1: thus he be-
gins, but he ends, Be glad in the Lord and
rejoice ye righteous, and shout for joy, all
sye that are upright in heart. St. Peter speaks
to his hearers of the remission of sins, Acts
ii. 38, and at ver, 41, it is added, They re-
ceived his words gladly. And our Savior
joins these two together, Be of good comfort,
thy sins are forgiven thee. Thus, Isaiah
lxi. 1, good tidings of liberty to captives are
proclaimed, and a notable change there is of
their estate who mourn in Zion, giving them
beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning,
and the garment of praise for the Spirit of
heaviness. Think with what joy the long-
imprisoned debtor drowned in debt, receives
a full discharge, and his liberty; or a con-
demned malefactor the news of his pardon,
and this will somewhat resemble it, but yet
fall far short of the joy which faith brings by
bringing Christ to the soul, and so forgive-
ness of sins in him.
But this is not all. This believing soul is
not only a debtor acquitted and set free, but
enriched besides with a new and great estate ;
not only a pardoned malefactor, but withal
highly preferred and advanced to honor, hav-
ing a right, by the promises, to the unsearch-
able riches of Christ, as the apostle speaks,
and is received into favor with God, and unto
the dignity of sonship, taken from the dung-
hill, and set with princes. Psal. cxiii. 8.
As there is joy from faith, so also from love.
Though this is in 1tself the most sweet and
delightful passion of the soul, yet, as we fool-
ishly misplace it, it proveth often full of bit-
terness; but being set upon Jesus Christ, the
only right and worthy object, it causeth this
unspeakable delight and rejoicing.
First, It is matter of joy to have bestowed
our love so worthily. When our Savior seems
to withdraw himself, and sometimes saddens
the soul that loves him, with absences, in re-
gard of sense, yet even in those sad times,
the soul delights to love him, and there is a
pleasure in the very pains it hath in seeking
after him. And this it knows, that his mer-
cies are everlasting, and that he can not be
long unkind, but will return and speak com-
fortably unto it.
Secondly, Our love to Christ gives us as-
surance of his to us, so that we have not only
chosen worthily, but shall not be frustrated
and disappointed; and it assures us of his,
not as following, but as preceding and causing
ours; for our love to Jesus Christ is no other
than the reflex of his on us. Wine maketh
glad the heart, but thy love is better than wine,
saith the Spouse. And having this persua-
sion, that he hath loved us and washed us in
his blood, and forgets us not in our conflicts;
that though he himself is in his glory, yet
that he intercedes for us there, and will bring
us thither, what condition can befall us so
hard, but we may rejoice in it, and in them,
so far as we are sure to arrive at that full
salvation and the fruition of him who hath
purchased it 2
Then there is the third cause of our re-
joicing, viz., our hope. Now hope is our
anchor fired within the veil, which stays us
against all the storms that beat upon us in
this troublesome sea that we are tossed upon.
The soul which strongly believes and loves,
may confidently hope to see what it believes,
and to enjoy what it loves, and in that it may
rejoice. It may say, whatsoever hazards,
whether outward or inward, whatsoever af-
flictions and temptations I endure, yet this
one thing puts me out of hazard, and in that
WER. 8, 9.]
93
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
I will rejoice, that the salvation of my soul
depends not upon my own strength, but is in
my Savior's hand: My life is hid with Christ
in God; and when he who is my life shall ap-
pear, I likewise shall appear with him in glory.
The childish world are hunting shadows, and
gaping and hoping after they know not what ;
but the believer can say, I know whom I have
trusted, and am persuaded that he is able to
keep that which I have committed to him
against that day. Now we must have not
only a right to these things, but withal there
must be frequent consideration of them to
produce joy. The soul must often view
them, and so rejoice. My meditation of him
shall be sweet, saith David. I will be glad in
the Lord, Psal. civ. 34. The godly, failing
in this, deprive themselves of much of that
joy they might have ; and they who are
most in these sublime thoughts have the
highest and truest joy.
The excellency of this joy, the apostle here
expresseth by these two words, unspeakable
and full of glory.
That it is unspeakable, no wonder, seeing
the matter of it is inconceivable; it is an in-
finite good. God reconciled in Jesus Christ,
and testifying and sealing his love unto the
soul, and giving assured hope of that blessed
vision of eternity, what more unspeakable
than this 2 And for the same reason it is
glorious, or glorified joy, having the highest
and most glorious object; for it derives all its
excellency thence.
Unspeakable.] The best worldly joys are
easily speakable; they may be expressed to
the utmost, yea, usually more is spoken of
them than they are indeed. Their name is
beyond their worth ; they are very seldom
found, upon experience, equal to the opinion
and expectation that men have of them. But
this spiritual joy is above the report any can
can make of it; say what they can of it who
are of happiest expression, yet when a man
comes to know it in his own breast, he will
say (as that queen said of Solomon's wisdom),
the half was not told me of it !
Again, earthly joys are inglorious; many
of which men are ashamed of, and those that
seem most plausible, yet are below the ex-
cellency of the soul, and can not fill it ; but
the joys which arise from union with Christ,
as they are most avowable, a man needs not
blush to own them,--So they are truly con-
tenting and satisfying, and that is their glory,
and the cause why we may glory in them,
My soul shall make her boast in God, says
David. Psal. xxxiv. 2.
For application of all this. If these things
were believed, we should hearken no more to
the foolish prejudice which the world hath
taken up against religion, and wherewith
Satan endeavors to possess men's hearts, that
they may be scared from the ways of holi-
ness: they think it a sour, melancholy life,
which hath nothing but sadness and mourn-
ing in it. But, to remove this prejudice,
Consider 1. Religion debars not from the
lawful delights which are taken in natural
things, but teaches the moderate and regular
use of them, which is far the Sweeter; for
things lawful in themselves are in their ex-
cess sinful, and so prove bitterness in the
end. And if in some cases it requires the
forsaking of lawful enjoyments, as of pleas-
ure, or profits, or honor, for God and for his
glory, it is generous and more truly delight-
ful to deny them for this reason, than to
enjoy them. Men have done much this way
for the love of their country, and by a princi-
ple of moral virtue; but to lose any delight,
or to suffer any hardship for that highest end
—the glory of God, and by the strength of
love to him, is far more excellent, and truly
pleasant.
2. The delights and pleasures of sin, reli-
gion indeed banishes, but it is to change them
for this joy that is unspeakably beyond them.
It calls men from sordid and base delights to
those that are pure delights indeed : it calls
to men, Drink ye no longer of the puddle,
here are the crystal streams of a living foun-
tain. There is a delight in the very de-
spising of impure delights; as St. Augustine
exclaims, Quâm suave est istis suavitatibus
carere ! How pleasant is it to want these
pleasures / But for such a change, to have
in their stead such delights, as that in com-
parison the other deserve not the name ; to
have such spiritual joy as shall end in eternal
joy ; it is a wonder we hasten not all to
choose this joy, but it is indeed because we
believe it not.
3. It is true, the godly are subject to great
distresses and afflictions; but their joy is not
extinguished by them, no, nor diminished
neither, but often sensibly increased. When
they have least of the world's joy, they
abound most in spiritual consolations, and
then relish them best. They find them sweet-
est, when their taste is not depraved by earth-
ly enjoyments. We rejoice in tribulation,
says St. Paul: and here our apostle insists
on that, to verify the substance of this joy in
the midst of the greatest afflictions.
4. Spiritual grief, which seems most oppo-
site to this spiritual joy, excludeth it not, for
there is a secret delight and sweetness in the
tears of repentance, a balm in them that re-
freshes the soul; and even their saddest kind
of mourning, viz., the dark times of deser-
tion, hath this in it, which is someway sweet,
that those mournings after their beloved, who
absents himself, are a mark of their love to
him, and a true evidence of it. And then all
these spiritual sorrows, of what nature so-
ever, are turned into spiritual joy; that is the
proper end of them ; they have a natural
tendency that way.
5. But the natural man still doubts of this
joy we speak of; because he sees and hears
so little of it from them who profess to have
it, and seem to have the best right to it. If
we consider the wretchedness of this life, and
94
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
especially the abundance of sin that is in the
world, what wonder though this their joy re-
tire much inward, and appear little abroad,
where all things are so contrary to it, and so
far are capable of it, to whom it were perti-
ment to vent it 2 Again, we see here, it is
unspeakable; it were a poor thing if he that
hath it could tell it all out. Pauperis est
numerare pecus. And when the SQul hath
most of it, then it remains most within itself,
and is so inwardly taken up with it, that pos-
sibly it can then least of all express it. It is
with joys, as they say of cares and griefs,
Leves loquuntur ingentes stupent. The deep-
est waters run stillest. Res severa est verum
gaudium, says Seneca. True joy is a solid,
grave thing, dwells more in the heart than
in the countenance: whereas, on the con-
trary, base and false joys are but superficial,
skin-deep (as we say); they are all in the
face.
Think not that it is with the godly, as the
prophet says of the wicked, that there is no
peace to them. The Septuagint reads it, no
joy ; certainly it is true; there is no true joy
to the wicked: they may revel and make a
noise, but they rejoice not ; The laughter of
the fool is as the crackling of thorns under
the pot, a great noise but little heat, and soon
at an end. There is no continuing feast, but
that of a good conscience. Wickedness and
real joy can not dwell together, as the very
moralist Seneca hath it often, and at large.
But he that can say, The righteousness of
Jesus Christ is mime, and in him the favor of
God, and the hope of eternal happiness, hath
such a light as can shine in the darkest dun-
geon, yea, in the dark valley of the shadow
of death itself.
Say not thou, If I betake myself to the
way of godliness, I must did farewell to glad-
ness, never a merry day more ; no, on the
contrary, never a truly joyful day till then,
yea, no days at all, but night to the soul, till
it entertain Jesus Christ and his kingdom,
which consists in righteousness, peace, and
joy in the Holy Ghost. Thou dost not sacri-
fice Isaac, which signifies laughter (as St.
Bernard has it), but a ram; not your joy, but
filthy sinful delights which end in sorrow.
Oh seek to know in your experience what
those joys mean ; for all describing and com-
mending them to you will not make you un-
derstand them ; but taste, and see that the
Lord is good ; Lauda mellis dulcedinem quan-
tum potes, qui non gustaverit, non intelliget,
says Augustine ; Praise the sweetness of honey
to the utmost, he who has never tasted it, can
not understand it. You can not see and
know this goodness, but by tasting it; and
having tasted it, all those poor joys you
thought sweet before, will then be bitter and
distasteful to you.
And you that have Christ yours by believ-
ing, know your happiness, and rejoice, and
glory in it. Whatsoever is your outward
condition, rejoice always, and again I say re-
joice, for light is sown to the righteous, and
gladness for the upright in heart. Phil. iv.
4; Psal. xcvii. 11.
VER. 10. Of which salvation the prophets have in-
quired, and searched diligently, who prophesied of
the grace that should come unto you.
VER. 11. Searching what, or what manner of time
the Spirit of Christ which was in them did signify,
when he testified beforehand the sufferings of
Christ, and the glory that should follow.
VER. 12. Unto whom it was revealed, that not unto
themselves, but unto us they did minister the things
which are now reported unto you by them that have
preached the gospel unto you, with the Holy Ghost
sent down from heaven, which things the angels
desire to look into.
IT is the ignorance, or at least the incon-
sideration of Divine things, that makes earth-
ly things, whether good or evil, appear great
in our eyes; therefore the apostle's great aim
is, by representing the certainty and excel-
lency of the belief and hope of Christians to
his afflicted brethren, to strengthen their
minds against all discouragements and oppo-
sitions; that they may account nothing too
hard to do or suffer for so high a cause and
so happy an end. It is the low and mean
thoughts, and the shallow persuasion we
have of things that are spiritual, that is the
cause of all our remissness and coldness in
them. The doctrine of salvation, mentioned
in the former verse as the end of Our Chris-
tian faith, is illustrated in these words, from
its antiquity, dignity, and infallible truth.
It is no modern invention ; for the prophets
inquired after it, and foretold it in former
ages from the beginning. Thus, the preju-
dice of novelty is removed, which usually
meets the most ancient truth in its new dis-
coveries.
Again, it is no mean thing that such men
as were of unquestioned eminency in wisdom
and holiness, did so much study and search
after, and having found it out, were careful
not only to publish it in their own times, but
to record it to posterity ; and this not by the
private motion of their own spirits, but by
the acting and guidance of the Spirit of God;
which likewise sets the truth of their testi-
mony above all doubtfulness and uncertainty.
But taking the three verses entirely to-
gether, we have in them these three things,
testifying how excellent the doctrine of the
gospel is. 1. We have the principal author
of it. 2. The matter of it. 3. The worth
of those who are exercised about it, viz., the
best of men, the prophets and apostles, in
administering it, and the best of all the crea-
tures, the angels, in admiring it.
1. The first author is the absolutely first,
Spirit of God in the prophets, ver. 11, in the
apostles, ver, 12. But the Spirit of Christ,
in ver. 11, is the same spirit that he sent
down on his disciples after his ascending to
glory, and which spoke in his prophets be-
fore his descending to the earth. It is the
Spirit of Christ, proceeding jointly from him
with the Father, as he is the Son of God, and
WER. 10–12.]
95
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
dwelling most richly and fully in him as the
Son of man.
The Holy Ghost is in himself holiness, and
the source and worker of holiness, and au-
thor of this holy doctrine which breathes
nothing but holiness, and urges it most pres-
singly upon all that receive it.
This is the very life of divine faith, touch-
ing the mysteries of salvation, firmly to be-
lieve their revelation by the Spirit of God.
This the word itself testifies, as we see ; and
it is really manifest in it; he carries the live-
ly stamp of Divine inspiration, but there must
be a spiritual eye to discern it. He that is
blind, knows not that the sun shines at noon,
but by the report of others; but they that
see, are assured they see it, and assured by
no other thing but its own light. To ask
one who is a true believer, How know you
the Scriptures to be Divine 2 is the same
as to ask him, How know you light to be
light 2
The soul is nothing but darkness and blind-
ness within, till that same Spirit that shines
without in the word, shines likewise within
it, and effectually makes it light; but that
once done, then is the word read with some
measure of the same spirit by which it was
written, and the soul is ascertained that it is
Divine ; as in bodily sight, there must be a
meeting of inward light, viz., the visual spir-
its with the outward object.
The spirit of God within, brings evidence
with it, and makes itself discernible in the
word; this all arguments, all books and study,
can not attain unto. It is given to believe,
1 Phil. i. 29.
No man knows the things of a man but the
spirit of man, 1 Cor. ii. 11. But how holds
that here ? For if a man speak out the
things that are in his spirit, then others may
know them ; but the apostle's aim there, is to
conclude that the things of God, even such as
were revealed in his word, could not be known
but by his own Spirit ; so that though reveal-
ed, yet they remain still unrevealed till the
Spirit teach within, as well as without ; be-
eause they are intelligible by none, but by
those who are the private scholars and hear-
ers of the Holy Ghost, the author of them ;
and because there are so few of these, there-
fore there is so little real believing amid all
the noise and profession that we make of it.
Who is there (if you will believe them) that
believes not ? And yet truly there is too
much cause to continue the prophet’s re-
gret, Isaiah liii. 1, Who hath believed our
report 2
Learn then to suspect yourselves, and to
find out your own unbelief, that you may de-
sire this Spirit to teach you inwardly those
great mysteries which he outwardly reveals
and teaches by his word. Make use of that
promise, and press the Lord with it, They
shall be all taught of God, Isaiah liv. 13; and
John vi. 45.
But, II. There is here the matter of this
doctrine, which we have in three several ex-
pressions, 1. That which is repeated from
the foregoing verse; it is the Doctrine of
Salvation, that is the end of it. 2. The Doc-
trine of the sufferings and glory of Christ,
as the means. And 3. The Doctrine of
grace, the spring of both.
1. It is the doctrine of salvation, the only
true doctrine of true happiness, which the
wisest of natural men have groped and
sought after with much earnestness, but with
no success; they had no other than the dark
moonlight of nature, and that is not suſ-
ficient to find it out ; only the Sun of Righte-
ousness shining in the sphere of the gospel,
brings life and immortality to light, 2 Tim.
i. 10. No wonder that matural wisdom, the
deepest of it, is far from finding out the true
method and way of cure, seeing it can not dis-
cover the disease of miserable mankind, viz.,
the sinful and wretched condition of nature
by the first disobedience.
Salvation expresses not only that which is
negative, but implies likewise positive and
perfect happiness; thus forgiveness of sins is
put for the whole nature of justification fre-
quently in Scripture. It is more easy to say
of this unspeakable happiness, what it is not,
than what it is. There is in it a full and
final freedom from all annoyance; all tears
are wiped away, and their fountain is dried
up ; all feeling and fear, or danger, of any the
least evil, either of sin or punishment, is ban-
ished for ever; there are no invasions of ene-
mies, no robbing or destroying in all this Ecly
mountain, no voice of complaining in the
streets of the new Jerusalem. Here it is at the
best but interchanges of mornings of joy, with
sad evenings of weepings; but there, there
shall be no light, no need of sun nor moon,
For the glory of the Lord shall lighten it,
and the Lamb shall be the light thereof, Rev.
xxi. 23.
Well may the apostle (as he doth here
throughout this chapter) lay this salvation to
counterbalance all sorrows and persecutions,
and whatsoever hardships can be in the way
to it. The soul that is persuaded of this, in
the midst of storms and tempests enjoys a
calm, triumphs in disgraces, grows richer by
all its losses, and by death itself attains this
immortal life.
Happy are they who have their eye fixed
upon this salvation, and are longing and wait-
ing for it; who see so much of that brightness
and glory, as darkens all the lustre of earthly
things to them, and makes them trample
upon those things which formerly they ad-
mired and doated on with the rest of the fool-
ish world. Those things we account so much
of, are but as rotten wood, or glow-worms
that shine Only in the night of our ignorance
and Vanity : so soon as the light-beam of this
Salvation enters into the soul, it can not much
esteem or affect anything below it; and if
those glances of it which shine in the word,
and in the soul of a Christian, be so bright
96
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
Y
and powerful, what then shall the full sight
and real possession of it be 2
2. The gospel is represented as the Doc-
trime of the sufferings and glory of Christ, as
the means of salvation. The worker of this
salvation, whom the prophets and apostles
make the sum of all their doctrine, is Jesus
Christ, and the sum of that work of redemp-
tion (as we have it here), is his humiliation
and exaltation ; his sufferings, and the glory
that followed thereupon. Now, though this
serve as an encouragement to Christians in
their sufferings, that this is the way by which
their Lord went into his glory, and is true
also of Christ mystical, the head with the
members, as the Scriptures often teach us,
yet I conceive it is here mainly intended as a
summary of the work of our redemption by
Jesus Christ, relating to the salvation men-
tioned ver. 10, and as the cause for the effect,
so it is put for it here. The prophets inquired,
and prophesied of that salvaticn. How 2 By
searching out, and foretelling the sufferings
and glory of Christ. His sufferings, then, and
his after-glories are our salvation. His suffer-
ing is the purchase of our salvation, and his
glory is our assurance of it; he as our head
having triumphed, and being crowned, makes
us likewise sure of victory and triumph. His
having entered on the possession of glory,
makes our hope certain. This is his prayer,
That where he is, there we may be also ; and
this is his own assertion, The glory which thou
gavest me, I have given them, John Xvii. 22,
24. This is his promise, Because I live, ye
shall live also, John xiv. 19. Christ and the
believer are one; this is that great mystery
the apostle speaks of, Eph. v. 30. Though it
is a common known truth, the words and out-
side of it obvious to all, yet none can under-
stand it but they who indeed partake of it. By
virtue of that union, their sins were account-
ed his, and Christ's sufferings are accounted
theirs, and by consequence, his glory, the con-
sequent of his suffering, is likewise theirs.
There is an indissoluble connexion between
the life of Christ, and of a believer. Our life is
had with Christ in God ; and therefore while
we remain there, our life is there, though hid,
and when he who is our life shall appear, we
likewise shall appear with him in glory, Coloss.
iii. 3, 4. Seeing the sufferings and glory of
our Redeemer are the main subject of the
gospel, and the causes of Our Salvation, and
of our comfortable persuasion of it, it is a
wonder that they are not more the matter of
our thoughts. Ought we not daily to con-
sider the bitterness of that cup of wrath he
drank for us, and be wrought to repentance
and hatred of sin, to have sin imbittered to us
by that consideration, and find the sweetness
of his love in that he did drink it, and by that,
be deeply possessed with love to him 2 These
things we now and then speak of, but they
sink not into our minds, as our Savior exhorts,
where he is speaking of those same suffer-
ings. O ! that they were engraven on our
hearts, and that sin were crucified in us, and
the world crucified to us, and we unto the
world, by the cross of Christ Gal. vi. 14.
And let us be frequently considering the
glory wherein he is, and have our eye often
upon that, and Our hearts solacing and refresh-
ing themselves frequently with the thºughts
of that place, and condition wherein Christ is,
and where our hopes are, ere long, to behold
him ; both to see his glory, and to be glorified
with him, is it not reason ? Yea, it is neces-
sary, it can not be otherwise, if our treasure,
and Head be there, that our hearts be there
likewise, Matt. vi. 21 ; Coloss. iii. 1, 2.
The third expression here of the gospel, is,
That it is the doctrine of grace. The work of
redemption itself and the several parts of it,
and the doctrine revealing it, have all the
name of grace; because they all flow from
free grace; that is their spring and first cause.
And it is this wherein the doctrine of salva-
tion is mainly comfortable, that it is free: Ye
are saved by grace, Eph. ii. 8. It is true, God
requires faith, it is through faith ; but he that
require that, gives it too: That is not of your-
selves, it is the gift of God, Eph. ii. 8. It is
wonderful grace to save upon believing ; be-
lieve in Jesus for salvation, and live accord-
ingly, and it is done; there is no more re-
quired to thy pardon, but that thou receive it
by faith. But truly nature can not do this:
it is as impossible for us of Curselves to be-
lieve, as to do. This then is that which
makes it all grace from beginning to end,
that God not only saves upon believing, but
gives believing itself. Christ is called not
only the Author and Finisher of our salva-
tion, but even of our faith, Heb. xii. 2.
Free grace being rightly apprehended, is
that which stays the heart in all estates, and
keeps it from fainting, even in its saddest
times. What though there is nothing in my-
self but matter of sorrow and discomfort, it
can not be otherwise; it is not from myself
that I look for comfort at any time, but from
my God and his free grace. Here is comfort
enough for all times; when I am at the best,
I ought not, I dare not, rely upon myself;
when I am at the worst, I may, and should rely
upon Christ, and his sufficient grace. Though
I be the vilest sinner that ever came to him,
yet I know that he is more gracious than I
am sinful; yea, the more my sin is, the more
glory will it be to his grace to pardon it; it
will appear the richer. Doth not David ar-
gue thus, Psal. xxv. 11: For thy name’s sake,
O Lord, pardon mine iniquity; for it is very
great. But it is an empty fruitless notion of
grace to consider it only in the general, and
in a wandering way: we are to look upon it
particularly, as addressed to us; and it is not
enough that it comes to us, in the message of
him that brings it only to our ear, but, that
we may know what it is, it must come into
us; then it is ours indeed. But if it come to
us in the message only, and we send it awa
again, if it shall so depart, we had better
VER. 10–12.]
97
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
never have heard of it; it will leave a guilti-
ness behind it, that shall make all our sins
weigh much heavier than before.
Inquire whether you have entertained this
grace or not; whether it be come to you, and
into you, or not ; whether the kingdom of
God is within you, as our Savior speaks, Luke
xvii. 21. It is the most woful condition that
can be, not to be far from the kingdom of
God, and yet to fall short, and miss of it. §he
grace of God revealed in the gospel is en-
treating you daily to receive it, is willing to
become yours, if you reject it not. Were your
eyes open to behold the beauty and excel-
lency of this grace, there would need no de-
liberation ; yea, you would endure none. De-
sire your eyes to be opened, and enlightened
from above, that you may know it, and your
hearts opened, that you may be happy by re-
ceiving it.
The apostle, speaking of Jesus Christ as
the foundation of our faith, calls him. The
same, yesterday, to-day, and for ever. Heb.
xiii. 8. Yesterday, under the law, to-day, in
those primitive times, nearest his incarnation,
and for ever, in all succeeding ages. And
the resemblance holds good between the two
cherubim over the mercy-seat, and the two
testaments: those had their faces toward one
another, and both toward the mercy-seat; and
these look to one another in their doctrine,
agreeing perfectly, and both look to Christ,
the true mercy-seat, and the great subject of
the Scriptures. Thus we see here: the things
which the prophets foretold as to come, and
the apostles reported were accomplished,
were the same, and from the same Spirit;
they were the sufferings of Christ, and his
after glory, and in them our salvation by
free grace. The prophecies look forward to
the times of the gospel; and the things then
fulfilled, look back to the prophecies; and
each confirms the other, meeting all in Christ,
who is their truth and centre.
We have spoken already of the author, and
subject of this salvation. Now we come to
say something, lſſ. Concerning the worth of
those who are employed about it, as well in
administering to it, as in admiring it. And
these are the prophets and the apostles: the
first foretold what was to come, the second
preached them when they came to pass.
In the prophets, there are three things here
remarked. 1. Their diligence. 2. The suc-
cess of it. 3. The extent of its usefulness.
1. This their diligence disparages not their
extraordinary visions and revelations, and
that which is added, that the spirit of Christ
was in them, and did foretell the things to
COIn 6.
It was their constant duty, and they being
sensible of their duty, made it their constant
exercise, to search into divine mysteries by
meditation and prayer; yea, and by reading
such holy writers as were already extant in
their times, as Daniel ix, 3; x. 11. For
which cause, some, taking the word actively,
conceive Daniel to be called there a man of
desires, because of his great desire, and dili-
gent search after the knowledge of those high
things. And in this diligent way they con-
stantly waited for those revelations which
Sometimes, when it seemed good unto the
spirit of God, were imparted unto them.
“Prophecy resideth not,” say the Hebrew
doctors, “butin a man who is great in wisdom
and virtue, whose affections overcome him
not in any worldly things, but by his knowl-
edge he overcometh his affections continual-
ly: on such a man the Holy Spirit cometh
down, and his soul is associated to the angels,
and he is changed to another man.” Thus
Maimonides,
It was the way of the prince of darkness
among the idolatrous Gentiles, to speak ei-
ther through senseless statues, or, where
he uttered his oracles by such profane proph-
ets as he had, to cause them in a fury to
mumble forth words which they understood
not, and knew not what they said. But the
Spirit of God being light, and the holy proph-
ets inspired with it, they being diligent at-
tendants on its motions, and searchers of the
mysteries of salvation, understood well what
their business was, and to what purpose
those things of the kingdom of Christ tended,
which they by inspiration did foretell ; and
therefore bended their thoughts this way,
praying, and searching, and waiting for an-
Swers, studying to keep the passage, as it
were, open for the beams of those divine
revelations to come in at ; not to have their
spirits clogged and stopped with earthly and
sinful affections, endeavoring for that calm
and quiet composure of spirit in which the
voice of God's spirit might be the better
heard. See Psal. lxxx. 8, and Hab. ii. 1; in
both which places follows an excellent proph-
ecy concerning Christ and that salvation
which he wrought for his people.
Were the prophets not exempted from the
pains of search and inquiry, who had the
spirit of God not only in a high measure, but
after a singular manner ? How unbeseeming,
then, are slothfulness and idleness in us!
Whether is it, that we judge ourselves ad-
vantaged with more of the Spirit than those
holy men, or that we esteem the doctrines
and mysteries of salvation, on which they
bestowed so much of their labor, unworthy
of ours? These are both so gross, that we
shall be loath to own either of them; and yet
our laziness and negligence in searching after
these things, seem to charge us with some
such thought as one of those.
You will say, this concerns those who suc-
ceed to the work of the prophets and apostles.
in ordinary, the ministers of the gospel.
And it doth indeed fall first upon them. It
is their task indeed to be diligent, and, as the
apostle exhorts his Timothy, to attend on
reading, 1 Tim. iv. 13; but, above all, to
study to have much experimental knowledge
of God and his Son, Jesus Christ; and for
1
98
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
this end, to disentangle and free themselves,
as much as is possible, from lower things, in
order to the search of heavenly mysteries.
Prov. xviii. 1. As they are called angels, so
ought they to be, as much as they can attain
to it, in a constant nearness unto God, and
attendance on him, like unto the angels, and
to look much into these things as the angels
here are said to do; to endeavor to have
their souls purified from the affections of sin,
that the light of divine truth may shine clear
in them, and not be fogged and misted with
filthy vapors; to have the impressions of
God clearly written in their breasts, not
mixed and blurred with earthly characters;
seasoning all their readings and common
studies with much prayer and divine medi-
tation. They who converse most with the
king, and are inward with him, know most
of the affairs of state, and even the secrets of
them, which are hid from others; and cer-
tainly those of God's messengers who are
oftenest with himself, can not but understand
their business best, and know most of his
meaning, and the affairs of his kingdom; and
to that end it is confessed that singular dili-
gence is required in them. But seeing the
Lord hath said, without exception, that his
secret is with them thut fear him, Psalm xxv.
14, and that he will reveal himself and his
Saving truths to those that humbly seek
them ; do not any of you do yourselves so
much injury as to debar yourselves from
sharing in your measure of the search of
these things, which were the study of the
É." and which by their study and pub-
ishing them, are made the more accessible
and easy to us. Consider that they do con-
cern us universally, if we would be saved ;
for it is salvation here that they studied.
Search the scriptures, says our Savior, John
v. 39, and that is the motive, if there can be
any that may be thought in reason pressing
enough, or if we do indeed think so, For in
them ye think to have eternal life. And it is
there to be found: Christ is this salvation
and this eternal life. And he adds further,
It is they (these scriptures) that testify of
me. These are the golden mines in which
alone the abiding treasures of eternity are to
be found, and therefore worthy all the dig-
ging and pains we can bestow on them.
Besides their industry in this inquiry and
search, there are here expressed their ardent
affection to the thing they prophesied of, and
their longings and wishes for its accomplish-
ment, viz., the coming of Jesus Christ, the
promised Messiah, the top of all their desires,
the great hope and the light of Israel. No
wonder they desired his day, who had so
much joy in the seeing it so far off, as over
the head almost of two thousand years. Faith
QVerlooking them, and foreseeing it so in
Abraham, his heart danced for joy. John
viii. 56. Abraham saw my day and rejoiced.
And this is conceived to be the meaning
of those expressions in that mystical song, as
they suit those times of the Jewish church,
breathing out her longings for the coming of
her beloved. His speaking by the prophets
was his voice as afar off; but his incarnation
was his coming near, and kissing his church
with the kisses of his mouth. Cant. i. 1. And
to omit other expressions throughout the
song, the last chapter, ver. 1, is tender and
pathetical: O' that thou wert as my brother,
&c.; and the last words of it, Make haste, my
beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young
hart upon the mountains of spices. And when
this salvation came in the fulness of time, we
see how joyfully good old Simeon embraces
it, and thought he had seen enough, and
therefore upon the sight desired to have his
eyes closed : Now let thy servant depart in
peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation.
Luke ii. 29. Therefore our Savior says to
his apostles, Matt. xiii. 16, Blessed are your
eyes, for they see, for many prophets and
righteous men have desired to see those things
which ye see, and have not seen them. This
is he whom we disesteem and make so small
account of, being now so clearly revealed,
whom they studied, and sought, and wished
so much for, so many ages before.
2dly. The success of their search is remark-
ed; in seeking they found the certainty, and
the time of his coming ; they sought out till
they found, and then they prophesied of that
salvation and grace; they searched what, and
what manner of time, and the Spirit did man-
ifestly foretell it them.
They sought to know what manner of time
it should come to pass, viz., in a time of great
distress, and bad estate of the people, as all
the prophets testify: and particularly that
place, Gen. xlix. 10, gives an express char-
acter of the time; though there be some di-
versity of exposition of the particular words,
yet the main sense is agreed on by all sound
interpreters, and the Chaldee paraphrase hath
it expressly, that Shiloh is the Messiah.
And of his sufferings and after-glories they
prophesied very clearly, as Psal. xxii., Isa.
liii., &c. And our Savior himself makes use
of their testimony in both these points, Luke
xxiv, 25–27.
3dly. There is the benefit of their search
and finding, in the eatent of it, verse 12, to
the believers in the apostle's times, and to
the succeeding Christian church, and so to us
in these days; but in some peculiar sense the
prophets ministered to the people of those
times wherein Christ did suffer and enter into
glory, inasmuch as they were the first who
enjoyed the accomplishment of those prophe-
cies, they being fulfilled in their own days.
The prophets knew well that the things
they prophesied were not to be fulfilled in
their own times, and therefore in their proph-
esying concerning them, though both them-
selves and the people of God who were con-
temporary with them, did reap the comfort
of that doctrine, and were by faith partakers
of the same salvation; and so it was to
WER. 10–12.]
99
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
themselves as well as of us; yet in regard of
the accomplishment, they knew it was not to
themselves, it was not to be brought to pass
in their days; and, therefore, speaking of the
glory of Christ's kingdom, they often foretell
it for the latter days, as their phrase is. And
as we have the things they prophesied of, so
we have this peculiar benefit of their prophe-
cies, that their suiting so perfectly with the
event and performance, serves much to con-
firm our Christian faith.
There is a foolish and miserable way of
verifying this expression,-men ministering
the doctrine of salvation to others and not to
themselves : carrying it in all their heads and
tongues, and none of it in their hearts; not
hearing it even while they preach it; extend-
ing the bread of life to others, and eating
none of it themselves. And this, the apostle
says, that he was most careful to avoid, and
therefore dealt severely with his body, that
it might not in this way endanger his soul.
I beat down my body, says he, and keep it in
subjection, lest when I have preached to oth-
ers, I myself should be a cast-away. 1 Cor. ix.
27. It is not in this sense that the prophets
ministered to others, and not to themselves.
No, they had joy and comfort in the very
hopes of the Redeemer to come, and in the
belief of the things which any others had
spoken, and which themselves spake con-
cerning him. And thus the true preachers
of the gospel, though their ministerial gifts
are for the use of others, yet that salvation
which they preach, they lay hold on and par-
take of themselves; as your boxes, wherein
perfumes are kept for garments and other
uses, are themselves perfumed by keeping
them.
We see how the prophets ministered it as
the never-failing consolation of the church
in those days, in all their distresses. It is
wonderful when they are foretelling either
the sorrows and afflictions, or the temporal
restoration and deliverances of that people of
the Jews, what sudden outleaps they will
make, to speak of the kingdom of Jesus
Christ and the days of the gospel, insomuch
that he who considers not the spirit they
were moved by, would think it were incohe-
rence and impertinency; but they knew well
what they meant, that those news were never
unseasonable, nor beside the purpose; that
the sweetness of those thoughts, viz., the
consideration of the Messiah, was able (to
such as believed) to allay the bitterest dis-
tresses, and that the great deliverance he was
to work, was the top and sum of all deliver-
ances. Thus their prophecies of him were
F. comfort to themselves and other be-
iewers then : and further, were to serve for a
clear evidence of the divine truth of those
mysteries in the days of the gospel, in and
after their fulfilment.
This sweet stream of their doctrine did, as
the rivers, make its own banks fertile and
pleasant as it ran by, and flowed still forward
to after-ages, and by the confluence of more
such prophecies, grew greater as it went, till
it fell in with the main current of the gospel
in the New Testament, both acted and preach-
ed by the Great Prophet himself whom they
foretold as to come, and recorded by his apos-
tles and evangelists, and thus united into one
river, clear as crystal. This doctrine of sal-
vation in the scriptures hath still refreshed
the city of God, his church under the gospel,
and still shall do so, till it empty itself into
the ocean of eternity.
The first discovery we have of this stream
nearest its source, the eternal purpose of di-
vine mercy, is in that promise which the
Lord himself preached in few words to our
first parents, who had newly made them-
selves and their race miserable: The seed of
the woman shall break the head of the serpent.
Gen. iii. 15.
The agreement of the predictions of the
prophets with the things themselves, and the
preaching of the apostles following (the other
kind of men employed in this salvation), make
up one organ, or great instrument, tuned by
the same hand, and sounding by the same
breath of the Spirit of God; and that is ex-
pressed here as the common authority of the
doctrine in both, and the cause of their har-
mony and agreement in it.
All these extraordinary gifts of the Holy
Ghost, the calling of prophets and apostles and
evangelists, and the ordinary ministry of the
Gospel by pastors and teachers, tend to that
great design which God hath in building his
church, in making up that great assembly of
all the elect, to enjoy and praise him for all
eternity, Eph. iv. 11. For this end he sent
his Son, out of his bosom, and for this end he
sends forth his messengers to divulge that
salvation which his son hath wrought, and
sends down his spirit upon them, that they
may be fitted for so high a service. Those
cherubim wonder how guilty man escapes
their flaming swords, and re-enters paradise.
The angels see that their companions who
fell are not restored, but behold their room
filled up with the spirits of just men, and they
envy it not: Which mystery the angels desire
to look into ; and this is added in the close of
these words for the extolling of it.
The angels look upon what they have seen
already fulfilled, with delight and admiration,
and what remains, namely, the full accom-
plishment of this great work in the end of
time, they look upon with desire to see it fin-
ished; it is not a slight glance they take of
it, but they fix their eyes and look steadfastly
on it, viz., that mystery of godliness, God
manifested in the flesh ; and it is added, seen
of angels, 1 Tim. iii. 16.
The Word made flesh, draws the eyes of
those glorious spirits, and possesses them
with wonder to see the Almighty Godhead
joined with the weakness of a man, yea, of
an infant. He that stretched forth the heav-
ens bound up in swaddling clothes! and to
100
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
surpass all the wonders of his life, this is be-
yond all admiration, that the Lord of Life
was subject to death, and that his love to re-
bellious mankind moved him both to take on
and lay down that life.
It is no wonder the angels admire these
things, and delight to look upon them ; but
it is strange that we do not so. They view
them steadfastly, and we neglect them: either
we consider them not at all, or give them but
a transient look, half an eye. That which
was the great business of the prophets and
apostles, both for their own times, and to
convey them to us, we regard not; and turn
our eyes to foolish wandering thoughts, which
angels are ashamed at. They are not so
concerned in this great mystery as we are ;
they are but mere beholders, in comparison
of us, yea, they seem rather to be losers some
way, in that our nature, in itself inferior to
theirs, is in Jesus Christ exalted above theirs,
Heb. ii. 16. We bow down to the earth, and
study, and grovel in it, rake into the very
bowels of it, and content ourselves with the
outside of the unsearchable riches of Christ,
and look not within it; but they, having no
will nor desire but for the glory of God, be-
ing pure flames of fire burning only in love to
him, are no less delighted than amazed with
the bottomless wonders of his wisdom and
goodness shining in the work of our redemp-
tion.
It is our shame and folly, that we lose our-
selves and our thoughts in poor childish
things, and trifle away our days we know
not how, and let these rich mysteries lie un-
regarded. They look up upon the Deity in
itself with continual admiration; but then
they look down to this mystery as another
wonder. We give them an ear in public, and
in a cold formal way stop conscience's mouth
with some religious performances in private,
and no more; but to have deep and frequent
thoughts and to be ravished in the meditation
of our Lord Jesus, once on the cross, and now
in glory, how few of us are acquainted with
this
We see here excellent company, and ex-
amples not only of the best of men that have
been—we have them for fellow-servants and
fellow-students—but, if that can persuade us,
we may all study the same lesson with the
very angels, and have the same thoughts
with them. This the soul doth, which often
entertains itself with the delightful admira-
tion of Jesus Christ and the redemption he
hath wrought for us.
VER. 13. Wherefore, gird up the loins of your mind,
be sober, and hope to the end, for the grace that is
§,be brought unto you, at the revelation of Jesus
rist.
The great error of man's mind, and the
cause of all his errors of life, is the diverting
of the soul from God, and turning downward
to inferior confidences and comforts; and this
mischoice is the very root of all our miseries:
therefore the main end of the holy word of
God, is to untie the hearts of men from the
world, and reduce them to God as their
only rest and solid comfort; and this is here
the apostle's mark at which all the preceding
discourse aims; it all meets and terminates
in this exhortation, Wherefore, gird up the
loins of your mind.
In the words are these three things, 1st,
The great stay and comfort of the soul,
which the apostle repeats, and represents to
his afflicted brethren. 2dly, His exciting
them to the right apprehension and confident
expectation of it. 3dly, The inference of that
exhortation.
1. The great matter of their comfort is, The
grace which is to be brought to them at the
revelation of Jesus Christ. Some for grace
read joy, having as it seems, for xàow read
Xapāv; the words are not more near one to an-
other, that the things they signify, grace and
joy ; but it is most commonly thus read,
The estate of grace and that of glory, are
not only so inseparably connected, but so like
one to the other ; yea, so essentially the
same, that the same expressions in Scripture
do often fit both of them ; and so fit them,
that it is doubtful for which of the two to un-
derstand them : but the hazard is not great,
seeing they are so near, and so one, grace
being glory begun, and glory grace completed,
and both are often called the kingdom of
God. So the grace here said to be brought
to them, is either the doctrine of grace in the
gospel wherein Jesus Christ is revealed, and
that grace in him (for the v hole tenor of
the covenant of grace, every clause of it,
holds in him ; his precious name runs through
it all); or, it is the grace of salvation which is
to be fully perfected at the last and clearest
revelation of Jesus Christ. And for this rather
I take it here, inasmuch as the apostle's near-
est foregoing words were concerning it, and
it is set up here as the object of hope, which,
though often put for faith, yet, in its proper
notion, looks out to that which is to come.
This is the last act of grace, and yet still
it is called by its own name, and not turned
into the name of merit, notwithstanding all
the obedience and all the sufferings of the
saints that have gone before it; yea, even the
salvation to be revealed to them, is called
grace. But it is needless to insist on this, for
certainly none who partake of grace, will be
of another mind, or ever admit the mixture
of the least notion of self-deserving.
Though much dispute hath been bestowed
on this, and questions have been multiplying
in the disputant's hands (as is usual in con-
troversies), one growing out of another, yet
truly I think the debate in this matter to be
but waste; it is not only against the voice of
the Scriptures, and of grace itself in the soul,
but even against Sound reason, to imagine
any meriting, properly taken, in any mere
creature at his Creator's hand, who hath
given him his being; of which gift all his
WER. 13.]
101
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
services and obedience fall short, so that he
can never come to be upon even disengaged
terms, much less to oblige anew, and deserve
somewhat further. Besides, that same grace
by which any one serves and obeys God, is
likewise his own gift, as it is said, 1 Chron.
xxix. 14, All things come of thee, and of thine
own have I given thee. Both the ability and
the will of giving to him, are from him ; so
that in these respects, not angels, norman in
innocency, could properly merit at the hands
of God, much less man lost, redeemed again,
and so coming under the new obligation of
infinite mercy. And this is so evident a
truth, that the most learned and most inge-
nious jesuits and schoolmen have, in divers
passages of their writings, acknowledged it,
that there can not be any compensation, and
much less merit from the creature to God,
but only in relation to his own free purpose,
and the tenure of his word and covenant,
which is inviolable, because he is unchange-
able, and truth itself.
His first grace he gives freely, and no less
freely the increases of it, and with the same
gracious hand sets the crown of glory upon
all the grace that he hath given before. It
is but the following forth of his own work,
and fulfilling his own thoughts of free love,
which love hath no cause but in himself, and
finds, none worthy, but gives them all the
worthiness they have, and accepts of their
love, not as worthy in itself, to be accepted,
but because he himself hath wrought it in
them. Not only the first tastes, but the full
draught of the waters of life is freely given,
Rev. xxii. 17; nothing is brought with them
but thirst.
That is to be brought.] Not that is brought,
3r, that shall be brought, but if we will ren-
der it strictly, it is, that is a bringing to you.
That blessedness, that consummation of
grace the Saints are hastening forward to,
walking on in their way wheresoever it lies
indifferently, through honor and dishonor,
through evil report and good report, 2 Cor.
vi. 8. And as they are hastening to it, it is
hastening to them in the course of time;
every day brings it nearer to them than be-
fore; and notwithstanding all difficulties and
dangers in the way, they who have their eye
and hopes upon it, shall arrive at it, and it
shall be brought safe to their hand ; all the
malice of men and devils shall not be able
to cut them short of this grace that is a bring-
ing to them against the day of the revelation
of Jesus Christ.
At the revelation of Jesus Christ.] This
is repeated from the 7th verse. And it is
termed a day of revelation, a revelation of
the just judgment of God, Rom. ii. 5. And
thus it would be to all, were it not that it is
withal the revelation of Jesus Christ; there-
fore is it a day of grace, all light and bless-
edness to them who are in him, because they
shall appear in him, and if he be glorious,
they shall not be inglorious and ashamed.
Indeed were our secret sins then to be, set
before our own eyes, in their most affrighted
visage, and to be set open to the view of an-
gels and men, and to the eye of divine jus-
tice, and we left alone so revealed, who is
there that could gather any comfort, and
would not rather have their thoughts filled
with horror at the remembrance and expecta-
tion of that day ? And thus indeed all un-
believing and ungodly men may look upon
it, and find it terrible; but to those who are
shadowed under the robe of righteous Jesus,
yea, who are made one with him, and shall
partake of his glory in his appearing, it is the
Sweetest, the most comfortable thought that
their souls can be entertained and possessed
withal, to remember this glorious revelation
of their Redeemer.
It is their great grief here, not that them-
selves are hated and vilified, but that their
Lord Jesus is so little known, and therefore
so much despised in the world. He is veiled
and hid from the world. Many nations ac-
knowledge him not at all; and many of those
that do in word confess, yet in deed deny
him. Many that have a form of godliness,
do not only want, but mock and scoff at the
power of it; and to such Christ is not known,
his excellences are hid from their eyes.
Now this glory of their Lord being precious
to them that love him, they rejoice much in
the consideration of this, that there is a day
at hand wherein he shall appear in his bright-
ness and full of glory to all nations, and all
shall be forced to acknowledge him ; it shall
be without doubt and unquestioned to all,
that he is the Messiah, the Redeemer, the
Judge of the World. :
And as it is the day of his revelation, it is
also the revelation of all the adopted sons of
God in him. See Rom. viii. 9. They are
now accounted the refuse of the world, ex-
posed to all kinds of contempt; but then the
beams of Christ's glory shall beautify them,
and they shall be known for his. See 1 John
iii. 2; Col. iii. 4.
Next, there is, II. The exhortation, by
which the apostle excites them to the right
apprehension and confident expectation of
this grace—hope to the end. The difference
of these two graces, faith and hope, is so
small, that the one is often taken for the
other in Scripture; it is but a different as-
pect of the same confidence, faith apprehend-
ing the infallible truth of those divine prom-
ises of which hope doth assuredly expect the
accomplishment, and that is their truth ; so
that this immediately results from the other.
This is the anchor fixed within the veil,
which keeps the soul firm against all the
tossings on these swelling seas, and the winds
and tempests that arise upon them. The
firmest thing in this inferior world is a be-
lieving soul.
Faith establishes the heart on Jesus Christ,
and hope lifts it up, being on that rock, over
the head of all intervenient dangers, crosses,
102
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
and temptations, and sees the glory and hap-
piness that follow after them.
To the end..] Or perfectly: and therefore
the Christian seeks most earnestly, and yet
waits most patiently. Psal. cxxx. 6. Indeed,
this hope is perfect in continuance, it is a
hope unto the end, because it is perfect in its
nature, although imperfect in degree. Some-
times doubtings are intermixed with it in
the souls of Christians, yet this is their in-
Jirmity, as the psalmist speaks (Psal. lxxvii.
10), not the infirmity and insufficiency of the
object of their hope. Worldly hopes are in
their own nature imperfect; they do imply,
in their very being, doubtfulness and waver-
ing, because the things whereon they are
built are inconstant and uncertain, and full
of deceit and disappointments. How can
that hope be immoveable which is built upon
moving sands or quagmire ? That which is
itself unfixed can not give stability to any
other thing resting upon it; but because the
truth and goodness of the immutable God
are the foundation of spiritual hope, there-
fore it is assured, and like Mount Zion that
can not be removed (Psal. cxxv. 1); and this
is its perfection.
Now the apostle exhorts his brethren to
endeavor to have their hearts possessed with
as high a measure and degree of this hope
as may be ; seeing in itself it is so perfect
and firm, so assured—a hope, he would have
them aspire to all the assurance and perfec-
tion of it they can attain.
This exercise of hope, as I conceive, is not
Only to have the habit of it strong in the
soul, but to act it often, to be often turning
that way, to view that approaching day of
Hiberty: Lift up your heads, for the day of
your redemption draweth nigh. Luke xxi. 28.
Where this hope is often acted, it will grow
strong, as all habits do ; and where it is strong
it will work much, and delight to act often,
and will control both the doubtings and the
other many impertinent thoughts of the
mind, and force them to yield the place to it.
Certainly they who long much for that com-
ing of Christ, will often look up to it. We
are usually hoping after other things, which
do but offer themselves to draw us after them,
and to scorn us. What are the breasts of most
of us, but so many nests of foolish hopes and
fears intermixed, which entertain us day and
night, and steal away our precious hours
from us, that might be laid out so gainfully
upon the wise and sweet thoughts of eter-
nity, and upon the blessed and assured hope
of the coming of our beloved Savior
The other words of exhortation here used,
are subservient to this end, and this hope
may be the more perfect and firm ; a similar
exhortation is much after the same manner
joined by our Savior (Luke xii. 35) with the
expectance and waiting for his coming; and
in this posture the Israelites, eating the pas-
sover, were expecting their deliverance ; so
we our full and final freedom.
If you would have much of this, call off
your affections from other things, that they
may be capable of much of it. The same
eye can not both look up to heaven and down
to earth at the same time. The more your
affections are trussed up and disentangled
from the world, the more expedite and ac-
tive will they be in this hope: the more so-
ber they are, the less will they fill themselves
with the coarse delights of earth, the more
room will there be in them, and the more
they shall be filled with this hope. It is
great folly in our spiritual warfare to charge
ourselves superfluously. The fulness of one
thing hinders the receiving and admittance
of any other, especially of things so opposite
as these fulnesses are. Be not drunk with
wine, wherein is earcess, but be ye filled with
the Holy Ghost, saith the apostle, Ephes. v.
18. That is a brutish fulness, which makes
a man no man ; this divine fulness makes
him more than a man ; it were happy to be
so filled with this, as that it might be called
a kind of drunkenness, as it was with the
apostles, Acts ii.
Be sober.] Or watch. The same word
signifies both, and with good reason; for you
know the unsober can not watch. Now
though one main part of sobriety, and that
which more properly and particularly bears
this name, viz., temperance in meat and drink,
is here intended ; and though against the op-
posite to this, not only the purity and spirit-
uality of religion, but even moral virtue in-
weighs as its special enemy, yea, nature it-
self; and they that only naturally consider
the body and its interest of life and health,
find reason enough to cry down this base in-
temperance, which is so hateful by its own
deformity, and withal carries its punishment
along with it; although (I say) this sobriety
is indeed most necessary for the preservation
of grace and of the spiritual temper of the
soul, and is here intended, yet, I conceive, it
is not all that is here meant; the word is
more general, comprehending the moderate
and sober use of all things worldly. As the
apostle says, Gird up the loins of your mind,
so it is to be understood, let your minds be
sober, all your affections inwardly attemper-
ed to your spiritual condition, not glutting
yourselves with fleshy and perishing delights
of any kind; for the more you take in of
these, the less you shall have of spiritual
comfort and of this perfect hope. They that
pour out themselves upon present delights,
look not like strangers here, and hopeful ex-
pectants of another life and better pleasures.
And certainly the captain of our salvation
will not own them for his followers, who lie
down to drink of these waters, but only such
as in passing take of them with their hand.
As excessive eating or drinking both makes
the body sickly and lazy, fit for nothing but
sleep, and besots, the mind, as it cloys up
with filthy crudities the ways through which
the spirit should pass, bemiring them, and
VER. 13.]
103
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
making them more heavily, as a coach in a
deep way; thus doth all immoderate use of
the world, and its delights, wrong the soul in
its spiritual condition, makes it sickly and
feeble, full of spiriual distempers and inac-
tivity; benumbs the graces of the Spirit, and
fills the soul with sleepy vapors, makes it
grow secure and heavy in spiritual exercises,
and obstructs the way and motion of the
Spirit of God in the soul. Therefore, if you
would be spiritual, healthful, and vigorous,
and enjoy much of the consolations of heav-
en, be sparing and Sober in those of the earth,
and what you abate of the one, shall be cer-
tainly made up in the other. Health, with
a good constitution of body, is more à con-
stant, permanent pleasure, than that of ex-
cess and a momentary pleasing of the palate:
thus the comfort of this hope is a more re-
fined and more abiding contentment than any
that is to be found in the passing enjoyments
of this world ; and it is a foolish bargain to
exchange a drachm of the one for many
pounds of the other. Consider how pres-
singly the Apostle St. Paul reasons, 1 Cor.
ix. 25, And every man that striveth for the
mastery is temperate in all things. And take
withal our Savior’s exhortation : Be sober
and watch, for ye know not at what hour your
Lord will come. Matt. xxv. 13.
The double-minded man (says St. James) is
unstable in all his ways, Jam. i. 8. Although
the word usually signifies deceitfulness and
dissimulation of mind—answering to the He-
brew phrase a heart and a heart—yet here I
conceive it hath another sense, agreeable to
the apostle's present discourse and scope; it
implies doubtfulness and unsettled wavering
of mind.
It is impossible that the course of life can
be any other than uneven and incomposed, if
the spring of it, the heart, whence are the is-
sues of life, be so. A man that is not agreed
within, not of one mind with himself, al-
though there were nothing to trouble or alter
him from without, that inward commotion is
a sufficient principle and cause of inconstan-
cy. How much more then must he waver,
when he is assaulted, and beat upon by out-
ward oppositions ! . He is like the waves of
the sea, of himself ever fluctuating to and
fro, according to the natural instability of
that element, and at the same time exposed
to the tossing of all the waves that arise.
It is, therefore, in religion, a main thing,
to have the heart established and fixed in the
belief and hope of the great things we look
for : this will beget strength of resolution,
and constancy in action, and in suffering too.
And this is here our apostle's great intent, to
ballast the souls of his brethren with this
firm belief, that they might sail even and
steady in those seas of trouble. Wherefore
(says he), if these things we have spoken be
thus, if there is indeed truth in them, and
§. believe it to be so, what remains then,
ut to resolve for it upon any terms, to fit out
for the journey, whatsoever be the difficul-
ties, and amid them all to keep up the soul by
that certain hope that will not disappoint us.
What he hath said before, is, as it were,
showing them some fruits, some clusters of
grapes, of that promised land; and this ex-
hortation is answerable to Caleb’s words,
Numb. xiii. 30: Seeing it so good a land, let
us go up and possess it. Though there be
fleshly objects, sons of Anak, giants of tempta-
tions, and afflictions, and sins to be overcome,
erg it be ours, yet it is well worth all our la-
bor, and our God hath ascertained us of the
victory, and given us, by his own word, un-
doubted hope of possessing it.
That which he principally exhorts unto in
this verse is the right placing and firm con-
tinuing of our hope. When we consider how
much of our life is taken up this way, in
hoping for things we have not, and that
even they who have most of what others
are desiring and pursuing, are still hoping
for somewhat further, that when men have
attained one thing, though it be some-
thing they promised themselves to rest con-
tented withal, yet presently upon obtaining
it, hope begins to find out some new matter
for itself; I say considering the incessant
working of this passion throughout our life,
it is of very much concernment for us to give
it a right object, and not still to be living in
Vanity and uncertainty. Here is, then, that
for our hope to apply itself to, after which it
needs not change, nor can change without the
greatest loss. Hope for the grace that is
coming at the revelation of Jesus Christ; be-
stow all your hope on this and recall it not.
Hope perfectly, and to the end.
The other part of the exhortation relates to
this as the main end, and in the original runs
in this form : Wherefore, girding up the loins
of your mind, being sober, hope. And to the
end that hope may be the more perfect and
endure to the end, and be more like itself,
i. e., heavenly, your minds must be freed
from the earth, that they may set for heaven.
And this is expressed in two several words,
but both meaning much the same thing :
that temper of sobriety, and that posture of
being girt, are no other than the some remo-
val of earthly-mindedness and incumbering
cares and desires of earthly things.
Gird up the loins.] The custom of those
countries was, that wearing long garments,
they trussed them up for work or a journey.
Chastity is indeed a Christian grace, and a
great part of the Soul's freedom and spiritual-
ness, and fits it much for divine things, yet I
think it is not so particularly and entirely in-
tended in this expression, as St. Jerome and
others take it; for though the girding of the
loins seemed to them to favor that sense, it
is only an allusion to the manner of girding
up which was then used ; and besides, the
apostle here makes it ciear that he meant
somewhat else; for he says, The loins of
your minds. Gather up your affections that
104
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
they hang not down to hinder you in your
race, and so, in your hopes of obtaining; and
do not only gather them up, but tie them up,
that they fall not down again, or if they do,
be sure to gird them straiter than before.
Thus be still as men prepared for a journey,
tending to another place. This is not our home,
nor the place of our rest: therefore our loins
must be still girt up, our affections kept from
training and dragging down upon the earth.
Men who are altogether earthly and profane,
are so far from girding up the loins of their
mind, that they set them wholly downward.
The very highest part of their soul is glued
to the earth, and they are daily partakers of
the serpent’s curse, they go on their belly and
eat the dust: they mind earthly things. Phil.
iii. 19. Now this disposition is inconsistent
with grace; but they that are in some meas-
ure truly godly, though they grovel not so,
yet may be somewhat guilty of suffering
their affections to fall too low, that is, to be
too much conversant with vanity, and further
engaged than is meet, to some things that are
worldly ; and by this means they may abate
of their heavenly hopes, and render them less
perfect, less clear and sensible to their souls.
And because they are most subject to take
this liberty in the fair and calm weather of
prosperity, God doth often wisely and merci-
fully cause rough blasts of affliction to arise
upon them, to make them gather their loose
garments nearer to them, and gird them closer.
Let us then remember our way, and where
we are, and keep our garments girt up, for
we walk amid thorns and briers which, if
we let them down, will entangle and stop us,
and possibly tear our garments. We walk
through a world where there is much mire
of sinful pollutions, and therefore it can not
but defile them; and the crowd we are among
will be ready to tread on them, yea, our own
feet may be entangled in them, and so make
us stumble, and possibly fall. Our only safest
way is to gird up our affections wholly.
This perfect hope is enforced by the whole
strain of it; for well may we fix our hope on
that happiness to which we are appointed in
the eternal election of God, ver. 2, and born
to it by our new birth, wer. 3, 4, and preserved
to it by his almighty power, ver. 5, and can
not be cut short of it by all the afflictions and
oppositions in the way; no, nor so much as
deprived by them of our present joy and com-
fort in the assurance of it, ver. 6,7,8,9. And
then being taught the greatness and excel-
lency of that blessed salvation, by the doc-
trine of the prophets and apostles, and the
admiration of angels, all these conspire to
confirm our hope, to make it perfect and per-
severing to the end.
And we may also learn by the foregoing
doctrine, that this is the place of our trial and
conflict, but the place of our rest is above.
We must here have our loins girt, but when
come there, wenay wear our long white robes
at their full length without disturbance, for
there is nothing there but peace, and without
danger of defilement, for no unclean thing is
there, yea the streets of that new Jerusalem are
paved with gold. To him, then, who hath pre-
pared that city for us, let us ever give praise.
VER. 14. As obedient children, not fashioning your-
selves according to the former lusts, in your igno-
TàIl C62.
VER. 15. But as he which hath called you is holy, so
be ye holy in all manner of conversation.
V. 16. Because it is written, Be ye holy, for I am
Oly.
Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, says Da-
vid, and a light unto my paths, Psal. cxix. 105:
not only comfortable, as light is to the eyes,
but withal directive, as a lamp to his feet.
Thus here the apostle doth not only furnish
consolation against distress, but exhorts and
directs his brethren in the way of holiness,
without which, the apprehension and feeling
of those comforts can not subsist.
This is no other than a clearer and fuller
expression, and further pressing of that so-
briety and spiritualness of mind and life,
which he jointly exhorted unto, with that
duty of perfect hope, ver. 13, as inseparably
connected with it. If you would enjoy this
hope, be not conformed to the lusts of your
former ignorance, but be holy.
There is no doctrine in the world either so
pleasant or so pure as that of Christianity: it
is matchless, both in sweetness and holiness.
The faith and hope of a Christian have in
them an abiding precious balm of comfort;
but this is never to be so lavished away, as
to be poured into the puddle of an impure
conscience: no, that were to lose it unwor-
thily. As many as have this hope purify
themselves, even as he is pure. , 1 John iii. 3.
Here they are commanded to be holy as he is
holy. Faith first purifies the heart (Acts xv.
9), empties it of the love of sin, and then fills
it with the consolation of Christ and the hope
of glory.
It is a foolish misgrounded fear, and such
as argues inexperience of the nature and
workings of divine grace, to imagine that the
assured hope of salvation will beget unholi-
ness and presumptuous boldness in sin, and
that therefore the doctrine of that assurance
is a doctrine of licentiousness. Our apostle,
we see, is not so sharp-sighted as these men
think themselves; he apprehends no such
matter, but indeed supposes the contrary as
unquestionable ; he takes not assured hope
and holiness as enemies, but joins them as
nearest friends: hope perfectly, and be holy.
They are mutually strengthened and in-
creased each by the other. The more assu-
rance of salvation, the more holiness, the
more delight in it, and study of it as the only
way to that end. And as labor is most pleas-
ant when we are made surest it shall not be
lost, nothing doth make the soul sonimble and
active in obedience as this oil of gladness, this
assured hope of glory. Again, the more ho-
liness there is in the soul, the clearer always
is this assurance; as we see the face of the
WER. 14—16.]
105
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
heavens best, when there are fewest clouds.
The greatest affliction doth not damp this
hope so much as the smallest sin; yea, it may
be the more lively and sensible to the soul
by affliction; but by sin it always suffers loss,
as the experience of all Christians does cer-
tainly teach them.
The apostle exhorts to obedience, and en-
forceth it by a most persuasive reason. His
exhortation is, 1. Negative, Not fashioning
Jourselves. 2. Positive, Be ye holy.
1. For the negative part of the exhortation.
That from which he would remove and sep-
arate them is lusts : this is in Scripture the
usual name of all the irregular and sinful de-
sires of the heart, both the polluted habits of
them and their corrupt streams, both as they
exist within and as they outwardly vent
themselves in the lives of men. The apostle
St. John (1 John ii. 17) calls it the Lust of
the world, and (verse 15) Love of the world;
and then (verse 16) branches it into those
three, which are, indeed, the base anti-trin-
ity that the world worships, The lust of the
eyes, the lust of the flesh, and the pride of life.
The soul of man unconverted is no other
than a den of impure lusts, wherein dwell
pride and uncleanness, avarice, malice, &c.,
just as Babylon is described, Rev. xviii. 2, or
as Isa. xiii. 21. Were a man's eyes opened,
he would as much abhor to remain with him-
self in that condition as to dwell in a house
full of snakes and serpents, as St. Austin says.
And the first part of conversion is at once to
rid the soul of these noisome inhabitants; for
there is no one at all found naturally vacant
and free from them. Thus the apostle here
expresses of the believers to whom he wrote,
that these lusts were theirs before, in their
ignorance.
There is a truth implied in it, viz., that all
sin arises from some kind of ignorance, or, at
least, from present inadvertence and inconsid-
eration, turning away the mind from the
light; which therefore, for the time, is as if
it were not, and is all one with ignorance in
the effect, and therefore the works of sin are
all called works of darkness; for were the true
visage of sin seen by a full light, undressed
and unpainted, it were impossible, while it
so appeared, that any one soul could be in
love with it; it would rather fly it, as hid-
eous and abominable. But because the soul
unrenewed is all darkness, therefore it is all
lust and love of sin; there is no order in it,
because no light. As at the first in the
world, confusion and darkness went together,
and darkness was upon the face of the deep, it
is so in the soul; the more ignorance, the
more abundance of lusts.
That light which frees the soul, and res-
cues it from the very kingdom of darkness,
must be somewhat beyond that which nature
can attain to. All the light of philosophy,
natural and moral, is not sufficient, yea, the
Very knowledge of the law, severed from
Christ, serves not so to enlighten and renew
the soul, as to free it from the darkness or
ignorance here spoken of; for our apostle
writes to Jews who knew the law, and were
instructed in it before their conversion ; yet
he calls those times, wherein Christ was un-
known to them, the times of their ignorance.
Though the stars shine never so bright, and
the moon with them in its full, yet they do
not altogether make it day ; still it is might
till the sun appear. Therefore the Hebrew
doctors, upon that word of Solomon’s, Vanity
of vanities, all is vanity, say, Vana etiam lea,
donec venerit Messias: Wain even the law
until Messiah come. Therefore of him Zach-
ariah says, The day-spring from on high hath
visited us, to give light to them that sit in
darkness and in the shadow of death, and to
guide our feet into the way of peace, Luke i.
78, 79.
A natural man may attain to very much
acquired knowledge of the doctrine of Christ,
and may discourse excellently of it, and yet
still his soul be in the chains of darkness,
fast locked up under the ignorance here men-
tioned, and so he may be still of a carnal
mind, in subjection to these lusts of ignorance.
The saving light of faith is a beam of the
Sun of Righteousness himself, that he sends
into the soul, by which he makes it discern
his incomparable beauties, and by that sight
alienates it from all those lusts and desires,
which do then appear to be what indeed they
are, vileness and filthiness itself, making the
soul wonder at itself, how it could love such
base trash so long, and fully resolve now on
the choice of Jesus Christ, the chief among
ten thousands, Cant. V. 10, yea, the fairest
of the children of men, Psal. xlv. 2, for that
he is withal the only-begotten Son of God,
the brightness of his Father's glory, and the
ea press image of his person, Heb. i. 3.
The soul once acquainted with him, can,
with disdain, turn off all the base solicita-
tions and importunities of sin, and command
them away that formerly had command over
it, though they plead former familiarities and
the interest they once had in the heart of the
Christian before it was enlightened and re-
newed. He can well tell them, after his
sight of Christ, that it is true, while he knew
no better pleasures than they were, he thought
them lovely and pleasing; but that one glance
of the face of Jesus Christ hath turned them
all into extreme blackness and deformity;
that so soon as ever Christ appeared to him,
they straightway lost all their credit and es-
teem in his heart, and have lost it for ever;
they need never look to recover it any more.
And it is by this that the apostle enforceth
this dehortation. It is true, that the lusts
and vanities that are in request in the world
were so with you, but it was when you were
blind, they were the lusts of your ignorance:
but now you know how ill they will suit
with the light of that gospel which you pro-
fess, and that inward light of faith which is
in the souls of such as be really believers.
14
106
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
Therefore, seeing you have renounced
them, keep them still at that distance; not
only never admit them more to lodge within
you: that surely you can not do; but do not
So much as for custom sake, and in compli-
ance with the world about you, outwardly
conform yourselves to any of them, or make
semblance to partake of them: as St. Paul
says, Have no more fellowship with the unfruit-
# works of darkness, but rather reprove them,
ph. v. 11; reprove them by your carriage,
and let the light of your h; lives discover
their foulness.
II. We have the positive part of the apos-
tle's exhortation, Be ye holy. This includes
the former, the renouncing of the lusts and
pollutions of the world, both in heart and
life; and adds to it, further, the filling of their
room, being cast out, with the beautifying
graces of the Spirit of God, and the acting of
those graces in their whole conversation,
both in private and abroad, in conversing
with themselves, and conversing with others,
whether good or bad, in a constant even
course, still like themselves, and like him
who hath called them : for it is a most un-
Seemly and unpleasant thing to see a man's
life full of ups and downs, one step like a
Christian and another like a worldling; it
can not choose but both pain himself and mar
the edification of others.
But as He which hath called you is holy.]
Consider whose you are, and you can not
deny that it becomes you to be holy. Con-
sider your near relation to the holy God; this
is expressed two ways, namely, As children,
and As he which hath called you ; which is
all one as if he had said, hath begotten you
again. The very outward vocation of those
who profess Christ, presseth holiness upon
them, but the inward vocation far more.
You were running to destruction in the way
of sin, and there was a voice which, together
with the gospel preached to your ear, spake
into your heart, and called you back from
that path of death to the way of holiness,
which is the only way of life. He hath sev-
ered you from the mass of the profane world,
and picked you out to be jewels for himself.
He hath set you apart for this end, that you
may be holy to him (as the Hebrew word
which signifies holiness, imports setting apart,
or fitting for a peculiar use); be not then un-
true to his design. He hath not called you
wnto uncleanness, but unto holiness, 1 Thess.
iv. 7: therefore be ye holy. It is sacrilege
for you to dispose ºf”yourselves after the im-
pure manner of the world, and to apply your-
selves to any profane use, whom God hath
consecrated to himself.
As children.]. This is, no doubt, relative
to that which he spoke, verse 3, by way of
thanksgiving: and that wherefore in the 13th
verse, draws it down hither by way of exhor-
tation. Seeing you are, by a spiritual and
new birth, the children of so great and good
a father, who commands you to holiness, be
obedient children, in being holy; and seeing
he himself is most holy, be like him as his
children, Be ye holy, as he is holy.
As obedient children.] Opposed to that
expression, Eph. ii. 2, sons of disobedience, or
unbelief, as the word may be rendered, and
that is always the spring of disobedience;
sons of mispersuasibleness, who will not be
drawn and persuaded by the tenderest mer-
cies of God. Now, though this Hebrew
manner of speech, sons of obedience or diso-
bedience, signifies no more than obedient or
disobedient persons, yet it doth signify them
most emphatically, and means a high degree
of obedience or disobedience; these sons of
disobedience, verse 2, are likewise sons of
wrath, verse 3.
Of all children the children of God are the
most obliged to obedience, for he is both the
wisest and the most loving of fathers. And
the sum of all his commands is that which is
their glory and happiness, that they endeavor
to be like him, to resemble their heavenly
Father. Be ye perfect, as your heavenly Fa-
ther is perfect, says our Savior, Matt. v. 48.
And here the apostle is citing out of the law;
Be ye holy, for I am holy, Levit. xi. 44. Law
and gospel agree in this. Again : children
who resemble their fathers, as they grow up
in years, they grow the more like to them ;
thus the children of God do increase in their
resemblance, and are daily more and more
renewed after his image. There is in them
an innate likeness, by reason of his image
impressed on them in their first renovation,
and his spirit dwelling within them; and
there is a continual increase of it, arising from
their pious imitation and study of conformity
which is here exhorted to.
The imitation of vicious men and the cor-
rupt world is here forbidden. The imitation
of men's indifferent customs is base and ser-
vile; the imitation of the virtues of good men
is commendable; but the imitation of this
highest pattern, this primitive goodness, the
most holy God, is the top of excellency. It
is well said, Summa religionis est imitari
quem colis: The essence of religion consists
in the imitation of him we worship. All of
us offer him some kind of worship, but few
seriously study and endeavor this blessed con-
formity.
There is unquestionably, among those who
profess themselves the people of God, a select
number who are indeed his children, and
bear his image both in their hearts and in
their lives; this impression of holiness is on
their souls and their conversation ; but with
the most, a name and a form of godliness are
all they have for religion. , Alas! we speak
of holiness, and we hear of it, and it may be
we commend it, but we act it not ; or, if we
do, it is but an acting of it, in the sense in
which the word is often taken for a persona-
ted acting, as on a stage in the sight of men;
not as in the sight of our lovely God, lodg-
ing it in our hearts, and thence diffusing it
*
VER. 17.]
107
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
into all our actions. A child is truly like his
father, when not only his visage resembles
him, but still more so his mind and inward
disposition; thus are the true children of God
like their heavenly Father in their words and
in their actions, but most of all in heart.
It is no matter though the profane world
(which so hates God that it can not endure
his image) do mock and revile; it is thy
honor to be, as David said, 2 Sam. vi. 22,
thus more vile, in growing still more like unto
him in holiness. What though the polite
man count thy fashion a little odd and too
precise; it is because he knows nothing
above that model of goodness which he hath
set himself, and therefore approves of nothing
beyond it: he knows not God, and therefore
doth not discern and esteem what is most
like him. When courtiers come down into
the country, the common homebred people
possibly think their habit strange, but they
care not for that, it is the fashion at court.
What need then that the godly should be so
tender-foreheaded, as to be put out of counte-
nance because the world looks on holiness as a
singularity ? it is the only fashion in the high-
est court, yea, of the King of kings himself.
For I am holy.] . As it will raise our en-
deavor high to look on the highest pattern,
so it will lay our thoughts low concerning
ourselves. Men compare themselves with
men, and readily with the worst, and flatter
themselves with that comparative betterness.
This is not the way to see our spots, to look
into the muddy streams of profane men's
lives; but look into the clear fountain of the
word, and there we may both discern and
wash them. Consider the infinite holiness
of God, and this will humble us to the dust.
When Isaiah saw the glory of the Lord, and
heard the Seraphim cry, Holy, holy, holy, he
cried out of his own and the people's unholi-
ness, Wo is me, for I am undone, for I am
a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst
% a people of unclean lips ; for mine eyes
º º the King, the Lord of Hosts. Chap.
W1. 3, 4,
VER. 17. And if ye call on the father, who without
respect of persons judgeth according to every man's
work, pass the time of your sojourning here in fear.
THE temptations which meet a Christian
in the world, to turn him aside from the
straight way of obedience and holiness, are
either such as present the hope of some ap-
parent good, to draw him from that way, or
the fear of some evil, to drive and affright
him from it ; and therefore the word of God
is much in strengthening the Christian mind
against these two ; and it doth it especially,
by possessing it both with hopes and fears of
a higher nature, that do by far weigh down
the other.
The most frequent assaults of temptation
are upon these two passions of the mind:
therefore they are chiefly to be fortified and
defended by a hope and fear opposite to those
that do assault us, and sufficiently strong to
resist and repel them.
These two, therefore, our apostle here
urges: 1. The hope of that glory which the
gospel propounds, and so outbids all the prof-
fers of the world, both in the greatness and
the certainty of its promises. 2. The fear
of God, the greatest and justest judge, alone
worthy to be feared and reverenced; the
highest anger and enmity of all the world
being less than nothing, in comparison of his
smallest displeasure. We have here,
I. This fear. II. The reason enforcing it.
III. The term or continuance of it.
I. The fear itself, In fear. But how suits
this with the high discourse that went be-
fore, of perfect assured hope, of faith, and
love, and joy, yea, joy unspeakable and glo-
rious, arising out of these ? How are all
those excellences fallen, as it were, into a
dungeon, when fear is mentioned after them
Doth not the Apostle St. John say, that True
love casteth out fear 2 1 John iv. 18. And
is it not more clearly opposite to perfect or
assured hope, and to faith and joy 3
If ye understand it aright, this is such a
fear as doth not prejudice, but preserve those
other graces, and the comfort and joy that
arise from them ; and they all agree so well
with it, that they are naturally helps to each
other.
It were superfluous to insist on the defi-
ning of this passion of fear, and the manifold
distinctions of it, either with philosophers or
divines. The fear here recommended is, out
of question, a holy self-suspicion and fear of
offending God, which may not only consist
with assured hope of salvation, and with
faith, and love, and spiritual joy, but is their
inseparable companion ; as all divine graces
are linked together (as the heathens said of
their three graces), and, as they dwell to-
gether, they grow or decrease together. The
more a Christian believes, and loves, and re-
joices in the love of God, the more unwilling
surely he is to displease him, and if in dan-
ger of displeasing him, the more afraid of it;
and, on the other side, this fear being the
true principle of a wary and holy conversa-
tion, fleeing sin, and the occasions of sin, and
temptations to it, and resisting them when
they make an assault, is as a watch or guard
that keeps out the enemies and disturbers of
the soul, and so preserves its inward peace,
keeps the assurance of faith and hope unmo-
lested, and that joy which they cause, and
the intercourse and societies of love between
the soul and her beloved, uninterrupted ; all
which are most in danger when this fear
abates and falls to slumbering ; for then some
notable sin or other is ready to break in and
put all into disorder, and for a time make
those graces, and the comfort of them to pres-
ent feeling, as much to seek as if they were
not there at all.
No wonder, then, that the apostles, having
stirred up his Christian brethren, whatsoever
108
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
be their estate in the world, to seek to be
rich in those jewels of faith, and hope, and
love, and spiritual joy, and then, considering
that they travel among a world of thieves and
robbers—no wonder, I say, that he adds this,
advises them to give those their jewels in
custody, under God, to this trusty and watch-
ful grace of godly fear; and having earnestly
exhorted them to holiness, he is very fitly
particular in this fear, which makes up so
great a part of that holiness, that it is often
in Scripture named for it all.
Solomon calls it the beginning, or the top
of wisdom, Prov. xv. 33; the word signifies
both, and it is both. The beginning of it is
the beginning of wisdom, and the progress
and increase of it is the increase of wisdom.
That hardy rashness which many account
Valor is the companion of ignorance; and of
all rashness, boldness to sin is the most wit-
less and foolish. There is in this, as in all
fear, an apprehension of an evil whereof we
are in danger. The evil is sin, and the dis-
pleasure of God and punishment following
upon sin. . The godly man judgeth wisely, as
the truth is, that sin is the greatest of evils,
and the cause of all other evils; it is a trans-
gression of the just law of God, and so a
provocation of his just anger, and the cause
of those punishments, temporal, spiritual,
and eternal, which he inflicts. And then,
considering how mighty he is to punish, con-
sidering both the power and the reach of his
hand, that it is both most heavy and unavoid-
able ; all these things may and should concur
to the working of this fear.
There is, no doubt, a great difference be-
tween those two kinds of fear that are usu-
ally differenced by the names of servile and
filial fear; but certainly the most genuine
fear of the sons of God, who call him Father,
doth not exclude the consideration of his jus.
tice and of the punishment of sin which his
justice inflicts. We see here, it is used as
the great motive of this fear, that he judgeth
every man according to his works. And Da-
Vid in that psalm wherein he so much
breathes forth those other sweet affections of
love, and hope, and delight in God and in his
Word, yet expresseth this fear even of the
justice of God: My flesh trembleth for fear
ºf thee, and I am afraid of thy judgments.
Ps. cxix. 120. The flesh is to be awed by di-
vine judgments, though the higher and surer
part of the soul is strongly and freely tied
with the cords of love. Temporal correc-
tions, indeed, they fear not so much in them-
selves, as that impression of wrath that may
be upon them for their sins. Ps. vi. 1. That
is the main matter of their fear, because their
happiness is in his love, and the light of his
countenance, that is their life. They regard
not how the world looks upon them; they
care not who frown, so he smile on them :
because no other enemy nor evil in the world
can deprive them of this but their own sin,
therefore that is what they fear most.
As the evil is great, so the Christian hath
great reason to fear in regard of his danger
of it, considering the multitude, strength, and
craft of his enemies, and his own weakness
and unskilfulness to resist them. And his
sad experience in being often foiled, teacheth
him that it is thus ; he can not be ignorant
of it: he finds how often his own resolutions
and purposes deceive him. Certainly a godly
man is sometimes driven to wonder at his
own frailty and inconstancy. What strange
differences will be between him and himself:
how high and how delightful at some times
are his thoughts of God and the glory of the
life to come ; and yet, how easily at another
time base temptations will bemire him, or,
at the least, molest and vex him ' And this
keeps him in a continual fear, and that fear
in continual vigilancy and circumspectness.
When he looks up to God, and considers the
truth of his promises, and the sufficiency of
his grace and protection, and the almighty
strength of his Redeemer, these things fill his
soul with confidence and assurance; but when
he turns his eye downward again upon him-
self, and finds so much remaining corruption
within, and so many temptations, and dan-
gers, and adversaries without, this forces him
not only to fear, but to despair of himself;
and it should do so, that his trust in God may
be the purer and , more entire. That confi-
dence in God will not make him secure and
presumptuous in himself, nor that fear of
himself make him diffident of God. This
fear is not opposite to faith, but high minded-
ness and presumption are. See Rom. xi. 20.
To a natural man, it would seem an odd kind
of reasoning that of the apostle, Phil. ii. 12,
13: It is God that worketh in you to will and
to do of his good pleasure : therefore (would
he think), you may save labor, you may sit
still, and not work, or, if you work, you may
work fearlessly, being so sure of his help :
but the apostle is of another mind; his infer-
ence is, Therefore, work out your own salva-
tion, and work it with fear and trembling.
But he that hath assurance of salvation,
why should he fear ! If there is truth in his
assurance, nothing can disappoint him, not
sin itself. It is true; but it is no less true,
that if he do not fear to sin, there is no truth
in his assurance: it is not the assurance of
faith, but the mispersuasion of a secure and
profane mind. Suppose it so, that the sins
of a godly man can not be such as to cut him
short of that salvation whereof he is assured ;
yet they may be such as for a time will de-
prive him of that assurance, and not only re-
move the comfort he hath in that, but let in
horrors and anguish of conscience in its stead.
Though a believer is freed from hell (and we
may overstrain this assurance, in our doctrine,
beyond what the soberest and devoutest men
in the world can ever find in themselves,
though they will not trouble themselves to
contest and dispute with them that say they
have it), so that his soul can not come there:
WER. 17.]
109
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
yet some sins may bring as it were a hell into
his soul for a time, and this is reason enough
for any Christian in his right wits to be afraid
of sin. No man would willingly hazard him-
self upon a fall that may break his leg, or
some other bone; though he could be made
sure that he should not break his neck, or
that his life were not at all in danger, and
that he should be perfectly cured, yet the
pain and trouble of such a hurt would terrify
him, and make him wary and fearful when
he walks in danger. The broken bones that
David complains of after his fall, may work
fear and wariness in those that hear him,
though they were ascertained of a like re-
covery.
This fear is not cowardice: it doth not de-
base, but elevates the mind ; for it drowns
all lower fears, and begets true fortitude
and courage to encounter all dangers, for the
sake of a good conscience and the obeying of
God. The righteous is bold as a lion. Prov.
xxviii. 1. He dares do anything but offend
God; and to dare to do that is the greatest
folly, and weakness, and baseness, in the
world. From this fear have sprung all
the generous resolutions and patient suffer-
ings of the Saints and martyrs of God; be-
cause they durst not sin against him, there-
fore they durst be imprisoned, and impover-
ished, and tortured, and die for him. Thus
the prophet sets carnal and godly fear as op-
posite, and the One expelling the other, Isai.
viii. 12, 13. And our Savior, Luke xii. 4,
Fear not them that kill the body; but fear
Him which, after he hath killed, hath power to
cast into hell ; yea, I say unto you fear him.
Fear not, but fear ; and #: fear, that
you may not fear. This fear is like the trem-
bling that hath been observed in some of great
courage before battles. Moses was bold and
fearless in dealing with a proud and wicked
king, but when God appeared, he said (as the
apostle informs us), I exceedingly fear and
quake. Heb. xii. 21.
II. The reason we have here to persuade
to this fear is twofold. (1.) Their relation
to God. (2.) Their relation to the world.
º To God as their Father, and as their
Judge. Because you do call him Father, and
profess yourselves his children, begotten again
by him (for this verse looks back to that ex-
pression), it becomes you, as obedient chil-
drea, to stand in awe, and fear to offend him
your Father, and a Father so full of goodness
and tender love. But as he is the best Fa-
ther, so consider that he is withal the great-
est and justest Judge: He judges every man
according to his work.
God always sees and discerns men, and all
their works, and judgeth, that is, accounteth
of them, as they are, and sometimes in this
life declares this his judgment of them to
their own consciences, and in some to the
view of others, in visible punishments and re-
Wards; but the most solemn judgment of all
is reserved to that great day which he hath
appointed, wherein he will judge the world in
Tighteousness by his Son Jesus. Acts xvii. 32.
There is here the sovereignty of this Judge,
the universality of his Judgment, and the equi-
ty of it. All must answer at his great court;
he is supreme judge of the world. He made
it, and hath therefore unquestionable right to
judge it. He judgeth every man ; and it is a
most righteous judgment, which hath these
two in it : 1. An exact and perfect knowl-
edge of all men's works; 2. Impartial judg-
ment of them so known. This second is ex-
pressed negatively, by removing the crooked
rule which man’s judgment often follows; it
is without consideration of those personal dif-
ferences which men eye so much. And the
first is according to the work itself. Job xxxiv.
19: He accepteth not the person of princes,
nor regardeth the rich more than the poor ;
and the reason is added there, For they are
all the work of his hands. He made all the
persons, and he makes all those differences
himself as it pleaseth him ; therefore he doth
not admire them as we do, no, nor at all re-
gard them. We find very great odds between
stately palaces and poor cottages, between a
prince's robes and a beggar's cloak ; but to
God they are all one ; all these petty differ-
ences vanish in comparison of his own great-
ness. Men are great and small, compared
with one another ; but they altogether amount
to just nothing in respect of him. We find
high mountains and low valleys on this earth;
but compared with the vast compass of the
heavens, it is all but as a point, and hath no
sensible greatness at all.
Nor regards he any other differences to bias
his judgment, from the works of men, to their
persons. You profess the true religion,
and call him Father ; but if you live devoid
of his fear, and be disobedient children, he
will not spare you because of that relation,
but rather punish you the more severely. Be-
cause you pretended to be his children, and
yet obeyed him not, therefore you shall find
him your judge, and an impartial judge of
your works. Remember, therefore, that your
Father is this judge, and fear to offend him.
But then, indeed, a believer may look back to
the other comfort, who abuses it not to a sin-
ful security. He resolves thus willingly: “I
will not sin, because my Father is this just
Judge; but for my frailties I will hope for
mercy, because the Judge is my Father.”
Theºr jº. This comprehends all ac-
tions and words, yea, thoughts; and each
work entirely, taken outside and inside to-
gether ; for he sees all alike, and judgeth ac-
cording to all together. He looks on the
wheels and paces within, as well as on the
handle without, and therefore ought we to
fear the least crookedness of our intentions in
the best works; for if we entertain any such,
and study not singleness of heart, this will
cast all, though we pray and hear the word,
and preach it, and live outwardly unblamea-
bly. And in that great judgment, all secret
110
LCHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
things shall be manifest; as they are always
Open to the eye of this Judge, so he shall then
9pen them before men and angels: therefore
let the remembrance and frequent considera-
tion of this all-seeing Judge, and of that great
judgment, waken our hearts, and beget in us
this fear. 2 Cor. v. 10, 11. If you would
have confidence in that day, and not fear it
when it comes, fear it now, so as to avoid sin;
for they that now tremble at it, shall then,
when it comes, lift up their faces with joy;
and they that will not fear it now, shall then
be overwhelmed with fears and terror; they
shall have such a burden of fear then as that
they shall account the hills and mountains
lighter than it.
Pass the time of your sojourning here in
fear.] In this I conceive is implied another
persuasive of this fear arising (2), from their
relation to this world. You are sojourners
and strangers (as here the word signifies),
and a wary, circumspect carriage becomes
strangers, because they are most exposed to
Wrongs and hard accidents. You are encom-
passed with enemies and snares; how can
you be secure in the midst of them 2 This
is not your rest ; watchful fear becomes this
your sojourning. Perfect peace and security
are reserved for you at home, and that is the
last term of this fear; it continues all the
time of this sojourning life, dies not before
us ; we and it shall expire together.
III. This, then, is the term or continuance
of this fear.
Blessed is he that feareth always, says Sol-
Omon, Prov. xxviii. 14; in secret and in so-
ciety, in his own house and in God's. We
must hear the word with fear, and preach it
with fear, afraid to miscarry in our intentions
and manners. Serve the Lord with fear, yea,
in times of inward comfort and joy, yet re-
joice with trembling. Psal. ii. 11. Not only
When a man feels most his own weakness,
but when he finds himself strongest. None
are so high advanced in grace here below, as
to be out of need of this grace; but when
their sojourning shall be done, and they are
come home to their father's house above,
then no more fearing. No entrance for dan-
gers there, and therefore no fear. A hol
reverence of the majesty of God they shall
indeed have then most of all, as the angels
still have, because they shall see him most
clearly, and because the more he is known
the more he is reverenced ; but this fear that
relates to danger shall then vanish, for in
that world there is neither sin, nor sorrow
for sin, nor temptation to sin; no more con-
flicts, but after a full and final victory, an
eternal peace, an everlasting triumph. Not
only fear, but faith, and hope, do imply some
imperfection not consistent with that blessed
estate ; and therefore all of them having ob-
tained their end, shall end; faith in sight,
hope in possession, and fear in perfect ...ſº 5
and everlasting love and delight shall fill
the whole soul in the vision of God.
VER. 18. Forasmuch as ye know that ye were not re-
deemed with corruptible things as silver and gold,
from your vain conversation received by tradition
from your fathers;
VER. 19. But with the precious blood of Christ, as
of a lamb without blemish and without spot.
IT is impossible for a Christian to give
himself to conform to the world's ungodli-
ness, unless first he forgets who he is, and by
what means he attained to be what he is.
Therefore the apostle, persuading his breth-
ren to holiness, puts them in mind of this,
as the strongest incentive. Not only have
you the example of God set before you, as
your father, to beget in you the love of holi-
ness, as being your liveliest resemblance of
him ; and the justice of God as your judge,
to argue you into a pious fear of offending
him; but consider this, that he is your Re-
deemer; he hath bought out, your liberty
from sin and the world, to be altogether his;
and think on the price laid down in this ran-
som ; and these out of question will prevail
with you.
We have here, 1. The evil dissuaded from,
viz., A vain conversation. 2. The dissuasion
itself.
1. It is called their vain conversation. 2.
Received by tradition iſ.” their fathers. By
this I conceive is to be understood not only
the superstitions and vain devices in religion,
which abounded among the Jews by tradi-
tion, for which our Savior often reproved
them while he was conversant among them,
as we find in the gospel (and all this was
meant, ver, 14, by the lusts of their former
ignorance); but generally, all the corrupt
and sinful customs of their lives; for it seems
not so pertinent to his purpose when exhort-
ing to holiness of life, to speak of their su-
perstitious traditions, as of their other sinful
habitudes, which are no less hereditary, and,
by the power of example, traditional ; which
by reason of their common root in man's sin-
ful nature, do so easily pass from parents to
children, nature making their example pow-
erful, and the corruption of nature giving it
most power in that which is evil. And this
is the rather mentioned to take away the
force of it, and cut off that influence which
it might have had in their minds. There is
a kind of conversation that the authority of
your father pleads for ; but remember, that
it is that very thing from which you are de-
livered, and you are called to a new state
and form of life, and have a new pattern set
before you, instead of that.corrupt example.
It is one great error, not only in religion
and manners, but even in human science,
that men are ready to take things upon trust,
unexamined, from those that went before
them, partly out of easiness and sparing the
pains of trial, partly out of a superstitious
over-esteem of their authority ; but the chief
reason why corruptions in religion, and in the
practice of preceding ages, take so much with
posterity, is that before mentioned, the uni-
WER. 18, 19.]
111
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
versal sympathy and agreement which those
evils have with the corrupt nature of man.
The prophet Ezekiel observes this par-
ticularly in the Jews, chap. xx. 24, That
their eyes were after their fathers' idols, con-
trary to God's express forewarning, ver. 18.
This was the great quarrel of the heathens
against the Christian religion in the primi-
tive times, that it was new and unknown to
their fathers; and the ancient writers of those
times are frequent in showing the vanity of
this exception, particularly Lactantius, In-
stit. lib. 2, cap. 7, 8. The same prejudice
doth the church of Rome sing over continu-
ally against the reformed religion: Where
was it before Luther ? &c. But this is a
foolish and unreasonable diversion from the
search of truth, because error is more at
hand ; or from the entertaining it, being
found, because falsehood is in possession.
As in religion, so in the course and prac-
tice of men's lives, the stream of sin runs
from one age into another, and every age
makes it greater, adding somewhat to what
it receives, as rivers grow in their course by
the accession of brooks that fall into them ;
and every man when he is born falls like a
drop into this main current of corruption,
and so is carried down with it, and this by
reason of its strength, and his own nature,
which willingly dissolves into it, and runs
along with it. In this is manifest the power
of divine grace in a man's conversion, that
it severs him so powerfully from the profane
world, and gives him strength to run contra-
ry to the great current of wickedness that is
round about him, in his parents possibly, and
in his kindred and friends, and in the most
of men that he meets withal. The voice of
God, that powerful word of effectual calling
which he speaks into the heart, makes a
man break through all, and leave all to fol-
low God, as Abraham did, being called out
from his kindred and father's house, to jour-
ney toward the land that God had promised
him. And this is that which was spoken to
the church and to each believing soul by the
Spirit of God, Forget also thine own people
and thy father's house, so shall the king great-
ly delight in thy beauty. Psal. xlv. 10, 11.
Regard not what others think, though they
be thy, nearest friends, but study only to
please him, and then thou shalt please him
indeed. Do not deform thy face with look-
ing out asquint to the custom of the world,
but look straightforward on him, and so thou
shalt be beautiful in his eyes. When God
calls a man in a remarkable manner, his pro-
fane friends are all in a tumult; what needs
this to be more precise than we and all your
neighbors ? But all this is a confused noise,
that works nothing on the heart that the
Lord hath touched; it must follow him,
though by trampling upon friends and kin-
dred, if they lie in the way. We see how
powerfully a word from Christ drew his dis-
ciples to leave all and follow him.
The erhortation is against all sinful and
unholy conversation, by what authority and
example soever recommended to us. The
apostle's reasons in these words are strong
and pressing; there is one expressed in the
very name he gives it; it is vain conversation.
The mind of man, the guide and source of
his actions, while it is estranged from God,
is nothing but a forge of Vanities. The Apos-
tle St. Paul speaks this of the Gentiles, that
they became vain in their imaginations, and
their foolish heart was darkened, Rom. i. 21.
their great naturalists and philosophers not
excepted; and the more they strove to play
the wise men, the more they befooled them-
selves. Thus likewise, Eph. iv. 17. And
thus the Lord complains by his prophet
Isaiah, of the extreme folly of his people,
ch. xliv. 20, and by Jeremy, that their hearts
are lodges of vain thoughts, ch. iv. 14: and
these are the true cause of a vain conversa-
tion.
The whole course of a man’s life out of
Christ, is nothing but a continual trading in
vanity, running a circle of toil and labor, and
reaping no profit at all. This is the vanity
of every natural man’s conversation, that not
only others are not benefited by it, but it is
fruitless to himself; there arises to him no
solid good out of it. That is most truly vain
which attains not its proper end; now, since
all a man’s endeavors aim at his satisfaction
and contentment, that conversation which
gives him nothing of that, but removes him
further from it, is justly called vain conversa-
tion. What fruit had ye, says the apostle,
in those things whereof ye are now ashamed 3
Rom. vi. 21. Either count that shame which
at the best grows out of them, their fruit, or
confess they have none ; therefore they are
called the unfruitful works of darkness, Eph.
W. 11.
Let the voluptuous person say it out upon
his death-bed, what pleasure or profit doth
then abide with him of all his former sinful
delights. Let him tell if there remain any-
thing of them all, but that which he would
gladly not have to remain, the sting of an
accusing conscience, which is as lasting as
the delight of sin was short and vanishing.
Let the covetous and ambitious declare freely,
even those of them who have prospered most
in their pursuit of riches and honor, what
ease all their possessions or titles do then
help them to ; whether their pains are the
less because their chests are full, or their
houses stately, or a multitude of friends and
servants waiting on them with hat and knee.
And if all these things can not ease their
body, how much less can they quiet the
mind ' And therefore is it not true, that all
pains in these things, and the uneven ways
into which they sometimes stepped aside to
serve those ends, and generally, that all the
ways of sin wherein they have wearied them-
selves, were vain rollings and tossings up
and down, not tending to a certain haven of
112
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
peace and happiness? It is a lamentable
thing to be deluded a whole life-time with a
false dream. See Isaiah ii. 8.
You that are going on in the common road
of sin, although many, and possibly your own
parents, have trodden it before you, and the
greatest part of those you now know are in it
with you, and keep you company in it, yet,
be persuaded to stop a little, and ask your-
selves what is it you seek, or expect in the
end of it. Would it not grieve any laboring
man, to work hard all the day, and have no
wages to look for at night? It is a greater
loss to wear out our whole life, and in the
evening of our days find nothing but anguish
and vexation. Let us then think this, that so
much of our life as is spent in the ways of sin
is all lost, fruitless, and vain conversalion.
And in so far as the apostle says here, You
are redeemed from this conversation, this im-
ports it to be a servile, slavish condition, as
the other word, vain, expresses it to be fruit-
less. And this is the madness of a sinner,
that he fancies liberty in that which is the
basest thraldom ; as those poor frantic per-
Sons that are lying ragged and bound in
chains, yet imagine that they are kings, that
their irons are chains of gold, their rags
robes, and their filthy lodge a palace. As it
is misery to be liable to the sentence of death,
so it is slavery to be subject to the dominion
of sin; and he that is delivered from the one,
is likewise set free from the other. There is
one redemption from both. He that is re-
deemed from destruction by the blood of
Christ, is likewise redeemed from that vain
and unholy conversation that leads to it. So,
Tit. ii. 14. Our Redeemer was anointed for
this purpose, not to free the captives from the
sentence of death, and yet leave them still in
prison, but to proclaim liberty to them, and
the opening of the prison to them that are
bound. Isa. lxi. 1.
You easily persuade yourselves that Christ
both died for you, and redeemed you from hell;
but you consider not, that if it be so, he hath
likewise redeemed you from your vain con-
versation, and hath set you free from the ser-
vice of sin. Certainly, while you find not
that, you can have no assurance of the other:
if the chains of sin continue still upon you,
for anything you can know, these chains do
bind you over to the other chains of darkness
the apostle speaks of, 2 Pet. ii. 4. Let us
not delude ourselves; if we find the love of
sin and of the world work stronger in our
hearts than the love of Christ, we are not as
yet partakers of his redemption.
But if we have indeed laid hold upon him
as our Redeemer, then are we redeemed from
the service of sin ; not only from the grossest
profaneness, but even from all kind of fruit-
less and vain conversation. And therefore
ought we to stand fast in that liberty, and not
to entangle ourselves again to any of our for-
mer vanities. Gal v. 1.
Not redeemed with corruptible things.]
From the high price of our redemption, the
apostle doth mainly enforce our esteem of it,
and urge the preservation of that liberty so
dearly bought, and the avoiding all that un-
holiness and vain conversation from which
we are freed by that redemption. First, he
expresseth it negatively, not with corruptible
things ; (Oh! foolish we, who hunt them, as
if they were incorruptible and everlasting
treasures') mo, not the best of them, those
that are in highest account with men, not
with silver and gold : these are not of any
value at all toward the ransom of souls;
they can not buy off the death of the body,
nor purchase the continuance of temporal life,
much less can they reach to the worth of
spiritual and eternal life. The precious soul
could not be redeemed but by blood, and by
no blood but that of this spotless lamb, Jesus
Christ, who is God equal with the Father ;
and therefore his blood is called The blood of
God, Acts xx. So that the Apostle may well
call it here precious, exceeding the whole
world, and all things in it, in value. There-
fore frustrate not the sufferings of Christ: if
he shed his blood to redeem you from sin, be
not false to his purpose.
As a lamb without blemish.] He is that
great and everlasting sacrifice which gave
value and virtue to all the sacrifices under
the law : their blood was of no worth to the
purging away of sin, but by relation to his
blood; and the laws concerning the choice
of the paschal lamb, or other lambs for sacri-
fice, were but obscure and imperfect shadows
of his purity and perfections, who is the un-
defiled Lamb of God that taketh away the sins
of the world. John i. 29. A lamb in meek-
mess and silence, he opened not his mouth.
Isa. liii. 7. And in purity here without spot
or blemish. My well-beloved, says the spouse,
is white and ruddy, Cant. v. 10; white in
spotless innocency, and red in suffering a
bloody death.
Forasmuch as ye know..] It is that must
make all this effectual, the right knowledge
and due consideration of it. Ye do know it
already, but I would have you know it better,
more deeply and practically : turn it often
over, be more in the study and meditation of
it. There is work enough in it still for the
most discerning mind; it is a mystery so deep
that you shall never reach the bottom of it,
and withal so useful that you shall find al-
ways new profit by it. Our folly is, we gape
after new things, and yet are in effect igno-
rant of the things we think we know best.
That learned apostle who knew so much,
and spoke so many tongues, yet says, I deter-
mined to know nothing among you, save Jesus
Christ, and him crucified. 1 Cor. ii. 2. And
again he expresses this as the top of his am-
bition, That I may know him, and the power
of his resurrection, and theſº". of his
sufferings, being made conformable unto his
death. Phil. iii. 10. That conformity is this
only knowledge. He that hath his lusts un-
VER. 20.]
113
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
mortified, and a heart unweaned from the
world, though he know all the history of the
death and sufferings of Jesus Christ, and can
discourse well of them, yet indeed he knows
them not.
If you would increase much in holiness,
and be strong against the temptations to sin,
this is the only art of it; view much, and so
seek to know much of the death of Jesus
Christ. Consider often at how high a rate
we were redeemed from sin, and provide this
answer for all the enticements of sin and the
world: “Except you can offer my soul some-
thing beyond that price that was given for it
on the cross, I can not hearken to you.”
“Far be it from me,” will a Christian say,
who considers this redemption, “that ever I
should prefer a base lust, or anything in this
world, or it all, to Him who gave himself to
death for me, and paid my ransom with his
blood. His matchless love hath freed me
from the miserable captivity of sin, and hath
for ever fastened me to the sweet yoke of his
obedience. Let him alone to dwell and rule
within me, and never let him go forth from
my heart, who for my sake refused to come
down from the cross.”
VER. 20. Who verily was foreordained before the
foundation of the world; but was manifest in these
last times for you.
OF all those considerations (and there are
many) that may move men to obedience, there
is no one that persuades both more sweetly
and strongly, than the sense of God's goodness
and mercy toward men; and among all the
evidences of that, there is none like the send-
ing and giving of his Son for man's redemp-
tion; therefore the apostle, having mentioned
that, insists further on it; and in these words
expresses, 1. The purpose; 2. The perform-
ance; and 3. The application of it.
1. The purpose or decree foreknown ; but
it is well rendered, foreordainca, for this
knowing is decreeing, and there is little either
solid truth or profit in the distinguishing
them.
We say usually, that where there is little
wisdom there is much chance; and compara-
tively among men, some are far more fore-
sighted, and of further reach than others:
yet the wisest and most provident men, both
wanting skill to design all things aright, and
power to act as they contrive, meet with
many unexpected casualties and frequent dis-
appointments in their undertakings. But
with God, where both wisdom and power
are infinite, there can be neither any chance
nor resistance from without, nor any imper-
fection at all in the contrivance of things
within himself, that can give cause to add,
or abate, or alter anything in the frame of
his purposes. The model of the whole world,
and of all the course of time, was with him
one and the same from all eternity, and
whatsoever is brought to pass, is exactly an-
swerable to that pattern, for with him there
is no change nor shadow of turning. Jam. i. 17.
There is nothing dark to the Father of lights:
he sees at one view through all things, and
all ages, from the beginning of time to the
end of it, yea, from eternity to eternity. And
this incomprehensible wisdom is too wonder-
ful for us; we do but childishly stammer
when we offer to speak of it.
It is no wonder that men beat their own
brains, and knock their heads one againstan-
other, in the contest of their opinions, to little
purpose, in their several mouldings of God's
decree. Is not this to cut and square God's
thoughts to ours, and examine his sovereign
purposes by the low principles of human wis-
dom. 2 How much more learned than all such
knowledge, is the apostle's ignorance, when
he cries out, O ! the depth of the riches, both
of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how un-
searchable are his judgments, and his ways
past finding out ! Rom. xi. 33. Why then
should any man debate what place, in the se-
ries of God's decrees, is to be assigned to this
purpose of sending his Son in the flesh ' Let
us rather (seeing it is manifest that it was for
the redemption of lost mankind) admire that
same love of God to mankind, which appears
in that purpose of our recovery by the Word
made flesh ; that before man had made him-
self miserable, yea, before either he or the
world was made, this thought of boundless
love was in the bosom of God; to send his
Son forth thence, to bring fallen man out of
misery, and restore him to happiness; and to
do this, not only by taking on his nature, but
the curse: to shift it off from us that were
sunk under it, and to bear it himself, and by
bearing to take it away. He laid on him the
iniquity of us all. And to this he was ap-
pointed, says the apostle, Heb. iii. 2.
Before the foundation of the world.]. This
we understand by faith, that the world was
framed by the word of God. Heb. xi. 3. . Al-
though the learned probably think it evinci-
ble by human reason, yet some of those who
have gloried most in that, and are reputed
generally masters of reason, have not seen it
by that light. Therefore, that we may have
a divine belief of it, we must learn it from
the word of God, and be persuaded of its
truth by the Spirit of God, that the whole
world, and all things in it, were drawn out
of nothing by his almighty power, who is the
only eternal and increated Being, and there-
fore the fountain and source of being to all
things.
Foundation.] In this word is plainly inti-
mated the resemblance of the world to a
building; and such a building it is, as doth
evidence the greatness of Him who framed it :
so spacious, rich, and comely, so firm a foun-
dation, raised to so high and stately a roof,
and set with variety of stars, as with jewels,
therefore called, as some conceive it, the work
of his fingers, Psal. viii., to express the cu-
rious artifice that appears in them. , Though
naturalists have attempted to give the reason
of the earth's stability from its heaviness.
15
114
[CHAP. T.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
which stays it necessarily in the lowest part
of the world, yet that abates not our admiring
the wisdom and power of God, in laying its
foundation so, and establishing it; for it is his
will that is the first cause of that, its nature,
and hath appointed that to be the property
of its heaviness, to fix it there; and therefore
Job alleges this among the wonderful works
of God, and evidences of his power, that He
hangeth the earth upon nothing. Job xxvi. 7.
Before there was time, or place, or any
creature, God, the blessed Trinity, was in
himself, and as the prophet speaks, inhabiting
eternity, completely happy in himself: but
intending to manifest and communicate his
goodness, he gave being to the world, and to
time with it; made all to set forth his good-
ness, and the most excellent of his creatures
to contemplate and enjoy it. But among all
the works he intended before time, and in
time effected, this is the masterpiece, which
is here said to be foreordained, the manifest-
ing of God in the flesh for man's redemption,
and that by his Son Jesus Christ, as the first-
born among many brethren, in order that
those appointed for salvation should be res-
cued from the common misery, and be made
one mystical body, whereof Christ is the
head, and so entitled to that everlasting glory
and happiness that he hath purchased for
them.
This, I say, is the great work, wherein all
those glorious attributes shine jointly, the
wisdom, and power, and goodness, justice,
and mercy of God. As in great maps, or pic-
tures, you will see the border decorated with
meadows and fountains, and flowers, &c.,
represented in it, but in the middle you have
the main design ; thus is this foreordained re-
demption among the works of God; all his
other works in the world, all the beauty of
the creatures, and the succession of ages, and
things that come to pass in them, are but as
the border to this as the main piece. But as a
foolish, unskilful beholder, not discerning the
excellency of the principal piece in such
maps or pictures, gazes only on the fair bor-
der, and goes no further, thus do the greatest
part of us: our eyes are taken with the goodly
show of the world and appearance of earthly
things; but as for this great work of God,
Christ foreordained, and in time sent for our
redemption, though it most deserves our at-
tentive regard, yet we do not view and con-
sider it as we ought.
2. We have the performance of that pur-
pose, Was manifested in these last times for
you. He was manifested both by his incar-
nation, according to that word of the Apostle
St. Paul, manifested in the flesh, 1 Tim. iii.
16, and manifested by his marvellous works
and doctrine ; by his sufferings and death,
resurrection and ascension, by the sending
down of the Holy Ghost according to his
promise, and by the preaching of the gospel,
in the fulness of time that God had appoint-
ed, wherein all the prophecies that foretold
his coming, and all the types and ceremo-
nies that prefigured him, had their accom-
plishment.
The times of the gospel are often called
the last times by the prophets; for that the
Jewish priesthood and ceremonies being abol:
ished, that which succeeded was appointed
by God to remain the same to the end of the
world. Besides this, the time of our Savior's
incarnation may be called the last times, be:
cause, although it were not near the end of
time by many ages, yet in all probability it
is much nearer the end of time than the be-
ginning of it. Some resemble the time of his
sufferings in the end of the world, to the
Paschal Lamb which was slain in the even-
IIl Q".
#, was doubtless the fit time; but notwith-
standing the schoolmen offer at reasons to
prove the fitness of it, as their humor is to
prove all things, none dare, I think, conclude,
but if God had so appointed, it might have
been either sooner or later. And our safest
way is to rest in this, that it was the fit time,
because so it pleased him, and to seek no
other reason why, having promised the Mes-
siah so quickly after man's fall, he deferred his
coming about four thousand years, and a
great part of that time shut up the knowl-
edge of himself and the true religion, within
the narrow compass of that one nation of
which Christ was to be born ; of these and
such like things, we can give no other rea-
son than that which he teacheth us in a like
case, Even so, Father, because it seemeth good
unto thee. Matt. xi. 26. g
3. The application of this manifestation,
For you..]. The apostle represents these things
to those he writes to, particularly for their
use ; therefore he applies it to them, but
without prejudice of the believers who went
before, or of those who were to follow in
after-ages. He who is here said to be
fore-appointed before the foundation of the
world, is therefore called A Lamb slain from
the foundation of the world. Rev. xiii. 8. And
as the virtue of his death looks backward to
all preceding ages, whose faith and sacrifices
looked forward to it; so the same death is of
force and perpetual value to the end of the
world. After he had offered one sacrifice for
sins, says the author of the Epistle to the
Hebrews, chap. x. 12, 14, he sat down for
ever on the right hand of God ; for by one
offering he hath perfected for ever them that
are sanctified. The cross on which he was
extended, points, in the length of it, to heav-
en and earth, reconciling them together, and
in the breadth of it, to former and following
ages, as being equally salvation to both.
In this appropriating and peculiar interest
in Jesus Christ lies our happiness, without
which it avails not that he was ordained from
eternity, and in time manifested. It is not
the general contemplation, but the peculiar
possession of Christ, that gives both solid
comfort and strong persuasion to obedience
WER. 21, 22.]
115
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
and holiness, which is here the apostle's par-
ticular scope.
VER. 21. Who by him do believe in God that raised
him up from the dead and gave him glory, that
your faith and hope might be in God.
Now, because it is faith that gives the soul
this particular title to Jesus Christ, the apos-
tle adds this, to declare whom he meant by
syou. For you, says he, who by him do be-
lieve in God, &c.
Where we have, 1. The complete object
of faith. 2. The ground or warrant of it.
The object, God in Christ. The ground or
warrant, In that he raised him up from the
dead, and gave him glory.
A man may have, while living out of Christ,
yea, he must, he can not choose but have a
conviction within him that there is a God;
and further he may have, even out of Christ,
some kind of belief of those things that are
spoken concerning God; but to repose on God
as his God and his salvation, which is indeed
to believe in him, this can not be but where
Christ is the medium through which we look
upon God ; for so long as we look upon God
through our own guiltiness, we can see noth-
ing but his wrath, and apprehend him as an
armed enemy ; and therefore are so far from
resting on him as our happiness, that the
more we view it, it puts us upon the more
speed to fly from him, and to cry out, Who
can dwell with everlasting burnings, and abide
with a consuming fire 2. But our Savior, ta-
king sin out of the way, puts himself between
our sins and God, and so makes a wonderful
change of our apprehension of him. When
you look through a red glass, the whole heav-
ens seem bloody ; but through pure uncolored
glass, you receive the clear light that is so
refreshing and comfortable to behold. . When
sin unpardoned is between, and we look on
God through that, we can perceive nothing
but anger and enmity in his countenance ; but
make Christ once the medium, our pure Re-
deemer, and through him, as clear, transpa-
rent glass, the beams of God's favorable coun-
tenance shine in upon the soul. The Father
can not look upon his well-beloved Son, but
graciously and pleasingly. God looks on us
out of Christ, sees us rebels, and fit to be con-
demned: we look on God as being just and
º to punish us : but when Christ is
etween, God looks on us in him as justified,
and we look on God in him as pacified, and
see the smiles of his favorable countenance.
Take Christ out, all is terrible : interpose
him, all is full of peace; therefore set him
always between, and by him we shall believe
in God.
The warrant and ground of believing in
God by Christ is this, that God raised him
jrom the dead, and gave him glory, which
evidences the full satisfaction of his death ;
and in all that work, both in his humiliation
and exaltation, standing in our room, we may
repute it his as ours. If all is paid that could
be exacted of him, and therefore he set free
from death, then are we acquitted, and have
nothing to pay. If he was raised from the
dead, and exalted to glory, then so shall we;
he hath taken possession of that glory for us,
and we may judge ourselves possessed of it
already, because he, our head, possesseth it.
And this the last words of the verse con-
firm to us, implying this to be the very pur-
pose and end for which God, having given
him to death, raised him up and gave him
glory; it is for this end, expressly, that our
faith and hope might be in God. The last
end is, that we may have life and glory
through him ; the nearer end, that in the
meanwhile, till we attain them, we may
have firm belief and hope of them, and rest
on God as the giver of them, and so in part
enjoy them beforehand, and be upheld in our
joy and conflicts by the comfort of them.
And as St. Stephen in his vision, Faith doth,
in a spiritual way, look through all the visi-
ble heavens, and see Christ at the Father's
right hand, and is comforted by that in the
greatest troubles, though it were amid a
shower of stones, as St. Stephen was. The
comfort is no less than this, that being by
faith made one with Christ, his present glory
wherein he sits at the Father's right hand,
is an assurance to us, that where he is we shall
be also. John xiv. 3.
VER. 22. Seeing ye have purified your souls in obey-
ing the truth through the Spirit, unto unfeigned
love of the brethren ; see that ye love one another
with a pure heart fervently.
JESUS CHRIST is made unto us of God, wis-
dom, righteousness, sanctification, and re-
demption, 1 Cor. i. 30. It is a known truth,
and yet very needful to be often represented
to us, that redemption and holiness are undi-
vided companions, yea, that we are redeemed
on purpose for this end, that we should be
holy. The pressing of this, we see, is here
the apostle's scope ; and having by that rea-
son enforced it in the general, he now takes
that as concluded and confessed, and so makes
use of it particularly to exhort to the exercise
of that main Christian grace of brotherly
love.
The obedience and holiness mentioned in
the foregoing verses, comprehend the whole
duties and frame of a Christian life toward
God and men: and, having urged that in the
general, he specifies this grace of mutual
Christian love, as the great evidence of their
sincerity and the truth of their love to God;
for men are subject to much hypocrisy this
way, and deceive themselves; if they find
themselves diligent in religious exercises,
they scarcely once ask their hearts how they
stand affected this way, namely, in love to
their brethren. They can come constantly
to the church, and pray, it may be, at home
too, and yet can not find in their hearts to
forgive an injury.
As forgiving injuries argues the truth of
116
[CIIAP. ſ.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
piety, so it is that which makes all converse
both sweet and profitable, and besides, it
graces and commends men in their holy pro-
fession, to such as are without and strangers
to it, yea, even to their enemies.
Therefore is it that our Savior doth so much
recommend this to his disciples, and they to
others, as we see in all their epistles. He
gives it them as the very badge and livery by
which they should be known for his followers,
By this shall all men know that you are my
disciples, if ye love one another, xiii. 35. And
St. Paul is frequent in exhorting to, and ex-
tolling this grace. See Rom. xii.10, and xiii.
8; 1 Cor. i. 13; Gal. v. 13; Eph. iv. 2; and
in many other places. He calls it the bond of
perfectness, Col. iii. 14—that grace which
unites and binds all together. So doth our
apostle here, and often in this and the other
epistle; and that beloved disciple St. John,
who leaned on our Savior's breast, drank
deep of that spring of love that was here, and
therefore it streams forth so abundantly in
his writings: they contain nothing so much
as this divine doctrine of love.
We have here, 1. The due qualifications
of it. 2. A Christian's obligation to it.
The qualifications are three : namely, sin-
cerity, purity, and fervency. The sincerity
is expressed in the former clause of the verse,
wnfeigned love, and repeated again in the
latter part, that it be with a pure heart, as the
purity is included in fervency.
1. Love must be unfeigned. It appears
that this dissimulation is a disease that is
very incident in this particular. The apostle
St. Paul hath the same word, Rom. xii. 9, and
the apostle St. John to the same sense, 1 John
iii. 18. That it have that double reality
which is opposed to double-dissembled love;
that it be cordial and effectual; that the pro-
fessing of it arise from truth of affection, and,
as much as may be, be seconded with action ;
that both the heart and the hand may be the
seal of it rather than the tongue: not court
holy-water and empty noise of service and
affection, that fears nothing more than to be
put upon trial. Although thy brother, with
whom thou conversest, can not, it may be,
see through thy false appearances, He who
commands this love looks chiefly within,
seeks it there, and, if he find it not there,
hates them most who most pretend it; so
that the art of dissembling, though ever so
well studied, can not pass in this King's court,
to whom all hearts are open, and all desires
known. When, after variances, men are
brought to an agreement, they are much
subject to this, rather to cover their remain-
ing malices with superficial verbal forgive-
ness, than to dislodge them, and free the
heart of them. This is a poor self-deceit.
As the philosopher said to him, who being
ashamed that he was espied by him in a
tavern in the outer room, withdrew himself
to the inner, he called after him, “That is
not the way out; the more you go that way,
you will be the further within it:” so when
hatreds are upon admonition not thrown out,
but retire inward to hide themselves, they
grow deeper and stronger than before ; and
those constrained semblances of reconcile-
ment are but a false healing, do but skin the
wound over, and therefore it usually breaks
forth worse again.
How few there are that have truly malice-
less hearts, and find this entire upright affec-
tion toward their brethren meeting them in
their whole conversation, this law of love
deeply impressed on their hearts, and from
thence expressed in their words and actions,
and that is unfeigned love, as real to their
brethren as to themselves.
2. It must be pure, from a pure heart.
This is not all one with the former, as some
take it. It is true, doubleness or hypocrisy
is an impurity, and a great one; but all im-
purity is not doubleness; one may really
mean that friendship and affection he expres-
ses, and yet it may be most contrary to that
which is here required, because impure ; such
a brotherly love as that of Simeon and Levi,
brethren in iniquity, as the expressing them
brethren, Gen. xlix., is taken to mean. When
hearts are cemented together by impurity
itself, by ungodly conversation and society in
sin, as in uncleanness or drunkenness, and this
is a swinish fraternity, a friendship which is
contracted, as it were by wallowing in the
same mire. Call it good fellowship, or what
you will, all the fruit that in the end can be
expected out of unholy friendliness and fel-
lowship in sinning together, is, to be tormented
together, and to add each to the torment of
another.
The mutual love of Christians must be pure,
arising from such causes as are pure and
spiritual, from the sense of our Savior's com-
mand and of his example ; for he himself
joins that with it, A new commandment give
I you, saith he, that as I have loved you, so
wou also love one another, John xiii. 34. They
that are indeed lovers of God are united, by
that their hearts meet in him, as in one cen-
tre: they can not but love one another. Where
a godly man sees his Father's image, he is
forced to love it; he loves those whom he
perceives godly, so as to delight in them, be-
cause that image is in them ; and those that
appear destitute of it, he loves them so as to
wish them partakers of that image. And
this is all for God; he loves amicum in Deo,
et inimicum propter Deum : that is, he loves
a friend in God, and an enemy for God. And
as the Christian's love is pure in its cause,
so in its effects and exercise. His society and
converse with any tend mainly to this, that
he may mutually help and be helped in the
knowledge and love of God; he desires most
that he and his brethren may jointly mind
their journey heavenward, and further one
another in their way to the full enjoyment of
God. And this is truly the love of a pure
heart, which both begins and ends in God.
WER. 22.]
117
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
3. We must love fervently, not after a cold
indifferent manner. Let the love of your
brethren be as a fire within you, consuming
that selfishness which is so contrary to it, and
is so natural to men; let it set your thoughts
on work to study how to do others good; let
your love be an active love, intense within
you, and extending itself in doing good to the
souls and bodies of your brethren as they need,
and you are able: Alium re, alium consilio,
alium Gratić (Seneca de beneficiis, lib. i., c. 2).
One by money, another by counsel, another
by kindness.
It is self-love that contracts the heart, and
shuts out all other love, both of God and man,
save only so far as our own interest carries,
and that is still self-love: but the love of God
dilates the heart, purifies love, and extends it
to all men, but after a special manner directs
it to those who are more peculiarly beloved
of him, and that is here the particular love
required.
Love of the brethren.] In this is implied
our obligation after a special manner to love
those of the household of faith, because they
are our brethren. This includes not only, as
Abraham saith, that there ought to be no strife
(Gen. xiii. 8), but it binds most strongly to
this sincere, and pure, and fervent love; and
therefore the apostle in the next verse repeats
expressly the doctrine of the mysterious new
birth, and explains it more fully, which he
had mentioned in the entrance of the epistle,
and again referred to, ver. 14, 17.
There is in this fervent love, sympathy
with the griefs of our brethren, desire and
endeavor to help them, bearing their infirmi-
ties, and recovering them too, if it may be ;
raising them when they fall, admonishing and
reproving them as is needful, sometimes
sharply and yet still in love; rejoicing in their
good, in their gifts and graces, so far from
envying them, that we be glad as if they were
our own. There is the same blood running
in their veins: you have the same Father and
the same Spirit within you, and the same
Jesus Christ, the head of that glorious frater-
nity, The first-born among many brethren,
Bom. viii. 29; of whom the apostlé saith, that
He hath recollected into one, all things in
Heaven and in earth, Eph. i. 10. The word is,
gathered them into one head, and so suits very
fitly to express our union in him. In whom,
says he in the same epistle, Eph. iv. 16, the
whole body is fitly compacted together; and he
adds that which agrees to our purpose, that
this body grows up and edifies itself in love.
All the members receive spirits from the same
head, and are useful and serviceable one to
another, and to the whole body. Thus, these
brethren, receiving of the same Spirit from
their head, Christ, are most strongly bent to
the good of one another. If there be but a
thorn in the foot, the back boweth, the head
stoops down, the eyes look, the hands reach
to it, and endeavor its help and ease: in a
and evil, one of another. Now, by how much
this body is more spiritual and lively, so much
the stronger must the union and love of the
parts of it be each to every other. You are
brethren by the same new birth, and born to
the same inheritance, and such a one as shall
not be an apple of strife among you, to be-
get debates and contentions: no, it is enough
for all, and none shall prejudge another, but
you shall have joy in the happiness one of
another; seeing you shall then be perfect in
love; all harmony, no difference in judgment
or in affection, all your harps tuned to the
same new song, which you shall sing for ever.
Let that love begin here, which shall never
end.
And this same union, I conceive, is likewise
expressed in the first words of the verse. See-
ing you are partakers of that work of sanctifi-
cation by the same word, and the same Spirit,
that works it in all the faithful, and are by
that called and incorporated into that fraterni-
ty, therefore live in it and like it. You are
purified to it; therefore love one another after
that same manner purely. Let the profane
world scoff at that name of brethren : you
will not be so foolish as to be scorned out of
it, being so honorable and happy; and the
day is at hand wherein those that scoff you,
would give much more than all that the best
of them ever possessed in the world, to be
admitted into your number.
Seeing you have purified your souls in obey-
ing the truth through the Spirit..] Here is,
1. The chief seat, or subject of the work of
sanctification, the soul. 2. The subordinate
means, truth. 3. The nature of it, obeying
of truth. 4. The chief worker of it, the Holy
Spirit. - *** -
For the first, the chief seat of sanctification,
the soul: it is no doubt a work that goes
through the whole man, renews and purifies
all. Heb. x. 22; 2 Cor. vii. 1. But because it
purifies the soul, therefore it is that it does
purify all. Their impurity begins, Matt. xv.
18; not only evil thoughts, but all evil actions
come forth from the heart, which is there all
one with the soul; and therefore this purify-
ing begins there, makes the tree good that the
fruit may be good. . It is not so much exter-
mal performances that make the difference
between men, as their inward temper. We
meet here in the same place, and all partake
of the same word and prayer; but how wide
a difference is there, in God's eye, betwixt an
unwashed profane heart in the same exercise,
and a soul purified in some measure, in obeying
the truth, and desirous to be further purified
by further obeying it ! º
Secondly, That which is the subordinate
means of this purity, is, the truth, ºr the
word of God. It is truth, pure in itself, and
it begets truth and purity in the heart, by
teaching it concerning the holy and pure
nature of God, showing it and his holy will,
which is to us the rule of purity; and by
word, all the members partake of the good representing Jesus Christ unto us as the
118
[CHAP. f.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE.
fountain of our purity and renovation, from
whose fulness we may receive grace for grace.
John i. 16.
Thirdly, The nature of this work, that
wherein the very being of this purifying con-
sists, is, the receiving or obeying of this truth.
So Gal. iii. 1, where it is put for right be-
lieving. The chief point of obedience is be-
lieving; the proper obedience to truth is to
give credit to it; and this divine belief doth
necessarily bring the whole soul into obedi-
ence and conformity to that pure truth which
is in the word; and so the very purifying and
renewing of the soul is this obedience of faith,
as unbelief is its chief impurity and disobedi-
ence; therefore, Acts xv. 9, faith is said to
purify the heart.
Fourthly, The chief worker of this sanctifi-
cation, is, the Holy Spirit of God. They are
said here to purify themselves, for it is certain
and undeniable, that the soul itself doth act
in believing or obeying the truth; but not of
itself, it is not the first principle of motion.
They purify their souls, but it is by the Spirit.
They do it by His enlivening power, and a
purifying virtue received from Him. Faith, or
obeying the truth, works this purity, but the
Holy Ghost works that faith; as in the fore-
cited place, God is said to purify their hearts
by faith, ver, 8. He doth that by giving them
the Holy Ghost. The truth is pure and puri-
fying, yet can it not of itself purify the soul,
but by the obeying or believing of it: and the
soul can not obey or believe but by the Spirit
which works in it that faith, and by that
faith purifies it, and works love in it. The
impurity and earthliness of men's minds, is
the great cause of disunion and disaffection
among them, and of all their strifes. Jamesiv. 1.
This spirit is that fire which refines and
purifies the soul from the dross of earthly de-
sires that possess it, and which sublimates it
to the love of God and of his saints, because
they are his, and are purified by the same
spirit. It is the property of fire to draw to-
gether things of the same kind: the outward
fire of enmities and persecution that are kin-
dled against the godly by the world, doth
somewhat, and if it were more considered by
them, would do more, in this knitting their
hearts closer one to another; but it is this in-
ward pure and purifying fire of the Holy
Ghost, that doth most powerfully unite them.
The true reason why there is so little truth
of this Christian mutual love among those
that are called Christians, is, because there
is so little of this purifying obedience to the
truth whence it flows. Faith unfeigned would
beget this love unfeigned. Men may exhort
to them both, but they require the hand of
God to work them in the heart.
VER. 23. Being born again, not of corruptible seed:
but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liv-
eth and abideth for ever.
THE two things which make up the apos-
tle's exhortation, are the very sum of a Chris-
tian's duty; to walk as obedient children tow-
ard God, and as loving brethren one toward
another: and that it may yet have the deeper
impression, he here represents to them anew
that new birth he mentioned before, by which
they are the children of God, and so brethren.
We shall first speak of this regeneration;
and then of the seed. 1st, Of the regenera-
tion itself. This is the great dignity of be-
lievers, that they are the sons of God, John
i. 12, as it is the great evidence of the love
of God, that he hath bestowed this dignity
on them. 1 John iii. 1. For they are no
way needful to him: he had from eternity a
Son perfectly like himself, the character of his
person, Heb. i. 3, and one Spirit proceeding
from both ; and there is no creation, neither
the first nor the second, can add anything to
those and their happiness. It is most true of
that blessed Trinity, Satis amplum alter alteri
theatrum sumus. But the gracious purpose
of God to impart his goodness appears in
this, that he hath made himself such a mul-
titude of sons, not only angels that are so
called, but man, a little lower than they in
nature, yet dignified with this name in his
creation, Luke iii. 38, Which was the son o
Adam, which was the Son of God. He had
not only the impression of God's footsteps (as
they speak), which all the creatures have,
but of his image. And most of all in this, is
his rich grace magnified, that sin having de-
faced that image, and so degraded man from
his honor, and divested him of that title of
sonship, and stamped our polluted nature
with the marks of vileness and bondage, yea,
with the very image of Satan, rebellion and
enmity against God; that out of mankind
thus ruined and degenerated, God should
raise to himself a new race and generation
of sons.
For this design was the Word made flesh,
John i. 12, the Son made man, to make men
the sons of God. And it is by him alone we are
restored to this; they who receive him, receive
with him, and in him this privilege, ver. 12.
And therefore it is a sonship by adoption, and
is so called in Scripture, in difference from his
eternal and ineffable generation, who is, and
was, the only begotten Son of God. Yet, that
we may know that this Divine adoption is
not a mere outward relative name, as that of
men, the sonship of the saints is here, and
often elsewhere in Scripture, expressed by
new generation, and new birth. They are
begotten of God. John, i.13; 1 John ii. 29.
A new being, a spiritual life, is communica-
ted to them; they have in them of their Fa-
ther's Spirit; and this is derived to them
through Christ, and therefore called his Spirit.
Gal. iv. 6. They are not only accounted of
the family of God by adoption, but by this
new birth they are indeed his children, par-
takers of the Divine nature, as Our apostle
expresseth it.
Yow though it be easy to speak and hear
the words of this doctrine, yet the truth itself
that is in it, is so high and mysterious, that it
WER. 23.]
119
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
is altogether impossible, without a portion of
this new nature, to conceive of it. Corrupt
nature can not understand it. What wonder
that there is nothing of it in the subtilest
schools of philosophers, when a very doctor
in Israel mistook it grossly John iii. 10. It
is indeed a great mystery, and he that was
the sublimest of all the evangelists, and there-
fore called the divine, the soaring eagle (as
they compare him), he is more abundant in
this subject than the rest.
And the most profitable way of considering
this regeneration and sonship, is certainly to
follow the light of those holy writings, and
not to jangle in disputes about the order and
manner of it, of which, though somewhat
may be profitably said, and safely, namely,
so much as the Scripture speaks, yet much
that is spoken of it, and debated by many,
is but a useless expense of time and pains.
What those previous dispositions are, and
how far they go, and where is the mark or
point of difference between them and the in-
fusion of spiritual life, I conceive not so ea-
sily determinable.
If naturalists and physicians can not agree
upon the order of formation of the parts of
the human body in the womb, how much less
can we be peremptory in the other ' If there
be so many wonders (as indeed there be) in
the natural structure and frame of man, how
much richer in wonders must this Divine and
supernatural generation be ' See how David
speaks of the former. Psal. xiv. 15. Things
spiritual being more refined than material
things, their workmanship must be far more
wonderful and curious. But then, it must be
viewed with a spiritual eye. There is an
unspeakable lustre and beauty of the new
creature, by the mixture of all Divine graces,
each setting off another, as so many rich sev-
eral colors in embroidery ; but who can trace
that invisible hand that works it, so as to de-
termine of the order, and to say which was
first, which second, and so on ; whether faith,
or repentance, and all graces, &c. 2 This is
certain, that these and all graces do insepa-
rably make up the same work, and are all in
the new formation of every soul that is born
again.
If the ways of God’s universal providence
be untraceable, then most of all the workings
of his grace are conducted in a secret unper-
ceivable way in this new birth. He gives
this spiritual being as the dew, which is si-
lently and insensibly formed, and this genera-
tion of the sons of God is compared to it by
the Psalmist, Psal. cx. 3: they have this ori-
ginal from Heaven as the dew. Except a
man be born from above, he can not enter into
the kingdom of God. John iii. 3. And it is
the peculiar work of the Spirit of God; as he
himself speaks of the dew to Job, Job xxxviii.
28, Hath the rain a father, or who hath begot-
ten the drops of the dew 2 The sharpest wits
are to seek in the knowledge and discovery
knoweth, and which the vulture's eye hath not
seen. Chap. xxviii. 7.
To contest much, how in this regeneration
he works upon the will, and renews it, is to
little purpose, provided this be granted, that
it is in his power to regenerate and renew a
man at his pleasure: and how is it possible
not to grant this, unless we will run into that
error, to think that God hath made a crea-
ture too hard for himself to rule, or hath wil-
lingly exempted it ! And shall the works of
the Almighty, especially this work, wherein
most of all others he glories, fail in his hand,
and remain imperfect 2 Shall there be any
abortive births whereof God is the father ?
Shall I bring to the birth, and not cause to
bring forth 2 Isa. lxvi. 9. No ; no sinner so
dead, but there is virtue in his hand to re-
vive out of the very stones. Though the
most impenitent hearts are as stones within
them yet he can make of them children to
Abraham. Luke iii. 8. He can dig out the
heart of stone, and put a heart of flesh in its
place, Ezek. xxvi. 26; otherwise, he would
not have made such a promise. Not of flesh
nor of the will of man, but of God. John
i. 13. If his sovereign will is not a sufficient
principle of this regeneration, why then says
the Apostle St. James, Of his own will begat
he us 2 Aud he adds the subordinate cause,
By the word of truth, James i. 18, which is
here called the immortal seed of this new
birth.
Therefore it is that the Lord hath appoint-
ed the continuance of the ministry of this
word, to the end that his church may be still
fruitful, bringing forth sons unto him ; that
the assemblies of his people may be like
jlocks of sheep coming up from the washing,
none barren among them. Cant. iv. 2.
Though the ministers of this word, by
reason of their employment in dispensing it,
have, by the Scriptures, the relation of pa-
rents imparted to them (which is an exceed-
ing great dignity for them as they are called
co-workers with God ; and the same apostle
that writes so, calls the Galatians his little
children, of whom he travailed in birth again
till Christ were formed in them ; and the
ministers of God have often very much pain
in this travail); yet the privilege of the
father of spirits remains untouched, which
is, effectually to beget again those same spir-
its which he creates, and to make that seed
of the word fruitful in the way and at the
season that it may please him. The preacher
of the word, be he never so powerful, can
cast this seed only into the ear ; his hand
reaches no farther; and the hearer, by his
attention, may convey it into his head; but
it is the supreme father and teacher above,
who carries it into the heart, the only soil
wherein it proves lively and fruitful. One
man can not reach the heart of another ; how
should he then renew its fruitfulness 2 If nat-
ural births have been always acknowledged
of it, as Job speaketh of a way that no fowl to belong to God's prerogative (Psal. cxxvii.
120
[CHAP. I.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
3, L0, children are a heritage of the Lord,
and the fruit of the womb is his reward ; and
so Jacob answered wisely to his wife's foolish
passion, Gen. xxx. 2, Am I in God’s stead 2)
how much more is this new birth wholly de-
pendant on his hand
But though this word can not beget with-
out him, yet it is by this word that he be-
gets, and ordinarily not without it. It is true
that the substantial eternal word is to us (as
we said) the spring of this new birth and
life, the head from whom the spirits of this
supernatural life flow ; but that by the word
here, is meant the gospel, the apostle puts
out of doubt, verse the last, And this is the
word which by the gospel is preached unto
jou. Therefore thus is this word really the
seed of this new birth, because it contains
and declares that other word, the Son of
God, as our life. The word is spoken in
common, and so is the same to all hearers;
but then, all hearts being naturally shut
against it, God doth by his own hand open
some to receive it, and mixes it with faith ;
and those it renews, and restoreth in them
the image of God, draws the traces of it
anew, and makes them the sons of God. My
doctrine shall drop as the dew, says Moses,
Deut. xxxii. 2. The word, as a heavenly dew,
not falling beside, but dropped into the heart
by the hand of God’s own Spirit, makes it
all become spiritual and heavenly, and turns
it into one of those drops of dew that the
children of God are compared to, Psalm cy. 3.
Thou hast the dew of thy youth.
The natural estate of the soul is darkness,
and the word, as a divine light shining into
it, transforms the soul into its own nature;
so that as the word is called light, so is the
soul that is renewed by it. Ye were dark-
ness, but now are ye, not only enlightened,
but light in the Lord, Eph. v. 8. All the
evils of the natural mind are often comprised
under the name of darkness and error, and
therefore is the whole work of conversion
likewise signified by light and truth: He be-
gat us by the word of truth, Jam. i. 18. So
2 Cor. iv. 16, alluding to the first Fiat Lua,
or, Let there be light, in the creation. The
word brought within the soul by the Spirit,
lets it see its own necessity, and Christ's suſ-
ficiency convinceth it thoroughly, and caus-
eth it to cast over itself upon him for life;
and this is the very begetting of it again to
eternal life.
So that this efficacy of the word to prove
successful seed, doth not hang upon the dif.
ferent abilities of the preachers, their having
more or less rhetoric or learning. It is true,
eloquence hath a great advantage in civil and
moral things to persuade, and to draw the
hearers by the ears, almost which way it
will ; but in this spiritual work, to revive a
Soul, to beget it anew, the influence of heaven
is the main thing requisite. There is no
way so common and plain (being warranted
by God in the delivery of saving truth), but
the Spirit of God can revive the soul by it;
and the most skilful and authoritative way,
yea, being withal very spiritual, yet may ef-
fect nothing, because left alone to itself. One
word of holy Scripture, or of truth conforma-
ble to it, may be the principle of regenera-
tion to him that hath heard multitudes of ex-
cellent sermons, and hath often read the
whole bible, and hath still continued un-
changed. If the Spirit of God preach that
One or any such word to the soul, God so
loved the world, that he gave his only begot-
ten Son, that whosoever should believe in him
should not perish, but have everlasting life,
John iii. 15, it will be cast down with the
fear of perishing, and driven out of itself by
that, and raised up and drawn to Jesus Christ
by the hope of everlasting liſe; it will be-
lieve on him that it may have life, and be
inflamed with the love of God, and give it-
self to him who so loved the world, as to
give his only begotten Son to purchase for
us that everlasting life. Thus may that word
prove this immortal seed, which, though very
often read and heard before, was but a
dead letter. A drop of those liquors which
are called spirits operates more than large
draughts of other waters ; one word spoken
by the Lord to the heart is all spirit, and
doth that which whole streams of man’s elo-
quence could never effect.
In hearing of the word, men look usually
too much upon men, and forget from what
spring the word hath its power; they ob-
serve too narrowly the different hand of the
Sowers, and too little depend on his hand,
who is great Lord of both seed-time and har-
vest. Be it sown by a weak hand, or a
stronger, the immortal seed is still the same;
yea, suppose the worst, that it be a foul hand
that sows it, that the preacher himself be not
so sanctified and of so edifying a life as you
would wish, yet, the seed itself, being good,
contracts no defilement, and may be effectual
to regeneration in some, and to the strength-
ening of others; although he that is not re-
newed by it himself, can not have much
hope of success, nor reap much comfort by it,
and usually doth not seek nor regard it much;
but | instruments are alike in an Almighty
hand.
Hence learn, 1. That true conversion is not
so slight a work as we commonly account it.
It is not the outward change of some bad cus-
toms, which gains the name of a reformed
man, in the ordinary dialect ; it is a new
birth and being, and elsewhere called a new
creation. Though it, be but a change in
qualities, yet it is such a one, and the quali-
ties are so far different, that it bears the
name of the most substantial productions:
from children of disobedience, and that which
is linked with it, heirs of wrath, to be sons of
God, and heirs of glory! They have a new
spirit given them, a free, princely, noble spir-
it, as the word is, Psal. ii. 10, and this spirit
acts in their life and actions.
WER. 24.]
121
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
2. Consider this dignity, and be kindled
with an ambition worthy of it. How doth a
Christian pity that poor vanity which men
make so much noise about, of their kindred
and extraction ? This is worth glorying in
indeed, to be of the highest blood-royal, sons
of the King of kings by this new birth, and in
the nearest relation to him. This adds match-
less honor to that birth which is so honora-
ble in the esteem of the world.
But we all pretend to be of this number.
Would we not study to cozen ourselves, the
discovery whether we are, or not, would not
be so hard.
In many, their false confidence is too evi-
dent; there is no appearance in them of the
Spirit of God, not a footstep like his leading,
nor any trace of that character, Rom. viii. 14,
As many as are led by the Spirit of God, they
are the children of God ; not a lineament of
God’s visage, as their Father. If ye know
that he is righteous (says St. John, ch. ii. 29),
ye know then that every one that doth righte-
ousness is born of him. And so, on the other
hand, how contrary to the most holy God,
the lover and fountain of holiness, are they
who swinishly love to wallow in the mire of
unholiness! Is swearing and cursing the ac-
cent of the regenerate, the children of God?
No ; it is the language of hell. Do children
delight to indignify and dishonor their fa-
ther's name 2 No ; earthly-mindedness is a
countersign. Shall the king's children, the
that were brought up in scarlet (as Jeremia
laments), embrace the dunghill 2. Lam. iv. 5.
Princes, by their high birth, and education,
have usually their hearts filled with far higher
thoughts than mean persons: the children of
the poorest sort being pinched that way,
their greatest thoughts, as they grow up, are,
ordinarily, how they shall shift to live, how
they shall get their bread; but princes think
either of the conquest or governing of king-
doms. Are you not born to a better inherit-
ance, if indeed you are born again: why then
do you vilify yourselves 2 Why are you not
more in prayer 2 There are no dumb chil-
dren among those that are born of God; they
have all that Spirit of prayer by which they
not only speak, but cry, Abba, Father.
2dly. We come to consider the seed of this
regeneration, the word of God. The most part
of us esteem the preaching of the word, as
a transient discourse that amuses us for an
hour. We look for no more, and therefore
we find no more. We receive it not as the
immortal seed of our regeneration, as the in-
grafted word that is able to save our souls.
Jam... i. 21. Oh learn to reverence this holy
and happy ordinance of God, this word of
life, and know, that they who are not regen-
º, and so saved by it, shall be judged
y 1t.
Not of corruptible seed.] It is a main
cause of the unsuitable and unworthy beha-
vior of Christians (those that profess them-
selves such), that a great part of them either
do not know, or at least do not seriously and
frequently consider, what is indeed the estate
and quality of Christians, how excellent and
of what descent their new nature is ; there-
fore they are often to be reminded of this.
Our apostle here doth so, and by it binds on
all his exhortations.
Of this new being we have here these
two things specified : 1. Its high origi-
nal from God, Begotten again of his word :
2. That which so much commends good
things, its duration. And this follows from
the other; for if the principle of this be incor-
ruptible, itself must be so too. The word of
God is not only a living and ever-abiding
word in itself, bnt likewise in reference to
this new birth and spiritual life of a Chris-
tian ; and in this sense that which is here
spoken of it, is intended: it is therefore called,
not only an abiding word but incorruptible
seed, which expressly relates to regeneration.
And because we are most sensible of the good
and evil of things by comparison, the ever-
lastingness of the word and of that spiritual
life which it begets, is set off by the frailty
and shortness of natural life, and of all the
good that concerns it. This the apostle ex-
presseth in the words of Isaiah, in the next
VerSe.
VER. 24. For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory
of man as the flower of grass: the grass withereth,
and the flower thereof falleth away.
IN expressing the vanity and frailty of the
natural life of man, it agrees very well with
the subject to call him flesh, giving to the
whole man the name of his corruptible part,
both to make the wretched and perishing
condition of this life more sensible, and man
the more humble by it; for though by provi-
ding all for the flesh, and bestowing his
whole time in the endeavors which are of the
flesh's concernment, he remembers it too
much, and forgets his spiritual and immortal
part; yet, in that over-eager care for the
flesh, he seems, in some sense, to forget that
he is flesh, or, at least, that flesh is perishing
because flesh ; extending his desires and pro-
jects so far for the flesh, as if it were immor-
tal, and should always abide to enjoy and use
these things. As the philosopher said of his
countrymen, upbraiding at once their surfeit-
ings and excess in feasting, and their sump-
tuousness in building, “That they ate as if
they meant to die to-morrow, and yet built as
if they were never to die:” thus, in men's im-
moderate pursuits of earth, they seem both to
forget they are anything else beside flesh,
and in this sense, too, to forget that they are
flesh, that is, mortal and perishing ; they
rightly remember neither their immortality
nor their mortality. If we consider what it
is to be flesh, the naming of that were suffi-
cient to the purpose: All man is flesh ; but it
is plainer thus, All flesh is grass. Thus, in
the lxxviiith Psalm, He remembered that they
were but flesh ; that speaks their frailty
16
122
[C&AP. i.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
enough ; but it is added, to make the vanity
of their estate the clearer—a wind that pas-
seth and cometh not again. So Psal. ciii. 15.
As for man, his days are as grass, as a flower
of the field so he flourisheth. For the wind
passeth over it and it is gone, and the place
thereof shall know it no more.
This natural life is compared, even by nat-
ural men, to the vainest things, and scarcely
find they things light enough to express its
vanity ; as it is here called grass, so they
have compared the generations of men to the
leaves of trees. But the light of Scripture
doth most discover this, and it is a lesson that
requires the Spirit of God to teach it aright.
Teach us (says Moses, Psal. xc. 12) so to num-
ber our days that we may apply our hearts
wnto wisdom. And David (Psal. xxxix. 4),
Make me to know my life, how frail I am. So
James iv. 14, What is your life 2 it is even a
vapor. And here it is called grass. So Job
xiv. 1, 2, Man that is born of a woman, is of
few days and full of trouble. He cometh
forth like a flower and is cut down.
Grass hath its root in the earth, and is fed
by the moisture of it for a while; but besides
that, it is under the hazard of such weather
as favors it not, or of the scythe that cuts it
down: give it all the forbearance that may
be, let it be free from both those, yet how
quickly will it wither of itself! Set aside
those many accidents, the smallest of which
is able to destroy our natural life, the dis-
eases of our own bodies, and outward violen-
ces, and casualties that cut down many in
their greenness, in the flower of their youth,
the utmost term is not long ; in the course of
nature it will wither. Our life indeed is a
lighted torch, either blown out by some stroke
or some wind, or, if spared, yet within a
while it burns away, and will die out of
itself.
And all the glory of man.]. This is ele-
gantly added. There is indeed a great deal
of seeming difference between the outward
conditions of life among men. Shall the rich,
and honorable, and beautiful, and healthful,
go in together, under the same name, with
the baser and unhappier part, the poor,
wretched sort of the world, who seem to be
born for nothing but sufferings and miseries?
At least hath the wise no advantage beyond
the fools? Is all grass? Make you no dis-
tinction ? No; all is grass, or if you will
have some other name, be it so: once, this is
true, that all flesh is grass: and if that glory
which shines so much in your eyes, must
have a difference, then this is all it can have
—it is but the flower of that same grass;
somewhat above the common grass in gay-
ness, a little comelier, and better apparelled
than it, but partaker of its frail and fading
nature; it hath no privilege nor immunity
that way; yea, of the two, is the less dura-
ble, and usually shorter lived ; at the best it
decays with it: The #. withereth, and the
Jlower thereof falleth away.
How easily and quickly hath the highest
splendor of a man’s prosperity been blasted,
either by men's power, or by the immediate
hand of God . The Spirit of the Lord blows
upon it (as Isaiah there º and by that,
not only withers the grass, but the flower
fades though never so fair. When thou cor-
rectest man for iniquity, says David, thou
makest his beauty to consume away like a
moth. Psal. xxxix. 11. How many have the
casualties of fire, or war, or shipwreck, in
one day, or in one night, or in a small part of
either, turned out of great riches into extreme
poverty And the instances are not few, of
those who have on a sudden fallen from the
top of honor into the foulest disgraces, not by
degrees coming down the stair they went up,
but tumbled down headlong. And the most
vigorous beauty and strength of body, how
doth a few days' sickness, or if it escape that,
a few years' time, blast that flower Yea,
those higher advantages which have some-
what both of truer and more lasting beauty
in them, the endowments of wit, and learn-
ing, and eloquence, yea, and of moral good-
ness, and virtue, yet they can not rise above
this word, they are still, in all their glory,
but the flower of grass ; their root is in the
earth. Natural ornaments are of some use
in this present life, but they reach no farther.
When men have wasted their strength, and
endured the toil of study night, and day,
it is but a small parcel of knowledge they
can attain to, and they are forced to lie down
in the dust in the midst of their pursuit of it:
that head that lodges most sciences shall
within a while be disfurnished of them all ;
and the tongue that speaks most languages
be silenced.
The great projects of kings and princes,
and they also themselves, come under this
same notion; all the vast designs that are
framing in their heads fall to the ground in a
moment; They return to their dust and in
that day all their thoughts perish. Psal. cxlvi.
4. Archimedes was killed in the midst of his
demonstration.
If they themselves did consider this in the
heat of their affairs, it would much allay the
swelling and loftiness of their minds; and if
they who live upon their favor would con-
sider it, they would not value it at so high a
rate, and buy it so dear as often they do. Men
of low degree are vanity, says the Psalmist
(Psal. lxii. 9), but he adds, Men of high de-
gree are a lie. From base, mean persons we
expect nothing; but the estate of great per-
sons promises fair, and often keeps not;
therefore they are a lie, although they can
least endure that word.
They are, in respect of mean persons, as
the flower to the grass; a somewhat fairer
lustre they have, but no more endurance, nor
exemption from decaying. Thus then, it is
a universal and undeniable truth: it begins
here with diári, and is as sure a conclusion as
the surest of those in their best demonstra-
VER. 25.]
123
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
tions, which they call 66rt. And as particu-
lar men, so, whole states and kingdoms have
thus their budding, flourishing, and wither-
ing, and it is in both as with flowers—when
they are fullest spread, then they are near their
declining and withering. And thus it is with
all whole generations of men upon earth: as
Solomon says, One goeth, and another cometh,
Eccl. i. 4; but not a word of abiding at all.
We, in our thoughts, shut up death into a
very narrow compass, namely, into the mo-
ment of our expiring; but the truth is, as the
moralist observes, it goes through all our life;
for we are still losing and spending life as we
enjoy it, yea, our very enjoying of it is the
spending of it. ... Yesterday's life is dead to-
day, and so shall this day's life be to-morrow.
We spend our years, says Moses, as a tale
(Psal. xc. 8), or as a thought, so swift and
vanishing is it. Every word helps a tale
toward its end ; while it lasts, it is generally
vanity, and when it is done, it vanishes as a
sound in the air. What is become of all the
pompeus solemnities of kings and princes at
their births and marriages, coronations and
triumphs 2 They are now as a dream ; as St.
Luke (Acts xxv. 23) calls the pomp of Agrip-
pa and Bernice, pavragia, a mere phantasy.
Hence, learn the folly and pride of man,
who can glory and please himself in the frail
and wretched being he hath here, who doats
on this poor natural life, and can not be per-
suaded to think on one higher and more abi-
ding, although the course of time, and his
daily experience, tell him this truth, that all
flesh is grass. Yea, the prophet prefixes to
these words a command ..". ; they must
be shouted aloud in our ears, ere we will hear
them, and by that time the sound of the cry
is done, we have forgotten it again. Would
we consider this, in the midst of those vani-
ties that toss our light minds to and fro, it
would give us wiser thoughts, and ballast
our hearts; make them more solid and stead-
fast in those spiritual endeavors which con-
cern a durable condition, a being that abides
for ever ; in comparison of which, the longest
term of natural life is less than a moment,
and the happiest estate of it but a heap of
miseries. Were all of us more constantly
prosperous than any one of us is, yet that one
thing were enough to cry down the price we
put upon this life, that it continues not. As
he answered to one who had a mind to flat-
ter him in the midst of a pompous triumph,
by saying, What is wanting here ? Continu-
ance, said he. It was wisely said at any
time, but wisest of all, to have so sober a
thought in such a solemnity, in which weak
heads can not escape either to be wholly
drunk, or somewhat giddy at least. Surely
we forget this, when we grow vain upon any
human glory or advantage; the color of it
pleases us, and we forget that it is but a flow-
er, and foolishly over-esteem it. This is like
that madness upon flowers, which is some-
where prevalent, where they will give as
much for one flower as would buy a good
dwelling-house. Is it not a most foolish bar-
gain, to bestow continual pains and diligence
upon the purchasing of great possessions or
honors, if we believe this, that the best of
them is no other than a short-lived flower,
and to neglect the purchase of those glorious
mansions of eternity, a garland of such flow-
ers as wither not, an unfading crown, that
everlasting life, and those everlasting pleas-
ures that are at the right hand of God 2
Now, that life which shall never end must
begin here; it is the new spiritual life, where-
of the word of God is the immortal seed ; and
in opposition to corruptible seed and the cor-
ruptible life of flesh, it is here said to endure
for ever. And for this end is the frailty of
natural life mentioned, that our affections may
be drawn off from it to this spiritual life,
which is not subject unto death.
VER. 25. But the word of the Lord endureth for ever;
and this is the word which by the gospel is preach-
ed unto you.
THE word of God is so like himself, and
carries so plainly the image and impression
of his power and wisdom, that where they
are spoken of together, it is sometimes
doubtful whether the expressions are to be
referred to himself or to his word (as Heb. iv.
12; and so here): but there is no hazard in
referring them either way, seeing there is
truth in both, and pertinency too; for they
who refer them to God, affirm that they are
intended for the extolling of his word, being
the subject in hand, and that we may know
it to be like him. But I rather think here
that the apostle speaks of the word; it is said
to be quick or living (;5v) in the fore-cited
text, as well as in the passage before us : and
the phrase abiding for ever, is expressly re-
peated of it here, in the prophet’s words.
And (with respect to those learned men that
apply them to God) I remember not that this
abiding for ever is used to express God’s eter-
nity in himself. Howsoever, this incorrupti-
ble seed is the living and everlasting word
of the living and everlasting , God, and is
therefore such, because he, whose it is, is
such.
Now, this is not to be taken in an abstract
sense of the word only in its nature, but as
the principle of regeneration, the seed of this
new life ; because the word is enlivening and
living, therefore they with whom it is effectual,
and into whose hearts it is received, are be-
gotten again and made alive by it; and be-
cause the word is incorruptible, and endureth
for ever, therefore that life begotten by it is
such too, can not perish or be cut down, as
the natural life; no, this spiritual life of grace
is the certain beginning of that eternal life of
glory, and shall issue in it, and therefore
hath no end.
124
[CHAP. I;
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
As the word of God in itself can not be
abolished, but surpasses the permanence of
heaven and earth, as our Savior teaches;
and all the attempts of men against the Di-
vine truth of that word to undo it are as vain
as if they should consult to pluck the sun out
of the firmament; so, likewise, in the heart
of a Christian, it is immortal and incorrupti-
ble. Where it is once received by faith, it
can not be obliterated again: all the powers
of darkness can not destroy it, although they
be never so diligent in their attempts that
way. And this is the comfort of the saints,
that though the life, which God by his word
hath breathed into their souls, have many and
strong enemies, such as they themselves could
never hold out against, yet for his own glory
and his promise sake, he will maintain that
life, and bring it to its perfection ; God will
perfect that which concerneth me, saith the
psalmist, Psal. cxxxviii. 8. It is grossly con-
trary to the truth of the Scriptures to imagine
that they who are thus renewed can be un-
born again. This new birth is but once, of
one kind: though they are subject to frailties
and weaknesses here in this spiritual life,
yet not to death any more, nor to such way
of sinning as would extinguish this life.
This is that which the Apostle John says,
He that is born of God sinneth not ; and the
reason he adds is the same that is here given,
the permanence and incorruptibleness of this
word, The seed of God abideth in him. John
iii. 9.
This is the word which by the gospel is
preached unto you..] It is not sufficient to
have these thoughts of the word of God in a
general way, and not to know what that
word is ; but we must be persuaded that that
word which is preached to us is this very
word of so excellent virtue, and of which
these high things are spoken; that it is incor-
ruptible and abideth for ever, and therefore
surpasses all the world, and all the excellen-
cies and glory of it. Although delivered by
weak men—the apostles, and by far weaker
than they in the constant ministry of it—yet
it loseth none of its own virtue; for that de-
pends upon the first Owner and author of it,
the everliving GOD, who by it begets his
chosen unto life eternal.
This, therefore, is that which we should learn
thus to hear, and thus to receive, esteem, and
love, this holy, this living word; to despise
all the glittering vanities of this perishing
life, all outward pomp, yea, all inward worth,
all wisdom and natural endowments of mind,
in comparison of the heavenly light of the
gospel preached unto us: rather to hazard
all than lose that, and banish all other things
from the place that is due to it; to lodge it
alone in our hearts, as our only treasure here,
and the certain pledge of that treasure of
glory laid up for us in heaven. To which
blessed state may God of his infinite mercy
bring us! Amen.
CHAPTER II.
WER. 1. Wherefore laying aside all malice and all
guile, and hypocrisies, and envies, and all evil
speakings;
VER. 2. As newborn babes, desire the sincere milk
of the word, that ye may grow thereby.
THE same power and goodness of God that
manifests itself in giving being to his crea-
tures, appears likewise in sustaining and pre-
serving them. To give being is the first, and
to support it is the continued effect of that
power and goodness. Thus it is both in
the first creation, and in the second. In the
first, the creatures to which he gave life, he
provided with convenient nourishment to up-
hold that life (Gen. i. 11): so here, in the
close of the former chapter, we find the doc-
trine of the new birth and life of a Christian,
and in the beginning of this, the proper food
of that life. And it is the same word by
which we there find it to be begotten, that is
here the nourishment of it; and therefore
Christians are here exhorted by the #postle
so to esteem and so to use it; and that is the
main scope of the words.
Observe in general : The word, the princi-
ple, and the support of our spiritual being, is
both the incorruptible seed and the incorrup-
tible food of that new life of grace, which
must therefore be an incorruptible life; and
this may convince us, that the ordinary
thoughts, even of us who hear this word, are
far below the true excellency and worth of
it. The stream of custom and our profession
bring us hither, and we sit out our hour un-
der the sound of this word; but how few con-
sider and prize it as the great ordinance of
God for the salvation of souls, the beginner
and the sustainer of the Divine life of grace
within us! And certainly, until we have
these thoughts of it, and seek to feel it thus
ourselves, although we hear it most frequent-
ly, and let slip no occasion, yea, hear it with
attention, and some present delight, yet still
we miss the right use of it, and turn it from
its true end, while we take it not as that in-
rafted word which is able to save our souls.
ames i. 21.
Thus ought they who preach to speak it :
to endeavor their utmost to accommodate it
to this end, that sinners may be converted,
begotten again, and believers nourished and
strengthened in their spiritual life; to regard
no lower end, but aim steadily at that mark.
Their hearts and tongues ought to be set on
fire with holy zeal for God and love to souls,
kindled by the Holy Ghost, that came down
on the apostles in the shape of fiery tongues.
And those that hear should remember this
as the end of their hearing, that they may re-
ceive spiritual life and strength by the word.
For though it seems a poor despicable busi-
ness, that a frail sinful man like yourselves
should speak a few words in your hearing,
yet, look upon it as the way wherein God
VER. 1, 2.]
125
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
communicates happiness to those who be-
lieve, and works that believing unto happi-
ness, alters the whole frame of the soul, and
makes a new creation, as it begets it again
to the inheritance of glory. Consider it thus,
which is its true notion ; and then what can
be so precious 2 Let the world disèsteem it
as they will, know ye, that it is the power of
God unto salvation. The preaching of the
cross is to them that perish foolishness; but
unto them that are saved, it is the power o
God, says the apostle, 1 Cor. i. 18. And if
you would have the experience of this, if you
would have life and growth by it, you must
look above the poor worthless messenger, and
call in His almighty help, who is the Lord
of life. As the philosophers affirm, that if
the heavens should stand still, there would
be no generation or flourishing of anything
here below, so it is the moving and influence
of the Spirit that makes the church fruitful.
Would you but do this before you come here,
present the blindness of your minds and the
deadness of your hearts to God, and say,
“Lord, here is an opportunity for thee to
show the power of thy word. I would find
life and strength in it; but neither can I who
hear, nor he that speaks, make it thus unto
me: that is thy prerogative ; say thou the
word, and it shall be done.” God said let
there be light, and it was light.
In this exhortation to the due use of the
Word, the apostle continues the resemblance
of that new birth he mentioned in the prece-
ding chapter.
As newborn babes.] Be not satisfied with
yourselves, till you find some evidence of this
new, this supernatural life. There be de-
lights and comforts in this life, in its low-
est condition, that would persuade us to
look after it, if we knew them ; but as the
most can not be made sensible of these,
consider therefore the end of it. Better
never to have been than not to have been
partaker of this new being. Eaccept a man be
born again, says our Savior, he can not enter
into the kingdom of God, John iii. 3. Surely
they that are not born again, shall one day
wish they had never been born. What a
poor wretched thing is the life that we have
here ! a very heap of follies and miseries'
Now if we would share in a happier being
after it, in that life which ends not, it must
begin here. Grace and glory are one and
the same life, only with this difference, that
the one is the beginning, and the other the
perfection of it; or, if we do call them two
several lives, yet the one is the undoubted
pledge of the other. It was a strange word
for a heathen to say, that that day of death
We fear so, atterni natalis est, is the birthday
of eternity. Thus it is indeed to those who
are here born again: this new birth of grace
is the sure earnest and pledge of that birthday
of glory. . Why do we not then labor to make
this certain by the former ? Is it not a fear-
ful thing to spend our days in vanity, and
then lie down in darkness and sorrow for
ever ; to disregard the life of our soul, while
we may and should be provident for it, and
then, when it is going out, cry, “Quà nunc
abibis 2 Whither art thou going, O my soul?”
But this new life puts us out of the danger
and fear of that eternal death. We are passed
from death to life, says St. John, 1 John iii.
14, speaking of those who are born again;
and being passed, there is no repassing, no
going back from this life to death again.
This new birth is the same that St. John
calls the first resurrection, and he pronounces
them blessed who partake of it: Blessed are
they that have part in the first resurrection ;
the second death shall have no power over
them. Rev, xx. 6.
The weak beginnings of grace, weak in
comparison of the further strength attainable
even in this life, are sometimes expressed as
the infancy of it; and so believers ought not
to continue infants; if they do, it is reprova-
ble in them, as we see, Eph. iv. 14, 1 Cor.
ii. 2, and kiv. 20, Heb. v. 12. Though the
apostle writes to new converts, and so may
possibly imply the tenderness of their begin-
nings of grace, yet I conceive that infancy is
here to be taken in such a sense as agrees to
a Christian in the whole course and best
estate of his spiritual life here below. So,
likewise, the milk here recommended is an-
swerable to infancy, taken in this sense, and
not in the former (as it is in some of those
cited places, where it means the easiest and
first principles of religion, and so is opposed
to the higher mysteries of it, as to strong
meat); but here it signifies the whole word
of God, and all its wholesome and saving
truths, as the proper nourishment of the chil-
dren of God. And so the apostle's words are
a standing exhortation for all Christians of
all degrees.
And the whole estate and course of their
spiritual life here is called their infancy, not
only as opposed to the corruption and wick-
edness of the old man, but likewise as signi-
fying the weakness and imperfection of it, at
its best in this life, compared with the per-
fection of the life to come; for the weakest
beginnings of grace are by no means so far
below the highest degree of it possible in this
life, as that highest degree falls short of the
state of glory; so that, if one measure of
grace is called infancy in respect of another,
much more is all grace infancy in respect of
glory. And surely, as for duration, the time
of our present life is far less compared to
eternity, than the time of our natural infancy
is to the rest of our life; so that we may be
still called but new or lately born. Our, best
pace and strongest walking in obedience here,
is but as the stepping of children when they
begin to go by hoſd, in comparison of the
perfect obedience in glory, when we shall
follow the Lamb wheresoever he goes. All
our knowledge here is but as the ignorance
of infants, and all our expressions of God and
I26
[CHAP. II
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
of his praises but as the first stammerings of
children, in comparison of the knowledge we
shall have of him hereafter, when we shall
know as we are known, and of the praises we
shall then offer him, when that new song
shall be taught us. A child hath in it a rea-
sonable soul, and yel, by the indisposedness
of the body, and abundance of moisture, it is
so bound up, that its difference from the
beasts in partaking of a rational life is not so
apparent as afterward; and thus the spir-
itual life is that from above infused into a
Christian, though it doth act and work in
some degree, yet it is so clogged with the
natural corruption still remaining in him,
that the excellency of it is much clouded and
obscured ; but in the life to come, it shall
have nothing at all incumbering and indis-
posing it. And this is the Apostle St. Paul's
doctrine, 1 Cor. xiii. 9–12.
And this is the wonder of divine grace, that
brings so small beginnings to that height of
perfection that we are not able to conceive
of; that a little spark of true grace, which is
not only indiscernible to others, but often to
the Christian himself, should yet be the be-
ginning of that condition wherein they shall
shine brighter than the sun in the firmament.
The difference is great in our natural life, in
some persons especially; that they who in
infancy were so feeble, and wrapped up as
others in Swaddling clothes, yet afterward
come to excel in wisdom and in the knowl-
edge of sciences, or to be commanders of
great armies, or to be kings; but the distance
is far greater and more admirable between
the weakness of these newborn babes, the
small beginnings of grace, and our after-
perfection, that fulness of knowledge that
we look for, and that crown of immortal-
ity which all they are born to who are born
of God.
But as in the faces or actions of children,
characters and presages of their after-great-
ness have appeared (as a singular beauty in
Moses's face, as they write of him, and as
Cyrus was made king among the shepherd's
children with whom he was brought up,
&c.), so also, certainly, in these children of
God, there be some characters and evidences
that they are born for heaven by their new
birth. That holiness and meekness, that pa-
tience and faith, which shine in the actions
and sufferings of the saints, are characters of
their father's image, and show their high
original, and foretell their glory to come:
such a glory as doth not only surpass the
world's thoughts, but the thoughts of the
children of God themselves. 1 John iii. 2.
Now that the children of God may grow
by the word of God, the apostle requires
these two things of them : 1. The innocency
of children; 2. The appetite of children.
For this expression, as I conceive, is relative
not only to the desiring of the milk of the
word, ver. 2, but to the former verse, the
putting off malice. So, the Apostle Paul ex-
horts, 1 Cor. xiv. 20, As concerning malice,
be ye children.
Wherefore laying aside.] This imports
that we are naturally prepossessed with these
evils, and therefore we are exhorted to put
them off. Our hearts are by nature no other
than cages of those unclean birds, malice,
envy, hypocrisy, &c. The apostle sometimes
names some of these evils, and sometimes
others of them, but they are inseparable, all
one garment, and all comprehended under that
One word, Eph. iv. 22, the old man, which
the apostle there exhorts Christians to put
off; and here it is pressed as a necessary evi-
dence of their new birth, as well as for the
furtherance of their spiritual growth, that
these base habits be thrown away: ragged,
filthy habits, unbeseeming the children of
God. They are the proper marks of an unre-
newed mind, the very characters of the chil-
dren of Satan, for they constitute his image.
He hath his names from enmity, and envy,
and slandering ; and he is that grand hypo-
crite and deceiver, who can transform him-
self into an angel of light. 2 Cor. xi. 14.
So, on the contrary, the Spirit of God that
dwells in his children is the spirit of meek-
mess, and love, and truth. That dovelike
spirit which descended on our Savior, is from
him communicated to believers. It is the
grossest impudence to pretend to be Chris-
tians, and yet to entertain hatred and envy-
ings upon whatsoever occasion; for there is
nothing more frequently recommended to
them by our Savior’s own doctrine, nothing
more impressed upon their hearts by his
Spirit, than love. Kakia may be taken gene-
rally, but I conceive it intends that which
we particularly call malice.
Malice and envy are but two branches
growing ont of the same bitter root; self-love
and evil speakings are the fruit they bear.
Malice is properly the procuring or wish-
ing another's evil—envy the repining at his
good ; and both these vent themselves by evil
speaking. This infernal fire within smokes
and flashes out by the tongue, which, St.
James says, is set on fire of hell (iii. 6), and
fires all about it; censuring the actions of
those they hate or envy, aggravating their
failings, and detracting from their virtues,
taking all things by the left ear; for (as Epic-
tetus says) everything hath two handles. The
art of taking things by the better side, which
charity always doth, would save much of
those janglings and heart-burnings that so
abound in the world. But folly and perverse-
ness possess the hearts of the most, and there-
fore their discourses are usually the vent of
these ; For out of the abundance of the heart
the mouth must speak. Matt. xii. 34. The
unsavory breaths of men argue their inward
corruption. . Where shall a man come, al-
most, in societies, but his ears shall be beaten
with the unpleasant noise (surely it is so to a
Christian mind) of one detracting and dispar-
aging another? And yet this is extreme
WER. 1, 2.]
127
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
baseness, and the practice only of false coun-
terfeit goodness, to make up one's own reputa-
tion out of the ruins of the good name of oth-
ers. Real virtue neither needs nor can endure
this dishonest shift; it can subsist of itself,
and therefore ingenuously commends and ac-
knowledges what good exists in others, and
loves to hear it acknowledged; and neither
readily speaks nor hears evil of any, but
rather, where duty and conscience require
not discovery, casts a veil upon men's fail-
ings to hide them : this is the true temper of
the children of God.
These evils of malice, and envy, and evil
speakings, and such like, are not to be dissem-
bled by us, in ourselves, and conveyed under
better appearances, but to be cast away; not
to be covered, but put off; and therefore that
which is the upper garment and cloak of all
other evils, the apostle here commands us to
cast that off too, namely, hypocrisy.
What avails it to wear this mask 2. A man
may indeed in the sight of men act his part
handsomely under it, and pass so for a time;
but know we not that there is an eye that
sees through it, and a hand that, if we will
not put off this mask, will pull it off to our
shame, either here in the sight of men, or, if
we should escape all our life, and go fair off
the stage under it, yet that there is a day
appointed wherein all hypocrites shall be un-
Veiled, and appear what they are indeed be-
fore men and angels? It is a poor thing to
be approved and applauded by men, while
God condemns, to whose sentence all men
must stand or fall. Oh! seek to be approved
and justified by him, and then who shall con-
demn 3 Rom. viii. 34. It is no matter who
do. How easily may we bear the mistakes
and dislikes of all the world, if he declare
himself well pleased with us ! It is a small
thing for me to be judged of man, or man’s
day: he that judgeth me is the Lord, saith
the apostle, 1 Cor. iv. 3.
But these evils are here particularly to be
put off, as contrary to the right and profitable
receiving of the word of God; for this part
of the exhortation (laying aside) looks to that
which follows (desire, &c.), and is specially
so to be considered.
There is this double task in religion: when
a man enters upon it, he is not only to be
taught true wisdom, but he is withal, yea,
first of all, to be untaught the errors and
wickedness that are deep-rooted in his mind,
which he hath not only learned by the cor-
rupt conversation of the world, but brought
the seeds of them into the world with him.
They do indeed improve and grow by the
favor of that example that is round about a
man, but they are originally in our nature
as it is now ; they are connatural to us, be-
sides being strengthened by continual custom,
which is another nature. There is no one
comes to the school of Christ suiting the phi-
losopher's word, ut tabula rasa, as blank pa-
per to receive his doctrine ; but, on the con-
trary, all scribbled and blurred with such
º habits as these, malice, hypocrisy, envy,
C.
Therefore, the first work is, to raze cut
these, to cleanse and purify the heart from
these blots, these foul characters, that it may
receive the impression of the image of God.
And because it is the word of God that both
begins and advances this work, and perfects
the lineaments of that divine image on the
soul, therefore, to the receiving of this word
aright, and to this proper effect by means of
it, the conforming of the soul to Jesus Christ,
which is the true growth of the spiritual life,
this is pre-required, that the hearts of those
who hear it be purged of these and such like
impurities.
These dispositions are so opposite to the
profitable receiving of the word of God, that
while they possess and rule the soul, it can
not at all embrace these divine truths; while
it is filled with such guests, there is no room
to entertain the word.
They can not dwell together, by reason of
their contrary nature : the word will not mix
with these. The saving mixture of the word
of God in the scul is what the apostle speaks
of, and he assigns the want of it as the cause
of unprofitable hearing of the word, Heb. iv.
2, not mixing of it with faith. For by that
the word is concocted into the nourishment of
the life of grace, united to the soul, and mixed
with it, by being mixed with faith, as the
apostle's expression imports: that is the prop-
er mixture it requires. But with the quali-
ties here mentioned it will not mix: there is a
natural antipathy betwixt them, as strong as
in those things in nature, that can not be
brought by any means to agree and mingle
together.
Can there be anything more contrary than
the good word of God, as the apostle call it,
and those evil speakings 2 than the word that
is of such excellent sweetness and the bitter
words of a malignant tongue? than the word
of life and words full of deadly poison 2 For
so slanders and defamings of our brethren are
termed. And is not all malice and envy most
opposite to the word, that is the message of
peace and love 2 . How can the gall of malice
and this milk of the word agree ? Hypocrisy
and guile stand in direct opposition to thename
of this word, which is called the word of truth;
and here the very words show this contrariety,
sincere milk, and a double, unsincere mind.
These two are necessary conditions of good
nourishment: 1st, That the food be good and
wholesome ; 2d/y, That the inward constitu-
tion of them who use it be so too. And if
this fail, the other profits not. This sincere
milk is the only proper nourishment of spirit-
ual life, and there is no defect or undue quali-
ty in it; but the greatest part of bearers are
inwardly unwholesome, diseased with the evils
here mentioned, and others of the like nature;
and therefore, either have no kind of appetite
to the word at all, but rather feed upon such
128
[CyIAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
trash as suits with their distemper (as some
kind of diseases incline those that have them
to eat coals or lime, &c.), or, if they be any-
Wise desirous to hear the word, and seem to
feed on it, yet the noxious humors that abound
in them, make it altogether unprofitable, and
they are not nourished by it. This evil of
malice and envying, so ordinary among men
(and, which is most strange, among Chris-
tians), like an overflowing of the gall, pos-
sesses their whole minds; so that they not
only fail of being nourished by the word they
hear, but are made the worse by it; their
disease is fed by it, as an unwholesome stom-
ach turns the best meat it receives into that
humor that abounds in it. Do not they thus,
who observe what the word says, that they
may be the better enabled to discover the
failings of othérs, and speak maliciously and
uncharitably of them, and vent themselves,
as is too common ? This word met well with
such a one's fault, and this with another's : —
Is not this to feed these diseases of malice,
envy, and evil speakings, with this pure milk,
and make them grow, instead of growing by
it ourselves in grace and holiness?
Thus, likewise, the hypocrite turns all that
he hears of this word, not to the inward ren-
ovation of his mind, and redressing what is
amiss there, but only to the composing of his
outward carriage, and to enable himself to
act his part better: to be cunninger in his own
faculty, a more refined and expert hypocrite;
not to grow more a Chirstian indeed, but more
such in appearance only, and in the opinion
of others.
Therefore it is a very needful advertisement,
seeing these evils are so natural to men, and
SO contrary to the nature of the word of God,
that they be purged out, to the end it may be
profitably received. A very like exhortation
to this hath the apostle St. James, and some
of the same words, but in another metaphor:
Jam. i. 21, Wherefore lay apart all filthiness,
and superfluity of naughtiness, and receive
with meekness the ingrafted word. He com-
pares the word to a plant of excellent virtue,
the very tree of life, the word that is able to
Saye your souls ; but the only soil wherein it
will grow is a heart full of meekness, a heart
that is purged of those luxuriant weeds that
grow SQ rank in it by nature; they must be
plucked up and thrown out to make place for
this word.
And there is such a necessity for this, that
the most approved teachers of wisdom, in a
human way, have required of their scholars
that, to the end their minds might be capable
of it, they should be purified from vice and
wickedness. For this reason, the philosopher
judges young men unfit hearers of moral
philosophy, because of the abounding and
untamedness of their passions, granting that,
if those were composed and ordered, they
might be admitted. And it was Socrates'
custom, when any one asked him a question,
seeking to be informed by him, before he
would answer them, he asked them concern-
ing their own qualities and course of life.
Now, if men require a calm and purified
disposition of mind to make it capable of their
doctrine, how much more is it suitable and
necessary for learning the doctrine of God,
and those deep mysteries that his word opens
up ! It is well expressed in that apocryphal
book of Wisdom, that Froward thoughts sepa-
rate from God, and wisdom enters not into a
malicious soul: no, indeed, that is a very un-
fit dwelling for it; and even a heathen
(Seneca) could say, The mind that is impure
is not capable of God and divine things.
Therefore we see the strain of that book of
Proverbs that speaks so much of this wisdom ;
it requires, in the first chapter, that they who
would hear it do retire themselves from all
ungodly customs and practices. And, indeed,
how can the soul apprehend spiritual things,
that is not in some measure refined from the
love of sin, which abuses and bemires the
minds of men, and makes them unable to
arise to heavenly thoughts? Blessed are the
pure in heart, for they shall shall see God,
says our Savior (Matt. v. 8): not only shall
see him perfectly hereafter, but so far as they
can receive him, he will impart and make
himself known unto them here. If any man
love me, he will keep my words, and my Father
will love him, and we will come unto him, and
make our abode with him. (John xiv. 23.)
What makes the word obscure is the filthy
mists within ; whereas, on the contrary, he
will in just judgment hide himself, and the
saving truth of his word, from those that en-
tertain and delight in sin: the very sins
wherein they delight shall obscure and dark-
en the light of the gospel to them, so that
though it shine clear as the sun at noonday,
they shall be as those that live in a dungeon,
they shall not discern it.
And as they receive no benefit by the word,
who have the evils here mentioned reigning
and in full strength within them, so they that
are indeed born again, the more they retain
of these the less shall they find the influence
and profit of the word; for this exhortation
concerns them. They may possibly some of
them have a great remainder of these cor-
ruptions unmortified ; therefore are they ex-
horted to lay aside entirely those evils, all
malice, all hypocrisy, &c., else, though they
hear the word often, yet they will be in a
spiritual atrophy; they will eat much, but,
grow nothing by it; they will find no in-
crease of grace and spiritual strength. |
Would we know the main cause of our.
fruitless hearing of the word; here it is:
men bring not meek and guileless spirits to
it, not minds emptied and purified to receive
it, but stuffed with malice, and hypocrisy,
and pride, and other such evils; and where
should the word enter, when all is so taken
up 2 And if it did enter, how should it pros-
per among so many enemies, or at all abide
among them 2 Either they will turn it out
WER. 1, 2.]
129
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
again, or choke and kill the power of it.
We think religion and our own lusts and se-
cret heart-idols should agree together, be-
cause we would have it so ; but this is not
possible. Therefore labor to entertain the
word of truth in the love of it, and lodge the
mystery of faith in a pure conscience, as the
Apostle St. Paul speaks (I Tim. iii. 9). Join
those together with David (Psal. cxix. 113),
I hate vain thoughts, but thy law do I love.
And as here our apostle, Lay aside all malice,
and hypocrisy, and envy, and evil speakings,
and so receive the word, or else look for no
benefit by it here, nor for salvation by it
hereafter ; bnt be prevailed upon to cast out
all impurity, and give your whole heart to
it; so desire it, that you may grow, and then,
as you desire, you shall grow by it.
Every real j hath received a life
from heaven, far more excelling our natural
life than that excels the life of the beasts.
And this life hath its own peculiar desires
and delights, which are the proper actings,
and the certain characters and evidence of it:
among others this is one, and a main one,
answerable to the like desire in natural life,
namely, a desire of food; and because it is
here still imperfect, therefore the natural end
of this is not only nourishment, but growth,
as it is here expressed.
The sincere milk of the word.] The life
of grace is the proper life of a reasonable
soul, and without it, the soul is dead, as the
body is without the soul; so that this may
be truly rendered reasonable milk, as some
read it ; but certainly, that reasonable milk
is the word of God, the milk of the word.
It was before called the immortal seed,
and here it is the milk of those that are born
again, and thus it is nourishment very agree-
able to that spiritual life according to their
saying, Iisdem ulimur ea quibus constamus,
we are nourished by that of which we con-
sist. As the milk that infants draw from the
breast, is the most connatural food to them,
being of that same substance that nourish-
ed them in the womb ; so, when they are
brought forth, that food follows them as it
were for their supply, in the way that is pro-
vided in nature for it; by certain veins it as-
cends into the breasts, and is there fitted for
them, and they are by nature directed to find
it there. Thus, as a Christian begins to live
by the power of the word, so he is by the na-
ture of that spiritual life directed to that same
word as its nourishment. To follow the re-
semblance further in the qualities of milk,
after the monkish way, that runs itself out
of breath in allegory, I conceive is neither
solid nor profitable; and to speak freely, the
curious searching of the similitude in other
qualities of milk seems to wrong the quality
here given it by the apostle, in which it is
so well resembled by milk, namely, the sim-
ple pureness and sincerity of the word; be-
sides that the pressing of comparisons of this
kind too far, proves often so constrained ere
they have done with it, that by too much
drawing they bring forth blood instead of
milk.
Pure and unmired, as milk drawn imme-
diately from the breast; the pure word of
God without the mixture, not only of error,
but of all other composition of vain unprofit-
able subtleties, or affected human eloquence,
such as become not the majesty and gravity
of God’s word. If any man speak, says our
apostle (chap. iv. 11), let him speak as the
oracles of God. Light conceits and flowers
of rhetoric wrong the word more than they
can please the hearers; the weeds among the
corn make it look gay, but it were all the bet-
ter they were not among it. Nor can those
mixtures be pleasing to any but carnal minds.
They who are indeed the children of God,
as infants who like their breast-milk best
pure, do love the word best so, and whereso-
ever they find it so, they relish it well ;
whereas natural men can not love spiritual
things for themselves, desire not the word
for its own sweetness, but would have it
sauced with such conceits as possibly spoil
the simplicity of it; or at the best, love to
hear it for the wit and learning which, with-
out any wrongful mixture of it, they find in
one person's delivering it more than anoth-
er's. But the natural and genuine appetite
of the children of God is to the word for it-
self, and only as milk, sincere milk 5 and
where they find it so, from whomsoever or
in what way soever delivered unto them,
they feed upon it with delight. Before con-
version, wit or eloquence may draw a man
to the word, and possibly prove a happy bait
to catch him (as St. Augustine reports of his
hearing St. Ambrose), but when once he is
born again, then it is the milk itself that he
desires for itself.
Desire the sincere milk.] Not only hear it
because it is your custom, but desire it because
it is your food. And it is, 1. A natural desire as
the infant’s desire of milk; not upon any ex-
ternal respect or inducement, but from an in-
ward principle and bent of nature. And be-
cause natural, therefore, 2. Earnest : not a
cold indifferent willing, that cares not wheth-
er it obtain or not, but a vehement desire,
as the word signifies, and as the resemblance
clearly bears; as a child that will not be
stilled till it have the breast ; offer it what
you will, silver, gold, or jewels, it regards
them not, these answer not its desire, and
that must be answered. Thus David (Psal.
cxix. 20), My soul breaketh for the longing
it hath to thy judgments ; as a child like to
break its heart with crying for want of the
breast. And again, because natural, it is, 3.
Constant. The infant is not cloyed nor wea-
ried with daily feeding on the breast, but de-
sires it every day, as if it had never had it
before: so the child of God hath an un-
changeable appetite for the word; it is daily
new to him; he finds still fresh delight in it.
Thus David, as before cited, My soul break-
17
130
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
eth for the longing it hath for thy judgments
at all times. And then, Psal. i., this law was
his meditation day and night. Whereas, a
natural man is easily surfeited of it, and the
very commonness and cheapness of it makes
it contemptible to him. And this is our case;
that wherein we should wonder at God's sin-
gular goodness to us, and therefore prize his
Word the more, that very thing makes us
despise it: while others, our brethren, have
bought this milk with their own blood, we
have it upon the easiest terms that can be
wished, only for the desiring, without the
hazard of bleeding for it, and scarcely need
We be at the pains of sweating for it.
That ye may grow *:::: This is not
only the end # which God hath provided
his children with the word, and moves them
to desire it, but that which they are to in-
tend in their desire and use of it; and, an-
swerable to God’s purpose, they are there-
fore to desire it, because it is proper for this
end, and that by it they may attain this end,
to grow thereby. And herein, indeed, these
children differ from infants in the natural life,
who are directed to their food beside their
knowledge, and without intention of its end ;
but this rational milk is to be deslied by the
children of God in a rational way, knowing
and intending its end, having the use of nat-
ural reason renewed and sanctified by super-
natural grace.
Now the end of this desire is, growth. De-
sire the word, not that you may only hear it;
that is to fall very far short of its true end ;
yea, it is to take the beginning of the work
for the end of it. The ear is indeed the mouth
of the mind, by which it receives the word
(as Elihu compares it, Job xxxiv. 2), but meat
that goes no further than the mouth, you
know can not nourish. Neither ought this
desire of the word to be, only to satisfy a cus-
tom ; it were an exceeding folly to make so
superficial a thing the end of so serious a
work. Again, to hear it only to stop the
mouth of conscience, that it may not clamor
more for the gross impiety of contemning it,
this is to hear it, not out of desire, but out of
fear. To desire it only for some present pleas-
ure and delight that a man may find in it, is
not the due use and end of it: that there is
delight in it, may help to commend it to
those that find it so, and so be a mean to ad-
vance the end ; but the end it is not. To
seek no more than a present delight, that
evanisheth with the sound of the words that
die in the air, is not to desire the word as
meat, but as music, as God tells the prophet
Ezekiel of his people, Ezek. xxxiii. 32: And
lo, thou art unto them as a very lovely song
of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can play
well upon an instrument ; for they hear thy
words, and they do them not. To desire the
word for the increase of knowledge, although
this is necessary and commendable, and, be-
ing rightly qualified, is a part of spiritual ac-
cretion, yet, taking it as going no further, it
is not the true end of the word. Nor is the
vesting of that knowledge in speech and fre-
quent discourse of the word and the divine
truths that are in it; which, where it is gov-
erned with Christian prudence, is not to be
despised, but commended ; yet, certainly, the
highest knowledge, and the most frequent and
skilful speaking of the word, severed from the
growth here mentioned, misses the true end
of the word. If any one's head or tongue
should grow apace, and all the rest stand at
a stay, it would certainly make him a mon-
ster; and they are no other, who are knowing
and discoursing Christians, and grow daily
in that respect, but not at all in holiness of
heart and life, which is the proper growth of
the children of God. Apposite to their case
is Epictetus's comparison of the sheep; the
return not what they eat in grass, but in wool.
David, in that czixth psalm, which is wholly
spent upon this subject, the excellency and
use of the word of God, expresseth, ver. 15,
16, 24, his delight in it, his earnest desire to
be further taught, and to know more of it;
his readiness to speak of it, ver. 13, 27; but
withal, you know, he joins his desire and
care to keep it, to hide it in his heart, &c.,
ver. 5, 11 ; to make it the man of his counsel,
to let it be as the whole assembly of his privy
counsellors, and to be ruled and guided by it;
* with him, to use it so, is indeed to grow
y it.
If we know what this spiritual life is, and
wherein the nature of it consists, we may ea-
sily know what is the growth of it. When
holiness increases, when the sanctifying
graces of the Spirit grow stronger in the
soul, and consequently act more strongly in
. life of a Christian, then he grows spiritu-
3.11W.
Kad as the word is the mean of begetting
this spiritual life, so likewise of its increase.
1. This will appear, if we consider the na-
ture of the word in general, that it is spiritu-
al and Divine, treats of the highest things,
and therefore hath in it a fitness to elevate
men's minds from the earth, and to assimi-
late to itself such as are often conversant
with it; as all kind of doctrine readily doth
to those who are much in it, and apply theif
minds to study it. Doubtless such kind of
things as are frequent with men, have an in-
fluence into the disposition of their souls.
The gospel is called light; and the children
of God are likewise called light, as being
transformed into its nature; and thus they be-
come still the more, by more hearing of it,
and so they grow.
2. If we look more particularly unto the
strain and tenor of the word, it will appear
most fit for increasing the graces of the Spir-
it in a Christian ; for there be in it particular
truths relative to them, that are apt to excite
them, and set them on work, and so to make
them grow, as all habits do, by acting. It
doth (as the apostle's word may be translated)
stir up the sparks, and blow them into a great-
WER. 3..]
131
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
er flame, make them burn clearer and hotter.
This it doth both by particular exhortation
to the study and exercise of those graces,
sometimes pressing one, and sometimes an-
other: and by right representing to them
their objects. The word feeds faith, by set-
ting before it the free grace of God, his rich
promises, and his power and truth to perform
them all ; shows it the strength of the new
covenant, not depending upon itself, but
holding in Christ, in whom all the promises
of God are yea and amen ; and drawing faith
still to rest more entirely upon his righteous-
ness. It feeds repentance, by making the vile-
ness and deformity of sin daily more clear
and visible. Still as more of the word hath
admission into the soul, the more it hates sin,
sin being the more discovered and the better
known in its own native color: as the more
light there is in a house, the more anything
that is uncleanly or deformed is seen and dis-
liked. Likewise it increaseth love to God, by
opening up still more and more of his infinite
excellency and loveliness. As it borrows the
resemblance of the vilest things in nature, to
express the foulness and hatefulness of sin, so
all the beauties and dignities that are in all
the creatures are called together in the word,
to give us some small scantling of that Un-
created Beauty that alone deserves to be
loved. Thus might its fitness be instanced
in respect to all other graces.
But above all other considerations, this is
observable in the word as the increaser of
grace, that it holds forth Jesus Christ to our
view to look upon, not only as the perfect pat-
tern, but as the full fountain of all grace, from
whose fulness we all receive. The contem-
plating of him as the perfect image of God,
and then drawing from him as having in him-
self a treasure for us, these give the soul more
of that image in which consists truly spiritual
growth. This the apostle expresseth excel-
lently, 2 Cor. iii. ult., speaking of the minis-
try of the gospel revealing Christ, that behold-
ing in him (as it is, ch. iv. 6, in his face) the
glory of the Lord, we are changed into the
same image from glory to glory, as by the
Spirit of the Lord : not only ºt we may
take the copy of his graces, but have a share
of them.
There may be many things that might be
said of this spiritual growth, but I will add
only a few.
First, on the one hand, in the judging of
his growth, some persons conclude too rigidly
against themselves, that they grow not by the
word, because their growth is not so sensible
to them as they desire. But, 1. It is well
known, that in all things that grow, this
principle is not discerned in motu sed in ter-
mino, not in the growing, but when they are
grown. 2. Besides, other things are to be
considered in this: although other graces
seem not to advance, yet if thou growest more
self-denying and humble in the sense of thy
slowness, all is not lost; although the branch-
es shoot not up so fast as thou wishest, yet,
if the root grow deeper, and fasten more, it is
a useful growth. He that is still learning to
be more in Jesus Christ, and less in himself,
to have all his dependance and comfort in
him, is doubtless a growing believer.
On the other side, a far greater number
conclude wrong in their own favor, imagining
that they do grow, if they gain ground in some
of those things we mentioned above; namely,
more knowledge and more faculty of discour-
sing, if they find often some present stirrings
of joy or sorrow in hearing of the word, if
they reform their life, grow more civil and
blameless, &c.; yet all these, and many such
things, may be in a natural man, who not-
withstanding grows not, for that is impossi-
ble; he is not, in that state, a subject capable
of this growth, for he is dead, he hath none
of the new life to which this growth relates.
Herod heard gladly, and obeyed many things,
Mark vi. 20.
Consider, then, what true delight we might
have in this. , You find a pleasure when you
see your children grow, when they begin to
stand and walk, and so forth ; you love well
to perceive your estate or your honor grow :
but for the soul to be growing liker God, and
nearer heaven, if we know it, is a pleasure far
beyond them all: to find pride, earthliness,
and Vanity abating, and faith, love, and spir-
itual-mindedness increasing ; especially if we
reflect that this growth is not as our natural
life, which is often cut off before it has at-
tained full age, as we call it, and, if it attain
that, falls again to move downward, and de-
cays, as the sun, being at its meridian, begins
to decline again; but this life shall grow on
in whomsever it is, and come certainly to its
fulness; after which, there is no more need
of this word, either for growth or nourish-
ment—no death, no decay, no old age, but
perpetual youth, and a perpetual spring ; ver
atternum, fulness of joy in the presence of
God, and everlasting pleasures at his right
hand.
VER 3. If so be ye have tasted that the Lord is gra-
cious.
OUR natural desire of food arises principal-
ly from its necessity for that end which na-
ture seeks, viz., the growth, or at least the
nourishment of our bodies. But there is be-
sides, a present sweetness and pleasantness
in the use of it, that serves to sharpen our
desire, and is placed in our nature for that
purpose. ...Thus the children of God, in their
spiritual life, are naturally carried to desire
the means of their nourishment and of their
growth, being always here in a growing
state ; but withal there is a spiritual delight
and sweetness in the word, in that which it
reveals concerning God, and this adds to their
desire, stirs up their appetite toward it. The
former idea is expressed in the foregoing
verse, the latter in this. Nature disposes the
infant to the breast; but when it hath once
132
[CHAP. II"
A COMMENTARY UPON THE.
tasted of it, that is a new superadded attrac-
tive, and makes it desire after it the more
earnestly. So here,
The word is fully recommended to us by
these two, usefulness and pleasantness: like
milk (as it is compared here), which is a
nourishing food, and withal sweet and delight-
ful to the taste: by it we grow, and in it we
taste the graciousness of God. David, in that
psalm which he dedicates wholly to this sub-
ject, gives both these as the reason of his ap-
petite. His love to it he expresses patheti-
cally (cxix. 97), O how love I thy law / It
follows, that by it he was made wiser than
his enemies—than his teachers—and than the
ancients ; taught to refrain from every evil
way (ver. 102); taught by the Author of that
word, the Lord himself, to grow wiser and
warier, and holier in the divine ways; and
then, ver. 103, he adds this other reason, How
sweet are thy words unto my taste 1 yea, sweet-
er than honey to my mouth.
We shall speak, I. Of the goodness or gra-
ciousness of the Lord ; II. Of this taste ; and
III. Of the inference from both.
I. The goodness of God: The Lord is gra-
cious ; or, of a bountiful, kind disposition.
The Hebrew word in Psal. xxxiv. 8, whence
this is taken, signifies good. The Septuagint
render it by the same word as is used hereby
our apostle. Both the words signify a benig-
nity and kindness of nature. It is given as
one of love's attributes, 1 Cor. xiii. 4, that it
is kind xons everal, ever compassionate, and help-
ful as it can be in straits and distresses, still
ready to forget and pass by evil, and to do
good. In the largest and most comprehen-
sive sense must we take the expression here,
and yet still we shall speak and think infinite-
ly below what his goodness is. He is natu-
rally good, yea, goodness is his nature; he is
goodness and love itself. He that loveth not,
knoweth not God ; for God is love, 1 John iv.
8. He is primitively good; all goodness is
derived from him, and all that is in the crea-
ture comes forth from no other than that
Ocean ; and his graciousness is still larger
than them all.
There is a common bounty of God, wherein
he doth good to all, and so the whole earth is
full of his goodness, Psal. xxxiii. 5. But the
goodness that the gospel is full of the par-
ticular stream that runs in that channeſ, is
his peculiar graciousness and love to his own
children, that by which they are first enli-
Vened, and then refreshed and sustained in
their spiritual being. It is this that is here
spoken of . He is gracious to them in freely
forgiving their sins, in giving no less than
himself unto them ; he frees them from all
evils, and fills them with all good. He satis-
fies thy mouth with good things, Psal. ciii.
3–5; and so it follows with good reason, ver.
8, that he is merciful and gracious ; and his
graciousness is there further expressed in his
gentleness and slowness to anger, his bear-
ing with the frailties of his own, and pity-
ing them as a father pitieth his children,
verse 13.
No friend is so kind and friendly (as this
word signifies), and none so powerful. He
is a present help in trouble, ready to be found:
whereas others may be far off, he is always
at hand, and his presence is always comfort-
able.
They that know God, still find him a real,
useful good. Some things and some persons
are useful at one time, and others at another,
but God at all times. A well-furnished ta-
ble may please a man while he hath health
and appetite, but offer it to him in the height
of a fever, how unpleasant would it be then
Though ever so richly decked, it is then not
only useless, but hateful to him : but the
kindness and love of God is then as seasona-
ble and refreshing to him, as in health, and
possibly more ; he can find sweetness in that,
even on his sick bed. The choler abounding
in the mouth, in a fever, doth not disrelish
this sweetness; it transcends and goes above
it. Thus all earthly enjoyments have but
some time (as meats) when they are in sea-
son, but the graciousness of God is always
sweet; the taste of that is never out of sea-
son. See how old age spoils the relish of
outward delights, in the example of Barzillai,
2 Sam. xix. 35; but it makes not this dis-
tasteful. Therefore the psalmist prays, that
when other comforts forsake him and wear
out, when they ebb from him and leave him
on the sand, this may not ; that still he may
feed on the goodness of God: Psal. lxxi. 9.
Cast me not off in old age, forsake me not
when my strength faileth. It is the contin-
ual influence of his graciousness that makes
them still grow like cedars in Lebanon, Psal.
xcii. 14, 15, that makes them bring forth
fruit in old age, and to be still fat and flour-
ishing ; to show that the Lord is upright, as
it is there added, that he is (as the word im-
ports) still like himself, and his goodness ever
the same.
Full chests or large possessions may seem
Sweet to a man, till death present itself; but
then (as the prophet speaks of throwing away
their idols of silver and gold to the bats and
moles, in the day of calamity, Isa. ii. 20)—
then, he is forced to throw away all he pos-
sesses, with disdain of it and of his former
folly in doating on it—then, the kindness of
friends, and wife, and children can do noth-
ing but increase his grief and their own—but
then is the love of God the good indeed and
abiding sweetness, and it best relisheth when
all other things are most unsavory and un-
comfortable. g
God is gracious, but it is God in Christ; oth-
erwise we can not find him so; therefore this
is here spoken in particular of Jesus Christ
(as it appears by that which followeth),
through whom all the peculiar kindness and
love of God is conveyed to the soul, for it can
come no other way; and the word here men-
tioned is the gospel (See ch. i.ver. ult.), where-
WER. 3. ]
133
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
of Christ is the subject. Though God is mercy
and goodness in himself, yet we can not find
or apprehend him so to us, but as we are
looking through that medium, the Mediator.
That main point of the goodness of God in
the gospel, which is so sweet to an humbled
sinner, the forgiveness of sins, we know we
can not taste of, but in Christ, In whom we
have redemption, Eph. i. 7. And all the favor
that shines on us, all the grace we receive, is
of his fulness ; all our acceptance with God,
our being taken into grace and kindness
again, is in him. He made us accepted in the
beloved (ver. 6). His grace appears in both,
as it is there expressed, but it is all in Christ.
Let us therefore never leave him out in our
desires of tasting the graciousness and love
of God: for otherwise, we shall but dishonor
him, and disappoint ourselves.
The free grace of God was given to be
tasted, in the promises, before the coming of
Christ in the flesh ; but being accomplished
in his coming, then was the Sweetness of
grace made more sensible ; then was it more
fully broached, and let out to the elect world,
when he was pierced on the cross, and his
blood poured out for our redemption. Through
those holes of his wounds may we draw, and
taste that the Lord is gracious, says St. Au-
gustine.
II. As to this taste: Ye have tasted.]. There
is a tasting exercised by temporary believers,
spoken of Heb. vi. 4. There highest sense
of spiritual things (and it will be in some far
higher than we easily think), yet is but a
taste, and is called so in comparison of the
truer, fuller sense that true believers have of
the grace and goodness of God, which, com-
pared with a temporary taste, is more than
tasting. The former is merely tasting; rather
an imaginary taste than real; but this is a
true feeding on the graciousness of God, yet
it is called but a taste in respect of the ful-
ness to come. Though it is more than a
taste, as distinguishable from the hypocrite's
sense, yet it is no more than a taste, compared
with the great marriage-feast we look for.
Jesus Christ being all in all unto the soul,
faith apprehending him, is all the spiritual
sense. Faith is the eye that beholds his
matchless beauty, and so kindles love in the
soul, and can speak of him as having seen
him and taken particular notice of him, Cant.
v. 9. It is the ear tha"discerns his voice,
Cant. ii. 8. It is faith that smells his name
poured forth as an ointment : faith that
touches him, and draws virtue from him ;
and faith that tastes him, Cant. ii. 3: and so
here, If ye have tasted.
In order to this there must be, 1. A firm
believing of the truth of the promises, where-
in the free grace of God is expressed and ex-
hibited to us. 2. A particular application or
attraction of that grace to ourselves, which is
the dawning of those breasts of consolation,
Isa. lxvi. 11, namely, the promises contained
in the Old and New Testaments. 3. A sense
of the sweetness of that grace, being applied
or drawn into the soul, and that constitutes
properly this taste. No unrenewed man hath
any of these in truth, not the highest kind of
temporary believer; he can not have so much
as a real lively assent to the general truth of
the promises; for had he that, the rest would
follow. But as he can not have the least of
these in truth, he may have the counterfeit
of them all ; not only of assent but of appli-
cation: yea, and a false spiritual joy arising
from it; and all these so drawn to the life,
that they may resemble much of the reality;
to give clear characters of difference is not so
easy as most persons imagine; but doubtless,
the true living faith of a Christian hath in it-
self such a particular stamp, as brings with it
its own evidence, when the soul is clear and
the light of God's face shines upon it. Indeed,
in the dark we can not read, nor distinguish
One mark from another; but when a Chris-
tian hath light to look upon the work of God
in his own soul, although he can not make
another sensible of that by which he knows
it, yet he himself is ascertained, and can say
confidently in himself, “This I know, that
this faith and taste of God I have is true : the
seal of the spirit of God is upon it;” and this
is the reading of that new name in the white
stone, which no man knows but he that hath it,
Rev. ii. 17. There is, in a true believer,
such a constant love to God for himself, and
such a continual desire after him simply for
his own excellency and goodness, as no other
can have. On the other side, would a hypo-
crite deal truly and impartially by himself he
would readily find out something that would
discover him, more or less, to himself. But
the truth is, men are willing to deceive them-
selves, and thence arises the difficulty. One
man can not make another sensible of the
sweetness of divine grace: he may speak to
him of it very excellently, but all he says in
that kind, is an unknown language to a natu-
ral man ; he heareth many good words, but
he can not tell what they mean. The natu-
ral man tastes not the things of God, for they
are spiritually discerned. 1 Cor. ii. 14.
A spiritual man himself doth not fully con-
ceive this sweetness that he tastes of; it is
an infinite goodness, and he hath but a taste
of it. The peace of God, which is a main
fruit of this his goodness, passeth all under-
standing, says the apostle, Phil. iv. 7: not
only all natural understanding (as some mod-
ify it), but all understanding, even the super-
natural understanding of those who enjoy it.
And as the godly man can not conceive it all,
so as to that which he conceives, he can not
express it all, and that which he doth express,
the carnal mind can not conceive of by his
expression. -
But he that hath indeed tasted of this good-
ness, O how tasteless are those things to him
that the world call sweet ! As when you
have tasted something that is very sweet, it
disrelishes other things after it. Therefore
134
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
can a Christian so easily either want, or use
with disregard the delights of this earth. His
heart is not upon them: for the delight that
he finds in God carrieth it unspeakably away
from all the rest, and makes them in compari-
son seem sapless to his taste.
Solomon tasted of all the delicacies, the
choicest dishes that are in such esteem among
men, and not only tasted, but ate largely of
them, and yet, see how he goes over them, to
let us know what they are, and passes, from
one dish to another. This also is vanity, and
of the next, This also is vanity, and so
through all, and of all in general, All is van-
ity and veration of spirit, or feeding on the
wind, as the word may be rendered.
III. We come in the third place to the in-
ference : If ye have tasted, &c., then lay
aside all malice and guile, and hypocrisies and
envies, and all evil speakings, ver. 1; for it
looks back to the whole exhortation. Surely,
if you have tasted of that kindness and sweet-
ness of God in Christ, it will compose your
spirits, and conform them to him ; it will dif-
fuse such a Sweetness through your soul, that
there will be no place for malice and guile;
there will be nothing but love, and meekness,
and singleness of heart. Therefore, they who
have bitter malicious spirits, evidence they
have not tasted of the love of God. As the
Lord is good, so they who taste of his good-
ness are made like him. Be ye kind one to
another, tender-hearted, forgiving one anoth-
er, even as God ſor Christ's sake, hath for-
given you, Eph. iv. 32.
Again, if ye have tasted, then desire more.
And this will be the truest sign of it: he that
is in a continual hunger and thirst after this
graciousness of God, has surely tasted of it.
My soul thirsteth for God, saith David, Psal.
xlii. 2. He had tasted before; he remem-
bers, ver, 4, that he went to the house of God,
with the voice of joy. º
This is that happy circle wherein the soul
of the believer moves: the more they love it,
the more they shall taste of this goodness;
and the more they taste, the more they shall
still love and desire it.
But observe, if ye have tasted that the Lord
is gracious, then, desire the milk of the word.
This is the sweetness of the word, that it
hath in it the Lord's graciousness gives us
the knowledge of his love. This they find in
it, who have spiritual life and senses, and
those senses exercised to discern good and
evil; and this engages a Christian to fur-
ther desire of the word. They are fantas-
tical deluding tastes, that draw men from
the written word, and make them expect
other revelations. This graciousness is first
conveyed to us by the word ; there first we
taste it, and therefore, there still we are to
seek it; to hang upon those breasts that can
not be drawn dry; there the love of God, in
Christ, streams forth in the several promises.
The heart that cleaves to the word of God,
and delights in it, can not but find in it, daily,
new tastes of his goodness; there it reads his
love, and by that stirs up its own to him, and
so grows and loves, every day more than the
former, and thus is tending from tastes to
fulness. It is but little we can receive here,
some drops of joy that enter into us; but
there we shall enter into joy, as vessels put
into a sea of happiness.
VER. 4. To whom, coming as unto a living stone, dis-
allowed indeed of men, but chosen of God, and
precious;
VER. 5. Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spir.
itual house, a holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual
sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ.
THE spring of all the dignities of a Chris-
tian, which is therefore the great motive
of all his duties, is, his near relation to Jesus
Christ. Thence it is, that the apostle makes
that the great subject of his doctrine, both to
represent to his distressed brethren their dig-
nity in that respect, and to press by it the
necessary duties he exhorts unto. Having
spoken of their spiritual life and growth in
him, under the resemblance of natural life,
he prosecutes it here by another comparison
very frequent in the scriptures, and therefore
makes use in it of some passages of these
Scriptures, that were prophetical of Christ
and his Church. Though there be here two
different similitudes, yet they have so near a
relation one to another, and meet so well in
the same subject, that he joins them together,
and then illustrates them severally in the fol-
lowing verses; a temple, and a priesthood,
comparing the saints to both : The former in
these words of this verse.
We have in it, 1. The nature of the build-
ing: 2. The materials of it: 3. The structure
or way of building it.
1. The nature of it is, a spiritual building.
Time and place, we know, received their
being from God, and he was eternally before
both: he is therefore styled by the prophet,
The high and lofty one that inhabiteth eter-
nity. Isaiah lvii. 15. But having made the
world, he fills it, though not as contained in
it, and so, the whole frame of it is his palace
or temple, but after a more special manner,
the higher and statelier part of it, the highest
heaven; therefore it is called his holy place
and the habitation of his holiness and glory.
And on earth, the houses of his public wor-
ship are called his houses ; especially the
Jewish temple in its time, having in it such a
relative typical holiness, which others have
not. But besides all these, and beyond them
all in excellency, he hath a house wherein he
dwells more peculiarly than in any of the rest,
even more than in heaven, taken for the place
only, and that is this spiritual building. And
this is most suitable to the nature of God. As
our Savior says of the necessary conformity
of his worship to himself, God is a spirit, and
therefore will be worshipped in spirit and in
truth, John iv. 24; so it holds of his house;
he must have a spiritual one, because he is a
spirit; so God’s temple is his people.
VER. 4, 5.]
135
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
And for this purpose chiefly did he make
the world, the heaven, and the earth, that in
it he might raise this spiritual building for
himself to dwell in for ever, to have a num-
ber of his reasonable creatures to enjoy him,
and glorify him in eternity. And from that
eternity he knew what the dimensions, and
frame, and materials of it should be. The
continuance of this present world, as now it
is, is but for the service of this work, like
the scaffolding about it; and therefore, when
this spiritual building shall be fully comple-
ted, all the present frame of things in the
world, and in the church itself, shall be taken
away and appear no more.
This building is, as the particular designa-
tion of its materials will teach us, the whole
invisible church of God, and each good man
is a stone of this building. But as the nature
of it is spiritual, it hath this privilege (as
they speak of the soul), that it is tota in toto,
et tota in qualibet parte : the whole Church
is the spouse of Christ, and each believing
soul hath the same title and dignity to be
called so : thus each of these stones is called
a whole temple, temples of the Holy Ghost,
1 Cor. vi.19; though, taking the temple or
building in a completer sense, they are but
each one a part, or a stone of it, as here it is
expressed.
The whole excellency of this building is
comprised in this, that it is spiritual, a term
distinguishing it from all other buildings, and
preferring it above them. And inasmuch as
the apostle speaks immediately after of a
priesthood and sacrifices, it seems to be called
a spiritual building, particularly in opposi-
tion to that material temple wherein the
Jews gloried, which was now null, in regard
of its former use, and was quickly after en-
tirely destroyed. But while it stood, and the
legal use of it stood in its fullest vigor, yet,
in this respect, still it was inferior, that it
was not a spiritual house, made up of living
stones, as this, but of a like matter with other
earthly buildings.
This spiritual house is the palace of the
Great King, or his temple. The Hebrew
word, for palace and temple is one. God's
temple is a palace, and therefore must be full
of the richest beauty and magnificence, but
such as agrees with the nature of it, a spiritual
beauty. In that psalm that wishes so many
prosperities, one is, that their daughters may
be as corner-stones, polished after the simili-
tude of a palace, Psal. cxliv. 12. This is the
church ; she is called the king's daughter,
Psal. xlv. 13 ; but her comeliness is invisible
to the world, she is all glorious within.
Through sorrows and persecutions, she may
be smoky and black to the world’s eye, as
the tents of Kedar; but in regard of spiritual
beauty, she is comely as the curtains of Solo-
anon. And in this the Jewish temple resem-
bles it aright, whlch had most of its riches
and beauty in the inside. Holiness is the
gold of this spiritual house, and it is inwardly
enriched with that. - --
The glory of the church of God consists
not in stately buildings of temples, and rich
furniture, and pompous ceremonies: these
agree not with its spiritual nature. Its true
and genuine beauty is, to grow in spirituality,
and so to be liker itself, and to have more of
the presence of God, and his glory filling it
as a cloud. And it hath been observed, that
the more the church grew in outward riches
and state, the less she grew, or rather the
more sensibly she abated in spiritual excel-
lences. But the spiritualness of this build-
ing will better appear in considering partic-
ularly,
2dly. The materials of it, as here express-
ed: To whom coming, &c., ye also, as lively
stones, are, &c. Now the whole building is
Christ mystical, Christ together with the en-
tire body of the elect: he as the foundation,
and they as the stones built upon him; he,
the living stone, and they likewise, by union
with him, living stones; he, having life in
himself, as he speaks, John vi., and they de-
riving it from him; he, primitively living,
and they, by participation. For therefore is
he called here a living stone, not only be-
cause of his immortality and glorious resur-
rection, being a lamb that was slain, and is
alive again for ever, but because he is the
principle of spiritual and eternal life unto us,
a living foundation that transfuses this life
into the whole building, and every stone of
it, In whom (says the apostle, Ephes. ii. 21)
all the building is ſº..."; together. It
is the spirit that flows from him which enli-
yensit, and knits it together, as a living body;
for the same word awaopoxoyoſusvov is used, ch.
iv. 16, for the church under the similitude of
a body. When it is said, ch. ii. 20, to be
built upon the foundation of the prophets
and apostles, it only refers to their doctrine
concerning Christ; and therefore it is added,
that he, as being the subject of their doctrine,
is the chief corner-stone. The foundation,
then, of the church, lies not in Rome, but in
heaven, and therefore is out of the reach of
all enemies, and above the power of the gates
of hell. Fear not, then, when you see the
storms arise, and the winds blow against this
spiritual building, for it shall stand ; it is
built upon an invisible, immoveable rock,
and that great Babylon, Rome itself, that,
under the false title and pretence of support-
ing this building, is working to overthrow 1t,
shall be utterly overthrown, and laid equal
with the ground, and never be rebuilt again.
But this foundation-stone, as it is com:
mended by its quality, that it is a living and
enlivening stone, having life and giving life
to those that are built on it, so it is also fur-
ther described by God's choosing it, and by
its own worth ; in both opposed to men's
disesteem, and therefore it is said here, to be
chosen of God and precious. God did in-
136
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
deed from eternity contrive this building, and
choose this same foundation, and accordingly,
in the fulness of time, did perform his pur-
pose ; so the thing being one, we may take it
either for his purpose, or the performance of
it, or both ; yet it seems most suitable to the
strain of the words, and to the place after
alleged, in respect to laying him in Sion in
opposition to the rejection of men, that we
take it for God’s actual employing of Jesus
Christ in the work of our redemption. He
alone was fit for that work; it was utterly
impossible that any other should bear the
weight of that service (and so of this build-
ing), than he who was almighty. Therefore
the spouse calls him the select, or choice of
ten thousand, yet he was rejected of men.
There is an antipathy (if we may so speak),
betwixt the mind of God and corrupt nature;
the things that are highly esteemed with
men, are abomination to God ; and thus we
see here, that which is highly esteemed with
God, is cast out and disallowed by men. But
surely there is no comparison ; the choosing
and esteem of God stands; and by that (judge
men of Christ as they will), he is the founda-
tion of this building. And he is in true value
answerable to this esteem; he is precious,
which seems to signify a kind of inward
worth, hidden from the eyes of men, blind
unbelieving men, but well known to God,
and to those to whom he reveals him. And
this is the very cause of his rejection by the
most, the ignorance of his worth and excel-
lency; as a precious stone that the skilful
lapidary esteems of great value, an ignorant
beholder makes little or no account of.
These things hold likewise in the other
stones of this building ; they, too, are chosen
before time; all that should be of this build-
ing, foreordained in God’s purpose, all writ-
ten in that book beforehand, and then, in due
time, they are chosen, by actual calling, ac-
cording to that purpose, hewed out and sev-
ered by God's own hand, out of the quarry
of corrupt nature; dead stones in themselves,
as the rest, but made living by his bringing
them to Christ, and so made truly precious,
and accounted precious by him who hath
made them so. All the stones in this build-
.ing are called God’s jewels, Mal. iii. 17.
Though they be vilified and scoffed at, and
despised by men, though they pass for fools
and the refuse of the world, yet they may
easily digest all that, in the comfort of this,
if they are chosen of God, and precious in his
eyes. This is the very lot of Christ, and
therefore by that the more welcome, that it
conforms them to him—suits these stones to
their foundation.
And if we consider it aright, what a poor
despicable thing is the esteem of men . How
soon is it past ! It is a small thing for me,
says the Apostle Paul, to be judged of men,
1 Cor. iv. 3. Now that God often chooses for
this building such stones as men cast away
as good for nothing, see 1 Cor. i. 26. And
where he says, Isa. lvii. 15, that he dwells in
the high and holy place, what is his other
dwelling 3 His habitation on earth, is it in
great palaces and courts 3 No; but with him
also that is of a contrite and humble spirit.
Now, these are the basest in men's account :
yet he chooses them, and prefers them to all
other palaces and temples. Isa. lxvi. 1, 2.
Thus saith the Lord, The heaven is my
throne, and the earth is my footstool: Where
is the house that ye build unto me 2 and
where is the place of my rest ? For all those
things hath mine hand made, and all those
things have been, saith the Lord : But to this
man will I look, even to him that is poor, and
of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my
word. q; d. You can not gratify me with
any dwelling, for I myself have made all, and
a surer house than any you can make me;
The heaven, is my throne, and the earth my
footstool ; but I, who am so high, am pleased
to regard the lowly.
3dly. We have the structure, or way of
building. To whom coming.] First, coming,
then, built up. They that come unto Christ,
come not only from the world that lieth in
wickedness, but out of themselves. Of a
great many that seem to come to Christ, it
may be said, that they are not come to him,
because they have not left themselves. This
is believing on him, which is the very re-
signing of the soul to Christ, and living by
him. Ye will not come unto me that ye may
have life, says Christ, John v. 40. He com-
plains of it as a wrong done to him ; but the
loss it ours. It is his glory to give us life
who were dead; but it is our happiness to
receive that life from him. Now these stones
come unto their foundation ; which imports
the moving of the soul to Christ, being moved
by his spirit, and that the will acts, and wil-
lingly (for it can not act otherwise), but still
as being actuated and drawn by the Father:
John vi. 65. No man can come to me earcept
the Father draw him. And the outward
mean of drawing is by the word; it is the
sound of that harp that brings the stones of
this spiritual building together. And then,
being united to Christ, they are built up ;
that is, as St. Paul expresses it, Ephes. ii. 21,
they grow up unto a holy temple in the Lord.
In times of peace, the church may dilate
more, and build as it were into breadth, but
in times of trouble, it arises more in height;
it is then built upward: as in cities where
men are straightened, they build usually
higher than in the country. Notwithstand-
ing the church's afflictions, yet still the build-
ing is going forward; it is built, as Daniel
speaks of Jerusalem, in troublous times.
And it is this which the apostle intends, as
suiting with his foregoing exhortation: this
passage may be read exhortatively, too; but
taking it rather as asserting their condition,
it is for this end, that they may remember to
be like it, and grow up. For this end he ex-
pressly calls them living stones ; an adjunct
WER. 4, 5.]
137
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
root not usual for stones, but here insepa-
rable ; and therefore, though the apostle
changes the similitude, from infants to stones,
yet he will not let go this quality of living,
as making chiefly for his purpose.
To teach us the necessity of growth in be-
lievers, they are therefore often compared to
things that grow, to trees planted in fruitful
growing places, as by the rivers of water ;
to cedars in Lebanon, where they are tall-
est; to the morning light, to infants on the
breast; and here, where the word seems
to refuse it, to stones; yet (it must, and well
doth admit this unwonted epithet) they are
called living and growing stones.
If, then, you would have the comfortable
persuasion of this union with Christ, see
whether you find your souls established upon
Jesus Christ, finding him as your strong foun-
dation; not resting on yourselves, nor on any
other thing either within you, or without you,
but supported by him alone; drawing life
from him, by virtue of that union, as from a
living foundation, so as to say with the apos-
tle, I live by faith in the Son of God, who
loved me, and gave himself for me. Gal. ii. 20.
As these stones are built on Christ by faith,
so they are cemented one to another by love;
and, therefore, where that is not, it is but a
delusion for persons to think themselves parts
of this building. As it is knit to him, it is
knit together in itself through him; and if
dead stones in a building support and mu-
tually strengthen one another, how much
more ought living stones in an active,
lively way so to do | The stones of this
building keep their place: the lower rise not
up to be in the place of the higher. As the
apostle speaks of the parts of the body, so the
stones of this building in humility and love
keep their station, and grow up in it, edifying
in love, saith the apostle, Eph. iv. 16; import-
ing, that the want of this much prejudices
edification.
These stones, because they are living, there-
fore grow in the life of grace and spiritual-
ness, being a spiritual building ; so that if
we find not this, but our hearts are still car-
nal, and glued to the earth, minding earthly
things, wiser in those than in spirituals, this
evidences strongly against us, that we are
not of this building. How few of us have
that spiritualness that becomes the temples
of the Holy Ghost, or the stones of that build-
ing ! Base lusts are still lodging and ruling
within us, and so our hearts are as cages of
unclean birds and filthy spirits.
Consider this as your happiness, to form
part of this building, and consider the unsol-
idness of other comforts and privileges. If
Some have called those stones happy, that
were taken for the building of temples or al-
tars, beyond those in common houses, how
true is it here ! Happy indeed the stones
that God chooses to be living stones in this
Spiritual temple, though they be hammered
and hewed to be polished for it, by afflictions
and the inward work of mortification and re-
pentance. It is worth the enduring of all, to
be fitted for this building. Happy they, be-
yond all the rest of men, though they be set
in never so great honors, as prime parts of
politic buildings (states and kingdoms), in
the courts of kings, yea, or kings themselves.
For all other buildings, and all the parts of
them shall be demolished and come to noth-
ing, from the foundation to the cope-stone ;
all your houses, both cottages and palaces:
the elements shall melt away, and the earth,
with all the works in it, shall be consumed, as
our apostle hath it (2 Pet. iii.,10). But this
spiritual building shall grow up to heaven;
and being come to perfection, shall abide for
ever in perfection of beauty and glory. In it
shall be found no unclean thing, nor unclean
person, but only they that are written in the
Lamb’s book of life.
A holy priesthood.] For the worship and
ceremonies of the Jewish church were all
shadows of Jesus Christ, and have their ac-
complishment in him, not only after a singu-
lar manner in his own person, but in a de-
rived way, in his mystical body, his church.
The priesthood of the law represented him
as the great High Priest that offered up him-
self for our sins, and that is a priesthood al-
together incommunicable ; neither is there
any peculiar office of priesthood for offering
sacrifice in the Christian church, but his
alone who is head of it. But this dignity
that is here mentioned, of a spiritual priest-
hood, offering up spiritual sacrifices, is com-
mon to all those who are in Christ. As they
are living stones built on him into a spiritual
temple, so, they are priests of that same tem-
ple made by him. (Rev. i. 6.) As he was,
after a transcendent manner, temple, and
priest, and sacrifice, so, in their kind, are
Christians all these three through him ; and
by his Spirit that is in them, their offerings
through him are made acceptable.
We have here, 1. The office ; 2. The ser-
vice of that office; 3. The success of that
service.
1. The office. The death of Jesus Christ,
as being every way powerful for reconcile-
ment and union, did not only break down the
partition-wall of guiltiness that stood between
God and man, but the wall of ceremonies that
stood between the Jews and the Gentiles: it
made all that believe, one with God, and made
of both one, as the apostle speaks—united them
one to another. The way of salvation was
made known, not to one nation only, but to
all people: so that whereas the knowledge of
God was before confined to one little corner,
it is now diffused through the nations ; and
whereas the dignity of their priesthood stayed
in a few persons, all they who believe are
now thus dignified to be priests unto God the
Father. And this was signified by the rend-
ing of the veil of the temple at his death; not
only that those ceremonies and sacrifices were
to cease, as being all fulfilled in him, but that
18
138
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
the people of God, who were before by that
Veil held out in the outer court, were to be
admitted into the Holy Place, as being all of
them priests, and fitted to offer sacrifices.
The priesthood of the law was holy, and
its holiness was signified by many outward
things suitable to their manner, by anointings,
and washings, and vestments ; but in this spir-
itual priesthood of the gospel, holiness itself
is instead of all those, as being the substance
of all. The children of God are all anointed,
and purified, and clothed with holiness. But
then,
2. There is here the service of this office,
namely, to offer. There is no priesthood
without sacrifice, for these terms are correla-
tive, and offering sacrifices was the chief em-
ployment of the legal priests. Now, because
the priesthood here spoken of is altogether
spiritual, therefore the sacrifices must be so
too, as the apostle here expresses it.
We are saved the pains and cost of bring-
ing bullocks and rams, and other such sacri-
fices; and these are in their stead. As the
apostle speaks (Heb. vii. 12) of the high
priesthood of Christ, that the priesthood being
changed, there followed of necessity a change
of the law , so, in this priesthood of Chris-
tians, there is a change of the kind of sacri-
fice from the other. All sacrifice is not taken
away, but it is changed from the offering of
those things formerly in use to spiritual sac-
rifices.
Now these are every way preferable; they
are easier and cheaper to us, and yet more
precious and acceptable to God: as it follows
here in the text. Even in the time when the
other sacrifices were in request, these spiritu-
al offerings had ever the precedence in God's
account, and without them he hated and de-
spised all burnt-offerings and the largest sac-
rifices, though they were then according to
his own appointment. How much more
should we abound in spiritual sacrifice, who
are eased of the other How much more
holds that answer now, that was given even
in those times to the inquiry, Wherewith shall
I come before the Lord 2 &c. (Mic. vi. 6.) You
need not all that trouble and expense, thou-
sands of rams, &c. : that is at hand which
God requires most of all, namely, to do justly,
and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with
thy God. So, Psalm 1. 23: Whoso offereth
praise, glorifieth me. That which is peculi-
arly spoken of Christ, holds in Christians by
conformity with him.
. But though the spiritual sacrificing is ea-
sier in its own nature, yet, to the corrupt na-
ture of man, it is by far the harder. He would
rather choose still all the toil and cost of the
former way, if it were in his option. This
was the sin of the Jews in those times, that
they leaned the soul upon the body's service
too much, and would have done enough of
that, to be dispensed from this spiritual ser-
vice. Hence are the Lord’s frequent reproofs
and complaints of this, Psalm l., Isai. i., &c.
Hence the willingness in popery for outwara
work, for penances and satisfactions of bod-
ies and purses—anything of that kind, if it
might serve, rather than the inward work of
repentance and mortification, the spiritual
service and sacrifices of the soul. But the
answer to all those from God, is that of the
prophet: Who hath required these things at
Jour hands 2
Indeed, the sacred writers press works of
charity, if they be done with a right hand,
and the left hand not so much as acquainted
with the business, as our Savior speaks, Let
not thy left hand know what thy right hand
doth. (Matt. vi. 3.) They must be done with a
right and single intention, and from a right
principle moving to them, without any vain
opinion of meriting by them with God, or
any vain desire of gaining applause with
men, but merely out of love to God, and to
man for his sake. Thus they become one of
these spiritual sacrifices, and therefore ought
by no means to be neglected by Christian
priests, that is, by any who are Christians.
Another spiritual sacrifice is, the prayers of
the saints : Rev. v. 8; Psal. cxli. 2. Let my
prayer be set forth before thee as incense, and
the lifting up of my hands as the evening sac-
rifice. It is not the composition of prayer, or
the eloquence of expression, that is the sweet-
ness of it in God’s account, and makes it a
sacrifice of a pleasing smell or sweet odor to
him, but the breathing forth of the desire of
the heart; that is what makes it a spiritual
sacrifice; otherwise, it is as carnal, and dead,
and worthless in God’s account, as the car-
casses of beasts. Incense can neither smell
nor ascend without fire; no more doth prayer,
unless it arises from a bent of spiritual affec-
tion ; it is that which both makes it smell,
and sends it heavenward, makes it never
leave moving upward till it come before God,
and smell sweet in his nostrils, which few,
too few, of our prayers do.
Praise also is a sacrifice ; to make respect-
ful and honorable mention of the name of
God, and of his goodness; to bless him hum-
bly and heartily. See Heb. xiii. 15, and Ps.
l. 14, 23. Offer unto God thanksgiving. Who-
so offereth praise, glorifieth me. And this is
that sacrifice that shall never end, but con-
tinues in heaven to eternity.
Then, a holy course of life is called the sac-
ºrifice of righteousness, Psal. iv. 6, and Phil.
iv. 18. So also Heb. xiii. 16, where the apos-
tle shows what sacrifices succeed to those
which, as he hath taught at large, are abol-
ished. Christ was sacrificed for us, and that
offering alone was powerful to take away sin;
but our gratulatory sacrifices, praise and alms,
are as incense burnt to God, of which as the
standers-by find the sweet smell, so, the holy
life of Christians smells sweet to those with
whom they live. But the wicked, as putre-
fied carcasses, are of a noisome smell to God
and man. They are corrupt : they have done
abominable works. Psal. xiv. 4.
WER. 4, 5.]
139
TIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
In a word, that sacrifice of ours which in-
cludes all these, and without which none of
these can be rightly offered, is Ourselves, our
whole selves. Our bodies are to be presented
a living sacrifice, Rom. xii. 1; and they are
not that without our souls. It is our #:
given, that gives all the rest, for that com-
mands all. My son, give me thy heart, and
then the other willfölfow; thine eyes will de-
light in my ways. This makes the eyes, ears,
tongue, and hands, and all, to be holy, as
God’s peculiar property; and being once
given and consecrated to him, it becomes sac-
rilege to turn them to any unholy use. This
makes a man delight to hear and speak of
things that concern God, and to think on him
frequently, to be holy in his secret thoughts,
and in all his ways. In everything we bring
him, every thanksgiving and prayer we offer,
his eye is upon the heart: he looks iſ it be
along with our offering, and if he miss it, he
cares not for all the rest, but throws it back
again.
The heart must be offered withal, and the
whole heart, all of it entirely given to him.
Se totum obtulit Christus pro nobis: Christ
offered up his whole self for us. In another
sense, which crosses not this, thy heart must
not be whole, but broken. Psal. li. 17. But if
thou find it unbroken, yet give it him, with a
desire that it may be broken. And if it be
broken, and if, when thou hast given it him,
he break it more, yea, and melt it too, yet
thou shalt not repent thy gift ; for he breaks
and melts it, that he may refine it, and make
it up a new and excellent frame, and may
impress his own image on it, and make it
holy, and so like to himself.
Let us then give him ourselves, or nothing;
and to give ourselves to him, is not his ad-
vantage, but ours. As the philosopher said
to his poor scholar, who, when others gave
him great gifts, told him, He had nothing but
himself to give : It is well, said he, and I
will endeavor to give thee back to thyself, bet-
ter than I received thee; thus doth God with
us, and thus doth a Christian make himself
his daily sacrifice : he renews this gift of
himself every day to God, and receiving it
every day bettered again, still he hath the
more delight in giving it as being fitter for
God, the more it is sanctified by former sac-
rificing.
Now that whereby we offer all other spir-
itual sacrifices, and even ourselves, is love.
That is the holy fire that burns up all, sends
up our prayers, and our hearts, and our
whole selves a whole burnt-offering to God;
and, as the fire of the altar, it is originally
from Heaven, being kindled by God's own
love to us; and by this the church (and so
each believer) ascends like a straight pillar
of smoke (as the word is, Cant. iii. 6), going
even up to God perfumed with aloes and all
the spices, all the graces of the Spirit received
from Christ, but above all, with his own
merits.
How far from this are the common multi-
tude of us, though professing to be Chris-
tians ! Who considers his holy calling 2 As
the peculiar holiness of the ministry should
be much in their eye and thoughts who are
called to it, as they should study to be answer-
ably eminent in holiness, so, all you that are
Christians, consider, you are priests unto God:
being called a holy priesthood, thus you ought
to be. But if we speak what we are indeed,
we must say rather, we are an unholy priest-
hood, a shame to that name and holy profes-
sion. Instead of the sacrifice of a godly life,
and the incense of prayer and praise, in fam-
ilies and alone, what is there with many, but
the filthy vapors of profane speaking and a
profane life, as a noisome smell arising out
of a dunghill 7
But you that have once offered up your-
selves unto God, and are still doing so with
all the services you can reach, continue to
do so, and be assured, that how unworthy
soever yourselves and all your offerings be,
yet they shall not be rejected.
The 3d thing here observable is, the suc-
cess of that service: Acceptable to God by
Jesus Christ, Heb. xiii. 16. The children of
God do delight in offering sacrifices to him ;
but if they might not know that they were
well taken at their hands, this would dis-
courage them much ; therefore this is added.
How often do the godly find it in their sweet
experience, that when they come to pray, he
welcomes them, and gives them such evi-
dences of his love, as they would not ex-
change for all worldly pleasures And when
this doth not so presently appear at other
times, yet they ought to believe it. He ac-
cepts themselves and their ways when offered
in sincerity, though never so mean: though
they sometimes have no more than a sigh or
a groan, it is most properly a spiritual sac-
rifice.
Stay not away because thou, and the gifts
thou offerest, are inferior to the offering of
others. No, none are excluded for that ; only
give what thou hast, and act with affection,
for that he regards most. Under the law,
they who had not a lamb, were welcome
with a pair of pigeons. So that the Chris-
tian may say: What I am, Lord, I offer my-
self unto thee, to be wholly thine ; and had I
a thousand times more of outward or inward
gifts, all should be thine ; had I a greater
estate, or wit, or learning, or power, I would
endeavor to serve thee with all. What I
have, I offer thee, and it is most truly thine ;
it is but of thy own that I give thee. No
one needs forbear sacrifice for poverty, for
what God desires, is, the heart, and there is
none so poor, but hath a heart to give him.
But meanness is not all; there is guiltiness
on ourselves and on all we offer; our prayers
and services are polluted. But this hinders
not neither ; for our acceptance is not for
ourselves, but for the sake of one who hath
no guiltiness at all : Acceptable by Jesus
140
[CHAP. Il.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
Christ. In him, our persons are clothed
with righteousness, and in his clothing, we
are, as Isaac said of Jacob in his brother's
garments, as the smell of a field that the Lord
hath blessed, Gen. xxvii. 27. And all our
other sacrifices, our prayers, and services, if
we offer them by him, and put them into his
hand, to offer to the Father, then doubt not
they will be accepted in him; for this by Je-
sus Christ, is relative both to our offering and
our acceptance. We ought not to offer any-
thing but by him, Heb. xiii. 15; and so, we
are well-pleasing to the Father. For he is
his well-beloved Son, in whom his soul is de-
lighted; not only delighted and pleased with
himself but in him, with all things and per-
sons that appear in him, and are presented
by him. º
And this alone answers all our doubts.
For we ourselves, as little as we see that
way, yet may see so much in our best ser-
vices, so many wanderings in prayer, so much
deadness, &c., as would make us still doubt-
ful of acceptance so that we might say with
Job, Although he had answered me, Ayet would
I not believe that he had hearkened to me :
were it not for this, that our prayers and all
our sacrifices pass through Christ's hand. He
is that angel that hath much sweet odors, to
mingle with the prayers of the saints. Rev.
viii. 3, 4. He purifies them with his own
merits and intercession, and so makes them
pleasing unto the Father. How ought our
hearts to be knit to him, by whom we are
brought into favor with God, and kept in fa-
vor with him, in whom we obtain all the
good we receive, and in whom all we offer is
accepted In him are all our supplies of
grace, and Our hopes of glory.
VER. 6. Wherefore also it is contained in the Scrip-
ture; Behold I lay in Sion a chief corner-stone,
elect, precious : and he that believeth on him shall
not be confounded.
THAT which is the chief of the works of
God, is therefore very reasonably the chief
subject of his word, as both most excellent
in itself, and of most concernment for us to
know ; and this is, the Saving of lost man-
kind by his Son. Therefore is his name
as precious ointment, or perfume, diffused
through the whole Scripture; all these holy
leaves smell of it, not only those that were
written after his coming, but those that were
written before. Search the Scriptures, says
he himself, for they testify of me (John v.
39), namely, the scriptures of the Old Testa-
ment, which were alone then written ; and
to evidence this, both himself and his apos-
tles make so frequent use of their testimony,
and we find so much of them inserted into
the New, as being both one in substance;
their lines meeting in the same Jesus Christ
as their centre.
The apostle having, in the foregoing verse,
expressed the happy estate and dignity of
Christians under the double notion, 1, of a
spiritual house or temple; 2, of a spiritual
priesthood—here amplifies and confirms both
from the writings of the prophets; the for-
mer, verses 6, 7, 8 ; the latter, verse 9. The
places that he cites touching this building,
are most pertinent, for they have clearly in
them all that he spoke of it, both concerning
the foundation and the edifice; as the first,
in these words of Isaiah (chap. xxviii. 16),
Behold I lay in Sion a ºg corner-stone, &c.
Let this commend the Scriptures much to
our diligence and affection, that their great
theme is, our Redeemer, and redemption
wrought by him; that they contain the doc-
trine of his excellences—are the lively pic-
ture of his matchless beauty. Were we
more in them, we should daily see more of
him in them, and so of necessity love him
more. But we must look within them : the
letter is but the case; the spiritual sense is
what we should desire to see. We usually
huddle them over, and see no further than
their outside, and therefore find so little sweet-
ness in them: we read them, but we search
them not, as he requires. Would we dig
into those golden mines, we should find trea-
sures of comfort that can not be spent, but
which would furnish us in the hardest times.
The prophecy here cited, if we look upon
it in its own place, we shall find inserted in
the middle of a very sad denunciation of judg-
ment again the Jews. And this is usual with
the prophets, particularly with this evangeli-
cal prophet Isaiah, to uphold the spirits of the
godly, in the worst times, with this one great
consolation, the promise of the Messiah, as
weighing down all, alike temporal distresses
and deliverances. Hence are those sudden
ascents (so frequent in the prophets) from
their present subject to this great hope of
Israel. And if this expectation of a Savior
was so pertinent a comfort in all estates, so
many ages before the accomplishment of it,
how wrongfully do we undervalue it being
accomplished, if we can not live upon it, and
answer all with it, and sweeten all our griefs,
with this advantage, that there is a founda-
tion-stone laid in Sion, on which they that
are builded shall be sure not to be ashamed !
In these words there are five things, 1. This
foundation-stone ; 2. The laying of it ; 3. The
building on it; 4. The firmness of this buil-
ding ; And 5. The greatness and excellency
of the work.
1st, For the foundation, called here, a .
corner-stone. Though the prophet's words
are not precisely rendered, yet the substance
and sense of them are the same. In Isaiah,
both expressions, a foundation and a corner-
stone, are employed (chap. xxviii. 16), the
corner-stone in the foundation being the main
support of the building, and throughout, the
corner-stones uniting and knitting the build-
ing together ; and therefore the same word,
a corner, is frequently taken in Scripture for
princes, or heads of people (see Judg. xx. 2;
i Sam. xiv. 38), because good governers and
WER. 6...]
141
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
government are that which upholds and unites
the societies of people in states or kingdoms
as one building. And Jesus Christ is indeed
the alone head and king of his church, who
gives it laws, and rules it in wisdom and
righteousness; the alone rock on which his
church is built; not Peter (if we will believe
St. Peter himself, as here he teacheth us),
much less his pretended successors; He is
the foundation and corner-stone that knits
together the walls of Jews and Gentiles,
having made of both one, as St. Paul speaks
(Eph. ii. 14), and unites the whole number
of believers into one everlasting temple, and
bears the weight of the whole fabric.
Elected] or chosen out for the purpose, and
altogether fit for it. Isaiah hath it, A stone
of trial, or a tried stone, as things among
men are best chosen after trial. So, Jesus
Christ was certainly known by the Father,
as most fit for that work to which he chose
him before he tried him, as after, upon trial
in his life, and death, and resurrection, he
proved fully answerable to his Father's pur-
pose, in all that was appointed him.
All the strength of angels combined, had
not sufficed for that business; but the wise
architect of this building knew both what it
would cost, and what a foundation was need-
ful to bear so great and so lasting a structure
as he intended. Sin having defaced and
demolished the first building of man in the
integrity of his creation, it was God's design,
Out of the very ruins of fallen man, to raise a
more lasting edifice than the former, one that
should not be subject to decay, and therefore
he fitted for it a foundation that might be
everlasting. The sure founding is the main
thing requisite in order to a lasting building;
therefore, that it might stand for the true
honor of his majesty (which Nebuchadnez-
zar vainly boasted of his Babel), he chose
his own Son, made flesh. He was God, that
he might be a strong foundation; he was
man, that he might be suitable to the nature
of the stones whereof the building was to
consist, that they might join the cement to-
gether.
ɺl Inestimably precious, by all the
conditions that can give worth to any; by
rareness, and by inward excellency, and by
useful virtues. Rare he is, out of doubt;
there is not such a person in the world again;
therefore he is called by the same prophet
(lsa. ix. 6), wonderful, full of wonders:—the
power of God and the frailty of man dwelling
together in his person; the ancient of days
becoming an infant; he that stretched forth
the heavens, bound up in swaddling clothes
in that his infancy, and in his full age stretch-
ed forth on the cross; altogether spotless and
innocent, and yet suffering not only the un-
just cruelties of men, but the just wrath of
God his Father; the Lord of life, and yet
dying ; his eacellency appears in the same
things, in that he is the Lord of life, God
ôlessed for ever, equal with the Father: the
sparkling brightness of this precious stone is
no less than this, that he is the brightness of
the Father's glory (Heb. i. 3); so bright, that
men could not have beheld him appearing in
himself; therefore he veiled it with our flesh ;
and yet, through that it shined and sparkled
so, that the Apostle St. John says of himself
and of those others who had their eyes open-
ed, and looked right upon him, he dwelt
among ws, and he had a tent like ours, and
yet, through that we saw his glory, as the
glory of the only begotten Son of God, full
of grace and truth (John i. 14), the Deity
filling his human nature with all manner of
grace in its highest perfection. And Christ
is not only thus excellent in himself, but of
precious virtue, which he lets forth and im-
parts to others; of such virtue, that a touch
of him is the only cure of spiritual diseases.
Men tell of strange virtues of some stones;
but it is certain that this precious stone hath
not only virtue to heal the sick, but even to
raise the dead. Dead bodies he raised in the
days of his abode on earth, and dead souls he
still doth raise by the power of his word. The
prophet Malachi calls him the Sun of Righte-
ousness (ch. iv. 2), which includes in it the
rareness and excellency we speak of: he is
singular ; as there is but one Sun in the world,
so but one Savior: and his lustre is such a
stone as outshines the sum in its fullest bright-
ness. And then, for his useful virtue, the
Prophet adds, that he hath healing under his
wings. This his worth is unspeakable, and
remains infinitely beyond all these resem-
blances.
2dly, There is here the laying of this foun-
dation : it is said to be laid in Sion ; that is,
it is laid in the church of God. And it was
first laid in Sion, literally, that being then
the seat of the church and of the true religion :
he was laid there, in his manifestation in the
flesh, and suffering and dying, and rising
again; and afterward, being preached through
the world, he became the foundation of his
church in all places where his name was re-
ceived; and so was a stone growing great,
till it filled the whole earth, as Daniel hath it,
ch. ii. 35.
He saith, I lay; by which the Lord ex-
presseth this to § his own proper work, as
the psalmist speaks of the same subject (Psal.
cxviii. 23). This is the Lord's doing ; and
it is marvellous in our eyes. So Isaiah, speak-
ing of this promised Messiah, The zeal of
the Lord of Hosts will perform this, ch. ix. 7.
And it is not only said, I lay; because God
the Father had the first thought of this great
work—the model of it was in his mind from
eternity, and the accomplishment of it was
by his almighty power in the morning of his
his Son's birth, and his life, and death, and
resurrection; but also to signify the freeness
of his grace, in giving his Son to be a founda-
tion of happiness to man, without the least
motion from man, or motive in man to draw
him to it. And this seems to be signified by
142
LCHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
the unexpected inserting of these prophetical
promises of the Messiah, in the midst of com-
plaints of the people's wickedness, and threat-
ening them with punishment; to intimate
that there is no connexion between this work
and anything on man's part to procure it: g. d.
Although you do thus provoke me to destroy
you, yet, of myself I have other thoughts,
there is another purpose in my mind. And
it is observable to this purpose, that that
clearest promise of the virgin's Son is given,
not only unrequired, but being refused by
that profane king Ahaz, Isa. vii. 10–13.
This, again, that the Lord himself is the
layer of this corner-stone, teaches us the firm-
ness of it; which is likewise expressed in
the prophet's words, very emphatically, by
redoubling the same word, Musad, Musad :
fundamentum, fundamentum.
So, Psal. ii. 6, I have set my king upon my
holy hill of Sion :-who then shall dethrone
him 2 I have given him the heathen for his
inheritance, and the ends of the earth for his
possession ; and who will hinder him to take
possession of his right ! If any offer to do
so, what shall they be, but a number of
earthern vessels fighting against an iron
sceptre, and so, certainly breaking them-
selves in pieces? Thus here, I lay this
foundation-stone ; and if I lay it, who shall
remove it 2 and what I build upon it, who
shall be able to cast down 2 For it is the
glory of this great master-builder, that the
whole fabric which is of his building can not
be ruined ; and for that end hath he laid an
unmoveable foundation: and for that end are
we taught and reminded of its firmness, that
we may have this confidence concerning the
Church of God that is built upon it. To the
eye of nature, the church seems to have no
foundation: as Job speaks of the earth, that
it is hung upon nothing, and yet, as the
earth remaineth firm, being established in its
place by the word and power of God, the
church is most firmly founded upon the word
made flesh—Jesus Christ as its chief corner-
stone. And as all the winds that blow can
not remove the earth out of its place, so nei-
ther can all the attempts of men, no, nor of
the gates of hell, prevail against the church,
Matt. xvi. 18. It may be beaten with very
boisterous storms, but it can not fall, because
it is founded upon this Rock, Matt. vii. 25.
Thus it is with the whole house, and thus
with every stone in it; as here it follows, He
that believeth shall not be confounded.
3dly, There, is next, the building on this
foundation. To be built on Christ, is plainly
to believe in him. But in this they most de-
ceive themselves; they hear of great privi-
leges and happiness in Christ, and presently
imagine it as all theirs, without any more
ado; as that mad man of Athens, who wrote
up all the ships that came into the haven for
his own. We consider not what it is to be-
lieve in him, nor what is the necessity of this
believing, in order that we may be partakers
of the salvation that he hath wrought. It is
not they that have heard of him, or that have
some common knowledge of him, or that
are able to discourse of him, and speak of his
person and nature aright, but they that be-
lieve in him. Much of our knowledge is like
that of the poor philosopher, who defineth
riches exactly, and discourseth of their na-
ture, but possesseth none; or we are as a ge-
ometrician, who can measure land exactly in
all its dimensions, but possesseth not a foot
thereof. And truly it is but a lifeless unsa-
vory knowledge that men have of Christ by
all books and study, till he reveal himself
and persuade the heart to believe in him.
Then, indeed, when it sees him, and is made
one with him, it says of all the reports it
heard, I heard much, yet the half was not
told me. There is in lively faith, when it is
infused into the soul, a clearer knowledge of
Christ and his excellency than before, and
with it, a recumbency of the soul upon him
as the foundation of its life and comfort; a
resolving to rest on him, and not to depart
from him upon any terms. Though I be be-
set on all hands, be accused by the law, and
by mine own conscience, and by Satan, and
have nothing to answer for myself, yet, here
I will stay, for I am sure in him there is sal-
Vation, and nowhere else. All other refuges
are but lies (as it is expressed in the words
before these in the prophet), poor base shifts
that will do no good. God hath laid this
precious stone in Sion, for this very purpose,
that weary souls may rest upon it; and why
should not I make use of it according to his
intention ? He hath not forbid any, how
wretched soever, to believe, but commands
it, and himself works it where he will, even
in the vilest sinners.
Think it not enough that you know this
stone is laid, but see whether you are built
on it by faith. The multitude of imaginary
believers lie round about it, but they are
never the better nor the surer for that, any
more than stones that lie loose in heaps near
unto a foundation, but are not joined to it.
There is no benefit to us by Christ, without
union with him ; no comfort in his riches,
without an interest in them, and a title to
them, by virtue of that union. Then is the
soul right when it can say, He is altogether
!ovely, and as the Spouse (Cant. iii. 16), He
is mine, my well-beloved. . This union is the
spring of all spiritual consolations. , And faith,
by which we are thus united, is a Divine work.
He that laid this foundation in Sion with his
own hand, works likewise, with the same
hand, faith in the heart, by which it is knit
to this corner-stone. It is not easy as we
imagine, to believe. See Eph. i. 19. Many
that think they believe, are, on the contrary,
like those of whom the prophet there speaks,
as hardened in sin and carnally secure, whom
he represents as in covenant with hell and
death, walking in sin, and yet promising
themselves impunity.
WER. 6.]
143
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
4thly, There is the firmness of this Build-
ing, namely, He that believeth on him shall
not be confounded. This firmness is answer-
able to the nature of the foundation. Not
only the whole frame, but every stone of it
abideth sure. It is a simple mistake, to judge
the persuasion of perseverance to be self-pre-
sumption : they that have it, are far from
building it on themselves, but their foundation
is that which makes them sure ; because it
doth not only remain firm itself, but indisso-
lubly supports all that are once built on it.
In the prophet, whence this is cited, it is,
Shall not make haste, but the sense is one :
they that are disappointed and ashamed in
their hopes, run to and fro, and seek after
some new resource; this they shall not need
to do, who come to Christ. The believing
soul makes haste to Christ, but it never finds
cause to hasten from him ; and though the
comfort it expects and longs for, be for a time
deferred, yet it gives not over, knowing that
in due time it shall rejoice, and shall not
have cause to blush and think shame of its
confidence in him. David expresseth this
distrust, by making haste, Psal. xxxi. 22; and
cxvi. 11 : I was too hasty when I said so.
Hopes frustrated, especially where they have
been raised high, and continued long, do re-
proach men with folly, and so shame them.
And thus do all earthly hopes serve us when
we lean much upon them. We find usually
those things that have promised us most con-
tent pay us with vexation; and they not only
}. broken reeds, deceiving our trust, but
urtful, running their broken splinters into
our hand who leaned on them. This sure
Foundation is laid for us, that our souls may
be established on it, and be as Mount Sion
that can not be removed, Psal. cxxv. 1. Such
times may come as will shake all other sup-
ports, but this holds out against all, Ps. xlvi.
2: Though the earth be removed, yet will not
we fear. Though the frame of the world
wear cracking about a man's ears, he may
here it unaffrighted who is built on this foun-
dation. Why then do we choose to build
wpon the sand 2 Believe it, wheresoever we
lay our confidence and affection beside Christ,
it shall sooner or later repent us and shame
us; either happily in time, while we may yet
change them for him, and have recourse to
him ; or miserably, when it is too late. Re-
member that we must die and must appear
before the judgment-seat of God, and that
the things we doat on here, have neither
power to stay us here, nor have we power to
take them along with us, nor, if we could,
would they at all profit us there; and there-
fore, when we look back upon them all at
parting, we shall wonder what fools we were
to make so poor a choice. And in that great
day wherein all faces shall gather blackness
(Joel.ii. 6), and be filled with confusion, that
have neglected to make Christ their stay
when he was offered them, then it shall ap-
pear how happy they are who have trusted
in him : They shall not be confounded, but
shall lift up their faces, and be acquitted in
him. In their present estate they may be ex-
ercised, but then they shall not be confounded,
nor ashamed—there is a double negation in
the original—by no means ; they shall he more
than conquerors, through him who hath loved
them. Rom. viii. 37.
5th/y, The last thing observable is, the
greatness and excellency of the work, inti-
mated in that first word, Behold, which im-
ports this work to be very remarkable, and
calls the eyes to fix upon it.
The Lord is marvellous in the least of his
works ; but in this he hath manifested more
of his wisdom and power, and let out more
of his love to mankind, than in all the rest.
Yet we are foolish, and childishly gaze about
us upon trifles, and let this great work pass
unregarded ; we scarcely afford it half an eye.
Turn your wandering eyes this way: look
upon this Precious Stone, and behold him,
not in mere speculation, but so behold him as
to lay hold on him. For we see he is there-
fore here set forth, that we may believe on
him, and so not be confounded ; that we may
attain this blessed union, that can not be dis-
solved. All other unions are dissoluble : a
man may be plucked from his dwelling-house
and lands, or they from him, though he have
never so good a title to them; may be re-
moved from his dearest friends, the husband
from the wife, if not by other accidents in
their lifetime, yet sure by death, the great
dissolver of all those unions, and of that strait-
est one, of the soul with the body; but it can
do nothing against this union, but, on the con-
trary, perfects it. For I am persuaded, says
St. Paul, that neither death, nor life, nor an-
gels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things
present, nor things to come, nor height, nor
depth, nor any other creature, shall be able
to separate us from the love of God, which
is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans viii.
38, 39. ©
There is a twofold mistake concerning
faith : on the one side, they that are altogeth-
er void of it, abusing and flattering themselves
in a vain opinion that they have it ; and, on
the other side, they that have it, misjudging
their own condition, and so depriving them-
selves of much comfort and sweetness that
they might find in their believing.
The former is the worse, and yet by far the
commoner evil. What one says of wisdom,
is true of faith : Many would seek after it,
and attain it, if they did not falsely imagine
that they have attained it already.” There
is nothing more contrary to the lively nature
of faith, than for the soul not to be at all bu-
sied with the thoughts of its own spiritual
condition, and yet this very character of un-
belief passes with a great many for believing.
They doubt not, that is, indeed they consider
.* Puto multos, potuisse ad sapientiam pervenire,
nisiputassent sejam pervenisse.-SENECA. De Tran-
guillitate.
144
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
not what they are ; their minds are not at all
on these things—are not awakened to seek
diligently after Jesus, so as not to rest till
they find him. They are well enough with-
out him ; it suffices them to hear there is
such a one; but they ask not themselves, “Is
he mine, or no 2° Surely, if that be all—not
to doubt—the brutes believe as well as they.
It were better, out of all question, to be labor-
ing under doubtings, if it be a more hopeful
condition, to find a man groaning and com-
plaining, than speechless, and breathless, and
not stirring at all.
There be in spiritual doubtings two things;
there is a solicitous care of the soul concern-
ing its own estate, and a diligent inquiry into
it, and that is laudable, being a true work of
the Spirit of God; but the other thing in them
is, perplexity and distrust arising from dark-
ness and weakness in the soul. Where there
is a great deal of smoke, and no clear flame,
it argues much moisture in the matter, yet it
witnesseth certainly that there is fire there;
and therefore, dubious qmestioning of a män
concerning himself is a much better evidence
than that senseless deadness which most take
for believing. Men that know nothing in sci-
ences, have no doubts. He never truly be-
lieved, who was not made first sensible and
convinced of unbelief. This is the Spirit's first
errand in the world, to convince it of sin ; and
the sin is this, that they believe not, John xvi.
8, 9. If the faith that thou hast, grew out of
thy natural heart of itself, be assured it is but
a weed. The right plant of faith is always
set by God's own hand, and it is watered and
preserved by him; because exposed to many
hazards, he watches it night and day. Isai.
xxvii. 3: I the Lord do keep it, I will water
it every moment, lest any hurt it ; I will keep
it night and day. 2-
Again, how impudent is it in the most, to
pretend they believe, while they wallow in
profaneness' . If faith unite the soul unto
Christ, certainly it puts it into participation
of his Spirit; for if any man have not the
Spirit of Christ, he is none of his, says St.
Paul. This faith in Christ brings us into com-
munion with God. Now, God is light, says
St. John, and he therefore infers, If we say we
have fellowship with God, and walk ºn dark-
ness, we lie, and do not the truth, 1 John i. 6.
The lie appears in our practice, an unsuita-
bleness in our carriage; as one said of him
that signed his verse wrong, Fecit soloecismum
972(Z72?!.
But there be imaginery believers who are
a little more refined, who live after a blame-
less, yea, and a religious manner, as to their
outward behavior, and yet are but appear-
ances of Christians, have not the living work
of faith within, and all these exercises are
dead works in their hands. Among these,
some may have such motions within them as
may deceive themselves, while their external
deportment deceives others; they may have
some transient touches of desire to Christ,
upon the unfolding of his excellencies in the
preaching of the word, and upon some con-
viction of their own necessity, and may con-
ceive some joy upon thoughts of apprehend-
ing him ; and yet, all this proves but a van-
ishing fancy, an embracing of a shadow.
And because men who are thus deluded meet
not with Christ indeed, do not really find his
sweetness, therefore, within a while, they re-
turn to the pleasures of sin, and their latter
end proves worse than their beginning, 1 Pet.
ii. 20. Their hearts could not possibly be
steadfast, because there was nothing to fix
them on, in all that work wherein Christ him-
self was wanting.
But the truly believing soul that is brought
unto Jesus Christ, and fastened upon him by
God’s own hand, abides stayed on him, and
departs not. And in these persons, the very
belief.of the things that are spoken concern-
ing Christ in the gospel, the persuasion of
Divine truth, is of a higher nature than the
common consent that is called historical ;
they have another knowledge and evidence
of the mysteries of the kingdom, than natural
men can have. This is indeed the ground of
all, the very thing that causes a man to rest.
upon Christ, when he hath a persuasion
wrought in his heart by the Spirit of God,
that Christ is an able Redeemer, a sufficient
Savior, able to save all that come to him, Heb.
vii. 25. Then, upon this, the heart resolves
upon that course: Seeing I am persuaded of
this, that whoso believes in him, shall not per-
ish, but have everlasting life (or as it is here,
shall not be confounded), I am to deliberate
no longer: this is the thing I must do, I must
lay my soul upon him, upon one who is an
Almighty Redeemer: and it does so. Now,
these first actings of faith have in themselves
an evidence that distinguishes them from all
that is counterfeit, a light of their own, by
which the soul, wherein they are, may dis-
cern them and say, “This is the right work
of faith;” especially when God shines upon
the soul, and clears it in the discovery of his
own work within it.
And further, they may find the influence
of faith upon the affectionate purifying them,
as our apostle says of it, Acts xv. 9. Faith
knits the heart to a Holy Head, a pure Lord,
the Spring of purity, and therefore can not
choose but make it pure: it is a beam from
Heaven, that raises the mind to a heavenly
temper. Although there are remains of sin.
in a believing soul, yet it is a hated, weari-
some guest there. It exists there, not as its
delight, but as its greatest grief and malady,
which it is still lamenting and complaining
of; it had rather be rid of it than gain a
world. Thus the soul is purified from the
love of sin.
So then, where these are—a spiritual appre-
hension of the promises, a cleaving of the soul
unto Christ, and such a delight in him as
makes sin vile and distasteful, so that the
heart is set against it, and, as the needle
WER. 7, 8.]
145
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
touched' with the loadstone, is still turned
toward Christ, and looks at him in all estates
—the soul that is thus disposed, hath certain-
ly interest in him ; and, therefore, ought not
to affect an humor of doubting, but to con-
clude, that how unworthy soever in itself, yet
being in him, it shall not be ashamed : not
only it shall never have cause to think shame
of him, but all its just cause of shame in it-
self shall be taken away; it shall be covered
with his righteousness, and appear so before
the Father. Who must not think, “If my
sins were to be set in order, and appear
against me, how would my face be filled with
shame! Though there were no more, if some
thoughts that I am guilty of were laid to my
charge, I were utterly ashamſéd and undone.
Oh! there is nothing in myself but matter of
shame, but yet, in Christ there is more mat-
ter of glorying, who endured shame, that we
might not be ashamed. We can not distrust
ourselves efiough, nor trust enough in him.
Let it be right faith, and there can be no ex-
cess in believing. Though I have sinned
against him, and abused his goodness, yet I
will not leave him ; for whither-should I go 2
He, and none but he, hath the words of eter-
nal life. Yea, though he being so often of-
fended, should threaten to leave me to the
shame of my own follies, yet I will stay by
him, and wait for a better answer, and I
know I shall obtain it; this assurance being
given me for my comfort, that whosoever be-
lieves in him shall not be ashamed.”
VER. 7. Unto you, therefore, which believe, he is
precious ; but unto them who be disobedient, the
stone which the builders disallowed, the same is
made the head of the corner;
VER. 8. And a stone of stumbling, and a rock of of.
fence, even to them which stumble at the word,
being disobedient, whereunto also they were ap-
pointed.
BESIDEs all the opposition that meets faith
within, in our hearts, it hath this without,
that it rows against the great stream of the
world's opinion ; and therefore hath need,
especially where it is very tender and weak, to
be strengthened against that. The multitude
of unbelievers, and the considerable quality
of many of them in the world, are continuing
causes of that very multitude; and the few-
ness of them that truly believe, doth much
to the keeping of them still few. And as
this prejudice prevails with them that be-
lieve not, so it may sometimes assault the
mind of a believer, when he thinks how
many, and many of them wise men, in the
world, reject Christ. Whence can this be?
Particularly the believing Jews, to whom this
epistle is addressed, might think it strange,
that not only the Gentiles, who were stran-
gers to true religion, but their own nation,
that was the select people of God, and had
the light of his oracles kept in among them
only, should yet, so many of them, yea, and
the chief of them, be despisers and haters
of Jesus Christ; and that they who were
best versed in the lawººd so seemed best
able to judge of the Messiah foretold, should
have persecuted Christ all his life, and at
last put him to a shameful death.
That they may know that this makes noth-
ing against him, nor ought to invalidate their
faith at all, but that it rather indeed testifies
with Christ, and so serves to confirm them
in believing, the apostle makes use of those
prophetical Scriptures, which foretell the un-
belief and contempt with which the most
would entertain Christ withal; as old Sim-
eon speaks of him, when he was come, agree-
ably to those former predictions, that he
should be a sign of contradiction, Luke ii.
34; that, as he was the promised sign of sal-
vation to believers, so he should be a very
mark of enmities and contradictions to the
unbelieving world. The passages the apos-
tle here useth suit with his present discourse,
and with the words cited from Isaiah in the
former verse, continuing the resemblance of
a corner-stone : they are taken partly from
the one hundred and eighteenth Psalm, partly
out of the eighth chapter of Isaiah.
Unto you, &c.], Wonder not that others
refuse him, but believe the more for that, be-
cause you see the word to be true even in
their not believing of it; it is fulfilled and
verified by their very rejecting of it as false.
And whatsoever are the world's thoughts
concerning Christ, that imports not, for they
know him not; but you that do indeed be-
lieve, I dare appeal to yourselves, to your
own faith that you have of him, whether he
is not precious to you, whether you do not
really find him fully answerable to all that
is spoken of him in the word, and to all that
you have accordingly believed concerning
him.
We are here to consider, I. The opposition.
of the persons; and then, II. The opposition.
of the things spoken of them.
I. The persons are opposed under the
names of believers and disobedient, or unbe-
lievers; for the word is so near, that it may
be taken for unbelief, and it is by some so
rendered ; and the things are fully as near
to each other as the words that signify them
—disobedience and unbelief.
1. Unbelief is itself the grand disobedi-
ence. For this is the work of God, that
which the gospel mainly commands, that ye
believe, John vi. 29; therefore the apostle
calls it the obedience of faith, Rom. i. 5.
And there is nothing indeed more worthy of
the name of obedience, than the subjection of
the mind to receive and to believe those su-
pernatural truths which the gospel teaches
concerning Jesus Christ; to obey so as to
have, as the apostle speaks, the impression.
of that divine pattern stamped upon the heart:
to have the heart delivered up, as the word
there is, and laid under it to receive it, Rom.
vi. 17. The word here used for disobedience
signifies properly unpersuasion ; and nothing
can more properly express the nature of un-
belief than that ; and it is the Very nature
146
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENT ARY UPON THE
of our corrupt hearts; we are children of
disobedience, or unpersuasibleness, Ephes.
ii. 2, altogether incredulous toward God, who
is truth itself, and pliable as wax in Satan's
hand, who works in such persons what he
will, as there the apostle expresses. They
are most easy of belief to him, who is the
very father of lies, as our Savior calls him,
John viii. 44, a liar and a murderer from the
beginning, murdering by lies, as he did in
the beginning.
2. Unbelief is radically all other disobedi-
ence; for all flows from unbelief. This we
least of all are ready to suspect; but it is the
bitter root of all that ungodliness that abounds
among us. A right and lively persuasion of
the heart concerning Jesus Christ, alters the
whole frame of it, casts down its high lofty
imaginations, and brings, not only the out-
ward actions, but the very thoughts unto the
obedience of Christ. 2 Cor. x. 5.
II. As for the things spoken concerning
these disobedient unbelievers, these two tes-
timonies taken together, have in them these
three things; 1. Their rejection of Christ;
2. Their folly; 3. Their misery in so doing.
1. Their rejection of Christ; they did not
receive him, as the Father appointed and de-
signed him; as the foundation and chief cor-
ner-stone, but slighted him, and threw him
by, as unfit for the building ; and this did
not only the ignorant multitude, but the buil-
ders, they that professed to have the skill
and the office, or power, of building—the
doctors of the law, the scribes and pharisees,
and chief priests—who thought to carry the
matter by the weight of their authority, as
overbalancing the belief of those that fol-
lowed Christ. Have any of the rulers be-
lieved in him 2 But this people who know not
the law are cursed. John vii. 48, 49.
We need not wonder then, that not only
the powers of the world are usually enemies
to Christ, and that the contrivers of policies,
those builders, leave out Christ in their build-
ing, but that the pretended builders of the
church of God, though they use the name of
Christ, and serve their turn with that, yet re-
ject himself, and oppose the power of his
spiritual kingdom. There may be wit and
learning, and much knowledge of the Scrip-
tures, among those that are haters of the
Lord Christ, and of the power of godliness,
and corrupters of the worship of God. It is
the spirit of humility and obedience, and
saving faith, that teach men to esteem Christ,
and build upon him.
2. But the vanity and folly of those build-
ers’ opinion, appears in this, that they are
overpowered by the great Architect of the
church : his purpose stands. Notwithstand-
ing their rejection of Christ, he is still made
the head corner-stone. They cast him away
by their miscensures and reproaches put upon
him, and by giving him up to be crucified
and then cast into the grave, causing a stone
to be rolled upon this stone which they had
so rejected, that it might appear no more, and -
so thought themselves sure. But even thence
did he arise, and became the head of the cor-
ner. The disciples, themselves spake, you
know, very doubtfully of their former hopes:
We believed this had been he that would have
delivered Israel ; but he corrected their mis-
take, first by his word, showing them the
true method of that great work, Ought not
Christ to suffer first these great things, and
so enter into glory 3 and then really, by ma-
king himself known to them as risen from
the dead. When he was by these rejected,
and lay lowest, then was he nearest his ex-
altation : as Joseph in the prison was nearest
his preferment. And thus is it with the church
of Christ: when it is brought to the lowest
and most desperate condition, then is deliv-
erance at hand ; it prospers and gains in the
event, by all the practices of men against it.
And as this corner-stone was fitted to be
such, by the very rejection of it, even so is it
with the whole building ; it rises the higher
the more men seek to demolish it.
3. The unhappiness of them that believe
not is expressed in the other word, He is to
them a stone of stumbling, and a rock of of
#. Because they will not be saved by
im, they shall stumble and fall, and be bro-
ken to pieces on him, as it is in Isaiah, and
in the evangelists. But how is this 2 Is he
who came to save, become a destroyer of
men 3. He whose name is Salvation, proves
he destruction to any ? Not he himself; his
primary and proper use is the former, to be a
foundation for souls to build and rest upon ;
but they who, instead of building upon him,
will stumble and fall on him, what wonder,
being so firm a stone, though they be broken
by their fall! Thus we see the mischief of
unbelief, that as other sins disable the law,
this disables the very gospel to save us, and
turns life into death to us. And this is the
misery, not of a few, but of many in Israel.
Many that hear of Christ by the preaching
of the gospel, shall lament that ever they
heard that sound, and shall wish to have
lived and died without it, finding so great an
accession to their misery, by the neglect of
so great salvation. They are said to stumble
at the word because the things that are there-
in testified concerning Christ, they labor not
to understand and prize aright; but either
altogether slight them, and account them
foolishness, or misconceive and pervert them
The Jews stumbled at the meanness of
Christ's birth and life, and the ignominy of
his death, not judging of him according to
the Scriptures; and we, in another way,
think we have some kind of belief that he is
the Savior of the world, yet, not making the
Scripture the rule of our thoughts concerning
him, many of us undo ourselves, and stumble
and break our necks upon this rock, mista-
king Christ and the way of believing ; look-
ing on him as a Savior at large, and judging
that enough ; not endeavoring to make him
WER. 9..]
147
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
ours, and to embrace him upon the terms of
that new covenant whereof he is Mediator.
Whereunto also they were #. This
the apostle adds, for the further satisfaction
of believers in this point, how it is that so
many reject Christ, and stumble at him ; tel-
ling them plainly, that the secret purpose of
God is accomplished in this. God having
determined to glorify his justice on impeni-
tent sinners, as he shows his rich mercy in
them that believe. Here it were easier to
lead you into a deep, than to lead you forth
again. I will rather stand on the shore, and
silently admire it, than enter into it. This is
certain, that the thoughts of God are all not
less just in themselves, than deep and un-
soundable by us. His justice appears clear,
in that man's destruction is always the fruit
of his own sin. But to give causes of God's
decrees without himself, is neither agreeable
with the primitive being of the nature of God,
nor with the doctrine of the Scriptures. This
is sure, that God is not bound to give us fur-
ther account of these things, and we are
bound not to ask it. Let these two words,
as St. Augustine says, answer all, What art
º O man 2 and, O the depth? Rom. ix. 20;
xi. 33.
Our only sure way to know that our names
are not in that black line, and to be persuaded
that he hath chosen us to be saved by his
Son, is this, to find that we have chosen him,
and are built on him by faith, which is the
fruit of his love, who first chooseth us; and
that we may read in our esteem of him.
He is precious.] Or, your honor. The dif.
ference is smalſ. You account him your
glory and your gain; he is not only precious
to you, but preciousness itself. He is the
thing that you make account of, your jewel,
which if you keep, though you be robbed of
all besides, you know yourselves to be rich
enough. y
To you that believe..] Faith is absolutely
necessary to make this due estimate of Christ.
1. The most excellent things, while their
worth is undiscerned and unknown, affect us
not. Now, faith is the proper seeing faculty
of the soul, in relation to Christ: that inward
light must be infused from above, to make
Christ visible to us; without it, though he is
beautiful, yet we are blind; and therefore
can not love him for that beauty. But by
faith we are enabled to see him who is fairer
than the children of men, Psal. xlv. 2, yea, to
see in him; the glory of the only begotten Son
of God, John i. 14; and then, it is not possi-
ble but to account him precious, and to be-
Stow the entire affection of our hearts upon
him. And if any one say to the soul, What
is thy beloved more than another 2 (Cant. iii.
9), it willingly lays hold on the question, and
is glad of an opportunity to extol him.
2. Faith, as it is that which discerns Christ,
So it alone appropriates him, makes him our
own. And these are the two reasons of our
esteeming and affecting anything, its own
worth, and our interest in it. Faith begets
this esteem of Christ by both : first it discov-
ers to us his excellences, which we could not
see before ; and then, it makes him ours,
gives us possession of whole Christ, all that
he hath, and is. As it is faith that com-
mends Christ so much, and describes his
comeliness in that song, so that word is the
voice of faith, that expresses propriety, My
well-beloved is mine, and I am his. Cant.
ii. 16. And these together make him most
precious to the soul. Having once possession
of him, then it looks upon all his sufferings
as endured particularly for it, and the benefit
of them all as belonging to itself. Sure, it
will say, can I choose but account him pre-
cious, who suffered shame that I might not
be ashamed, and suffered death that I might
not die; who took that bitter cup of the Fa-
ther's wrath, and drank it out, that I might
be free from it?
Think not that you believe, if your hearts
be not taken up with Christ, if his love do
not possess your soul, so that nothing is pre-
cious to you in respect of him; if you can not
despise and trample upon all advantages that
either you have or would have, for Christ,
and count them, with the great apostle, Joss
and dung in comparison of him, Phil. iii. 8.
And if you do esteem him, labor for increase
of faith, that you may esteem him more ; for
as faith grows, so will he still be more pre-
cious to you. And if you would have it
grow, turn that spiritual eye frequently to
him, who is the proper object of it. For
even they who are believers, may possibly
abate of their love and esteem of Christ, by
suffering faith to lie dead within them, and
not using it in beholding and applying of
Christ; and the world, or some particular
Vanities, may insensibly creep in, and get
into the heart, and cause them much pains
ere they can be thrust out again. But when
they are daily reviewing those excellences
that are in Christ, which first persuaded their
hearts to love him, and are discovering still
more and more of them, his love will cer-
tainly grow, and will chase away those fol-
lies that the world doats upon, as unworthy
to be taken notice of.
VER. 9. But ye are a chosen generation, a royal
priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people, that
ye should show forth the praises of him who hath
called you out of darkness into his marvellous light.
IT is a matter of very much consolation
and instruction to Christians to know their
own estate—what they are as they are Chris-
tians. This Epistle is much and often upon
this point for both those ends; that the re-
flecting upon their dignities in Christ, may
uphold them with comfort under suffering for
him; and also, that it may lead them in do-
ing and walking as becomes such a condition.
Here it hath been represented to us by a
building, a spiritual temple, and by a priest-
hood conformable to it.
The former is confirmed and illustrated by
148
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
testimonies of Scripture in the preceding ver-
ses ; the latter in this verse, in which, though
it is not expressly cited, yet it is clear that
the apostle hath reference to Exod. xix. 5, 6,
where this dignity of priesthood, together
with the other titles here expressed, is as-
cribed to all the chosen people of God. It is
there a promise made to the nation of the
Jews, but under the condition of obedience,
and therefore it is most fitly here applied, by
the apostle, to the believing Jews, to whom
particularly he writes. -
It is true, that the external priesthood of
the law is abolished by the coming of this
great High Priest, Jesus Christ being the
body of all those shadows; but this promised
dignity of spiritual priesthood is so far from
being annulled by Christ, that it is altogether
dependant on him, and therefore fails in those
that reject Christ, although they be of that
nation to which this promise was made. But
1t holds good in all, of all nations, that be-
lieve, and particularly, says the apostle, it is
verified in you. You that are believing Jews,
by receiving Christ, receive withal this dig-
nity.
As the legal priesthood was removed by
Christ's fulfilling all that is prefigured, so, he
was rejected by them that were, at his com-
ing, in possession of that office: as the stand-
ing of that their priesthood was inconsistent
with the revealing of Jesus Christ, so, they
who were then in it, being ungodly men,
their carnal minds had a kind of antipathy
against him. Though they pretended them-
selves builders of the church, and by their
calling ought to have been so, yet, they threw
away the foundation-stone that God had cho-
Sen and designed, and in rejecting it, mani-
fested that they themselves were rejected of
God. But, on the contrary, you who have
laid your souls on Christ by believing, have
this your choosing him as a certain evidence
that God hath chosen you to be his peculiar
people, yea, to be so dignified as to be a
Kingly priesthood, through Christ.
We have here to consider, 1. The estate
of Christians, in the words that here describe
it; 2. The opposition of it to the state of un-
believers; 3. The end of it.
First. The state of Christians, A chosen
generation. So, in Psalm xxiv. The psalm-
ist there speaks first of God’s universal sov-
ereignty, then of his peculiar choice. The
earth is the Lord's (ver. 1), but there is a se-
lect company appointed for his holy mount-
ain, there described ; and the description is
closed thus, This the generation of them that
seek him. Thus Deut. x. 14, 15, and Exod.
xix. 5, whence this passage is taken, For all
the earth is mine, and that nation which is a
figure of the elect of all nations, God's pecu-
Ziar, beyond all others in the world. As men
who have great variety of possessions, yet
have usually their special delight in some one
beyond all the rest, and choose to reside most
in it, and bestow most expense on it to make
it pleasant; so doth the Lord of the whole
earth choose out to himself from theerest of
the world, a number that are a chosen gen-
eration.
Choosing, here, is the work of effectual call-
ing, or the severing of believers from the rest;
for it signifies a difference in their present es-
tate, as do likewise the other words joined
with it. But this election is altogether con-
formable to that of God’s eternal decree, and
is no other than the execution or performance
of it; God's framing of this his building be-
ing just according to the idea of it which
was in his mind and purpose before all time:
it is the drawing forth and investing of those
into this Christian, this kingly priesthood,
whose names were expressly written up for
it in the book of life.
Generation.] This imports them to be of
one race or stock. As the Israelites, who
were by outward calling the children of God,
were all the seed of Abraham according to
the flesh ; so, they that believe in the ord
Jesus, are children of the promise, Gal. iv. 28;
and all of them are, by their new birth, one
people or generation. They are of one na-
tion, belonging to the same blessed land of
promise, all citizens of the New Jerusalem,
yea, all children of the same family, whereof
Jesus Christ, the root of Jesse, is the stock,
who is the great King, and the great High
Priest. And thus they are a royal priest-
hood. There is no devolving of his royalty
or priesthood on any other, as it is in him-
self; for his proper dignity is Supreme and
incommunicable, and there is no succession
in his order: he lives for ever, and is priest
for ever, Psal. cx. 4, and king for ever too,
Psal. xlv. 6. But they that are descended
from him, do derive from him, by that new
original, this double dignity, in that way that
they are capable of it, to be likewise kings
and priests, as he is both. They are of the
seed-royal, and of the holy seed of the priest-
hood, inasmuch as they partake of a new life
from Christ. Thus, in Rev. i. 5, 6, first, there
is his own dignity expressed, then, his digni-
fying us: Who is himself the first begotten
among the dead, and the prince of the kings
of the earth ; and then it follows, and hath
made us kings and priests unto God and his
Father. tº e
A royal priesthood.]. That the dignity of
believers is expressed by these two together,
by priesthood and royalty, teaches us the
worth and excellency of that holy function
taken properly, and so, by analogy, the dignity
of the ministry of the gospel, which God hath
placed in his church, instead of the priest-
hood of the law; for therefore doth this title
of spiritual priesthood fitly signify a great
privilege and honor that Christians are pro-
moted to, and it is joined with that of kings,
because the proper office of priesthood was so
honorable. Before it was established in one
family, the chief, the first-born of each family,
had a right to this, as a special honor; and
WER. 9..]
149
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
among the heathens, in some places, their
princes and greatest men, yea, their kings
were their priests; and, universally, the per-
forming of their holy things was an employ-
ment of great honor and esteem among them.
Though human ambition hath strained this
consideration too high, to the favoring and
founding of a monarchical prelacy in the
Christian world, yet that abuse of it ought
not to prejudge us of this due and just con-
sequence from it, that the holy functions of
God's house have very much honor and digni-
ty in them. And the apostle, we see, 2 Cor.
iii., prefers the ministry of the gospel to the
priesthood of the law. So then, they mistake
much, who think it a disparagement to men
that have some advantages of birth or wit
more than ordinary, to bestow them thus, and
who judge the meanest persons and things
good enough for this high calling. Surely
this conceit can not have place, but in an un-
holy, irreligious mind, that hath either no
thoughts, or very mean thoughts of God. If
they who are called to this holy service would
themselves consider this aright, it would not
puff them up, but humble them : comparing
their own worthlessness with this great work,
they would wonder at God’s dispensation, that
should thus have honored them. As St. Paul
speaks of himself, Ephes. iii. 8, Unto me who
am less than the least of all saints is this
grace given, &c., so, the more a man rightly
extols this his calling, the more he humbles
himself under the weight of it; and this would
make him very careful to walk more suitably
to it in eminency of holiness, for in that con-
sists its true dignity.
There is no doubt that this kingly priest-
hood is the common dignity of all believers:
this honor have all the saints. They are
kings, have victory and dominion given them
over the powers of darkness and the lusts of
their own hearts, that held them captive, and
domineered over them before. Base, slavish
lusts, not born to command, yet are the hard
taskmasters of unrenewed minds; and there is
no true subduing of them, but by the power
and Spirit of Christ. They may be quiet for
a while in a natural man, but they are then
but asleep ; as soon as they awake again, they
return to hurry and drive him with their
wonted violence. Now this is the benefit of
receiving the kingdom of Christ into a man's
heart, that it makes him a king himself. All
the subjects of Christ are kings, not only in
regard of that pure crown of glory they hope
for, and shall certainly attain, but in the pres-
ent, they have a kingdom which is the pledge
of that other, overcoming the world, and
Satan, and themselves, by the power of faith.
Mens bona regnum possidet, A good mind is
a kingdom in itself, it is true; but there is no
mind truly good, but that wherein Christ
dwells. There is not any kind of spirit in the
world, so noble as that spirit that is in a
Christian, the very spirit of Jesus Christ, that
great king, the spirit of glory, as our apostle
calls it below, ch. iv. This is a sure way to
ennoble the basest and poorest among us.
This royalty takes away all attainders, and
leaves nothing of all that is passed to be laid
to our charge, or to dishonor us.
Believers are not shut out from God, as
they were before, but, being in Christ, are
brought near unto him, and have free access
to the throne of his grace, Heb. x. 21, 22.
They resemble, in their spiritual state, the
legal priesthood very clearly, I. In their con-
secration; II. In their service; and, III. In
their laws of living.
I. In their consecration. The Levitical
priests were, 1, washed; therefore this is
expressed, Revel. i. 5, He hath washed us in
his blood, and then follows, and hath made us
kings and priests. There would have been
no coming near unto God in his holy services
as his priests, unless we had been cleansed
from the guiltiness and pollution of our sins.
This that pure and purifying blood doth : and
it alone. No other laver can do it; no water
but that fountain opened for sin and for un-
cleanness. Zech. xiii. 1. No blood, none of
all that blood of legal sacrifices (Heb. ix. 12),
but only the blood of that spotless Lamb that
takes away the sins of the world, John i. 29.
So with this, 2. We have that other ceremony
of the priest's consecration, which was by
sacrifice, as well as by washing; for Christ
at once offered up himself as our sacrifice, and
let out his blood for our washing. With
good reason is that prefixed there, Rev. i. 5,
He hath loved us, and then it follows, wash-
ed us in his blood. That precious stream of his
heart-blood, that flowed for our washing, told
clearly that it was a heart full of unspeakable
love that was the source of it. 3. There is
anointing, namely, the graces of the Spirit,
conferred upon believers, flowing unto them
from Christ. For it is of his fulness that we
all receive grace for grace (John i. 16); and
the Apostle St. Paul says (2 Cor. i. 16), that
we are established and anointed in Christ. It
was poured on him as our head, and runs
down from him unto us; He the Christ, and
we Christians, as partakers of his anointing.
The consecrating oil of the priests was made
of the richest ointments and spices to show
the preciousness of the graces of God's Spirit,
which are bestowed on these spiritual priests;
and as that holy oil was not for common use,
nor for any other persons to be anointed
withal, save the priests only, so is the Spirit
of grace a peculiar gift to believers. Others
might have costly ointments among the Jews,
but none of that same sort with the consecra-
tion-oil. Natural men may have very great
gifts of judgment, and learning, and eloquence,
and moral virtues, but they have none of this
precious oil, namely, the Spirit of Christ com-
municated to them; no, all their endow-
ments are but common and profane. That
holy oil signified particularly, eminency of
light and knowledge in the priests; there-
fore, in Christians there must be light. They
150
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
that are grossly ignorant of spiritual things
are surely not of this order; this anointing is
said to teach us all things, 1 John ii. 27. That
holy oil was of a most fragrant sweet smell,
by reason of its precious composition; but
much more sweet is the smell of that Spirit
wherewith believers are anointed, those
several odoriferous graces, which are the
ingredients of their anointing oil, that heaven-
ly-mindedness, and meekness, and patience,
and humility, and the rest, that diffuse a
pleasant scent into the places and societies
where they come; their words, their actions,
and their deportment smelling sweet of them.
4. The garments wherein the priests were
inaugurate, and which they were after to
wear in their services, are outshined by that
purity and holiness wherewith all the saints
are adorned ; but still more by that imputed
righteousness of Christ, those pure robes that
are put upon them, wherein they appear be-
fore the Lord and are accepted in his sight.
These priests are indeed clothed with righte-
ousness, according to that of the Psalmist,
Psal. cxxxii. 9. 5. The priests were to have
the offerings put into their hands; thence,
filling of the hand, signifies consecrating to
the priesthood. And thus doth Jesus Christ,
who is the consecrator of these priests, put
into their hands, by his Spirit, the offerings
they are to present unto God. He furnishes
them with prayers, and praises, and all other
oblations, that are to be offered by them;
he gives them themselves, which they are to
offer a living sacrifice, rescuing them from
the usurped possession of Satan and sin.
Let us consider their services, which were
divers. To name the chief, 1. They had
charge of the sanctuary, and the vessels of it,
and the iights, and were to keep the lamps
burning. Thus the heart of every Christian
is made a temple to the Holy Ghost, and he
himself, as a priest consecrated unto God, is
to keep it diligently, and the furniture of di-
vine grace in it; to have the light of spiritual
knowledge within him, and to nourish it by
drawing continually new supplies from Jesus
Christ. 2. The priests were to bless the
people. And truly it is this spiritual priest-
hood, the elect, that procure blessings upon
the rest of the world, and particularly on the
places where they live. They are daily to
offer the incense of prayer, and other spiritual
sacrifices unto God, as the apostle expresseth
it above, verse 5, not to neglect those holy
exercises together or apart. And as the
priests offered it not only for themselves, but
for the people, so Christians are to extend
their prayers, and to entreat the blessings of
God for others, especially for the public estate
of the church. . As the Lord's priests, they
are to offer up those praises to God that are
his due from the other creatures, which
praise him indeed, yet can not do it after the
manner in which these priests do; therefore
they are to offer, as it were, their sacrifices
for them, as the priests did for the people.
And because the most of men neglect to do
this, and can not do it indeed because they
are unholy, and are not of this priesthood,
therefore should they be so much the more
careful of it, and diligent in it. How few of
those, whom the heavens call to by their
light and revolution, that they enjoy, do offer
that sacrifice which becomes them, by ac-
knowledging the glory of God which the heav-
ens declare ' This, therefore, is as it were put
into the hands of these priests, namely, the
godly, to do. e
III. Let us consider their course of life.
We shall find rules given to the legal priests,
stricter than to others, of avoiding legal pol-
lutions, &c. And from these, this spiritual
priesthood must learn an exact, holy conver-
sation, keeping themselves from the pollu-
tions of the world; as here it follows: A holy
nation, and that of necessity ; if a priesthood,
then holy. They are purchased indeed to be
a peculiar treasure to God, Exod. xix. 5,
purchased at a very high rate. He spared
not his only Son, nor did the Son spare him-
self; so that these priests ought to be the
Lord’s peculiar portion. All believers are his
clergy; and as they are his portion, so he is
theirs. The priests had no assigned inheri-
tance among their brethren, and the reason
is added, for the Lord is their portion ; and
truly so they needed not envy any of the rest,
they had the choicest of all, the Lord of all.
Whatsoever a Christian possesses in the
world, yet, being of this spiritual priesthood,'
he is as if he possessed it not, 1 Cor. vii. 30,
lays little account on it. That which his
mind is set upon, is, how he may enjoy God,
and find clear assurance that he hath him for
his portion.
It is not so mean a thing to be a Christian
as we think: it is a holy, an honorable, a
1appy state. Few of us can esteem it, or do
labor to find it so. No, we know not these
things, our hearts are not on them, to make
this dignity and happiness sure to our souls.
Where is that true greatness of mind, and
that holiness to be found, that become those
who are kings and priests unto God? that
contempt of earthly things, and minding of
heaven, that should be in such 3 But surely,
as many as find themselves indeed partakers
of these dignities, will study to live agreea-
bly to them, and will not fail to love that
Lord Jesus who hath purchased all this for
them, and exalted them to it; yea, humbled
himself to exalt them.
Now, as to the opposition of the estate of
Christians to that of unbelievers. We best
discern, and are most sensible of the evil or
good of things by comparison. In respect of
outward condition, how many be there that
are vexing themselves with causeless mur-
murings and discontents, who, if they would
look upon the many in the world that are in
a far meaner condition than they, would be
cured of that evil It would make them not
only content, but cheerful and thankful. But
VER. 9.]
151
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
the difference here expressed, is far greater
and more considerable than any that can be
in outward things. Though the estate of a
Christian is very excellent and precious, and,
when rightly valued, hath enough in itself to
commend it, yet it doth and ought to raise
our esteem of it the higher, when we com-
pare it both with the misery of our former
condition, and with the continuing misery of
those that abide still, and are left to perish
in that woful estate. We have here both
these parallels. The happiness and dignity
to which they are chosen and called, are op-
posed to the rejection and misery of them
that continue unbelievers and rejecters of
Christ. º
Not only natural men, but even they that
have a spiritual life in them, when they for-
get themselves, are subject to look upon the
things that are before them with a natural
eye, and to think hardly, or at least doubt-
fully, concerning God’s dispensations, behold-
ing the flourishing and prosperities of the un-
godly, together with their own sufferings and
distresses. Thus, Psalm lz.xxiii. But when
they turn the other side of the medal, and
view them with a right eye, and by a true
light, they are no longer abused with those
appearances. When they consider unbeliev-
ers as strangers, yea, enemies to God, and
slaves to Satan, held fast in the chains of
their own impenitency and unbelief, and by
these bound over to eternal death, and then
see themselves called to the liberties and dig-
nities of the sons of God, partakers of the
honor of the only-begotten Son, on whom
they have believed, made by him kings and
priests wuto God the Father, then, surely,
they have other thoughts. It makes them no
more envy, but pity the ungodly, and account
all their pomp, and all their possessions,
what they are indeed, no other than a glis-
tening misery, and account themselves happy
in all estates. It makes them say with Da-
vid, The lines have fallen to me in a pleasant
place, I have a goodly heritage. It makes
them digest all their sufferings and disgraces
with patience, yea, with joy, and think more
of praising than complaining, more of show-
ing forth his honor who hath so honored
them; especially when they consider the free-
ness of his grace, that it was that alone which
made the difference, calling them altogether
undeservedly from that same darkness and
jºy in which unbelievers are deservedly
eft.
Now the third thing here to be spoken to,
is, the end of their calling, to show ſº his
praise, &c. And that we may the more
prize the reasonableness of that happy estate
to which God hath exalted them, it is ex-
pressed in other terms; which therefore we
will first consider, and then the end.
To magnify the grace of God the more, we
have here, 1. Both the terms of this motion
or change—whence and to what it is; 2. The
principle of it, the calling of God.
1. For the terms of this motion: From
darkness. There is nothing more usual, not
only in divine, but in human writings, than
to borrow outward sensible things, to express
things intellectual; and among such expres-
sions there is none more frequent than that
of light and darkness transferred, to signify
the good and the evil estate of man, as some-
times for his outward prosperity or adversity,
but especially for things proper to his mind.
The mind is called light, because the seat of
truth, and truth is most fitly called light,
being the chief beauty and ornament of the
rational world, as light is of the visible.
And as the light, because of that its beauty,
is a thing very refreshing and comfortable to
them that behold it (as Solomon says, It is
a pleasant thing to see the sun), so is truth a
most delightful thing to the soul that rightly
apprehends it.
This may help us to conceive of the spirit-
ual sense in which it is here taken. The
estate of lost mankind is indeed nothing but
darkness, being destitute of all spiritual truth
and comfort, and tending to utter and ever-
lasting darkness.
And it is so, because by sin the soul is sep-
arate from God, who is the first and highest
light, the primitive truth. As he is light in
himself (as the Apostle St. John tells us, God
is light, and in him there is no darkness at all,
expressing the excellency and purity of his
nature), so he is light relatively to the soul
of man: The Lord is my light, says David,
Psalm xxvii. 1.
And the soul being made capable of divine
light, can not be happy without it. Give it
what other light you will, still it is in dark-
ness, so long as it is without God, he being
the peculiar light and life of the soul. . And
as truth is united with the soul in apprehend-
ing it, and light with the visive faculty, so,
in order that the soul may have God as its
light, it must of necessity be in union with
God. Now sin hath broken that union, and
so cut off the soul from its light, and plunged
it into spiritual darkness.
Hence all that confusion and disorder in
the soul, which is ever the companion of
darkness: Tohu vabohu, as it was at first,
when darkness was on the face of the deep,
Gen. i. 2. Being ignorant of God and our-
selves, it follows that we love not God, be-
cause we know him not ; yea (though we think
it a hard word), we are haters of God ; for
not only doth our darkness import ignorance
of him, but an enmity to him, because he is
light, and we are darkness. And being igno-
rant of ourselves, not seeing our own vile-
ness, because we are in the dark, We are
pleased with ourselves, and having left God,
do love ourselves instead of God. Hence
arise all the wickednesses of our hearts and
lives, which are no other than, instead of
obeying and pleasing God, a continual sacri-
ficing to those gillulim, those base dunghill-
gods, our own lusts. For this, the Apostle
152
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
Paul gives as the root of all evil dispositions,
2 Tim. iii. 2; because, in the first place,
lovers of themselves, therefore covetous, boast-
ers, proud, &c., and lovers of pleasures more
than of God. And this self-love can not sub-
sist without gross ignorance, by which our
minds are so darkened that we can not withal
see what we are; for if we did, it were not
possible but we should be far of another
mind, very far out of loving and liking with
ourselves. Thus our souls being filled with
darkness, are likewise full of uncleanness, as
that goes along too with darkness; they are
not only dark as dungeons, but withal filthy
as dungeons used to be. So, Ephes. iv. 18.
Understandings darkened, alienated from the
life of God ; and therefore, it is added, ver.
19, they give themselves over unto lascivious-
ness, to work all uncleanness with greediness.
Again, in this state they have no light of solid
comfort. Our great comfort here, is not in
anything present, but in hope; now, being
without Christ, and without God, we are with-
out hope. Ephes. ii. 12.
And as the estate whence we are called by
grace is worthily called darkness, so that to
which it calls us deserves as well the name
of light. Christ, likewise, who came to work
our deliverance, is frequently so called in
Scripture; as John i. 9, That was the true
dight, and elsewhere; not only in regard of
his own nature, being God equal with the Fa-
ther, and therefore light, as he is God of God,
and therefore light of light : but relatively
to men, as John i. 4, That life was the light
of men. So he is styled The Word, and the
Wisdom of the Father, not only in regard of
his own knowledge, but as revealing him
unto us. See John i. 18, and 1 Cor. i. 18,
compared with v. 30. And he is styled by
Malachi, ch. iv. 2, The Sun of Righteous-
ness. Now, the sun is not only a luminous
body, but a luminary, giving light unto the
world. Gen. i. 15.
He is our light, opposed to all kind of dark-
ness. He is so, in opposition to the dark
shadows of the ceremonial law, which possi-
bly are here meant, as part of that darkness
from which the apostle writes that these
Jews were delivered also by the knowledge
of Christ: when he came, the day broke and
the shadows flew away. He is our light, as
opposed likewise to the darkness of the Gen-
tile Superstitions and idolatries; therefore
these two are joined by old Simeon, A light
to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of his
people Israel, Luke ii. 34. Anâ to aii who
believe among either, he is light as opposed
to the ignorance, slavery, and misery, of their
natural estate, teaching them by his Spirit
the things of God, and reuniting them with
God, who is the light of the soul. I am, says
he, the light of the world 3 he that followeth
me shall not walk in darkness. John viii. 12.
And it is that mysterious union of the soul
with God in Christ, which a natural man so
little understands, that is the cause of all
that spiritual light of grace, that a believer
does enjoy. There is no right knowledge of
God, to man once fallen from it, but in his
Son ; no comfort , in beholding God, but
through him ; nothing but just anger and
wrath to be seen in God's looks, but through
him, in whom he is well pleased. The gospel
shows us the light of the knowledge of the
glory of God, but it is in the face of Jesus
Christ. 2 Cor. iv. 6. Therefore, the king-
dom of light, as opposed to that of darkness,
is called the kingdom of his dear Son, or, the
Son of his love. Col. i. 13.
There is a spirit of light and knowledge
flows from Jesus Christ into the souls of be-
lievers, that acquaints them with the myste-
ries of the kingdom of God, which can not
otherwise be inown. And this spirit of
knowledge is withal a spirit of holiness ; for
purity and holiness are likewise signified by
this light. He removed that huge dark body
of sin that was between us and the Father,
and eclipsed him from us. The light of his
countenance sanctifieth by truth : it is a light
that hath heat with it, and hath influence
upon the affections, warms them toward God
and Divine things. This darkness here is in-
deed the shadow of death, and they that are
without Christ, are said, till he visit them, to
sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
Luke i. 79; so, this Light is life, John i. 4;
it doth enlighten and enliven, begets new ac-
tions and motions in the soul. The right no-
tion that a man hath of things as they are,
works upon him, and stirs him accordingly ;
thus this light discovers a man to himself, and
lets him see his own natural filthiness, makes
him loath himself, and fly from himself—run
out of himself. And the excellency he sees
in God and his Son Jesus Christ, by this new
light, inflames his heart with their love, fills
him with estimation of the Lord Jesus, and
makes the world, and all things in it that he
esteemed before, base and mean in his eyes.
Then from this light arise spiritual joy and
comfort, which are frequently signified by
this expression, as in that verse of the psalm-
ist (the latter clause expounds the former),
Light is sown ſor the righteous, and joy for
the upright in heart. Psal. xcvii. 11. As this
Kingdom of God's dear Son, that is, this king-
dom of light, hath righteousness in it, so it
hath peace and joy in the Holy Ghost. Rom.
xiv. 17. It is a false prejudice the world hath
taken up against religion, that it is a sour mel-
ancholy thing: there is no truly lightsome
comfortable life but it. All others, have they
what they will, live in darkness: and is not
that truly sad and comfortless 3 Would you
think it a pleasant life, though you had fine
clothes, and good diet, never to see the sun,
but still to be kept in a dungeon with them 2
Thus are they who live in worldly bonor
and plenty, but still without God; they are
in continual darkness, with all their enjoy-
ments.
It is true the light of believers is not here
WER. 9..]
153
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
perfect, and therefore neither is their joy per-
fect: it is sometimes overclouded; but the
comfort is this, that it is an everlasting light,
it shall never go out in darkness, as it is said
in Job xviii. 5, the light of the wicked shall ;
and it shall within a while be perfected :
there is a bright morning without a cloud
that shall arise. The saints have not only
light to lead them in their journey, but much
purer light at home, an inheritance in light.
Col. i. 12. The land where their inheritance
lieth, is full of light, and their inheritance it-
self is light; for the vision of God for ever is
that inheritance. That city hath no need of
the sun, nor of the moon, to shine in it, for
the glory of the Lord doth lighten it, and the
Lamb is the light thereof. Rev. xxi. 23. As
we said, that Increated Light is the happi-
ness of the soul, the beginnings of it are our
happiness begun ; they are beams of it sent
from above, to lead us to the fountain and
fulness of it. With thee, says David, is the
#;"; of life, and in thy light shall we see
ight. Psal. xxxvi. 9.
There are two things spoken of this Light,
to commend it—His marvellous light , that
it is after a peculiar manner God's, and then,
that it is marvellous.
All light is from him, the light is sense,
and that of reason; therefore he is called the
Father of lights, James i. 17. But this light
of grace is after a peculiar manner his, being
a light above the reach of nature, infused in-
to the soul in a supernatural way, the light
of the elect world, where God specially and
graciously resides. Natural men may know
very much in natural things, and, it may be,
may know much in supernatural things, after
a natural manner. They may be full of school-
divinity, and be able to discourse of God and
his Son Christ, and the mystery of redemp-
tion, &c., and yet, they want this peculiar
light, by which Christ is made known to be-
lievers. They may speak of him, but it is in
the dark; they see him not, and therefore they
love him not. The light they have is as the
light of some things that shine only in the
might, a cold glow-worm light that hath no
heat with it at all. Whereas a soul that hath
some of this light, God’s peculiar light, com-
municated to it, sees Jesus Christ, and loves
and delights in him, and walks with him. A
little of this light is worth a great deal, yea,
more worth than all that other common, spec-
ulative, and discoursing knowledge that the
greatest doctors can attain unto. It is of a
more excellent kind and original: it is from
Heaven, and you know that one beam of the
sun is of more worth than the light of ten
thousand torches together. It is a pure, un-
decaying, heavenly light, whereas the other
is gross and earthly (be it never so great), and
lasts but a while. Let us not therefore think
it incredible, that a poor unlettered Christian
may know more of God in the best kind of
knowledge, than any the wisest and most
learned natural man can do; for the one
|
knows God only by man's light, the other
knows him by his own light, and that is the
only right knowledge. As the sun can not
be seen but by its own light, so neither can
God be savingly known, but by his own re-
vealing.
Now this light being so peculiarly God's,
no wonder if it be marvellous. The common
light of the world is so, though, because of
of its commonness, we think not so of it. The
Lord is marvellous in wisdom, and in power
in all his works of creation and providence;
but above all, in the workings of his grace.
This light is unknown to the world, and so
marvellous in the rareness of beholding it,
that there be but a few that partake of it.
And to them that see, it is marvellows ; be-
cause in it they see so many excellent things
that they knew not before; as if a man were
born and brought up, till he came to the years
of understanding, in a dungeon, where he had
never seen light, and were brought forth on a
Sudden ; or, not to need that imagination, take
the man that was born blind, at his first sight,
after Christ had cured him—what wonder,
think we, would seize upon him, to behold
on a sudden the beauty of this visible world,
especially of that sun, and that light that
makes it both visible and beautiful But
much more matter of admiration is there in
this light, to the soul that is brought newly
from the darkness of corrupt nature | Such
persons see as it were a new world, and in it
such wonders of the rich grace and love of
God, such matchless worth in Jesus Christ,
the Sun of Righteousness, that their souls are
filled with admiration. And if this light of
grace be so marvellous, how much more mar-
ºf shall the light of glory be in which it
ends !
Hence, 1. Learn to esteem highly of the
gospel, in which this light shines unto us:
the apostle calls it, therefore, The glorious
gospel, 2 Cor. iv. 4. Surely we have no cause
to be ashamed of it, but of ourselves, that we
are so unlike it.
2. Think not, you who are grossly ignorant
of God, and his Son Christ, and the mysteries
of Salvation, that you have any portion as yet
in his grace; for the first character of his re-
newed image in the soul, as it was his first
work in the material world, is light. What
avails it us to live in the noonday light of the
gospel, if our hearts be still shut against it,
and so within we be nothing but darkness 2—
as a house that is close shut up, and hath no
entry for light, though it is day without, still
it is night within.
3. Consider your delight in the works of
darkness, and be afraid of that great condem-
nation, This is the condemnation of the world,
that light is come into it, and men love dark-
ness rather than light. John iii. 19.
4. You that are indeed partakers of this
happy change, let your hearts be habitations
of light. Have no fellowship with the un-
fruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove
154
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
them. Eph. v. 11. Study much to increase in
spiritual light and knowledge, and withal in
holiness and obedience; if your light be this
light of God, truly spiritual light, these will
accompany it. Consider the rich love of God,
and account his light marvellous, as in itself,
so in this respect, that he hath bestowed it on
you. And seeing you were once darkness, but
now are light in the Lord, I beseech you—
nay, the apostle, and in him the Spirit of God,
beseeches you, Walk as children of the light,
Eph. v. 8.
But to proceed to speak to the other parts
of this verse, as to the principle of this change,
the calling of God.
It is known and confessed to be a chief
point of wisdom in a man, to consider what
he is, from whom he hath that his being, and
to what end. When a Christian hath thought
on this in his natural being, as he is a man,
he hath the same to consider over again of
his spiritual being, as he is a Christian, and
So a new creature. And in this notion, all
the three are very clearly represented to him in
these words: 1. What he is, first, by these titles
of dignity in the first words of this verse; and
again, by an estate of light in the last clause
of it. 2. Whence a Christian hath this ex-
cellent being is very clearly expressed here,
He hath called you. That God who is the
author of all kind of being, hath given you
this, called you from darkness to his marvel-
dows light. If you be a chosen generation, it
is he that hath chosen. you (ch. i. 2.) If you
be a royal priesthood, you know that it is he
that hath anointed you. If a holy nation, he
hath sanctified you. (John xvii. 17.) If a pe-
culiar or purchased people, it is he that hath
bought you. (1 Cor. vi. 20.) All are included
in this calling, and they are all one thing.
3. To what end—to show forth his praises.
Of the first of these, in all the several expres-
Sions of it, we have spoken before; now are
to be considered the other two.
He hath called you..] Those who live in
the society, and profess the faith of Chris-
tians, are called unto light, the light of the
gospel that shines in the church of God. Now
this is no small favor and privilege, while
many people are left in darkness and in the
shadow of death, to have this light arise upon
us, and to be in the region of it, the church,
the Goshen of the world; for by this outward
light we are invited to this happy state of
Saving inward light, and the former is here
to be understood as the means of the latter.
These Jews who were called to the profession
of the Christian faith, to whom our apostle
writes, were even in that respect called unto
a light hidden from the rest of their nation,
and from many other nations in the world;
but because the apostle doth undoubtedly de-
scribe here the lively spiritual state of true
believers, therefore this calling doth further
import the effectual work of conversion, ma-
king the daylight of salvation, not only with-
Out, but within them, the day-star to arise in
their hearts, as he speaks, 2 Eph. i. 19. When
the sun is arisen, yet if a man be lying fast
in a dark prison, and in a deep sleep too, it is
not day to him ; he is not called to light, tiłł
some One open the doors and awake him, and
bring him forth to it. This God doth, in the
calling here meant. That which is here
termed Calling, in regard of the way of God's
working with the soul, is, in regard of the
power of it, called a rescuing and bringing
forth of the soul: so the Apostle St. Paul
speaks of it, Col. i. 13: Delivered from the
power of darkness, and translated to the king-
dom of his dear Son. That delivering and
translating is this calling, and it is from the
power of darkness—a #. power—that
detains the soul captive. As there are chains
of eternal darkness upon damned spirits,
which shall never be taken off, wherein they
are said to be reserved to the judgment of the
great day, so there are chains of spiritual
darkness upon the unconverted Soul, that can
be taken off by no other hand but the pow-
erful hand of God. He calls the sinner to
come forth, and withal causes, by the power
of that his voice, the bolts and fetters to fall
off, and enables the soul to come forth into
the light. It is an operative word that effects
what it bids, as that in the creation, He said,
Let there be light, and it was light, to which
the apostle hath reference, 2 Cor. iv. 6, when
he says, God, who commanded the light to
shine out of darkness, hath shined into your
hearts. God calls man. He works with
him indeed as with a reasonable creature,
but surely he likewise works as himself, as
an Almighty Creator. He works strongly
and sweetly, with an almighty easiness. One
man may call another to this light, and if
there be no more, he may call long enough
to no purpose; as they tell of Mohammed's
miracle that misgave—he called a mountain
to come to him, but it stirred not. But His
call that shakes and removes the mountains,
doth in a way known to himself, turn and
wind the heart which way he pleaseth. The
voice of the Lord is powerful and full of ma-
jesty. Psal. xxix. 4. If he speaks once to the
heart, it can not choose but follow him, and
yet most willingly chooses that. The work-
ings of grace (as oil, to which it is often com-
pared) do insensibly and silently penetrate
and sink into the soul, and dilate themselves
through it. That word of his own calling,
disentangles the heart from all its nets, as it
did the disciples from theirs, to follow Christ.
That call which brought St. Matthew pres-
ently from his receipt of custom, puts off the
heart from all its customs, and receipts too;
makes it reject gains and pleasures, and all
that hinders it, to go after Christ. And it is a
call that touches the soul so as the touch of
Elijah's mantle, that made Elisha follow him.
Go back, said he, for what have I done unto
thee 2 Yet he had done so much, as made
him forsake all to go with him. 1 Kings xix.
20. And this every believer is most ready to
WER. 9..]
155
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
acknowledge, who knows what the rebellion
of his heart was, and what his miserable love
of darkness was, that the gracious, yet mighty
call of God, was what drew him out of it;
and therefore he willingly assents to that
which is the Third thing to be spoken of,
that it becomes him, as being the End of his
Calling, to show forth his praise, who hath
so mercifully, and so powerfully, called him
from so miserable to so happy an estate.
For 1. This is God's end in calling us, to
communicate his goodness to us, that so the
glory of it may return to himself. The highest
agent can not work but for the highest end ;
so that, as the apostle speaks, when God
would confirm his covenant by an oath, he
sware by himself, because he could swear by
no greater, so, in all things, he must be the
end of his own actions, because there is no
greater, nor better end, yea, none by infinite
odds so great, or good. Particularly in the
calling and exalting of a number of lost man-
kind to so great honor and happiness, both
in designing that great work, and in per-
forming it, he aims at the opening up and
declaring of his rich grace, for the glory of
it, as the Apostle St. Paul tells us, once and
again, Ephes. i. 6, 12.
2. As this is God's end, it ought to be ours,
and therefore ours because it is his. And for
this very purpose, both here and elsewhere,
are we put in mind of it, that we may be
true to his end, and intend it with him. This
is his purpose in calling us, and therefore it
is our great duty, being so called—to declare
his praises. All things and persons shall
pay this tribute, even those who are most
unwilling; but the happiness of his chosen
is, that they are active in it, others are pas-
sive only. Whereas the rest have his praise
wrested from them, they do declare it cheer-
fully, as the glorious angels do. As the gos-
pel brings them glad tidings of peace from
God, and declares to them that love and
mercy that is in him, they smother it not, but
answer it; they declare it, and set forth the
glory of it, with their utmost power and skill.
There be in this two things, 1. Not only
that they speak upon all occasions to the ad-
vantage of his grace, but that the frame of
their actions be such as doth tend to the ex-
alting of God. And 2. That in those actions
they do intend this end, or set up this for
their aim.
1. Their words and actions being confor-
mable to that high and holy estate to which
they are called, do commend and praise their
Lord, who hath called them to it. The vir-
tues which are in them, tell us of his vir-
tues, as brooks lead us to their springs.
When a Christian can quietly repose his
trust on God, in a matter of very great diffi-
culty, wherein there is no other thing to stay
him, but God alone, this declares that there
is strength enough in God that bears him up,
that there must be in him that real abun-
dance of goodness and truth that the word
speaks of him. Abraham believed, and gave
lory to God (Rom. iv. 20); this is what a
eliever can do, to declare the truth of God:
he relies on it. He that believes sets to his
seal that God is true. John iii. 33. So, also,
their holiness is for his praise. Men hear
that there is a God who is infinitely holy, but
they can see neither him nor his holiness;
yet, when they perceive some lineaments of
it in the faces of his children, which are in
no others, this may convince them that its
perfection, which must be somewhere, can
be nowhere else than in their heavenly Fa-
ther. When these which are his peculiar
plants, bring forth the fruits of holiness, which
naturally they yielded not, it testifies a su-
pernatural º: of his hand who planted
them, and the more they are fruitful, the
greater is his praise. Herein, says Our Sa-
vior, is your heavenly Father glorified, that
ye bring forth much fruit. John xv. 8. Were
it not for the conscience of this duty to God,
and possibly the necessity of their station
and calling, it may be, some Christian had
rather altogether lock up and keep within
himself any grace he hath, than let it appear
at all, considering some hazards which he
and it run in the discovery ; and, it may be,
could take some pleasure in the world's mis-
takes and disesteem of him. But seeing
both piety and charity require the acting of
graces in converse with men, that which
hypocrisy doth for itself, a real Christian
may and should do for God.
2. The other thing mentioned as making
up this rule, will give the difference; that
not only what we speak and do should be
such as agrees with this end, but that so
speaking and doing, our eye be upon this
end ; that all our Christian conversation be
directly intended by us, not to cry up our
own virtues, but to glorify God, and his virtues
—to declare his praises who hath called us.
Let your light, says our Savior (Matt. v.
16) shine, and shine before men too: that is
not forbidden ; yea, it is commanded, but it
is thus commanded, Let your light so shine
before men, that they seeing your good works
—yourselves as little as may be, your works
more than yourselves (as the sun, gives its
light, and will scarce suffer us to look upon
itself)—may gloriſy—Whom ? You? No,
but—your Father which is in heaven. Let
our light shine, it is given for that purpose,
ut let it shine always to the glory of the
Father of lights. Men that seek themselves,
may share in the same public kind of actions
with you; but let your secret intention (which
God eyes most) sever you. This is the im-
press that a sincere and humble Christian
sets upon all his actions, to the glory of God.
He useth all he hath, especially all his gra-
ces, to his praise who gives all, and is sorry
he hath no more for this use, and is daily
seeking after more, not to bring more esteem
to himself, but more honor to God. It is a
poor booty to hunt after that, namely, an
156
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
airy vain breath of men: the best things in
them, their solidest good, is altogether van-
ity ; how much more that which is lightest
and vainest in them . This is the mind that
is in every Christian, in all his ways to deny
himself, and to be willing to abase himself
to exalt his Master: to be of St Paul’s tem-
per, who regarded not himself at all, honor
or dishonor, prison or liberty, life or death,
content he was with anything, so Christ
might be magnified. Phil. i. 20.
Ånd as every godly mind must be thus af-
fected, so especially the ministers of the gos-
pel, they who are not only called with others
to partake of this marvellous light, but are
in a special manner to hold it forth to others.
How do pure affections become them, and
ardent desires to promote his glory who hath
so called them . A rush for your praise or
dispraise of us; only receive Jesus Christ,
and esteem highly of him, and it is enough.
YWe preach not ourselves, says the apostle,
but Christ Jesus the Lord. 2 Cor. iv. 5.
That is our errand, not to catch either at
base gain or vain applause for ourselves, but
to exalt our Lord Jesus in the hearts of men.
And to those who are so minded, there is a
reward abiding them, of such riches and
honor as they would be very loath to ex-
change for anything to be had among men.
But, in his station, this is the mind of ev-
ery one who loves the Lord Jesus, most
heartily to make a sacrifice of himself, and
all he is and hath—means, and esteem, and
life, and all, to his glory who humbled him-
self so low, to exalt us to these dignities, to
make us kings and priests unto God.
It is most just, seeing we have our crowns
ftom him, and that he hath set them on our
heads, that we take them in our hands, and
throw them down before his throne. All our
graces (if we have any) are his free gift,
and are given as the rich garments of this
spiritual priesthood, only to attire us suita-
bly for this spiritual sacrifice of his praises;
as the costly vesture of the high priest under
the law was not appointed to make him gay
for himself, but to decorate him for his holy
service, and to commend, as a figure of it,
the perfect holiness wherewith our great
high priest, Jesus Christ was clothed. What
good thing have we that is not from the hand
of our good God? And receiving all from
him, and after a special manner spiritual
blessings, is it not reasonable that all we have,
but those spiritual gifts especially, should de-
clare his praise, and his only 2 David doth
not grow big with vain thoughts, and lift him
up himself, because God had lifted up, but
exclaims, I will eartol thee, because thou hast
lifted me up. Psalm xxx. 1. The visible
heavens, and all the beauty and the lights in
them, speak nothing but his glory who fram-
ed them (as the psalmist teacheth us, Psalm
xix. 1); and shall not these spiritual lights,
his called ones, whom he hath made lights so
peculiarly for that purpose, these stars in his
right hand, do it much more ? Oh let it be
thus with us ! The more he gives, be still
the more humble, and let him have the re-
turn of more glory, and let it go entire to
him ; it is all his due ; and in doing thus,
we shall still grow richer; for where he sees
the most faithful servant, who purloins noth-
ing, but improves all to his Master's advan-
tage, surely, him he will trust with most.
And as it is thus both most due to God,
and most profitable for ourselves, in all things
to seek his praises, so it is the most excellent
and generous intent, to have the same thought
with God, the same purpose as his, and to
aim no lower than at his glory: whereas it
is a base poor thing for a man to seek him-
self far below that royal dignity that is here
put upon Christians, and that priesthood join-
ed with it. Under the law, those who were
squint-eyed were incapable of the priesthood;
truly, this squinting out to our own interest,
the looking aside to that, in God's affairs es-
pecially, so deforms the face of the soul, that
it makes it altogether unworthy the honor
of this spiritual priesthood. Oh! this is a
large task, an infinite task. The several
creatures bear their part in this ; the Sun
says somewhat, and moon and stars, yea, the
lowest have some share in it; the very plants
and herbs of the field, speak of God ; and
yet, the very highest and best, yea, all of
them together, the whole concert of heaven
and earth, can not show forth all his praise
to the full. No ; it is but a part, the Small-
est part of that glory which they can reach.
We all pretend to these dignities, in that
we profess ourselves Christians; but if we
have a mind to be resolved of the truth in
this (for many, many are deceived in it!)
we may, by asking ourselves seriously, and
answering truly to these questions: 1st.
Whether are my actions and the course of
my life such as give evidence of the grace of
God, and so speak his praise? If not, Surely
I am not of this number that God hath thus
called and dignified. And this test I fear,
would degrade many. 2dly. If my life be
somewhat regular and Christian-like, yet,
whether do I in it at all, singly and con-
stantly without any selfish or sinister end,
desire and seek the glory of God alone 3
Otherwise, I way be like this chosen généra-
tion, but I am not one of them. And this,
out of doubt, would make the number yet far
less. Well, think on it; it is a miserable
condition, for men either to be grossly stain-
ing and dishonoring the holy religion, they
profess, or, in seeming to serve and honor
God, to be serving and seeking themselves;
it is the way to lose themselves forever. Oh!
it is a comfortable thing to have an upright
mind, and to love God for himself; and love
seeks not its own things. 1 Cor. xiii. 5. They
are truly happy, who make this their work
sincerely, though weakly, to advance the
praises of their God in all things, and who,
finding the great imperfection of their best
WER. 10.]
157
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
diligence in this work here, are still longing to
be in that state where they shall do it better.
VER. 10. Which in time past were not a people, but
are now the people of God; which had not obtained
mercy, but now have obtained mercy.
THE love of God to his children is the great
subject both of his word and of their thoughts,
and therefore it is that his word (the rule of
their thoughts and their whole lives) speaks
so much of that love, to the very end that
they may think much, and esteem highly of
it, and walk answerably to it. This is the
scope of St. Paul's doctrine to the Ephesians,
and the top of his desires for them. See ch.
iii. 17. And this is our apostle's aim here.
As he began the epistle with opposing their
election in heaven to their dispersion on earth,
the same consideration runs through the whole
of it. Here he is representing to them the
great fruit of that love, the happy and high
estate to which they are called in Christ;
that the choosing of Christ and of believers
is as one act, and they as one entire object of
it—one glorious temple, he the foundation
and head corner-stone, and they the edifice;
one honorable fraternity, he the King of
kings and great High Priest, and they like-
wise through him made kings and priests
unto God the Father, a royal priesthood ; he
the light of the world, and they through him
the children of light. Now that this their
dignity, which shines so bright in its own
innate worth, may yet appear the more, the
apostle here sets it off by a double opposition,
first, of the misery under which others are,
and secondly, of that misery under which
they themselves were before their calling.
And this being set on both sides, is as a dark
shadowing round about their happiness here
described, setting off the lustre of it.
Their former misery, expressed in the for-
mer verse by darkness, is here more fully and
plainly set before their view in these words.
They are borrowed from the prophet Hosea,
ch. ii. 23, where (as is usual with the proph-
ets) he is raised up by the Spirit of God,
from the temporal troubles and deliverances
of the Israelites, to consider and foretell that
great restoration wrought by Jesus Christ, in
purchasing a new people to himself, made
up both by Jews and Gentiles who believe;
and therefore the prophecy is fit and appli-
cable to both. So that the debate is alto-
gether needless, whether it concerns the
Jews or Gentiles; for in its spiritual sense,
as relating to the kingdom of Christ, it fore-
tells the making of the Gentiles, who were
not before so, the people of God, and the re-
covery of the Jews likewise, who, by their
apostacies, and the captivities and dispersions
which came upon them as just punishment
of those apostacies, were degraded from the
outward dignities they had as the people of
God, and withal were spiritually miserable
and captives by nature, and so in both re-
spects laid equal with the Gentiles, and stood
as much in need of this restitution as they.
St. Paul useth this passage concerning the
calling of the Gentiles, Rom. ix. 25. And
here, St. Peter writing, as is most probable,
particularly to the dispersed Jews, applies it
to them, as being, in the very reference it
bears to the Jews, truly fulfilled in those
alone who were believers, faith making them
a part of the true Israel of God, to which the
promises do peculiarly belong ; as the Apos-
tle St. Paul argues at large, in the ninth
chapter of his epistle to the Romans.
Their former misery and their present hap-
piness we have here under a double expres-
sion; they were, 1. Not a people ; 2. Desti-
tute of mercy. Not the people of God, says
the prophet; not a people, says our apostle;
being not God's people, they were so base
and miserable as not to be worthy of the
name of a people at all ; as it is taken, Deut.
xxxii. 21. --
There is a kind of being, a life that a soul
hath by a peculiar union with God, and,
therefore, in that sense, the soul without God
is dead, as the body is without the soul.
Eph. ii. 1. Yea, as the body, separated from
the soul, is not only a lifeless lump, but pu-
trefies, and becomes noisome and abomina-
ble, thus the soul, separated from God, is
subject to a more loathsome and vile putre-
faction. See Psal. xiv. 3. So that men who
are yet unbelievers, are not, as the Hebrews
expressed. Multitudes of them are not a
people, but a heap of filthy carcasses. Again;
take our natural misery in the notion of a
captivity, which was the judgment threat-
ened against the Jews, to make them in this
sense not a people ; therefore their captivity
is often spoken of by the prophets as a death,
and their restoration as their resurrection, as
Ezek. xxxvii. And as a captive people is
civilly dead (as they speak), so a soul captive
to sin and the Prince of Darkness is spiritu-
ally dead, wanting happiness and well-being,
which if it never attain, it had better, for
itself, not be at all. There is nothing but
disorder and confusion in the soul without
God, the affections hurrying it away tumul-
tuously.
Thus captive sinners are not ; they are
dead ; they want that happy being that flows
from God to the souls which are united to
himself, and, consequently, they must want
that society and union one with another
which results from the former, results from
the same union that believers have with God,
and the same being that they have in him ;
which makes them truly worthy to be called
a people, and particularly the people of God.
His people are the only people in the world
worthy to be called a people ; the rest are
but refuse and dross. Although in the world's
esteem, which judges by its own rules in fa-
vor of itself, the people of God be as no body,
no people, a company of silly creatures; yea,
we are made, says the great apostle, as the
filth of the world, and the off-scouring of all
158
{CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
things, 1 Cor. iv. 13; yet in his account who
hath chosen them, who alone knows the true
value of things, his people are the only peo-
ple, and all the rest of the world as nothing
in his eyes. He dignifies and beautifies
them, and loves in them that beauty which
he hath given them.
But under that term is comprised, not only
that new being of believers in each one of
them apart, but that tie and union that is
among them as one people, being incorpora-
ted together, and living under the same gov-
ernment and laws, without which a people
are but as the beasts of the field, or the fishes
of the sea, and the creeping things that have
no ruler over them, as the prophet speaks,
Habak. i. 14. That regular living in society
and union in laws and policy makes many
men to be one people; but the civil union of
men in states and kingdoms is nothing com-
parable to the mysterious union of the people
of God with him, and one with another.
That commonwealth hath a firmer union
than all others. Believers are knit together in
Christ as their head, not merely as a civil or
political head ruling them, but as a natural
head enlivening them, giving them all one
life. Men in other societies, though well or-
dered, yet are but as a multitude of trees,
regularly planted indeed, but each hath its
own root; but the faithful are all branches
of one root. Their union is so mysterious,
that it is compared to the very union of
Christ with his Father, as it is indeed the
product of it. John xvii. 21.
People of God..] I will say to them, Thou
art my people, and they shall say, Thou art
my God. Hos. ii. 23. That mutual interest
and possession is the very foundation of all
Our comfort. He is the first chooser; he first
says, My people ; calls them so, and makes
them to be so; and then they say, My God.
It is therefore a relation that shall hold, and
shall not break, because it is founded upon
his choice who changes not. The tenor of
an external covenant with a people (as the
Jews particularly found), is such as may be
broken by man's unfaithfulness, though God
remain faithful and true; but the new cove-
nant of grace makes all sure on all hands,
and can not be broken ; the Lord not only
keeping his own part, but likewise perform-
ing ours in us, and for us, and establishing us,
that as he departs not from us first, so we
shall not depart from him. I will betroth
thee to me for ever. It is an indissoluble
marriage that is not in danger of being bro-
ken either by divorce or death.
My people.] There is a treasure of in-
struction and comfort wrapped up in that
word, not only more than the profane world
can imagine (for they indeed know nothing
at all of it), but more than they who are of
the number of his people are able to conceive
-a deep unfathomable. My people ; they
his portion, and he theirs! He accounts
nothing of all the world beside them, and
they of nothing at all beside him. For them
he continues the world. Many and great are
the privileges of his people, contained in that
great charter, the holy scriptures, and rich is
that land where their inheritance lies; but
all is in this reciprocal, that He is their God.
All his power and wisdom are engaged for
their good. . How great and many soever are
their enemies, they may well oppose this to
all, He is their God. They are sure to be
protected and prospered, and in the end to
have full victory. Happy then is that people
whose God is the Lord.
Which had not obtained mercy.] The mer-
cies of the Lord to his chosen are from ever-
lasting ; yet, so long as his decree of mercy
runs hid, and is not discovered to them in the
effects of it, they are said not to have received,
or obtained mercy. When it begins to act and
work in their effectual calling, then they find
it to be theirs. It was in a secret way mo-
ving forward toward them before, as the sun
after midnight is still coming nearer to us,
though we perceive not its approach till the
dawning of the day.
#. The former word, the people of
God, teaches us how great the change is that
is wrought by the calling of God: this teaches
us, 1, how free it is. The people of God,
that is the good attained in the change: Ob-
tained mercy, that is the spring whence it
flows. This is indeed implied in the words
of the change; of no people—such as have
no right to such a dignity at all, and in them-
selves no disposition for it—to be made his
people, can be owing to nothing but free
grace, such mercy as supposes nothing, and
seeks nothing, but misery in us, and works
upon that. As it is expressed to have been
very free to this people of the Jews, in choos-
ing them before the rest of the world, Deut.
vii. 7, 8, so it is to the spiritual Israel of God,
and to every one particularly belonging to
that company. Why is it that he chooseth
one of a family, and leaves another, but be-
cause it pleaseth him 2 He blots out their
transgressions for his own name's sake. Isa.
xliii. 25. And 2, as it is free mercy, so it is
tender mercy. The word, in the prophets,
signifies tenderness, or bowels of compassion;
and such are the mercies of our God toward
us. See Jer. xxxi. 20; the bowels of a fa-'
ther, as it is Psalm ciii. 13; and if you think
not that tenderness enough, those of a mother,
yea, more than a mother, Isa. xlix. 15. 3. It
is rich mercy ; it delights to glorify itself in
the greatest misery; it pardons as easily the
greatest as the smallest of debts. 4. It is a
constant, unalterable mercy, a stream still
running.
Now in both these expressions the apostle
draws the eyes of believers to reflect on their
former misery, and to view it together with
their present state. This is very frequent in
the scriptures. See Ezek. xvi. ; Eph. xxi. 1;
1 Cor. vi. 11, &c. And it is of very great
use; it works the soul of a Christian to much
WER. 10.]
1.59
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
humility, and love, and thankfulness, and
obedience. It can not choose but ſorce him
to abase himself, and to magnify the free
grace and love of God.' And this may be
One reason why it pleaseth the Lord to sus-
pend the conversion of some persons for many
years of their life, yea, to suffer them to stain
those years with grievous and gross sins, in
order that the riches and glory of his grace,
and the freeness of his choice, may be the more
legible both to themselves and others. Like-
wise those apprehensions of wrath due to sin,
and the sights of hell, as it were, which he
brings some unto, either at or after their con-
version, make for this same end. That glo-
rious description of the New Jerusalem, Rev.
xxi. 16, is abundantly delightful in itself;
and yet, the fiery lake spoken of there makes
all that is spoken of the other sound much
the sweeter.
But, universally, all the godly have this to
consider, that they were strangers and ene-
nies to God, and to think, whence was it
that I, a lump of the same polluted clay with
those who perish, should be taken, and puri-
fied, and moulded by the Lord’s own hand
for a vessel of glory 3 Nothing but free grace
makes the difference ; and where can there
be love, and praises, and service, found to an-
swer this 2 All is to be ascribed to the mer-
cy, gifts, and calling of Christ. And his min-
isters, with St. Paul, acknowledge that be-
cause they have received mercy they faint
not. 2 Cor. iv. 1.
But alas! we neither enjoy the comfort of
this mercy as obtained, nor are grieved for
wanting it, nor stirred up to seek after it, if
not yet obtained. What do we think 2 Seems
it a small thing in your eyes to be shut out
from the presence of God, and to bear the
weight of his wrath for ever, that you thus
slight his mercy, and let it pass by you unre-
garded ? Or shall an imagined obtaining
divert you from the real pursuit of it ! Will
you be willingly deceived, and be your own
deceivers, in a matter of so great importance 2
You can not think too highly of the riches of
divine mercy; it is above all your thoughts;
but remember and consider this, that there
is a peculiar people of his own, to whom
alone all the riches of it do belong. And
therefore, how great soever it is, unless you
find yourselves of that number, you can not
lay claim to the smallest share of it.
And you are not ignorant what is their
character, what a kind of people they are,
who have such a knowledge of God as him-
self gives. They are all taught of God, en-
lightened and sanctified by his Spirit, a holy
people, as he is a holy God: such as have the
riches of that grace by which they are saved,
in most precious esteem, and have their hearts
by it inflamed with his love, and therefore
their thoughts taken up with nothing so much
as studying how they may obey and honor
him ; rather choosing to displease all the
world than offend him, and accounting nothing
too dear, yea, nothing good enough to do him
service. If it be thus with you, then you
have indeed obtained mercy.
But if you be such as can wallow in the
same puddle with the profane world, and take
a share of their ungodly ways, or if, though
your outward carriage be somewhat more
Smooth, you regard uniquity in your hearts,
have your hearts ardent in the love and pur-
suit of the world, but frozen to God ; if you
have some bosom idol that you hide and en-
tertain, and can not find in your heart to part
with some one beioved sin, whatsoever it is,
for all the love that God hath manifested to
man in the Son of his love Jesus Christ ; in
a word, if you can please and delight yourself
in any way displeasing unto God (though his
people, while they are here, have spots, yet
these are not the spots of his people that I
am now speaking of), I can give you no as-
surance that as yet you have obtained mercy:
on the contrary, it is certain that the wrath
of God is yet abiding on you, and if you con-
tinue in this state, you are in apparent danger
of perishing under it. You are yet children
of spiritual darkness, and in the way to utter
and everlasting darkness. Know ye what it
is to be destitute of this mercy 2. It is a woful
state, though you had all worldly enjoyments,
and were at the top of outward prosperity, to
be shut out from the mercy and love of God.
There is nothing doth so kindly work re-
pentance, as the right apprehension of the
mercy and love of God. The beams of that
love are more powerful to melt the heart
than all the flames of Mount Sinai–all the
threatenings and terrors of the law. Sin is
the root of our misery; and therefore it is the
proper work of this mercy, to rescue the soul
from it, both from the guilt and the power of
it at once. Can you think there is any suita-
bleness in it, that the peculiar people of God
should despise his laws, and practise nothing
but rebellions? that those in whom he hath
magnified his mercy, should take pleasure in
abusing it 2 or that he hath washed any with
the blood of his Son, to the end that they may
still wallow again in the mire 2 As if we
were redeemed not from sin, but to sin; as
if we should say, We are delivered to do all
these abominations, as the prophet speaks,
Jer. vii. 10. Ob let us not dare thus abuse
and affront the free grace of God, if we mean
to be saved by it ; but let as many as would be
found among those that obtain mercy walk as
his people, whose peculiar inheritance is his
mercy. And seeing this grace of God hath
appeared unto us, let us embrace it, and let it
effectually teach us to deny ungodliness and
worldly lusts. Tit. ii. 11, 12.
And if you be persuaded to be earnest suiters
for this mercy, and to fly unto Jesus, who is
the true mercy-seat, then be assured it is yours.
Let not the greatest guiltiness scare you and
drive you from it, but rather drive you the
more to it; for the greater the weight of that
misery is under which you lie, the more need
160
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
you have of this mercy, and the more will be
the glory of it in you. It is a strange kind of
argument used by the psalmist, and yet a
sure one,—it concludes well and strongly,
Psal. xxv. 7: Lord pardon my iniquity, for
it is great... The soul oppressed with the
greatness of its sin lying heavy upon it, may,
by that very greatness of it pressing upon it,
urge the forgiveness of it at the hands of free
mercy. It is for thy name's sake, – that
makes it strong; the force of the inference
lies in that. Thou art nothing, and worse
than nothing 2 True; but all that ever ob-
tained this mercy were once so; they were
nothing of all that which it hath made them
to be ; they were not a people, had no interest
in God, were strangers to mercy, yea, heirs
of wrath ; yea, they had not so much of a
desire after God, until this mercy prevented
them, and showed itself to them, and them
to themselves, and so moved them to desire
it, and caused them to find it, caught hold on
them and plucked them out of the dungeon.
And it is unquestionably still the same mercy,
and fails not ; ever expending, and yet never
all spent, yea, not so much as at all dimin-
ished ; flowing, as the rivers, from one age to
another, serving each age in the present, and
yet no whit the less to those that come after.
He who exercises it is The Lord, forgiving
iniquity, transgression, and sin, to all that
come unto him, and yet, still keeping mercy
for thousands that come after.
You have obtained this mercy, and have
the seal of it within you, it will certainly con-
form your hearts to its own nature; it will
work you to a merciful compassionate temper
of mind to the souls of others who have not
yet obtained it. You will indeed, as the
Lord doth, hate sin ; but, as he doth, like-
wise, you will pity the sinner. You will be
so far from misconstruing and grumbling at
the long suffering of God (as if you would have
the bridge cut because you are over, as St.
Augustine speaks), that, on the contrary, your
great desire will be to draw others to partake
of the same mercy with you, knowing it to
be rich enough : and you will, in your station,
use your best diligence to bring in many to it,
from love both to the souls of men and to the
glory of God.
And withal, you will be stillsadmiring and
extolling this mercy, as it is manifested unto
yourselves, considering what it is, and what
you were before it visited you. The Israel-
ites confessed (at the offering of the first
fruits), to set off the bounty of God, A Syrian
ready to perish was my father; they confessed
their captivity in Egypt; but far poorer and
baser is our natural condition, and far more
precious is that land, to the possession of
which this free mercy bringeth us.
Do but call back your thoughts, you that
have indeed escaped it, and look but into that
pit of misery whence the hand of the Lord
hath drawn you out, and you can not fail to
love him highly, and still kiss that gracious
hand, even while it is scourging you with
any affliction whatsoever; because it hath
once done this for you, namely, pluſ.ked you
out of everlasting destruction. So David,
Psal. xl. 23, as the thoughts of this change
will teach us to praise, He hath brought me
up out of a horrible pit : then follows—He
hath put a new song in my mouth, even
praise unto our God ; not only redeemed me
from destructian, but withal crowned me
with glory and honor. Psal.ciii. 4. He not
only doth forgive all our debts, and let us out
of prison, but enriches us with an estate that
can not be spent, and dignifies us with a
crown that can not wither, made up of noth-
ing of ours. These two considerations will
stretch and tune the heart very high, namely,
from what a low estate grace brings a man,
and how high it doth exalt him ; in what a
beggarly, vile condition the Lord finds us,
and yet, that he doth not only free us thence,
but puts such dignities on us. He raises up
the poor out of the dust, and lifts the needy
out of the dunghill, that he may set him with
princes, even with the princes of his people.
Psal. cxiii. 7. Or, as Joshua the priest was
stripped of his filthy garments, and had a fair
mitre set upon his head (Zech. iii, 3–5), so,
those of this priesthood are dealt withal.
Now, that we may be the deeper in the
sense and admiration of this mercy, it is in-
deed our duty to seek earnestly after the evi-
dence and strong assurance of it; for things
work on us according to our notice and ap-
prehension of them, and therefore, the more
right assurance we have of mercy, the more
love, and thankfulness, and obedience, will
spring from it. Therefore it is, that the
apostle here represents this great and happy
change of estate to Christians as a thing that
they may know concerning themselves, and
that they ought to seek the knowledge of,
that so they may be duly affected with it.
And it is indeed a happy thing, to have in
the soul an extract of that great archive and
act of grace toward it, that hath stood in
heaven from eternity. It is surely both a
very comfortable and very profitable thing to
find and to read clearly the seal of mercy
upon the soul, which is holiness, that by
which a man is marked by God, as a part of
his peculiar possession that he hath chosen
out of the world. And when we perceive
anything of this, let us look back, as here the
apostle would have us to do, and reflect how
God has called us from darkness to his mar-
vellous light.
VER. 11. Dearly beloved, I beseech you, as strangers'
and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts, which war |
against the soul.
THE right spiritual knowledge that a Chris-
tian hath of God and of himself, differenceth
itself from whatsoever is likest to it, by the
power and influence it hath upon the heart
and life. And in this, it hath the lively im-
pression of that doctrine of the Holy Scrip-
tures, that teaches it; wherein we still find
WER. 11.]
161
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
throughout, that the high mysteries of reli-
gion are accompanied with practical truths,
which not only agree with them, but are
drawn out of them, and not violently drawn,
but naturally flowing from them, as pure
streams from a pure spring. Thus, in this
epistle, we find the apostle intermixing his
divine doctrine with most useful and practi-
cal exhortations, ch. i. 13, 22 : and in the be-
ginning of this chapter again: and now in
these words.
And upon this model ought both the min-
isters of the gospel to form their preaching,
and the hearers their ear. Ministers are not
to instruct only, but do both. To exhort men
to holiness and the duties of a Christian life,
without instructing them in the doctrine of
faith, and bringing them to Jesus Christ, is
to build a house without a foundation. And,
on the other side, to instruct the mind in the
knowledge of Divine things, and neglect the
pressing of that practice and power of godli-
ness, which is the undivided companion of
true faith, is to forget the building that Ought
to be raised upon that foundation once laid,
which is likewise a point of very great folly.
Or, if men, after laying that right founda-
tion, do proceed to the superstructure of vain
and empty speculations, it is but to build hay
and stubble, instead of those solid truths that
direct the soul in the way to happiness,
which are of more solidity and worth than
gold and silver, and precious stones. 1 Cor.
iii. 12. Christ, and the doctrine that reveals
him, is called by St. Paul, the mystery of the
faith, 1 Tim. iii. 9, and ver. 16, the mystery
of godliness : as Christ is the object of faith,
so is he the spring and fountain of godliness.
The apostle having, we see, in his foregoing
discourse unfolded the excellency of Christ in
him, proceeds here to exhort them to that
pure and spiritual temper of mind and course
of life that becomes them as Christians.
Those hearers are to blame, and do preju-
dice themselves, who are attentive only to
such words and discourses as stir the affec-
tions for the present, and find no relish in the
doctrine of faith, and the unfolding of those
mysteries that bear the whole weight of reli-
gion, being the ground both of all Christian obe-
dience, and all exhortations and persuasives to
it. Those temporary, sudden stirrings of the
affections, without a rightly informed mind,
and some measure of due knowledge of God
in Christ, do no good. It is the wind of a
word of exhortation that stirs them for the
time against their lusts, but the first wind of
temptation that comes carries them away :
and thus the mind is but tossed to and fro,
like a wave of the sea, with all kinds of
winds, not being rooted and grounded in the
faith of Christ (as it is Col. ii.7), and so,
not rooied in the love of Christ (Eph. iii.,17),
which are the conquering graces that subdue
unto a Christian his lusts and the world. See
1 John v. 4; 2 Cor. v. 14, 15. Love makes
a man to be dead to himself, and to the
world, and to live to Christ who died for
him. On the other part, they are no less, yea,
more to blame, who are glad to have their
minds instructed in the mysteries of the Chris-
tian faith, and out of a natural desire to
know, are curious to hear such things as in-
form them; but when it comes to the urging
of holiness and mortifying their lusts, these
are hard sayings—they had rather there
were some way to receive Christ and retain
their lusts too, and to bring them to agree-
ment. To hear of the mercies of God, and
the dignities of his people in Christ, is very
pleasing; but to have this follow upon it, Ab-
stain from fleshly lusts, this is an importune
troublesome discourse. But it must be so for
all that: those who will share in that mercy
and happiness must abstain from fleshly lusts.
Dearly beloved, I beseech you..] There is
a faculty of reproving required in the minis-
try, and sometimes a necessity of very sharp
rebukes—cutting ones. They who have much
of the spirit of meekness, may have a rod by
them too, to use upon necessity. 1 Cor. iv.
21. But Surely the way of meekness is that
they use most willingly, as the apostle there
implies; and out of all question, with ingen-
uous minds, the mild way of sweet entrea-
ties is very forcible; as oil that penetrates
and sinks in insensibly, or (to use that known
resemblance) they prevail as the sun-beams,
which, without any noise, made the traveller
cast his cloak, which all the blustering of the
wind could not do, but made him rather
gather it closer, and bind it faster about him.
We see the apostles are frequent in this
strain of entreaties, I beseech you, as Rom.
xii. 1. Now this word of entreaty is strength-
ened much by the other, Dearly beloved.
Scarcely can the harshest reproofs, much less
gentle reproofs, be thrown back, that have
upon, them the stamp of love. That which
is known to come from love can not readily
but be so received too. And it is thus ex-
pressed for that very purpose, that the re-
quest may be the more welcome: Beloved.
It is the advice of a friend, one that truly
loves you, and aims at nothing in it but your
good. It is because I love you, that I en-
treat you, and entreat you as you love your-
selves, to abstain from fleshly lusts that war
war against your souls. And what is our
purpose when we exhort you to believe and
repent, but that you may be happy in the
forgiveness of your sins ? Why do we desire
you to embrace Christ, but that through him
ye may have everlasting life 2 Howsoever
you take these things, it is our duty inces-
santly to put you in mind of them; and to do
it with much love and tenderness of affection
to your souls; not only pressing you by fre-
quent warnings and exhortings, but also by
frequent prayers and tears for your salvation.
Abstain.] It was a very wise abridgment
that Epictetus made of philosophy, into those
two words, Bear and forbear. These are
truly the two main duties that our apostle
21
162
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
recommends to his Christian brethren in this
epistle. It is one and the same strength of
spirit, that raises a man above both the trou-
bles and pleasures of the world, and makes
him despise and trample upon both.
We have first, briefly to explain what these
fleshly lusts mean ; then to consider the ex-
hortatation of abstaining from them.
Unchaste desires are particularly called by
this name indeed, but to take it for these
only in this place, is doubtless too narrow.
That which seems to be the true sense of it
here, takes in all undue desires and use of
earthly things, and all the corrupt affections
of our carnal minds.
Now in that sense, these fleshly lusts com-
prehend a great part of the body of sin. All
those three which St. John speaks of, 1 Epis.
ii. 16, the world's accursed trinity, are inclu-
ded under this name here of fleshly lusts. A
crew of base, imperious masters they are, to
which the natural man is a slave, serving di-
vers lusts. Tit. iii. 3. Some are more addicted
to the service of one kind of lust, some to that
of another; but all are in this unhappy, that
they are strangers, yea, enemies to God, and, as
the brute creatures, servants to their flesh;-
either covetous, like the beasts of the field,
with their eyes still upon the earth, or volup-
tuous, swimming in pleasures, as fishes in the
sea, or like the fowls of the air, soaring in
vain ambition. All the strifes that are raised
about these things, all malice and envyings,
all bitterness and evil-speaking (Eph. iv. 31),
which are works of the flesh, and tend to the
satisfying of its wicked desires, we are here
entreated to abstain from.
To abstain from these lusts is to hate and
fly from the very thoughts and first motions
of them : and if surprised by these, yet to
kill them there, that they bring not forth ;
and to suspect ourselves even in those things
that are not sinful, and to keep afar off from
all inducements to those polluted ways of sin.
In a word, we are to āşi. not only from
the serving of our flesh in things forbidden,
as unjust gain or unlawful pleasures, but also
from immoderate desire of, and delighting in,
any earthly thing, although it may be in
itself lawfully, yea, necessarily in some de-
gree, desired and used. Yea, to have any
feverish, pressing thirst after gain, even just
gain, or after earthly delights, though lawful,
is to be guilty of those fleshly lusts, and a
thing very unbeseeming the dignity of a
Christian. To see them that are clothed in
scarlet embracing a dunghill (Lam. iv. 4) is a
strange sight. Therefore the apostle having
so cleared that immediately before, hath the
better reason to require this of them, that
they abstain from fleshly lusts.
Let their own slaves serve them : you are
redeemed and delivered from them, a free
people, yea, kings; and suits it with royal
dignity to obey vile lusts 3 You are priests
consecrated to God, and will you tumble
jourselves and your precious garments in the
mire ? It was a high speech of a heathen,
That he was greater, and born to greater
things, than to be a servant to his body. How
much more ought he that is born again to
say so, being born heir to a crown that fadeth
not away /
Again, as the honor of a Christian's estate
is far above this baseness of serving his lusts,
so the happiness and pleasantness of his es-
tate set him above the need of the pleasures
of sin. The apostle said before, If ye have
tasted that the Lord is gracious desire the
sincere milk of the word—desire that word
wherein ye may taste more of his gracious-
ness. And as that exhortation fitly urgeth
the appetite's desire of the word, so it strongly
persuades to this abstinence from fleshly lusts;
yea, to the disdain and loathing of them. If
you have the least experience of the sweetness
of his love, if you have but tasted of the crys-
tal river of his pleasures, the muddy puddle-
pleasures of sin will be hateful and loathsome
to you; yea, the very best earthly delights
will be disrelished, and will seem unsavory
to your taste. The embittering of the breasts
of the world to the godly by afflictions doth
something indeed toward weaning them from
them ; but the breasts of consolation that are
given them in their stead wean much more
effectually.
The true reason why we remain servants
to these lusts, some to one, some to another,
is, because we are still strangers to the love
of God, and those pure pleasures that are in
him. Though the pleasures of the earth be
poor and low, and most unworthy our pur-
suit, yet so long as men know no better, they
will stick by those they have, such as they
are. The philosopher gives this as the rea-
son why men are so much set upon sensual
delights, because they know not the higher
pleasures that are proper to the soul; and
they must have it some way. It is too often
in vain to speak to men in this strain, to fol-
low them with the apostle's entreaty, I be-
seech you, abstain from fleshly lusts, unless
they who are spoken to be such as he speaks
of in the former words, such as have obtained
mercy, and have tasted of the graciousness
and love of Christ, whose loves are better
than wine. Cant. i. 2. Oh that we would
seek the knowledge of this love for, seeking
it, we should find it ; and finding it, there
would need no force to pull the delights of
sin out of our hands; we should throw them
away of our own accord.
Thus a carnal mind prejudices itself against
religion, when it hears that it requires an ab-
stinence from fleshly lusts, and bereaves men
of their mirth and delight in sin ; but they
know not that it is to make way for more re-
fined and precious delights. There is noth-
ing of this kind taken from us, but by a very
advantageous exchange it is made up. In the
world ye shall have affliction, but in me ye
shall have peace. Is not want of the world's
peace abundantly paid with peace in Christ 2
VER. 11.]
163
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
Thus, fleshly lusts are cast out of the hearts
of believers as rubbish and trash, to make
room for spiritual comforts. We are barred
jellowship with the unfruitful works of dark-
ness, to the end that we may have fellowship
with God and his Son Jesus Christ, 1 John i.
3, 7. This is to make men eat angels' food
undeed, as was said of the manna. The serv-
ing of the flesh sets man below himself, down
among the beasts; but the consolations of the
Spirit, and communion with God, raise him
above himself and associate him with the an-
gels. But let us speak to the apostle's own
dissuasives from these lusts, taken, 1. From
the condition of Christians; 2. From the con-
dition of those lusts.
1. From the condition of Christians: As
strangers. These dispersed Jews were stran-
gers scattered in divers countries, ch. i. 1, but
that is not intended here; they are called
strangers in that spiritual sense which ap-
plies in common to all the saints. Possibly,
in calling them thus, he alludes to the out-
ward dispersion, but means, by the allusion,
to express their spiritual alienation from the
world, and interest in the New Jerusalem.
And this he uses as a very pertinent en-
forcement of his exhortation. "Whatsoever
others do, the serving of the flesh and love of
the world are most incongruous and unseem-
ly in you. Consider what you are. If you
were citizens of this world, then you might
ilrive the same trade with them, and follow
the same lusts; but seeing you are chosen
and called out of this world, and invested into
a new society, made free of another city, and
are therefore here but travellers passing
through to your own country, it is very rea-
sonable that there be this difference between
you and the world, and while they live as at
home, your carriage be such as becomes stran-
gers; not glutting yourselves with their pleas-
ures, not surfeiting upon their delicious fruits,
as some unwary travellers, do abroad, but as
wise strangers, living warily and soberly, and
still minding most of all your journey home-
ward, suspecting dangers and snares in your
way, and so walking with holy fear (as the
Hebrew word for stranger imports).
There is, indeed, a miserable party even
within a Christian—the remainder of corrup-
tion—that is no stranger here, and therefore
keeps friendship and correspondence with the
world, and will readily betray him if he
watch not the more. So that he is not only
to fly the pollutions of the world that are
round about him, and to choose his steps that
he be not ensnared from without, but he is to
be upon a continual guard against the lusts
and corruption that are yet within himself,
to curb and control them, and give them res-
olute and flat refusals when they solicit him,
and to stop up their essays and opportunities
of intercourse with the world, and such things
as nourish them, and so to do what he can to
starve them out of the holds they keep with-
in him, and to strengthen that new nature
which is in him; to live and act according to
it, though, in doing so, he shall be sure to
live as a stranger here, and a despised, mock-
ed, and hated stranger.
And it is not, on the whole, the worse that
it should be so. If men in foreign countries
be subject to forget their own at any time, it
is surely when they are most kindly used
abroad, and are most at their ease; and thus
a Christian may be in some danger when he
is best accommodated, and hath most of the
smiles and caresses of the world ; so that
though he can never wholly forget his home
that is above, yet his thoughts of it will be
less frequent, and his desires of it less ear-
nest, and, it may be, he may insensibly slide
into its customs and habits, as men will do
that are well seated in some other country.
But by the troubles and unfriendliness of the
world he gains this, that when they abound
most upon him he then feels himself a stran-
ger, and remembers to behave as such, and
thinks often with much delight and strong
desires on his own country, and the rich and
sure inheritance that lies there, and the
ease and rest he shall have when he comes
thither.
And this will persuade him strongly to fly
all polluted ways and lusts as fast as the world
follows them. It will make him abhor the
pleasures of sin, and use the allowable enjoy-
ments of this earth warily and moderately,
never engaging his heart to them as world-
lings do, but always keeping that free—free
from that earnest desire in the pursuit of
worldly things, and that deep delight in the
enjoyment of them, which the men of the
earth bestow upon them. There is a dili-
gence in his calling, and a prudent regard of
his affairs, not only permitted to a Christian,
but required of him. But yet, in comparison
of his great and high calling (as the apostle
terms it), he follows all his other business
with a kind of coldness and indifferency, as
not caring very much which way they go;
his heart is elsewhere. The traveller pro-
vides himself as he can with entertainment
and lodgings where he comes ; if it be com-
modious, it is well; but if not, it is no great
matter. If he find but necessaries, he can
abate delicacies very well ; for where he finds
them in his way, he neither can, nor if he
could, would choose to stay there. Though
his inn were dressed with the richest hang-
ings and furniture, yet it is not his home; he
must and would leave it. This is the charac-
ter of ungodly men, they mind earthly things,
Phil. iii. 19 ; they are drowned in them over
head and ears, as we say.
If Christians would consider how little, and
for how little a while, they are concerned in
anything here, they would go through any
state and any changes of state, either to the
better or the worse, with very composed,
equal minds, always moderate in their neces-
sary cares, and never taking any care at all for
the flesh, to fulfil the lusts of it. Rom. xiii. 14.
164
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
Let them that have no better home than
this world to lay claim to, live here as at
home, and serve their lusts; they that have
all their portion in this life—no more good to
look for than what they can catch here—let
them take their time of the poor profits and
pleasures that are here; but you that have
your whole estate, all your riches and pleas-
ures, laid up in heaven, and reserved there for
Jou, let your hearts be there, and your con-
versation there. This is not the place of
your rest, nor of your delights, unless you
would be willing to change, and to have your
good .# here, as some foolish travellers,
who spend the estate they should live on at
home, in a little while, braving it abroad
among strangers. Will you, with profane
Esau, sell your birthright for a mess of pot-
tage—sell eternity for a moment, and, for a
moment, sell such pleasures as a moment of
them is more worth than an eternity of the
other ?
2. The apostle argues from the condition
of those lusts. It were quarrel enough against
jleshly lusts, which war against the soul, that
they are so far below the soul, that they can
not content, no, nor at all reach the soul ;
they are not a suitable, much less a satisfy-
ing good to it. Although sin hath unspeak-
ably abused the soul of man, yet its excellent
nature and original does still cause a vast dis-
proportion between it and all those gross base
things of the earth which concern the flesh,
and go no further. But this is not all : these
fleshly lusts are not only of no benefit to the
soul, but they are its pernicious enemies—
they war against it. And their war against
it is all made up of stratagem and sleight;
for they can not hurt the soul but by itself.
They promise it some contentment, and so
gain its consent to serve them, and undo it-
self. They embrace the soul that they may
strangle it. The soul is too much diverted
from its own proper business by the inevita-
ble and incessant necessities of the body; and
therefore it is the height of injustice and cru-
elty to make it likewise serve the extrava-
gant and sinful desires of the flesh: so much
time for sleep, and so much for eating and
drinking, and dressing and undressing; and
by many, the greatest part of the time that
remains, is spent in laboring and providing
for these. Look on the employments of most
men: all the labor of the husbandmen in the
country, and of the tradesmen in the city, the
multitude of shops and callings, what is the
end of them all, but the interest and service
of the body ? And in all these the immortal
Soul is drawn down to drudge for the mortal
body, the house of clay wherein it dwells.
And in the sense of this, those souls that truly
know and consider themselves in this condi-
tion, do often groan under the burden, and de-
sire the day of their deliverance. But the
service of the flesh in the inordinate lusts of
it is a point of far baser slavery and indignity
to the soul, and doth not only divert it from
spiritual things for the time, but habitually
indisposes it to every spiritual work, and
makes it earthly and sensual, and so unfits it
for heavenly things. Where these lusts, or
any one of them, have dominion, the soul can
not at all perform any good ; can neither pray,
nor hear, nor read the word aright; and in so
far as any of them prevail upon the soul of a
child of God, they do disjoint and disable it
for holy things. Although they be not of the
grossest kind of lusts, but such things as are
scarcely taken notice of in a man, either by
others or by his own conscience, some irregu-
lar desires or entanglements of the heart, yet,
these little fores will destroy the vines (Cant.
ii. 15); they will prey upon the graces of a
Christian, and keep them very low. There-
fore it concerns us much to study our hearts,
and to be exact in calling to account the sev-
eral affections that are in them ; otherwise,
even such as are called of God, and have ob-
tained mercy (for such the apostle speaks to),
may have such lusts within them as will
much abate the flourishing of their graces
and the spiritual beauty of the soul.
The godly know it well in their sad expe-
rience, that their own hearts do often deceive
them, harboring and hiding such things as
deprive them much of that liveliness of grace,
and those comforts of the Holy Ghost, that oth-
erwise they would bevery likely to attain unto.
This warring against the soul, which
means their mischievous and hurtful nature,
hath this also included under it, that these
lusts, as breaches of God's law, do subject
the soul to his wrath. So that by this, the
apostle might well urge his point, “Besides
that these lusts are unworthy of you, the truth
is, if you Christians serve your lusts, you kill
your souls.” So Rom. viii. 13.
Consider, when men are on their deathbeds,
and near their entering into eternity, what
they then think of all their toiling in the
earth, and serving of their own hearts and
lusts in any kind ; when they see that of all
these ways nothing remains to them but the
guiltiness of their sin, and the accusations of
conscience, and the wrath of God.
Oh that you would be persuaded to es-
teem your precious souls, and not wound
them as you do, but war for them, against all
those lusts that war against them. The soul
of a Christian is doubly precious, being, be-
side its natural excellency, ennobled by grace,
and so twice descended of Heaven: and there-
fore it deserves better usage than to be turned
into a scullion to serve the flesh. The ser-
vice of Jesus Christ is that which alone is
fitting to it: it is alone honorable for the soul
to serve so high a lord, and its service is due
only to him who bought it at so high a rate.
VER. 12. Having your conversation honest among the
Gentiles, that whereas they speak against you as
evil doers, they may, by your good works, which
they shall behold, glorify God in the day of visita.
tion.
THESE two things that a natural man makes
WER. 12.]
165
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
least account of, are of all things in highest
regard with a Christian, his own soul and
God's glory: so that there be no stronger per-
suasives to him in anything than the interest
of these two. And by these the apostle ur-
geth his present exhortation to holiness and
blamelessness of life. For the substance of
his advice or request in this and the former
verse is the same: a truly honest conversation
is that only which is spiritual, not defiled
with the carnal lusts and pollutions of the
world.
The abstaining from those lusts doth indeed
comprehend, not only the rule of outward
carriage, but the inward temper of the mind;
whereas this honest conversation doth more
expressly concern our external deportment
among men ; as it is added, honest among
the Gentiles, and so tending to the glory of
God. So that these two are inseparably to
be regarded, the inward disposition of our
hearts, and the outward conversation and
course of our lives.
I shall speak to the former first, as the
spring of the latter. Keep thine heart with
all diligence,—all depends upon that—for
thence are the issues of life. Prov. iv. 23.
And if so, then the regulating of the tongue,
and eyes, and feet, and all will follow, as
there it follows, v. 24: Put away from thee
a froward mouth. That the impure streams
may cease from running, the corrupt spring
must be dried up. Men may convey them in a
close and concealed manner, making them run,
as it were under ground, as they do filth un-
der vaults and in ditches (sentinas et cloacas);
but till the heart be renewed and purged from
base lusts it will still be sending forth, some
way or other, the streams of iniquity. As a
fountain swelleth out, or casteth forth her
waters incessantly, so she casteth out her wick-
edness, says the prophet, of that very people
and city that were called holy, by reason of
the ordinances of God and the profession of
the true religion that were among them: and
therefore it is the same prophet's advice from
the Lord, Wash thine heart, O Jerusalem.
How long shall thy vain thoughts lodge within
thee & Jer. vi. 7, and iv. 14.
This is the true method according to our
Savior’s doctrine : make the tree good, and
then the fruits will be good; not till then ; for
who can gather grapes of thorns, or figs of
thistles & Matt. vii. 16, 17. Some good out-
ward actions avail nothing, the soul being un-
renewed; as you may stick some figs, or hang
Some clusters of grapes, upon a thorn-bush,
but they can not grow upon it.
In this men deceive themselves, even such
as have some thoughts of amendment; when
they fall into sin, and are reproved for it, they
Say (and possibly think so too), “I will take
heed to myself, I will be guilty of this no
more.” And because they go no deeper, they
are many of them ensnared in the same kind
again; but however, if they do never commit
that same sin, they do but change it for some
other: as a current of waters, if you stop
their passage one way, they rest not till they
find another. The conversation can never be
uniformly and entirely good till the frame of
the heart, the affections and desires that lodge
in it, be changed. It is naturally an evil
treasure of impure lusts, and must in some
way vent and spend what it hath within. It
is to begin with the wrong end of your work,
to rectify the outside first, to smooth the con-
versation, and not first of all purge the heart.
Evil affections are the source of evil speeches
and actions. Whence are strifes and fight-
ings 3 says St. James; Are they not from your
lusts which war in your members ? James iv.
1. Unquiet, unruly lusts within, are the cause
of the unquietnesses and contentions abroad
in the world. One man will have his corrupt
will, and another his, and thus they shock
and justle one another; and by the cross en-
counters of their purposes, as flints meeting,
º strike out those sparks that set all on
Te.
So then, according to the order of the apos-
tle's exhortation, the only true principle of
all good and Christian conversation in the
world is the mortifying of all earthly and
sinful lusts in the heart. While they have
possession of the heart, they do so clog it,
and straiten it toward God and his ways, that
it can not walk constantly in them ; but when
the heart is freed from them, it is enlarged,
and so, as David speaks, the man is fitted, not
only to walk, but to run the way of God’s com-
mandments. Psalm crix. 32. And without
this freeing of the heart, a man will be at the
best very uneven and incongruous in his ways,
—in one step like a Christian, and in another
like a worldling ; which is an unpleasant and
unprofitable way, not according to that word,
Psalm xviii. 32. Thou hast set my feet as
hinds' feet,_set them even, as the word is, not
only swift, but straight and even ; and that is
the thing here required, that the whole course
and revolution of a Christian's life be like
himself. And that it may be so, the whole
body of sin, and all the members of it, all the
deceitful lusts, must be crucified.
In the words there are three things: 1. One
point of a Christian's ordinary entertainment
in the world is to be evil spoken of 2. Their
good use of that evil is to do the better for it.
3. The good end and the certain effect of their
so doing is the glory of God.
1. Whereas they speak against you as evil-
doers.] This is in general the disease of
man's corrupt nature, and argues much the
baseness and depravedness of it, this propen-
sion to evil-speaking one of another, either
blotting the best actions with misconstructions,
or taking doubtful things by the left ear; not
choosing the most favorable, but, on the con-
trary, the very harshest sense that can be put
upon them. Some men take more pleasure
in the marrow eying of the true and real faults
of men, and then speak of them with a kind
of delight. All these kinds of evil speakings
166
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
are such fruits as spring from that bitter root
of pride and self-love which is naturally deep
fastened in every man’s heart. But, besides
this general bent to evil speaking, there is a
particular malice in the world against those
that are born of God, which must have vent
in calumnies and reproaches. If this evil
speaking be the hissing that is natural to the
serpent’s seed, surely, by reason of their natu-
ral antipathy, it must be breathed forth most
against the seed of the woman, those that are
one with Jesus Christ. If the tongues of the
ungodly be sharp swords even to one another,
they will whet them sharper than ordinary
when they are to use them against the righ-
teous, to wound their name. The evil tongue
must be always burning, that is set on fire of
hell, as St. James speaks; but against the god-
ly, it will be sure to be heated seven times
hotter than it is for others. The reasons for
this are, 1. Being naturally haters of God, and
yet unable to reach him, what wonder is it
if their malice vent itself against his image
in his children, and labor to blot and stain
that, all they can, with the foulest calumnies 2
2. Because they are neither able nor willing
themselves to attain unto the spotless, holy
life of Christians, they bemire them, and
would make them like themselves, by false
aspersions: they can not rise to the estate of
the godly, and therefore they endeavor to
draw them down to theirs by detraction. 3.
The reproaches they cast upon the professors
of pure religion they mean mainly again reli-
gion itself, and intend by them to reflect upon it.
These evil speakings of the world against
pious men professing religion are partly gross
falsehoods, invented without the least ground
or appearance of truth ; for the world being
ever credulous of evil, especially upon so
deep a prejudice as it hath against the godly,
the falsest and most absurd calumnies will
always find so much belief as to make them
odious, or very suspected at least, to such as
know them not. This is the world's maxim,
Lie confidently, and it will always do some-
thing ; as a stone taken out of the mire and
thrown against a white wall, though it stick
not there, but rebound presently back again,
yet it leaves a spot behind it. And with this
kind of evil-speakings were the primitive
Christians surcharged, even with gross and
horrible falsehoods, as all know who know
anything of the history of those times; even
such things were reported of them as the
worst of wicked men would scarcely be guilty
of. The devil, as crafty as he is, makes use,
again and again, of his old inventions, and
makes them serve in several ages; for so were
the Waldenses accused of inhuman banquet-
ings and beastly promiscuous uncleanness, and
divers things not once to be named among
Christians, much less to be practised by them.
So that it is no new thing to meet with the
impurest, vilest slanders, as the world’s re-
ward of holiness and the practice of pure re-
ligion.
Then, again, consider how much more will
the wicked insult upon the least real blemishes
that they can espy among the professors of
godliness. And in this there is a threefold
injury very ordinary. , 1. Strictly to pry into,
and maliciously to object against Christians,
the smallest imperfections and frailties of
their lives, as if they pretended to and prom-
ised absolute perfection. They do indeed ex-
ercise themselves (such as are Christians in-
deed), with St. Paul, to keep a good conscience
in all things toward God and men (Acts xxiv.
16); they have a regard unto all God's com-
mandments, as David speaks; they have a
sincere love to God, which makes them study
the exactest obedience they can reach : and
this is an imperfect kind of perfection; it is
evangelical, but not angelical. 2. Men are
apt to impute the scandalous falls of some
particular Christians to the whole number.
It is a very short incompetent rule, to make
judgment of any one man himself by one ac-
tion, much more to measure all the rest of
the same profession by it. And yet they pro-
ceed further in this way of misjudging. 3.
They impute the personal failings of men to
their religion, and disparage it because of the
faults of those that profess it ; which, as the
ancients plead well, is the greatest injustice,
and such as they would not be guilty of
against their own philosophers. They could
well distinguish between their doctrine and
the manners of some of their followers, and
thus ought they to have dealt with Chris-
tians too. They ought to have considered
their religion in itself, and the doctrine that
it teacheth, and had they found it vicious, the
blame had been just ; but if it taught nothing
but holiness and righteousness, then the blame
of any unholiness or unrighteousness found
among Christians ought to rest upon the per-
sons themselves who were guilty of it, and
not to be stretched to the whole number of
professors, much less to the religion that they
professed. And yet this is still the custom
of the world upon the least failing they can
espy in the godly, or such as seem to be so ;
much more with open mouth do they revile
religion upon any gross sin in any of its pro-
fessors.
But seeing this is the very character of a
profane mind, and the badge of the enemies
of religion, beware of sharing in the least
with them in it. Give not easy entertain-
ment to the reports of profane or of mere civil
men against the professors of religion ; they
are undoubtedly partial, and their testimony
may be justly suspected. Lend them not a
ready ear to receive their evil-speakings,
much less your tongue to divulge them, and
set them further going; yea, take heed that
you take not pleasure in any the least kind
of scoffs against the sincerity and power of
religion. And, all of you who desire to walk
as Christians, be very wary that you wrong
not one another, and help not the wicked
against you, by your mutual misconstructions
WER. 12.]
167
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
and miscensures one of another. Far be it
from you to take pleasure in hearing ouhers
evil spoken of ; whether unjustly or though it
be some way deservedly, yet let it be alway
grievous to you, and no way pleasing to hear
such things, much less to speak of them.
It is the devil's delight to be pleased with
evil speakings. The Syrian calls him an
Akal Kartza, Eater of slanders or calumnies,
They are a dish that pleases his palate, and
men are naturally fond of this diet. In Psalm
xxxv. 16, there is a word that is rendered
mockers at feasts, or feasting-mockers—per-
sons who feasted men's ears at their meetings
with speaking of the faults of others scoffing-
ly, and therefore shared with them of their
cakes, or feasts, as the word is. But to a re-
newed Christian mind, which hath a new
taste, and all its senses new, there is nothing
more unsavory than to hear the defaming of
others, especially of such as profess religion.
Did the law of love possess our hearts, it
would regulate both the ear and tongue, and
make them most tender of the name of our
brethren : it would teach us the faculty of
covering their infirmities, and judging favor-
ably, taking always the best side and most
charitable sense of their actions: it would
teach us to blunt the edge of our censures
upon ourselves, our own hard hearts and re-
bellious wills within, that they might remain
no more sharp against others than is needful
for their good.
And this would cut short those that are
without from a great deal of provisions of
evil-speaking against Christians that they
many times are furnished with by Christians
themselves, through their uncharitable car-
riage one toward another. However, this
being the hard measure that they always find
in the world, it is their wisdom to consider it
aright, and to study that good which, accord-
ing to the apostle's advice, may be extracted
out of it, and that is the second thing to be
spoken to.
Having your conversation honest among
the gº As the sovereign power of
drawing good out of evil resides in God, and
argues his primitive goodness, so he teacheth
his own children some faculty this way, that
they may resemble him in it. He teacheth them
to draw sweetness out of their bitterest afflic-
tions, and increase of inward peace from
their outward troubles. And as these buffet-
ings of the tongue are no small part of their
sufferings, so they reap no small benefit by
them many ways: particularly in this one,
that they order their conversation the better,
and walk the more exactly for it.
And this, no doubt, in Divine providence,
is intended and ordered for their good, as are
all their other trials. The sharp censures
and evil speakings that a Christian is encom-
F. with in the world is no other than a
edge of thorns set on every side, that he go
not out of his way, but keep straight on in it
between them, not declining to the right
hand nor to the left: whereas, if they found
nothing but the favor and good opinion of the
world, they might, as in a way unhedged, be
Subject to expatiate and wander out into the
meadows of carnal pleasures that are about
them, which would call and allure them, and
often divert them from their journey.
And thus it might fall out, that Christians
would deserve censure and evil-speakings the
more, if they did not usually suffer them un-
deserved. This then turns into a great ad-
vantage to them, making their conduct more
answerable to those two things that our Sa-
vior joins, watch and pray; causing them to
be the more vigilant over themselves, and
the more earnest with God for his watching
over them and conducting of them. Make my
ways straight, says David, because of mine
enemies, Psal. v. 8; the word is my observers,
or those that scan my ways, every foot of
them ; that examine them as a verse, or as a
song of music ; if there be but a wrong meas-
ure in them, they will not let it slip, but will
be sure to mark it.
And if the enemies of the godly wait for
their halting, shall not they scan their own
paths themselves, that they may not halt 3
shall they not examine them to order them,
as the wicked do to censure them : still de-
pending wholly upon the spirit of God as
their guide, to lead them into all truth, and
to teach them how to order their conversation
aright, that it may be all of a piece, holy and
blameless, and still like itself?
Honest.] Fair or beautiful: the same word
doth fitly signify goodness and beauty, for
that which is the truest and most lasting
beauty grows fresher in old age, as the psalm-
ist º of the righteous, those that be plant-
ed in the house of God, Psalm Xcii. 12–14.
“Could the beauty of virtue be seen,” said a
philosopher, “it would draw all to love it.”
A Christian, holy conversation hath such a
beauty, that when they who are strangers to
it begin to discern it at all aright, they can
not choose but love it; and where it begets
not love, yet it silences calumny, or at least
evinces its falsehood.
The goodness or beauty of a Christian's
conversation consisting in symmetry and con-
formity to the word of God as its rule, he
ought diligently to study that rule, and to
square his ways by it ; not to walk at random,
but to apply that rule to every step at home
and abroad, and to be as careful to keep the
beauty of his ways unspotted, as those wo-
men are of their faces and attire who are
most studious of comeliness.
But so far are we who call ourselves Chris-
tians from this exact regard of our conversa-
tion, that the most part not only have many
foul spots, but they themselves, and all their
ways, are nothing but defilement, all one
spot; as our apostle calls them, blots are they
and spots, 2 Pet. ii. 13. And even they who
are Christians indeed, yet are not so watch-
ful and accurate in all their ways as becomes
168
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
them, but stain their holy profession, either
with pride, or covetousness, or contentions, or
Some other such like uncomeliness.
Let us all, therefore, resolve more to study
this good and comely conversation, the apos-
tle here exhorts to, that it may be such as
becometh the gospel of Christ, as St. Paul
desires his Philippians, ch. i. 27. And if you
live among profane persons, who will be to
you as the unbelieving Gentiles were to these
believing Jews who lived among them, tra-
ducers of you, and given to speak evil of
you, and of religion in you, trouble not your-
selves with many apologies and clearings
when you are evil spoken of, but let the track
of your life answer for you, your honest, and
blameless conversation: that will be the short-
est, and most real and effectual way of con-
futing all obloquies; as when one in the
schools was proving by a sophistical argu-
ment that there could be no motion, the phi-
losopher answered it fully and shortly by
rising up and walking. If thou wouldst pay
them home, this is a kind of revenge not only
allowed thee, but recommended to thee; be
avenged on evil speakings by well doing,
shame them from it. It was a king that said,
It was kingly to do well and be ill-spoken %
Well may Christians acknowledge it to be
true, when they consider that it was the lot
of their king, Jesus Christ ; and well may
they be content, seeing he hath made
them likewise kings (as we heard, ver. 9),
to be conformable to him in this too, this
kingly way of suffering, to be unjustly evil
spoken of, and still to go on in doing the more
good; always airning in so doing (as our Lord
did), at the glory of our Heavenly Father.
This is the third thing.
That they may glorify God in the day of
their visitation. He says not, They shall
praise or commend you, but shall glorify
God. In what way soever this time, this day
of visitation be taken, the effect itself is this,
They shall glorify God. . It is this the apos-
tle still holds before their eye, as that upon
which a Christian doth willingly set his eye,
and keep it fixed in all his ways. He doth
not teach them to be sensible of their own
esteern as it concerns themselves, but only as
the glory of their God is interested in it.
Were it not for this, a generous-minded Chris-
tian could set a very light rate upon all the
thoughts and speeches of men concerning
him, whether good or bad; and could easily
drown all their mistakes in the conscience of
the favor and approbation of his God. It is
a very small thing for me to be judged of you.
or of the day of man : he that judgeth me is
the Lord. , 1 Cor. iv. 3. . Man hath a day of
judging, but it, and his judgment with it,
soon passes away; but God hath his day, and
it, together with his sentence, abideth for
ever, as the apostle there adds. As if he
should say, I appeal to God ; but considering
that the religion he professes, and the God
whom he worships in that religion, are
wronged by those reproaches, and that the
calumnies cast upon Christians reflect upon
their Lord—this is the thing that makes him
sensible; he feels on that side only. The re-
proaches of them that reproached thee are
fallen upon me, says the psalmist: and this
makes a Christian desirous to vindicate, even
to men, his religion and his God, without re-
gard to himself; because he may say, the re-
proaches of them that reproach only me, have
fallen upon thee. Psalm lxix. 9.
This is his intent in the holiness and integ-
rity of his life, that God may be glorified:
this is the axis about which all this good con-
versation moves and turns continually.
And he that forgets this, let his conversa-
tion be ever so plausible and spotless, knows
not what it is to be a Christian. As they say
of the eagles, who try their young ones
whether they be of the right kind or not, by
holding them before the sun, and if they can
look steadfastly upon it, they own them, if
not, they throw them away : this is the true.
evidence of an upright and real Christian, to
have a steadfast eye on the glory of God, the
Father of lights. In all, let God be glorified,
says the Christian, and that suffices: that is
the sum of his desires. He is far from glory-
ing in himself, or seeking to raise himself, for
he knows that of himself he is nothing, but
by the free grace of God he is what he is.
“Whence any glorying to thee, rottenness and
dust?” says St. Bernard. “Whence is it to
thee if thou are holy 2 Is it not the Holy
Spirit that hath sanctified thee ? If thou
couldst work miracles, though they were
done by thy hand, yet it were not by thy
power, but by the power of God.”
To the end that my glory may sing praise
unto thee, says David, Psalm xxx.12. Whether
his tongue, or his soul, or both, be meant,
what he calls his glory, he shows us, and
what use he hath for it, namely, to give
the Lord glory, to sing his praises, and that
then it was truly David's glory when it was
so employed, in giving glory to him whose
peculiar due glory is. What have we to do
in the world, as his creatures, once and again
his creatures, his new creatures, created unto
good works, but to exercise ourselves in those,
and by those to advance his glory, that all
may return to him from whom all is, as the
rivers run back to the sea whence they came 2
Of him, and through him, and therefore, for
him are all things, says the apostle, Rom. xi.
36. They that serve base gods, seek how to
advance and aggrandize them. The cove-
tous man studies to make his Mammon as
great as he can, all his thoughts and pains
run upon that service, and so do the voluptu-
ous and ambitious for theirs; and shall not
they who profess themselves to be the ser-
vants of the only great and the only true God,
have their hearts much more, at least as
much possessed with desires of honoring and
exalting him 2. Should not this be their pre-
dominant design and thought?—What way
VER. 13, 14.]
169
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
shall I most advance the glory of my God?
How shall I, who am under stronger obliga-
tions than they all, set in with the heavens
and the earth, and the other creatures, to de-
clare his excellency, his greatness, and his
goodness 2
In the day of visitation.] The behold-
ing of your good works may work this in
them, that they may be gained to acknowl-
edge and embrace that religion, and that
God, which for the present they reject; but
that it may be thus, they must be visited
with that same light and grace from above,
which hath sanctified you. This, I conceive,
is the sense of this word, though it may be,
and is taken divers other ways by interpreters.
Possibly, in this day of visitation, is implied the
clearer preaching of the gospel among those
Gentiles, where the dispersed Jews dwelt;
and that when they should compare the light
of that doctrine with the light of their lives,
and find the agreement between them, that
might be helpful to their effectual calling,
and so they might glorify God. But to the
end that they might do thus indeed, there
must be, along with the word of God, and the
good works of his people, a particular visit-
ing of their souls by the Spirit of God. Your
good conversation may be one good mean of
their conversion; therefore this may be a
motive to that; but to make it an effectual
mean, this day of gracious visitation must
dawn upon them : the day-spring from on
high must visit them, as it is Luke i. 7, 8.
VER. 13. Submit yourselves unto every ordinance of
man for the Lord’s sake, whether it be to the king,
as supreme ;
VER. 14. Or unto governors, as unto them that are
sent by him for the punishment of evil-doers, and
for the praise of them that do well.
IT is one of the falsest, and yet one of the
commonest prejudices that the world hath
always entertained against true religion, that
it is an enemy to civil power and government.
The adversaries of the Jews charged this
fault upon their city, the then seat of the true
worship of God, Ezra iv. 15. The Jews
charged it upon the preachers of the Chris-
tian religion, Acts xvii. 7, as they pretended
the same quarrel against Christ himself. And
generally, the enemies of the Christians of
primitive times, loaded them with the slan-
der of rebellion and contempt of authority.
Therefore our apostle, descending to particu-
lar rules of Christian life, by which it may
be blameless, and silence calumny, begins
with this, not only as a thing of prime im-
portance in itself, but as particularly fit for
those he wrote to, being at once both Jews
and Christians, for the clearing of themselves
and their religion : Submit yourselves, &c.
There are in the words divers particu-
lars to be considered, all concurring to press
this main duty of obedience to magistrates,
not only as well consistent with true religion,
but as indeed inseparable from it. Not to
parcel out the words * many pieces, they
2
may, I conceive, be all not unfitly comprised
under these two: 1. The extent of this duty;
2. The ground of it.
1. The extent of the duty, viz., To all civil
power, of what kind soever, for the time re-
ceived and authorized; there being no need
of questioning what was the rise and original
of civil power, either in the mature of it, or in
the persons of those that are in possession of
it. For if you will trace them quite through
in the succession of ages, and narrowly eye
their whole circle, there be few crowns in
the world, in which there will not be found
some crack or other, more or less. If you
look on those great monarchies in Daniel's
vision, you see one of them built up upon the
ruins of another; and all of them represented
by terrible devouring beasts of monstrous
shape. And whether the Roman empire be
the fourth there, as many take it, or not, yet,
in the thing spoken of that fourth, as well as
of the rest, it is inferior to none of them, en-
larging itself by conquests in all parts of the
world. And under it were the provinces to
which this epistle is addressed : yet the apos-
tle enjoins his brethren subjection and obedi-
ence to its authority.
Nor is it a question so to be moved as to
suspend, or at all abate, our obedience to that
which possesses in the present where we
live, what form of government is most just
and commodious.
God hath indeed been more express in the
officers and government of his own house,
his church; but civil societies he hath left at
liberty, in the choosing and modelling of civil
government, though always, indeed, over-
ruling their choice and changes in that, by
the secret hand of his wise and powerful
providence. Yet he hath set them no partic-
ular rule touching the frame of it; only, the
common rule of equity and justice ought to
be regarded, both in the contriving and man-
aging of government. Nevertheless, though
it be some way defective in both, those that
are subject to it, are in all things lawful to
submit to its authority, whether supreme or
subordinate; as we have it here expressly,
Whether to the king as supreme (namely, to
the emperor), or to the governors sent by
him ;-which, though a judicious interpreter
refers to God, and will not admit of any oth-
er sense, yet it seems most suitable both to
the words, and to the nature of the govern-
ment of those provinces, to take that word
to him as relating to the king ; for the ex-
pression them that are sent, answers to the
other, the king as supreme, and so is a very
clear designation of the inſerior governors
of those times and places. And whatsoever
was their end who sent them, and their car-
riage who were sent, that which the apostle
adds, expresses the end for which they should
be sent to govern, and at which they should
aim in governing, as the true end of all goy-
ernment. And though they were not fully
true to that end in their deportment, but pos-
170
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
sibly did many things unjustly, yet, as God
hath ordained authority for this end, there is
always so much justice in the most depraved
government, as renders it a public good, and
therefore puts upon inferiors an obligation to
obedience: and this leads us to consider,
2dly, The ground of this duty. The main
ground of submitting to human authority, is
the interest that divine authority hath in it,
God having both appointed civil government
as a common good among men, and particu-
larly commanded his people obedience to it,
as a particular good to them, and a thing
very suitable with their profession: it is for the
Lord's sake. This word carries the whole
weight of the duty, and is a counterbalance
to the former, which seems to be therefore
on purpose so expressed, that this may an-
swer it. Although civil authority, in regard
of particular forms of government, and the
choice of particular persons to govern, is but
a human ordinance, or man's creature, as the
word , is, yet, both the good of government,
and the duty of subjection to it, are God's
ordinance: and therefore, for his sake submit
3/ourselves.
[1..] God hath in general instituted civil
government for the good of human society,
and still there is good in it. Tyranny is bet-
ter than anarchy. [2.] It is by his provi-
dence that men are advanced to places of
authority. See Psalm lxxv. 6, 7; Dam. iv. 25;
John xix. 11. [3.] It is his command, that
obedience be yielded to them. Rom. xiii. 1;
Tit. iii. 1. &c. And the consideration of this
ties a Christian to all loyalty and due obedi-
ence, which, being still for the Lord's sake,
can not hold in anything that is against the
Lord’s own command ; for kings and rulers,
in such a case, leave their station. Now the
subjection here enjoined is, iroráynre, be subject
to them, as it were in your rank, still in sub-
ordination to God; but if they go out of that
even line, follow them not. They that obey
the unlawful commands of kings do it in re-
gard to their god, no question, but that their
god is their belly, or their ambition, or their
a War ICe.
But not only ought the exercise of author-
ity, and submission to it, to be confined to
things just and lawful in themselves, but the
Very purpose of the heart, both in command
and obedience, should be in the Lord, and for
his sake. This is the only straight, and the
only safe rule, both for rulers and for people
to walk by. Would kings, and the other pow-
ers of the world consider the supremacy and
greatness of that King of whom they hold
all their crowns and dignities, they would be
no less careful of their submission and hom-
age to him, than they are desirous of their
people's submission to themselves.
I will not speak at all of their civil obliga-
tions to their people, and the covenant of
justice that with good reason is betwixt them
in thefundamental constitutions of all well-or-
dered kingdoms; nor meddle with that point
—the dependance that human authority hath
upon the societies of men over whom it is,
according to which it is here called man’s
ordinance, or Creature, iv6porium kriget. This
is a thing that the greatest and most absolute
of princes can not deny, that all their author-
ity is dependant upon the great God, both as
the author of it in the general, and the sov-
ereign disposer of it to particular men, giv-
ing the kingdoms of the earth to whom he
will. Dan. iv. 25. And therefore he may
most justly require obedience and fealty of
them, that they serve the Lord in fear, and
if they rejoice in their dignities over men,
yet that they do it with trembling, under a
sense of their duty to God, and that they
throw down their crowns at the feet of Christ,
the Lord’s anointed.
And to this they are the more obliged,
considering that religion and the gospel of
Christ do so much press the duty of their
people's obedience to them; so that they
wrong both Christianity and themselves very
far, in mistaking it as an enemy to their au-
thority, when it is so far from prejudicing it,
that it confirms it, and pleads for it. Surely
they do most ungratefully requite the Lord
and his Christ, when they say (as Psalm ii.),
Let us break their bands asunder, and cast
away their cords from us. Whereas the Lord
binds the cords of kings and their authority
fast upon their people; not the cords of tyr-
anny indeed, to bind the subjects as beasts to
be sacrifices to the passion of their rulers, but
the cords of just and due obedience to their
kings and governors. The Lord doth (as you
see here) bind it upon all that profess his
name and strengthens it by the respect his
people carry to himself, enjoining them, that
for his sake, they would obey their rulers.
So that kings need not fear true religion, that
it will ever favor anything that can justly
be called rebellion; on the contrary, it still
urges loyalty and obedience: so that as they
ought in duty, they may in true policy and
wisdom, befriend true religion, as a special
friend to their authority, and hate that re-
ligion of Rome which is indeed rebellion,
and that mother of abominations who makes
the kings of the earth drunk with her cup,
and makes them dream of increase of au-
thority while they are truly on the losing
hand. But besides that they owe their power
to the advancement of Christ's kingdom, by
so employing themselves as to strengthen it,
they do themselves good : they confirm their
own thrones, when they erect his : as it was
said of Caesar, that by setting up Pompey's
statue, he settled and fastened his own.
But it is an evil too natural to men, to
forget the true end and use of any good
the Lord conſers on them. And thus kings
and rulers too often consider not for what
they are exalted; they think it is for them-
selves, to honor and please themselves, and
not to honor God and benefit their people, to
encourage and reward the good (as here it is),
WER. 15, 16.]
171
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
and to punish the wicked. They are set on
high for the good of those that are below
them, that they may be refreshed with their
light and influence; as the lights of heaven
are set there in the highest parts of the world,
for the use and benefit of the very lowest.
God set them in the firmament of heaven,
but to what end ? To give light upon the
earth. Gen. i. 15. And the mountains are
raised above the rest of the earth, not to be
places of prey and robbery, as sometimes
they are turned to be, but to send forth
streams from their springs into the valleys,
and make them fertile ; these mountains and
hills (greater and lesser rulers, higher and
lower), are to send forth to the people the
streams of righteousness and peace. Psalm
lxxii. 31.
But it is the corruption and misery of man's
nature, that he doth not know, and can hardly
be persuaded to learn, either how to com-
mand aright, or how to obey ; and no doubt
many of those that can see and blame the
injustice of others in authority, would be
more guilty that way themselves, if they had
the same power.
It is the pride and self-love of our nature
that begets disobedience in inferiors, and vio-
lence and injustice in superiors; that depraved
humor which ties to every kind of govern-
ment a propension to a particular disease;
which makes royalty easily degenerate into
tyranny, the government of nobles into fac-
tions, and popular government into confusion.
As civil authority, and subjection to it, are
the institution of God, so the peaceable cor-
respondence of these two, just government
and due obedience, is the special gift of God's
own hand, and a prime blessing to states and
kingdoms; and the troubling and interrup-
tion of their course is one of the highest pub-
lic judgments by which the Lord punishes
oftentimes the other sins both of rulers and
people. And whatsoever be the cause, and
on which side soever be the justice of the
cause, it can not be looked upon but as a
heavy plague, and the fruit of many and great
provocations, when kings and their people,
who should be a mutual blessing and honor
to each other, are turned into Scourges one to
another, or into a devouring fire; as it is in
the parable, Judg. ix. 20. Fire going forth
from Abimelech to devour the men of Shechem,
and fire from Shechem to devour Abimelech.
VER. 15. For so is the will of God, that with well do-
ing ye may put to silence the ignorance of foolish
IIle II :
VER. 16. As free, and not using your liberty for a
cloak of maliciousness, but as the servants of God.
THIs continues the same reason of the same
Christian duty; if they will obey the Lord,
then they must obey civil powers, for that is
his will, and they will not deny their obliga-
tion to him, for they are his servants, v. 16.
The words, indeed, are more general than the
former, but they relate chiefly, in this place,
to the particular in hand, implying that nei-
ther in that kind nor in any other, Christians
should dishonor their profession, and abuse
their liberty, mistaking it as an exemption
from those duties to which it doth more
straitly tie them. So, then, the point of civil
obedience and all other good conversation
among men, is here recommended to Chris-
tians, as conformable to the will of God, and
the most effectual clearing of their profession,
and very agreeable to their Christian liberty.
The will of God..] This is the strongest
and most binding reason that can be used to
a Christian mind, which hath resigned itself
to be governed by that rule, to have the will
of God for its law. Whatsoever is required
of it upon that warrant, it can not refuse.
Although it cross a man’s own humor, or his
private interest, yet if his heart be subjected
to the will of God, he will not stand with him
in anything. One word from God, I will
have it so, silences all, and carries it against
all opposition.
It were a great point, if we could be per-
suaded to esteem duly of this: it were indeed
all. It would make light and easy work in
those things that go so hardly on with us,
though we are daily exhorted to them. Is it
the will of God that I should live soberly 2
Then, though my own corrupt will and my
companions be against it, yet it must be so.
Wills he that I forbear cursing and oaths,
though it is my custom to use them ? Yet I
must offer violence to my custom, and go
against the stream of all their customs that
are round about me, to obey his will who
wills all things justly and holily. Will he
have my charity not only liberal in giving,
but in forgiving, and real and hearty in both 2
Will he have me bless them that curse me,
and do good to them that hate me, and love
mine enemies? Though the world counts it
a hard task, and my own corrupt heart possi-
bly finds it so, yet it shall be done; and not
as upon unpleasant necessity, but willingly
and cheerfully, and with the more delight
because it is difficult; for so it proves my
obedience the more, and my love to him
whose will it is. Though mine enemies de-
serve not my love, yet he who bids me love
them, does; and if he will have this the
touchstone to try the uprightness of my love
to him, shall it fail there 2 No; his will
commands me absolutely, and he himself is
so lovely, that there can be nobody so un-
lovely in themselves, or to me, but I can love
them upon his command, and for his sake.
But that it may be thus, there must be a
renewed frame of mind, by which a man
may renounce the world, and the forms of it,
and himself, and his own sinful heart, and its
way, to study and follow the only good, and
acceptable, and perfect will of God, Rom.
xii. 2, to move most in that line, not willingly
declining to either hand, to have his whole
mind taken up in searching it, and his whole
heart in embracing it. Be ye not unwise, but
understanding what the will of the Lord is,
A72
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
says the Apostle Paul, Eph. v. 17, being
about to exhort to particular duties, as our
apostle here is doing.
This is the task of a Christian, to under-
stand his Lord's will, and with a practical
understanding, that he may walk in all well
pleasing unto God. Thus the apostle like-
wise exhorts the Thessalonians pathetically
(1 epistle, iv. 1), and adds, This is the will
of God, even your sanctification. And he
then proceeds particularly against unclean-
ness and deceit, &c.
Let this, then, be your endeavor, to have
your wills crucified to whatsoever is sinful,
yea, to all outward indifferent things with a
kind of indifferency. The most things that
men are so stiff in, are not worth an earnest
willing. In a word, it were the only happy and
truly spiritual temper, to have our will quite
rooted out, and the will of God placed in its
stead; to have no other will than his, that it
might constantly, yea, so to speak, identically
follow it in all things. This is the will of
God, therefore it is mine.
That with well doing ye may put to silence
the ignorance of foolish "...] The duties
of the second table, or of welſ doing toward
men, are more obvious to men devoid of reli-
gion, than those that have an immediate re-
lation to God ; and therefore, as in other epis-
tles, the apostle is here particular in these,
for the vindicating of religion to them that
are without. Ignorance usually is loud and
prattling, making a mighty noise, and so hath
need of a muzzle to silence it, as the word
pºpovy imports. They that were ready to
speak evil of religion, are called with ess or
foolish men; there was perverseness in their
ignorance, as the word āqāvoy intimates. And
generally, all kinds of evil speakings and un-
charitable censurings do argue a foolish,
worthless mind, whence they proceed ; and
yet, they are the usual divertisement of the
greatest part of mankind, and take up very
much of their converse and discourse; which
is an evidence of the baseness and perverse-
ness of their minds. For, whereas those that
have most real goodness, delight most to ob-
serve what is good and commendable in oth-
ers, and to pass by their blemishes: it is the
true character of vile, unworthy persons (as
scurvy flies sit upon sores), to skip over all
the good that is in men, and fasten upon their
infirmities.
But, especially doth it discover ignorance
and folly, to turn the failings of men to the
disadvantage of religion. None can be such
enemies to it, but they that know it not, and
see not the beauty that is in it. However,
the way to silence them, we see, is by well
doing ; that silences them more than whole
volumes of Apologies. When a Christian
walks irreproveably, his enemies have no-
where to fasten their teeth on him, but are
forced to gnaw their own malignant tongues.
As it secures the godly, thus to stop the y-
ing mouths of foolish men, so it is as painful
to them to be thus stopped, as muzzling is to
beasts, and it punishes their malice.
And this is a wise Christian's way, instead
of impatiently fretting at the mistakes or wil-
ful miscensures of men, to keep still on his
calm temper of mind, and upright course of
life, and silent innocence; this, as a rock,
breaks the waves into foam that roar about it.
As free.] This, the apostle adds, lest any
should so far mistake the nature of their
Christian liberty, as to dream of an exemp-
tion from obedience either to God, or to men
for his sake, and according to his appoint-
ment. Their freedom he grants, but would
have them understand aright what it is. I
can not here insist at large on the spiritual
freedom of Christians; nor is it here needful,
being mentioned only for the clearing of it in
this point; but free they are, and they only,
who are partakers of this liberty. If the
Son make you free, you shall be free indeed,
John viii. 36. The rest are slaves to Satan
and the world, and their own lusts; as the
Israelites in Egypt, working in the clay un-
der hard task-masters.
Much discourse hath been spent, and much
ink hath been spilt upon the debate of free-
will, but truly, all the liberty it hath till the
Son and his Spirit free it, is that miserable
freedom the apostle speaks of, Rom. vi. 20:
While ye were servants to sin, ye were free
from righteousness.
And as we are naturally subject to the vile
drudgery of sin, so we are condemned to the
proper wages of sin, which the apostle there
tells us is death, according to the just sen-
tence of the law. But our Lord Christ was
anointed for this purpose, to set us free, both
to work and to publish liberty, to proclaim
liberty to captives, and the opening of the
prison doors to them that are bound. Isa.
lxi. 1. Having paid our complete ransom,
he sends his word as the message, and his
Spirit, to perform it effectually, to set us free,
to let us know it, and to bring us out of prison.
He was bound and scourged, as a slave or
malefactor, to purchase us this liberty; there-
fore ought it to be our special care, first, to
have part in it, and then to be like it, and
stand fast in it, in all points.
But that we deceive not ourselves, as too
many do who have no portion in this liberty,
we ought to know that it is not to inordinate
walking and licentiousness, as our liberty,
that we are called, but from them, as our
thraldom ; we are not called from obedience,
but to it. Therefore beware that you shuffle
in, under this specious name of liberty, noth-
ing that belongs not to it. Make it not a
cloak of maliciousness: it is too precious a
garment for so base a use. Liberty is indeed
Čhrist's livery that he gives to all his follow-
ers; but to live suitably to it, is not to live in
wickedness or disobedience of any kind, but
in obedience and holiness. You are called to
be the servants of God, and that is your dig-
nity and your liberty.
WER. 17.]
173
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
The apostles of this gospel of liberty glo-
ried in this title, The servants of Jesus
Christ. David, before that psalm of praise
for his victories and exaltations, being now
settled on his throne, prefixes, as more honor
than all these, A Psalm of David, the servant
of the Lord, Psalm xviii. 1. It is the only
true happiness both of kings and their sub-
jects, to be his subjects. It is the glory of
the angels to be his ministering spirits. The
more we attain unto the faculty of serving
him cheerfully and diligently, the more still
we find of this spiritual liberty, and have the
more joy in it. As it is the most honorable,
it is likewise the most comfortable and most
gainful service; and they that once know it,
will never change it for any other in the
world. Oh that we could live as his ser-
wants, employing all our industry to do him
service in the condition and place wherein he
hath set us, whatsoever it is, and as faithful
servants, more careful of his affairs than of
our own, accounting it our main business to
seek the advancement of his glory. Happy
is the servant whom the master, when he com-
eth, shall find so doing. Matt. xxiv. 46.
WER. 17. Honor all men. Love the brotherhood.
Fear God. Honor the king.
THIS is a precious cluster of divine pre-
cepts. The whole face of the heavens is
adorned with stars, but they are of different
magnitudes, and in some parts they are
thicker set than in others: thus it is likewise
in the holy Scriptures. And these are the
two books that the psalmist sets open before
us, Psal. xix. ; the heavens as a choice piece
of the works of God instructing us, and the
word of God more full and clear than they.
Here is a constellation of very bright stars
near together. These words have very brief-
ly, and yet not obscured by briefness, but
withal very plainly, the sum of our duty tow-
ard God and men; to men both in general,
Honor all men, and in special relations—in
their Christian or religious relation, Love the
brotherhood, and in a chief civil relation,
Honor the king. And our whole duty to
God, comprised under the name of his fear,
is set in the middle between these, as the
common spring of all duty to men, and of all
due observance of it, and the sovereign rule
by which it is to be regulated.
I shall speak of them as they lie in the text.
We need not labor about the connexion; for
in such variety of brief practical directions,
it hath not such places as in doctrinal dis-
courses. The apostle having spoken of one
particular wherein he would have his brethren
to clear and commend their Christian pro-
fession, now accumulates these directions as
most necessary, and afterward goes on to
particular duties of servants, &c. But first,
observe in general, how plain and easy, and
how few are those things that are the rule of
our life; no dark sentences to puzzle the un-
derstanding, nor large discourses and long
periods to burden the memory ; they are all
plain; there is nothing wreathed nor distorted
in them, as Wisdom speaks of her instruc-
tions, Prov. viii. 8.
And this gives check to a double folly among
men, contrary the one to the other, but both
agreeing in mistaking and wronging the word
of God ; the one is of those that despise the
word, and that doctrine and preaching that is
conformable to it, for its plainness and sim-
plicity ; the other of those that complain of
its difficulty and darkness. As for the first,
they certainly do not take the true end for
which the word is designed, that it is the
law of our life (and it is mainly requisite in
laws, that they be both brief and clear): that
it is our guide and light to happiness; and if
that which ought to be our light, be dark-
ness, how great will that darkness be '
It is true (but I am not now to insist on
this point), that there be dark and deep passa-
ges in Scripture, for the exercise, yea, for the
humbling, yea, for the amazing and astonish-
ing of the sharpest-sighted readers. But this
argues much the pride and vanity of men's
minds, when they busy themselves only in
those, and throw aside altogether the most
necessary, which are therefore the easiest and
plainest truths in it. As in nature, the com-
modities that are of greatest necessity, God
hath made most common and easiest to be had,
so, in religion, such instructions as these now
in our hands are given us to live and walk by ;
and in the search of things that are more ob-
scure, and less useful, men evidence that they
had rather be learned than holy, and have still
more mind to the tree of knowledge than the
tree of life. And in hearing of the word, are
not they who are any whit more knowing
than ordinary, still gaping after new notions,
after something to add to the stock of their
speculative and discoursing knowledge, loath-
ing this daily manna, these profitable exhorta-
tions, and requiring meat for their lust? There
is an intemperance of the mind, as well as of
the mouth. You would think it, and, may be,
not spare to call it, a poor cold sermon, that
were made up of such plain precepts as these;
Honor all men ; love the brotherhood ; fear
God ; honor the king ; and yet, this is the lan-
guage of God, it is his way, this foolish, de-
spicable way by which he guides, and brings
to heaven them that believe.
Again; we have others that are still com-
plaining of the difficulty and darkness of the
word of God and divine truths; to say nothing
of Rome's doctrine, who talks thus, in order
to excuse her sacrilege of stealing away the
word from the people of God (a senseless
pretext though it were true ; because the
word is dark of itself, should it therefore be
made darker, by locking it up in an unknown
tongue?) but we speak of the common vulgar
excuse, which the gross, ignorant profaneness
of many seeks to shroud itself under, that
they are not learned, and can not reach the
174
[CHAP II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
doctrine. of the Scriptures. There be deep
mysteries there indeed : but what say you to
these things, such rules as these, honor all
men, &c. 2 Are such as these riddles, that
you can not know their meaning 2 . Rather,
do not all understand them, and all neglect
them ? Why set you not on to do these ? and
then you should understand more. A good
wnderstanding have all they that do his com-
nandments, says the psalmist, Psal. cxi. 10.
As one said well, “The best wav to under-
stand the mysterious and high discourse in
the beginning of St. Paul’s epistles, is, to
begin at the practice of those rules and pre-
cepts that are in the latter end of them.” The
Way to attain to know more is to receive the
truth in the love of it, and to obey what you
know. The truth is, such truths as these
will leave you inexcusable, even the most
ignorant of you. You can not but know, you
hear often, that you ought to love one another,
and to fear God, &c., and yet you never apply
yourselves in earnest to the practice of these
things, as will appear to your own conscien-
ces, if they deal honestly with you in the
particulars.
Honor all men.] Honor, in a narrower
sense, is not a universal due to all, but pecu-
liar to some kinds of persons. Of this the
apostle speaks, Rom. xii. 8. Honor to whom
honor is due, and that in different degrees, to
parents, to masters, and other superiors.
There is an honor that hath, as it were,
Caesar's image and superscription on it, and
So is particularly due to him; as here it fol-
lows, honor the king. But there is something
that goes not unfitly under the name of honor,
generally due to every man without excep-
tion ; and it consists, as all honor doth, partly
in inward esteem of them, partly in outward
behavior toward them. And the former must
be the ground and cause of the latter.
We owe not the same measure of esteem
to all. We may, yea, we ought to take no-
tice of the different outward quality, or in-
Ward graces and gifts of men; nor is it a fault
to perceive the shallowness and weakness of
men with whom we converse, and to esteem
more highly those on whom God hath con-
ferred more of such things as are truly wor-
thy of esteem. But unto the meanest we do
9We Some measure of esteem, 1st, Negative-
ly. We are not to entertain despising, dis-
dainful thoughts of any, how worthless and
mean Soever. As the admiring of men, the
Very best, is a foolish excess on the one hand,
so, the total contemning of any, the very
poorest, is against this rule on the other ; for
that contenning of vile persons, the psalmist
speaks of Psalm xv. 3, and commends, is the
dislike and hatred of their sin, which is their
vileness, and the not accounting them for out-
Ward respects, worthy of such esteem as their
wickedness does, as it were, strip them of.
2dly. We are to observe and respect the small-
est good that is in any. Although a Chris-
tian be never so base in his outward condi-
tion, in body or mind, of very mean intellect-
uals and natural endowments, yet, they who
know the worth of spiritual things will esteem
the grace of God that is in him, in the midst
of all those disadvantages, as a pearl in a
rough shell. Grace carries still its own
worth, though under a deformed body and
ragged garments, yea, though they have but
a small measure of that neither—the very
lowest degree of grace; as a pearl of the least
size, or a small piece of gold, yet men will
not throw it away, but, as they say, the least
shavings of gold are worth the keeping. The
Jews would not willingly tread upon the
smallest piece of paper in their way, but took
it up ; “For possibly,” said they, “the name
of God may be on it.” Though there was a
little superstition in this, yet truly there is
nothing but good religion in it, if we apply it
to men. Trample not on any ; there may be
some work of grace there that thou knowest
not of. The name of God may be written
upon that soul thou treadest on ; it may be a
soul that Christ thought so much of, as to
give his precious blood for it; therefore de-
spise it not. Much more, I say, if thou canst
perceive any appearance that it is such a one,
oughtest thou to esteem it. Wheresoever
thou findest the least trait of Christ's image,
if thou lovest him, thou wilt honor it; or if
there be nothing of this to be found in him
thou lookest on, yet observe what common
gift of any kind God hath bestowed on him,
judgment, or memory, or faculty in his cal-
ling, or any such thing, for these in their de-
gree are to be esteemed, and the person for
them. And as there is no man so complete
as to have the advantage in everything, so
there is no man so low and unworthy but he
hath something wherein he is preferable even
to those that in other respects are much more
excellent. Or imagine thou canst find nothing
else in some men, yet honor thy own nature;
esteem humanity in them, especially since
humanity is exalted in Christ to be one with
the Deity: account of the individual as a man.
And, along with this esteem goes, 3dly, that
general good will and affection due to men ;
whereas there are many who do not only out-
wardly express, but inwardly bear more re-
gard to some dog or horse that they love,
than to poor distressed men, and in so doing,
do reflect dishonor upon themselves, and upon
mankind.
The outward behavior wherein we owe
honor to all, is nothing but a conformity to
this inward temper of mind; for he that in-
wardly despiseth none, but esteemeth the
good that is in the lowest, or at least esteem-
eth them in that they are men, and loves
them as such, will accordingly use no out-
ward sign of disdain of any; he will not have
a scornful eye nor a reproachful tongue to
move at any, not the meanest of his servants,
nor the worst of his enemies; but, on the con-
trary, will acknowledge the good that is in
every man, and give unto all that outward
WER. 17.]
175
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
respect that is convenient for them, and
that they are capable of, and will be ready to
do them good as he hath opportunity and
ability.
But instead of walking by this rule of hon-
oring all men, what is there almost to be
found among men, but a perverse proneness
to dishonor one another, and every man ready
to dishonor all men, that he may honor him-
self, reckoning that what he gives to others
is lost to himself, and taking what he detracts
from others as good booty to make up him-
self? Set aside men's own interest, and that
common civility which for their own credit
they use one with another, and truly there
will be found very little of this real respect
to others, proceeding from obedience to God
and love to men—little disposition to be ten-
der of their reputation and good name, and
their welfare as of our own (for so the rule
is), but we shall find mutual disesteem and
defamation filling almost all societies.
And the bitter root of this iniquity is, that
wicked, accursed self-love which dwells in
us. Every man is naturally his own grand
idol, would be esteemed and honored by any
means, and to magnify that idol self, kills the
good name and esteem of others in sacrifice
to it. Hence, the narrow-observing eye and
broad-speaking tongue, upon anything that
tends to the dishonor of others; and where
other things fail, the disdainful upbraiding of
their birth, or calling, or anything that coraes
next to hand, serves for a reproach. And
hence arises a great part of the Jars and strifes
among men, the most part being drunk with
an overweening opinion of themselves, and
the unworthiest the most so. The sluggard,
says Solomon, is wiser in his own conceit than
seven men that can render a reason, Proverbs
xxvi. 16; and not finding others of their mind,
this frets and troubles them. They take the
ready course to deceive themselves; for they
look with both eyes on the failings and de-
fects of others, and scarcely give their good
qualities half an eye; while, on the contrary,
in themselves, they study to the full their
own advantages, and their weaknesses and
defects (as one says) they skip over, as chil-
dren do the hard words in their lesson, that
are troublesome to read ; and making this un-
even parallel, what wonder if the result be a
gross mistake of themselves | Men overrate
themselves at home : they reckon that they
ought to be regarded, and that their mind
should carry it ; and when they come abroad,
and are crossed in this, this puts them out of
all temper. -
But the humble man, as is he is more con-
formable to this Divine rule, so he hath more
i. by it; for he sets so low a rate upon
imself in his own thoughts, that it is scarce-
ly possibly for any to go lower in judging of
him ; and therefore, as he pays due respect to
others to the full, and gives no ground of
quarrel that way, so he challenges no such
debt to himself, and thus avoids the usual
contests that arise in this. Only by pride
comes contention, says Solomon, Prov. xiii.
10. A man that will walk abroad in a crowd-
ed street, can not choose but be often jostled ;
but he that contracts himself, passes through
more easily.
Study, therefore, this excellent grace of hu-
mility ; not the personated acting of it in ap-
pearance, which may be a chief agent for
pride, but true lowliness of mind, which will
make you to be nothing in your own eyes,
and content to be so in the eyes of others.
Then will you obey this word; you will es-
teem all men as is meet, and not be troubled
though all men disesteem you. As this hu-
mility is a precious grace, so it is the pre-
server of all other graces, and without it (if
they could be without it), they were but as a
box of precious powder carried in the wind
without a cover, in danger of being scattered
and blown away. If you would have honor,
there is an ambition both allowed you, and
worthy of you, whosoever you are; ºt\ortuojueba,
Rom. ii. 7; 2 Cor. v. 9; other honor, though
it have its Hebrew name from weight, is all
too light, and weighs only with cares and
troubles.
Love the brotherhood.] There is a love, as
we said, due to all, included under that word
of honoring all, but a peculiar love to our
Christian brethren, whom the Apostle Paul
calls by a like word, the household of faith,
Gal. vi. 10.
Christian brethren are united by a three-
fold cord ; two of them are common to other
men, but the third is the strongest, and theirs
peculiarly. Their bodies are descended of
the same man, and their souls of the same
God ; but their new life, by which they are
most entirely brethren, is derived from the
same God-man, Jesus Christ; yea, in him,
they are all one body, receiving life from him
their glorious head, who is called the first-
born among many brethren, Romans viii. 29.
And as his unspeakable love was the source
of this new being and fraternity, so doubtless
it can not but produce indissoluble love among
them that are partakers of it. The spirit of
love and concord is that precious ointment
that runs down from the head of our great
High Priest to the skirts of his garment. The
life of Christ and this law of love are com-
bined, and can not be severed. Can there be
enmity between those hearts that meet in
him 2 Why do you pretend yourselves Chris-
tians, and yet remain not only strangers to
this love, but most contrary to it, biters and
devourers one of another, and will not be con-
vinced of the great guiltiness and uncomeli-
ness of strifes and envyings among you? Is
this the badge that Christ hath left his breth-
ren, to wrangle and malign one another ? Do
you not know, on the contrary, that they are
to be known by mutual love 2 By this shall
all men know that you are my disciples, if ye
love one another. John xiii. 35. How often
doth that beloved disciple press this He
176
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
drank deep of that well-spring of love that
was in the breast on which he leaned, and
(if they relate aright) he died exhorting this,
Love one another. Oh! that there was more of
this love of Christ in our hearts, arising from
the sense of his love to us ! That would teach
this mutual love more effectually, which the
preaching of it may set before us, but, with-
out that other teaching, can not work within
us. Why do we still hear these things in
vain 2 Do we believe what the love of Christ
did to us, and suffered for us? And will we
do nothing for him—not forgive a shadow, a
fancy of injury, much less a real one, for his
sake, and love him that wronged us, whoev-
er he be, but especially being one of our
brethren in this spiritual sense ?
Many are the duties of this peculiar frater-
mal love; that mutual converse, and admoni-
tion, and reproof, and comforting, and other
duties which are fallen into neglect, not only
among formal, but even among real Chris-
tians. Let us entreat more of His Spirit
. is love, and that will remedy this
6WII.
Fear God..] All the rules of equity and
charity among men flow from a higher prin-
ciple, and depend upon it ; and there is no
right observing of them without due regard
to that: therefore this word, which expresses
that principle of obedience, is fitly inserted
among these rules; the first obligation of man
being to the sovereign majesty of God who
made him, and all the mutual duties of one
to another being derived from that. A man
may indeed, from moral principles, be of a
mild inoffensive carriage, and do civil right
to all men; but this answers not the Divine
rule even in these same things, after the way
that it requires them. The spiritual and re-
ligious observance of these duties toward
men, springs from a respect to God, and ter-
minates there too; it begins and ends in him.
And generally, all obedience to his commands,
both such as regulate our behavior toward
himself immediately, and such as relate to
man, doth arise from a holy fear of his name.
Therefore, this fear of God, upon which fol-
lows necessarily the keeping of his command-
ments, is given us by Solomon as the total
sum of man’s business and duty, Eccl. xii.
wlt., and so, the way to solid happiness: he
pronounces it totum hominis, the whole of
man. After he had made his discoveries of
all things besides under the sun, gone the
whole circuit, and made an exact valuation, he
found all besides this to amount to nothing but
vanity and veration of spirit. The account
he gives of all other things, was only for this
purpose, to illustrate and establish this truth
the more, and to make it the more accepta-
ble ; to be a repose after so much weariness,
and such a tedious journey, and so, as he
speaks there, verse 10, a word of delight as
well as a word of truth : that the mind might
sit down and quiet itself in this, from the tur-
moil and pursuit of vanity, that keep it busy
to no purpose in all other things. But whereas
there was emptiness and vanity, that is, just
nothing, in all other things, there was not
only something to be found, but everything
in this one, this fear of God, and that keep-
ing of his commandments, which is the proper
fruit of that fear. All the repeated declaring
of vanity in other things, both severally and
altogether in that book, are but so many
strokes to drive and fasten this nail (as it is
there, ver. 11), this word of wisdom, which
is the sum of all, and contains all the rest.
So Job, after a large inquest for wisdom,
searching for its vein, as men do for mines
of silver and gold, hath the return of a Non
inventum est, from all the creatures: The sea
says, It is not in me, &c. But in the close,
he finds it in this, The fear of the Lord, that
is wisdom, and to depart from evil, that is un-
derstanding. Job xxviii. ult.
Under this fear is comprehended all reli-
gion, both inward and outward, all the wor-
ship and service of God, and all the observ-
ance of his commandments, which is there
(Eccl. xii.) and elsewhere expressly joined
with it, and therefore is included in it, when
it is not expressed. So Job xxviii., as above,
To depart from evil is understanding, repeat-
ing in effect the former words by these. So
Psalm czi. 10. It hath in it all holiness and
obedience ; they grow all out of it. It is the
beginning, and it is the top or consummation
of wisdom, for the word signifies both.
Think it not, then, a trivial, common mat-
ter to speak or hear of this subject; but take
it as our great lesson and business here on
earth. The best proficients in it have yet
need to learn it better, and it requires our in-
cessant diligence and study all our days.
This fear hath in it chiefly these things:
1. A reverential esteem of the majesty of
God, which is a main, fundamental thing in
religion, and moulds the heart most power-
fully to the obedience of his will. 2. A firm
belief of the purity of God, and of his
power and justice, that he loves holiness,
and hates all sin, and can and will punish
it. 3. A right apprehension of the bitter-
ness of his wrath, and the sweetness of his
love ; that his incensed anger is the most ter-
rible and intolerable thing in the world, ab-
solutely the most fearful of all evils, and, on
the other hand, his love, of all good things
the best, the most blessed and delightful, yea,
the only blessedness. Life is the name of the
sweetest good we know, and yet, his loving-
kindness is better than life, says David, Psalm
lxiii. 3. 4. It supposes, likewise, sovereign
love to God, for his own infinite excellency
and goodness. 5. From all these springs a
most earnest desire to please him in all
things, and an unwillingness to offend him in
the least, and because of our danger through
the multitude and strength of temptations,
and our own weakness, a continual self-sus-
picion, a § fear lest we should sin, a care
Il
and watchfulness that we sin not, and deep
WER. 17.]
177
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
sorrow, and speedy returning and humbling
before him when we have sinned.
There is, indeed, a base kind of fear,
which, in the usual distinction, they call ser-
vile fear ; but to account all fear of the judg-
ments and wrath of God a servile fear, or
§. to stand upon words), to account such a
ear improper to the children of God, I con-
ceive is a wide mistake. Indeed, to fear
the punishments of sin, without regard to
God and his justice as the inflicter of
them, or to forbear to sin only because of
those punishments, so that if a man can be
secured from those, he hath no other respect
to God that would make him fear to offend—
this is the character of a slavish and base
mind. Again, for a man so to apprehend
wrath in relation to himself, as to be still
under the horror of it in that notion, and not
to apprehend redemption and deliverance by
Jesus Christ, is to be under that spirit of bond-
age, which the apostle speaks of, Rom. viii.
15. And though a child of God may for a
time be under such fear, yet, the lively act-
ings of faith and persuasion of God's love, and
the feeling of reflex love to him in the soul,
do cast it out, according to that word of the
apostle, 1 John iv. 18, True (or perfect) love
casteth out fear. But to apprehend the punish-
ments which the Lord threatens against sin,
as certain and true, and to consider the great-
ness and fearfulness of them, especially the
terror of the Lord's anger and hot displeasure,
above all punishments, and (though not only,
no, nor chiefly for these, yet), in contempla-
tion of these, as very great and weighty, to
be afraid to offend that God who hath threat-
ened such things as the just reward of sin;
this, I say, is not incongruous with the estate
of the sons of God, yea, it is their duty and
their property even thus to fear.
1st. This is the very end for which God
hath published these intimations of his jus-
tice, and hath threatened to punish men if
they transgress, to the end that they may fear
and not transgress: so that not to look upon
them thus, and not to be affected with them
answerably to their design, were a very griev-
ous sin; a slight and disregard put upon the
words of the great God.
2dly. Above all others, the children of God
have the rightest and clearest knowledge of
God, and the deepest belief of his word, and
therefore they can not choose but be afraid,
and more afraid than all others, to fall under
the stroke of his hand. They know more of
the greatness, and truth, and justice of God
than others, and therefore they fear when he
threatens. My flesh trembleth for fear of
thee (says David), and I am aſraid of thy
judgments. Psalm crix. 120. Yea, they trem-
ble when they hear the sentence against oth-
ers, or see it executed upon them; it moves
them when they see public executions;
Knowing the terror of the Lord, we persuade
men, says St. Paul, 2 Cor. v. 11; and they
cry out with Moses, Psalm xc. 11, Who
knows the power of thine anger ? Even ac-
cording to thy fear so is thy wrath It is
not an imagination or invention that makes
men fear more than they need. His wrath is
as terrible as any, that fear it most, can ap-
prehend, and beyond that. So that this doth
not only consist with the estate of the saints,
but is their very character, to tremble at the
word of their Lord. The rest neglect what
he says, till death and judgment seize on
them ; but the godly know and believe, that
it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of
the living God. Heb. x. 31.
And though they have firm promises, and
a kingdom that can not be shaken, yet, they
have still this grace by which they serve God
acceptably with reverence and godly fear ;
even in this consideration, that our God, even
he that is ours by peculiar covenant, is a con-
suming fire. Heb. xii. 28, 29.
But indeed, together with this, yea, more
than by this, they are persuaded to fear the
Lord, by the sense of his great love to them,
and by the power of that love that works in
them toward him, and is wrought in them by
his. They shall fear the Lord and his good-
ness in their latter days. Hos. iii. 5. In
those days, his goodness shall manifest itself
more than before; the beams of his love shall
break forth more abundantly in the days of
the gospel, and shall beat more direct and
hotter on the hearts of men ; and then, they
shall fear him more, because they shall love
him more.
This fear agrees well both with faith and
love, yea, they work this fear. Compare
Psalm xxxi. 23, with Psalm xxxiv. 9, and
that same Psalm xxxiv., ver. 8 with ver. 9,
and Psalm crii., ver, 1 with ver, 7. The
heart touched with the loadstone of Divine
love, ever trembles with this godly fear, and
still looks fixedly by faith to that star of Ja-
cob, Jesus Christ, who guides it to the haven
of happiness.
The looking upon God in the face of Jesus
Christ, takes off that terror of his counte-
nance that drives men from him; and in the
smiles of his hove that appear through Christ,
there is such a power as unites their hearts
to him, but unites them so, as to fear his
name, as the psalmist's prayer is, Psalm
lxxxvi. 11. He puts such a fear in their
hearts as will not cause them to depart from,
yea, causes that they shall not depart from
him. Jer. xxxii. 40.
And this is the purest and highest kind of
godly fear, that springs from love: and though
it excludes not the consideration of wrath, as
terrible in itself, and even some fear of it, yet
it may surmount it; and doubtless, where
much of that love possesses the heart, it will
sometimes drown the other consideration, so
that it shall scarcely be perceptible at all,
and will constantly set it aside, and will per-
suade a man purely for the goodness, and
loveliness of God, to fear to offend him,
though there were no interest at all in it
12
178
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
of a man's own personal misery or happi-
Il CSS,
But do we thus fear the Lord our God?
What mean, them, our oaths, and excesses,
and uncleanness, our covetousness, and gene-
rally our unholy and unchristian conversa-
tion ? This fear would make men tremble,
So as to shake them out of their profane cus-
toms, and to shake their beloved sins out of
their bosoms. The knowledge of the holy
One causes fear of him. Prov. ix. 18.
But alas! we know him not, and therefore
we fear him not. Know we but a little of
the great majesty of God, how holy he is,
and how powerful a punisher of unholiness,
we should not dare provoke him thus, who
can kill both body and soul, and cast them
into hell, as our Savior tells us, Matt. x. 28.
And he will do so with both, if we will not
fear him, because he can do so; and it is told
us that we may fear, and so not feel, this
heavy wrath. A little lively, spiritual knowl-
edge would go far, and work much, which a
great deal, such as ours is, doth not. Some
such word as that of Joseph, would do much,
being engraven on the heart: Shall I do this
evil and sin against God 2 Gen. xxxix. 9. It
would make a man be at no more liberty to
sin in secret than in public; no, not to dis-
pense with the sin of his thoughts, more than
of the openest words or actions. If some
grave wise man did see our secret behavior
and our thoughts, should we not look more
narrowly to them, and not suffer such rovings
and follies in ourselves? Surely, therefore,
we forget God's eye, which we could not, if
we thought of it aright, but should respect it
more, than if all men did see within us.
Nor is this the main point to be pressed
upon the ungodly only, but the children of
God themselves have much need to be put in
mind of this fear, and to increase in it. " How
often do they abuse the indulgence of soloving
a Father? They have not their thoughts so
constantly full of him, are not in his fear (as
Solomon advises) all the day long, Prov.
xxiii. 17, but many times slip out of his direct-
ing hand, and wander from him, and do not
so deeply fear his displeasure, and so watch
over all their ways, as becomes them: they do
not keep close by him, and wait on his voice,
and obey it constantly, and are not so hum-
bled and afflicted in their repentings for sin,
as this fear requires, but only in a slight and
superficial degree. They offer much lip-labor,
which is but dead service to the living God.
These are things, my beloved, that concern
us much, and that we ought seriously to lay
to heart; for even they who are freed from
condemnation, yet if they will walk fearless-
ly and carelessly at any time, he hath ways
enough to make them Smart for it. And if
there were nothing more, should it not wound
them deeply, to think how they requite so
great, so unspeakable love?
Honor the king.] This was the particular
that the apostle pressed and insisted on before;
and here he repeats it as a special duty of the
second table, and a windication of religion,
which is wrongfully blamed in this point;
but of this before.
This is out of question in the general; only
in the measure and rule of it, is the difference.
And surely they can not possibly be satisfied,
who are so drunk with power as to admit of
none at all,—no measure nor rate for it, no
banks nor channel for those rivers, the hearts
and wills of kings to run in, but think that if
they like to run over all they may.
This is such a wild conceit as destroys both
all law of reason in human societies, and all
religious obligation to the laws of God. For
the qualification and measure, I shall mention
no other than that in the text, that it be al-
ways regulated by what here goes before it,
the fear of God ; that we never think of any
such obedience and honor due to kings, as
crosseth that fear which is due to God. Let
kings, and subjects, and all know that they
are absolutely bound to this. It is spoken
to kings, Psalm ii. 11, Serve the Lord in fear;
and to all men, Psalm ix. 6, Fear before him,
all the earth, for he is great, and greatly to
be praised ; he is to be feared above all gods.
What is man in respect of him? Shall a worm,
whose breath is in his nostrils, stand in com-
petition with the ever-living God? Shall an
earthen potsherd strive with his Maker & Let
the potsherds strive with the potsherds of the
earth ; –let them work one against another,
and try which is hardest, and so they shall
often break each other;-but, Wo to him that
striveth with his Maker. Isa. xlv. 9. There
is nothing here but certain perishing. As we
conclude in the question with the church of
Rome, of the honor due to saints and angels,
honor let them have, with good reason, but
not Divine honor, not God’s peculiar: So, in
this, give to Caesar the things that are Caesar's,
but withal, still give to God the things that
are God’s.
But it is a miserable estate of a kingdom,
when debates on this head arise and increase;
and their happiness is, when kings and peo-
ple concur to honor God: For those that honor
him, he will honor, and whosoever despises him,
shall be lightly esteemed. 1 Sam. ii. 30.
VER. 18. Servants, be subject to your masters with
all fear ; not only to the good and gentle, but also
to the froward.
VER. 19. For this is thank-worthy, if a man for con-
science toward God endure grief, suffering wrong-
fully.
WER. %. For what glory is it, if, when ye be buffeted
for your faults, ye shall, take it patiently? But if,
when ye do well and suffer for it, ye take it patient-
ly; this is acceptable with God.
Thy word (says the Psalmist) is a light to
my feet and a lamp to my paths, Psalm crix.
165;—not only a light to please his eyes, by
the excellent truths and comforts that are in
it, but withal a lamp to direct his feet in the
precepts and rules of life that it gives: not
bnly to inform and delight his mind, but also
WER. 18–20.]
179
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
to order his course. That philosopher was
deservedly commended, who drew knowledge
Imost this way, and therefore was said to have
brought philosophy from the clouds to dwell
among men, calling it from empty specula-
tions to a practical strain. Thus we are
taught in spiritual knowledge by the word of
God. The Son, the etermal word, when he
came to dwell with men, and so brought life,
and wisdom, and all blessings from the
heavens down unto them, taught them both
by his doctrine and perfect example, how to
walk; and his apostles do, conformably, aim
at this in their holy writings, joining with
the mysteries of faith, those rules of life which
show men the straight way to happiness.
And as it is spoken of the largeness of
Solomon's wisdom, that he spake of all trees,
from the cedar in Lebanon, to the hyssop that
grows out of the wall (1 Kings iv. 33), so in
this, we may see the perfection of the holy
Scriptures, that they give those directions
that are needful to all ranks and sorts of men.
They speak not only of the duties of kings,
how they ought to behave themselves on
their thrones, and the duty of their subjects
toward them in that dignity, and how min-
lsters and others ought to carry themselves
in the house of God; but they come into
private houses, and give economic rules for
them; teaching parents, and children, and
masters, yea, and servants, how to acquit
themselves one to another. Thus here, ser-
vants be subject to your masters.
As this is a just plea for all the people of
God, that they have a right to the use of this
Book, being so useful for all sorts, and that
they ought not to be debarred from it; so, it
is a just plea against a great part of those
that debar themselves the use of it. through
slothfulness and earthly mindedness, seeing
it is so contempered, that there may be many
things, yea, all the main things in it profita-
ble for all, fitted to the use of the lowest es-
tate and lowest capacities of men. Yea, it
takes (as we see) particular notice of their
condition; stoops down to take the meanest
servant by the hand, to lead him in the way
to heaven; and not only in that part of it
which is the general way of Christians, but
even in those steps of it that lie within the
walk of their particular calling ; as here,
teaching not only the duties of a Christian,
out of a Christian servant.
Obs. 1. The Scriptures are a deep that few
:an wade far into, and none can wade through
“as those waters, Ezek. lxvii. 5), but yet, all
may come to the brook and refresh them-
selves with drinking of the streams of its
living water, and go in a little way, accord-
ing to their strength and stature. Now this
(I say) may be spoken to our shame, and I
wish it might shame you to amendment, that
so many of you either use not the Scrip-
tures at all, or, in using, do not use them ;
you turn over the leaves, and, it may
be, run through the lines, and consider not
what they advise you. Masters, learn your
part, and servants too, hearken what they
say to you, for they pass not you by, they
vouchsafe to speak to you too, but you vouch-
Safe not to hear them, and observe their
voice. How can you think that the reading
of this Book concerns you not, when you
may hear it address such particular direc-
tions to you ? Wisdom goes not only to the
gates of palaces, but to the common gates
of the cities, and to the public highways,
and calls to the simplest that she may make
them wise. Besides that you dishonor God,
you prejudice yourselves; for does not that
neglect of God and his word justly procure
the disorder and disobedience of your ser-
wants toward you, as a fit punishment from
his righteous hand, although they are un-
righteous, and are procuring further judg-
ment to themselves in so doing 2 And not
only thus is your neglect of the word a cause
of your trouble by the justice of God, but it
is so in regard of the nature of the word, in-
asmuch as if you would respect it, and make
use of it in your houses, it would teach your
servants to respect and obey you, as here
you see it speaks for you ; and therefore you
wrong both it and yourselves, when you si-
lence it in your families.
Obs. 2. The apostle having spoken of sub-
jection to public authority, adds this of sub-
jection to private domestic authority. It is
a thing of much concernment, the right or-
dering of families; for all other societies,
civil and religious, are made up of these.
Willages, and cities, and churches, and com-
monwealths, and kingdoms, are but a collec-
tion of families; and therefore such as these
are, for the most part, such must the whole
societies predominantly be. One particular
house is but a very small part of a kingdom,
yet, the wickedness and lewdness of that
house, be it but of the meanest in it, of ser-
vants one or more, and though it seem but a
small thing, yet goes in to make up that
heap of sin which provokes the wrath of
God, and draws on public calamity.
And this particularly, when it declines into
disorder, proves a public evil. When ser-
vants grow generally corrupt, and disobedi-
ent, and unfaithful, though they be the low-
est part, yet the whole body of a Common-
wealth can not but feel very much the evil
of it; as a man does when his legs and feet
grow diseased, and begin to fail him.
We have here, 1. Their duty. 2. The due
extent of it. 3. The right principle of it.
1st. Their duty, be subject. Keep your
order and station under your masters, and
that with fear, and inward reverence of mind
and respect to them ; for that is the very life
of all obedience. Then their obedience hath
in it diligent doing, and patient suffering ;
both these are in that word, be subject. Do
faithfully to your utmost that which is in-
trusted to you, and obey all their just com-
mands, for action indeed goes no further; but
180
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
suffer patiently even their utmost rigors and
severities. And this being the harder part
of the two, and yet, a part that the servants
of those times bore, many of them being
more hardly and slavishly used than any with
us (especially those that were Christian ser-
vants under unchristian masters), therefore
the apostle insists most on this. And this is
the extent of the obedience here required,
that it be paid to all kinds of masters, not to
the good only, but also to the evil ; not only
to obey, but to suffer, and suffer patiently,
and not only deserved, but even wrongful
and unjust punishment.
Now because this particular concerns ser-
vants, let them reflect upon their own car-
riage and examine it by this rule; and truly
the greatest part of them will be found very
unconformable to it, being either closely
fraudulent and deceitful, or grossly stubborn
and disobedient, abusing the lenity and mild-
ness of their masters, or murmuring at their
just severity. So far are they from the pa-
tient endurance of the least undue word of
reproof, much less of sharper punishment,
either truly, or, in their opinion, undeserved.
And truly, if any who profess religion, dis-
pense with this in themselves, they mistake
the matter very much ; for religion ties them
the more, whether children or servants, to
be most submissive and obedient even to the
worst kind of parents and masters, always in
the Lord ; not obeying any unjust command,
though they may and ought to suffer patiently
(as it is here) their unjust reproofs or punish-
ImentS.
But on the other side, this does not justify,
nor at all excuse the unmerciful austerities
and unbridled passion of masters; it is still a
perverseness and crookedness in them, as the
word is here, okoxtois, and must have its own
name, and shall have its proper reward from
the sovereign Master and Lord of all the
world.
2dly. There is here, also, the due extent
of this duty, namely, To the froward. It is
a more deformed thing, to have a distorted,
crooked mind, or a froward spirit, than any
crookedness of the body. How can he that
hath servants under him expect their obedi-
ence, when he can not command his own pas-
sion, but is a slave to it? And unless much
conscience of duty possess servants (more
than is commonly to be found with them), it
can not but work a master into such disaffec-
tion and disesteem with them, when he is of
a turbulent spirit, a troubler of his own house,
imbittering his affairs and commands with
rigidness and passion, and ready to take
things by that side which may offend and
trouble him, thinking his servant slights his
call, when he may as well think he hears
him not, and upon every slight occasion,
real or imagined, flying out into reproachful
speeches, or proud threats, contrary to the
apostle St. Paul's rule, which he sets over
against the duty of servants: Forbearing
threatening, knowing that your Master also
is in heaven, and that there is no respect of
persons with him. Eph. vi. 9. Think, there-
fore, when ye shall appear before the judg-
ment-seat of God, that your carriage shall be
examined and judged as well as theirs; and
think, that though we regard much those
differences of masters and servants, yet they
are nothing with God, they vanish away in
his presence.
Consider who made thee to differ. Might
he not, with a turn of his hand, have made
your stations just contrary, have made thee
the servant, and thy servant the master ? But
we willingly forget those things that should
compose our mind to humility and meekness,
and blow them up with such fancies as
please and feed our matural vanity, and make
us somebody in our own account.
However that Christian servant who falls
into the hands of a froward master, will not
be beaten out of his station and duty of obe-
dience by all the hard and wrongful usage he
meets with, but will take that as an opportu-
nity of exercising the more obedience and pa-
tience, and will be the more cheerfully pa-
tient, because of his innocence, as the apostle
here exhorts.
Men do indeed look sometimes upon this
as a just plea for impatience, that they suffer
unjustly, which yet is very ill logic ; for, as
the philosopher said, “Would any man that
frets because he suffers unjustly, wish to de-
serve it, that he might be patient 7” Now,
to hear them, they seem to speak so, when
they exclaim, that the thing that vexeth
them most, is, that they have not deserved any
such thing as is inflicted on them. Truly, de-
sert of punishment may make a man more
silent upon it, but innocence, rightly consid-
ered, makes him more patient. Guiltiness
stops a man's mouth, indeed, in suffering, but
Surely it doth not quiet his mind; on the con-
trary, it is that which mainly disturbs and
grieves him ; it is the sting of suffering, as
sin is said to be of death, 1 Cor. xv. 56. And
therefore, when there is no guilt, the pain of
suffering can not but be much abated ; yea,
the apostle here declares, that to suffer unde-
served, and withal patiently, is glorious to a
man, and acceptable to God. It is commend-
able, indeed, to be truly patient even in de-
served sufferings, but the deserving them tar-
nishes the lustre of that patience, and makes
it look more like restraint; which is the
apostle's meaning, in preferring spotless suf-
fering much before it. And this is indeed
the true glory of it, that it pleaseth God (so
it is rendered in the close of the 20th verse,
for the other word of glory in the beginning
of it); it is a pleasing thing in God's eyes,
and therefore he will thank a man for it, as
the word is xàpis mapá Geó. Though we owe
all our patience under all kinds of afflictions
as a duty to him, and though this grace is
his own gift, yet he hath obliged himself by
his royal word, not only to accept of it, but
VER. 18—20.]
181
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
to praise it and reward it in his children.
Though they lose their thanks at the world's
hands, and be rather scoffed at and taunted
in all their doings and sufferings, it is no
matter; they can expect no other there ; but
their reward is on high, in the sure and faith-
ful hand of their Lord.
How often do men work earnestly, and do
and suffer much for the uncertain wages of
glory and thanks among men And how
many of them fall short of their reckoning,
either dying before they come to that state
where they think to find it, or not finding it
where they looked for it, and so they live but
to feel the pain of their disappointment | Or,
if they do attain their end, such glory and
thanks as men have to give them, what
amounts it to ? Is it any other than a hand-
ful of nothing, the breath of their mouths,
and themselves much like it, a vapor dying
out in the air 2 The most real thanks they
give, their solidest rewards, are but such as a
man can not take home with him : or if they
go so far with him, yet, at farthest, he must
leave them at the door, when he is to enter
his everlasting home. All the riches, and
palaces, and monuments of honor, that he had,
and that are erected to him after death, as
if he had then some interest in them, reach
him not at all. Enjoy them who will, he
does not, he hath no portion of all that is
done under the sun ; his own end is to him
the end of the world.
But he that would have abiding glory and
thanks, must turn his eye another way for
them. All men desire glory, but they know
neither what it is, nor how it is to be sought.
He is upon the only right bargain of this kind,
whose praise (according to St. Paul’s word) is
not of men, but of God. Rom. ii. 29. If
men commend him not, he accounts it no
loss, nor any gain if they do; for he is bound
for a country where that coin goes not, and
whither he can not carry it, and therefore he
athers it not. That which he seeks in all,
is, that he may be approved and accepted of
God, whose thanks is no less, to the least of
those he accepts, than a crown of unfading
glory. Not a poor servant that fears his
name, and is obedient and patient for his
sake, but shall be so rewarded.
There be some kind of graces and good ac-
tions, which men (such as regard any grace)
take special notice of, and commend highly–
such as are of a magnific and remarkable
nature, as martyrdom, or doing or suffering
for religion in some public way. There be
again, other obscure graces, which, if men
despise them not, yet they esteem not much,
as meekness, gentleness, and patience under
private crosses, known to few or none. And
yet, these are of great account with God, and
therefore should be so with us; these are
indeed of more universal use, whereas the
other are but for high times, as we say, for
rare occasions: these are every one's work,
but few are called to the acting of the other.
And the least of these graces shall not lose
its reward, in whose person Soever, as St.
Paul tells us, speaking of this same subject,
Knowing that whatsoever good any man doeth,
the same shall he receive of the Lord, whether
he be bond or {: Eph. vi. 8.
This is the bounty of that great Master we
serve. For what are we and all we can do,
that there should be the name of reward at-
tached to it 2 Yet he keeps all in reckoning;
not a poor lame prayer, not a tear nor a sigh
poured forth before him, shall be lost. Not
any cross, whether from his own hand im-
mediately, or coming through men's hands,
that is taken, what way soever it come, as
out of his hand, and carried patiently, yea,
and welcomed, and embraced for his sake,
but he observes our so entertaining of it. Not
an injury that the meanest servant bears Chris-
tianly, but goes upon account with him. And
he sets them down so, as that they bear much
value through his estimate and way of reck-
oning of them, though in themselves they are
all less than nothing ; as a worthless counter
stands for hundreds or thousands, according
to the place you set it in. Happy they who
have to deal with such a Lord, and who, be
they servants or masters, are vowed servants
to him When he comes, his reward shall be
with him. Rev. xxii. 12.
The third thing is, the principle of this obe-
dience and patience. For conscience toward
God. This imports, first, the knowledge of
God, and of his will in some due measure,
and then a conscientious respect unto him
and his will so known, taking it for their only
rule in doing and suffering.
Observe, 1. This declares to us the freeness
of the grace of God in regard to men's out-
ward quality, that he doth often bestow the
riches of his grace upon persons of mean con-
dition. It is supposed here, that this con-
science toward God, this saving knowledge
and fear of his name, is to be found in ser-
wants: therefore the apostle takes them with-
in the address of his letter among those who
are elect, according to the foreknowledge of
God (ch. i. 2), and sharers of those dignities
he mentions (ch. ii. 9), a chosen generation.
The honor of a spiritual royalty may be con-
cealed under the meanness of a servant; and
this grace may be conferred upon the servant,
and denied to the master, as is here supposed.
It may fall out that a perverse crooked-minded
master may have a servant uprightly minded,
being endowed with a tender conscience tow-
ard God. And thus the Lord does to coun-
teract the pride of man, and to set off the lus-
tre of his own free grace. He hath all to
choose from, and yet chooses where, men
would least imagine. See Matthew xi. 25;
1 Cor. i. 27. ->
Observe, 2. Grace finds a way to exert it-
self in every estate where it exists, and regu-
lates the soul according to the particular du-
ties of that estate. Whether it find a man
high or low, a master or servant, it requires
182
[CHAP. IX
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
not a change of his station, but works a
change on his heart, and teaches him how to
live, in it. The same spirit that makes a
Christian master pious, and gentle, and pru-
dent in commanding, makes a Christian ser-
vant faithful, and obsequious and diligent in
obeying. A skilful engraver makes you a
statue indifferently of wood, or stone, or mar-
ble, as they are put into his hand; so, grace
forms a man to a Christian way of walking in
any estate. There is a way for him in the
meanest condition to glorify God, and to adorn
the profession of religion ; no estate so low as
to be shut out from that ; and a rightly-in-
formed and rightly-affected conscience tow-
ard God, shows a man that way, and causes
him to walk in it. As the astrologers say
that the same stars that made Cyrus to be
chosen king among the armies of men when
he came to be a man, made him to be chosen
king among the shepherd's children when he
was a child; thus grace will have its proper
operation in every estate.
In this, men readily deceive themselves;
they can do anything well in imagination,
better than the real task that is in their
hands. They presume that they could do
God good service in some place of command,
who serve him not, as becomes them, in that
which is by far the easier, the place of obey-
ing wherein he hath set them. They think
that if they had the ability and opportunities
that some men have, they would do much
more for religion, and for God, than they do;
and yet they do nothing, but spoil a far lower
part than that which is their own, and is
given them to study and act aright in. But
our folly and self-ignorance abuses us: it is
not our part to choose what we should be,
but to be what we are, to his glory who gives
us to be such. Be thy condition never so mean,
yet, thy conscience toward God, if it be with-
in thee, will find itself work in that. If it be
little that is intrusted to thee, in regard of thy
outward condition, or any other way, be thou
faithful in that little, as our Savior speaks,
and thy reward shall not be little: He shall
znake thee ruler over much. Matt. xxv. 23.
Observe, 3. As a corrupt mind debaseth
the best and most excellent callings and ac-
tions, so the lowest are raised above them-
selves, and ennobled by a spiritual mind.
Magistrates or ministers, though their calling
and employments be high, may have low in-
tentions, and draw down their high calling to
those low intentions; they may seek them-
selves, and their own selfish ends, and neg-
lect God. And a sincere Christian may ele-
vate his low calling by this conscience toward
God, observing his will, and intending his
glory in it. An eagle may fly high, and yet
have its eye down upon some carrion on the
earth : even so, a man may be standing on
the earth, and on some low part of it, and yet
have his eye upon heaven, and be contem-
plating it. That which men can not at all
see in one another, is the very thing that is
most considerable in their actions, namely
the principle whence they flow, and the end
to which they tend. This is the form and
life of actions—that by which they are earth-
ly or heavenly. Whatsoever be the matter
of them, the spiritual mind hath that alchymy
indeed, of turning base metals into gold, earth-
ly employments into heavenly. The handi-
work of an artisan or servant who regards
God, and eyes him even in that work, is
much holier than the prayer of a hypocrite ;
and a servant's enduring the private wrongs
and harshness of a froward master, bearing it
patiently for conscience toward God, is more
acceptable to God, than the sufferings of
such as may endure much for a public good
cause, without a good and upright heart.
This habitude and posture of the heart
toward God, the Apostle St. Paul presses
much upon servants, Eph. vi. 8, as being very
needful to allay the hard labor and harsh
usage of many of them. This is the way to
make all easy, to undergo it for God. There
is no pill so bitter, but respect and love to
God will sweeten it. And this is a very
great refreshment and comfort to Christians
in the mean estate of servants and other la-
boring men, that they may offer up their
hardship and bodily labor as a sacrifice to
God, and say, “Lord, this is the station
wherein thou hast set me in this world, and
I desire to serve thee in it. What I do is for
thee, and what I suffer I desire to bear pa-
tiently and cheerfully for thy sake, in sub-
mission and obedience to thy will.”
For conscience.] In this there is, 1. A rev-
erential compliance with God's disposal, both
in allotting to them that condition of life, and
in particularly choosing their master for them:
though possibly not the mildest and pleasant-
est, yet the fittest for their good. There is
much in firmly believing this, and in heartily
submitting to it; for we would, naturally,
rather carve for ourselves, and shape our own
estate to our mind, which is a most foolish,
yea, an impious presumption : as if we were
wiser than he who hath done it, and as if
there were not as much, and, it may be,
more possibility of true contentment in a
mean, than in a far higher condition . The
master’s mind is often more toiled than the
servant's body. But if our condition be ap-
pointed us, at least we would have a voice in
some qualifications and circumstances of it ;
as in this, if a man must serve, he would
wish willingly that God would allot him a
meek, gentle master. And so, in other things,
if we must be sick, we would be well accom-
modated, and not want helps ; but to have
sickness, and want means and friends for our
help, this we can not think of without horror.
But this submission to God is never right till
all that concerns us be given up into his hand,
to do with it, and with every article and cir-
cumstance of it, as seems good in his eyes.
2. In this conscience, there is a religious and
observant respect to the rule which God hath
VER. 21—23.]
183
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
set men to walk by in that condition: so that
their obedience depends not upon any exter-
nal inducement, failing when that fails, but
flows from an inward impression of the law
of God upon the heart. Thus, a servant's
obedience and patience will not be pinned to
the goodness and equity of his master, but
when that fails, will subsist upon its own in-
ward ground; and so, generally, in all other
estates. This is the thing that makes sure
and constant walking; makes a man step
even in the ways of God. When a man's
obedience springs from that unfailing, un-
changing reason, the command of God, it is
a natural motion, and therefore keeps on, and
rather grows than abates; but they who are
moved by things outward, must often fail,
because those things are not constant in their
moving ; as, for instance, when a people are
much acted on by the spirit of their rulers,
as the Jews when they had good kings. 3.
In this conscience, there is a tender care of
the glory of God, and the adornment of reli-
gion, which the apostle premised before these
particular duties, as a thing to be specially
regarded in them. The honor of our Lord's
name, is that which we should set up as the
mark to aim all our actions at. But, alas !
either we think not on it, or our hearts slip
out, and start from their aim, like bows of de-
ceit, as the word is, Ps. lxxviii. 57. 4. There
is the comfortable persuasion of God’s appro-
bation and acceptance (as it is expressed in
the following verse, of which somewhat be-
fore), and the hope of that reward he hath
promised, as it is, Col. iii. 24: Knowing that
of the Lord ye shall receive the inheritance,
for ye serve the Lord Christ. No less than
the inheritance 1 So, then, such servants as
these are sons and heirs of God, co-heirs with
Christ. Thus he that is a servant, may be
in a far more excellent state than his master.
The servant may hope for, and aim at a
kingdom, while the master is embracing a
dunghill. And such a one will think highly
of God’s free grace, and the looking ever to
that inheritance makes him go cheerfully
through all pains and troubles here, as light
and momentary, and not worth the naming
in comparison of that glory that shall be re-
vealed. In the meantime, the best and most
easy condition of the sons of God can not sat-
isfy them, nor stay their sighs and groans,
waiting and longing for that day of their full
redemption. Rom. viii. 16, 23.
Now this is the great rule, not only for ser-
vants, but for all the servants of God in what
state soever, to set the Lord always before
them, Psalm xvi. 8, and to study with St.
Paul, to have a conscience void of offence
toward God and man, Acts xxiv. 16; to eye,
and to apply constantly to their actions and
their inward thoughts, the command of God ;
to walk by that rule abroad, and at home in
their houses, and in the several ways of their
calling (as an exact workman is ever and
anon laying his rule to his work, and squar-
in the holy Scriptures.
ing it); and for the conscience they have tow-
ard God, to do and suffer his will cheerfully
in everything, being content that he choose
their condition and their trials for them ; only
desirous to be assured that he hath chosen
them for his own, and given them a right to
the glorious liberty of the sons of God, Rom.
viii.21; still endeavoring to walk in that way
which leads to it, overlooking this moment,
and all things in it, accounting it a very in-
different matter what is their outward state
here, provided they may be happy in eternity.
Whether we be high or low here, bond or
free, it imports little, seeing that all these
differences will be so quickly at an end, and
there shall not be so much as any track or
footstep of them left. With particular men,
it is so in their graves; you may distinguish
the greater from the less by their tombs, but
by their dust you can not: and with the whole
world it shall be so in the end. All monu-
ments and palaces, as well as cottages, shall
be made fire, as our apostle tells us. The ele-
ments shall melt with fervent heat, and the
earth, and all the works therein, shall be burnt
wp. 2 Pet. iii. 10.
VER. 21. For even hereunto were ye called; because
Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example,
that ye should follow his steps:
VER. 22. Who did no sin, neither was guile found in
his mouth :
VER. 23. Who, when he was reviled, reviled not
again; when he suffered, he threatened not; but
committed himself to him that judgeth righteously.
THE rules that God hath set men to live by,
are universally just, and there is a universal
obligation upon all men to believe them ; but
as they are particularly addressed to his own
people in his word, they, out of question, are
particularly bound to yield obedience, and
have many peculiar persuasives to it, not ex-
tending to others, which are therefore usually
represented to them, and pressed upon them,
Thus the preface of
the law runs to Israel: Besides that I am Je-
hovah, and have supreme power to give men
laws, it is added, I am thy God, especially
thy deliverer from slavery and bondage, and
so have a peculiar right to thy obedience.
Deut. vii. 6. Thus, the apostle here urgeth
this point in hand, of inoffensiveness and pa-
tience, particularly in Christian servants, but
so as it fits every Christian in his station, For
hereunto, says he, ye are called. Whatsoever
others do, though they think it too straight a
rule, yet you are tied to it by your own calling
and profession as you are Christians; and this
is evidently the highest and clearest reason
that can be, and of greatest power with a
Christian, namely, the example of Jesus
Christ himself: For Christ also suffered for
ws, &c. &
So, it is all but one entire argument, viz.,
that they ought thus to behave themselyes,
because it is the very thing they are called to,
as their conformity to Jesus Christ, whose
they profess to be, yea, with whom, as
184
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
Christians, they profess themselves to be
Oſle.
Hereunto were ye called.] This, in the
general, is a thing that ought to be ever be-
fore our eye, to consider the nature and end
of our calling, and to endeavor in all things
to act suitably to it; to think in every occur-
rence, What doth the calling of a Christian
require of me in this? But the truth is, the
most do not mind this. We profess ourselves
to be Christians, and never think what kind
of behavior this obliges us to, and what man-
ner of persons it becomes us to be in all holy
conversation, but walk disorderly, out of our
rank, inordinately. You that are profane,
Were you called by the gospel to serve the
world and your lusts 2 Were you called to
Swearing and rioting and voluptuousness 2
Hear you not the apostle testifying the con-
trary, in express terms, that God hath not
called us to uncleanness but unto holiness 2
1 Thess. iv. 7. You that are of proud con-
tentious, spirits, do you act suitably to this
holy calling 3 No, for we are called to peace,
says the same apostle. 1 Cor. vii. 15. But
We study not this holy calling, and therefore,
We walk so incongruously, so unlike the gos-
pel: we lie and do not the truth, as St. John
speaks, 1 John i. 6: our actions belie us.
The particular things that Christians are
here said to be called to, are, suffering, as
their lot, and patience, as their duty, even
under the most unjust and undeserved suf.
ferings.
And both these are as large as the sphere
of this calling. Not only servants and others
of a mean condition, who, lying low, are the
more subject to rigors and injuries, but gene-
rally, all who are called to godliness, are like-
Wise called to sufferings. 2 Tim. iii. 12. All
that will follow Christ, must do it in his livery;
they must take up their cross. This is a very
harsh and unpleasing article of the gospel to
a carnal mind, but the Scriptures conceal it
not. Men are not led blindfold into suffer-
ings, and drawn into a hidden snare by the
gospel's invitations; they are told it very
often, that they may not pretend a surprisal,
nor have any just plea for starting back again.
So our Savior tells his disciples, why he was
SO express and plain with them in this, These
things have I told you that ye be not offended,
John xvi. 1; as if he had said, I have showed
you the ruggedness of your way, that you
may not stumble at it, taking it to be a smooth
plain one. But then, where this is spoken of,
it is usually allayed with the mention of
those comforts that accompany these suffer-
ings, or that glory which follows them. The
doctrine of the apostles, which was so verifi-
‘ed in their own persons, was this, That we
must, through much tribulation, enter into the
kingdom of God, Acts xiv. 22. An unpleasant
way indeed, if you look no farther; but a
kingdom at the end of it, and that the king-
'dom of God, will transfuse pleasure into the
most painful step in it all. It seems a sad
condition that falls to the share of godly men
in this world, to be eminent in sorrows and
troubles. Many are the afflictions of the
righteous, Psalm xxxiv. 19: but that which
follows, weighs them abundantly down in
consolation, that the Lord himself is engaged
in their afflictions, both for their deliverance
out of them in due time, and, in the mean
time, for their support and preservation under
them : The Lord delivers them out of them
all, and till he does that, he keepeth all their
bones. This was literally verified in the
natural body of Christ, as St. John observes,
John xix. 36, and it holds spiritually true in
his mystical body. The Lord supports the
spirits of believers in their troubles, with such
solid consolations as are the pillars and
strength of their souls, as the bones are of the
body, which the Hebrew word for them im-
ports. So, he keepeth all his bones; and the
desperate condition of wicked men is opposed
to this, verse 21, to illustrate it, evil shall slay
the wicked. *
Thus, John xvi. 33, they are forewarned in
the close, what to expect at the world's hands,
as they were divers times before in that same
sermon; but it is a sweet testament, take it
altogether; Ye shall have tribulation in the
world, but peace in me. And seeing he hath
jointly bequeathed these two to his followers,
were it not great folly to renounce such a
bargain, and to let go that peace for fear of
this trouble 2 The trouble is but in the world,
but the peace is in him, who weighs down
thousands of worlds. *
So then, they do exceedingly mistake and
misreckon, who would reconcile Christ and
the world, who would have the church of
Christ, or, at least, themselves for their own
shares, enjoy both kinds of peace together;
would willingly have peace in Christ, but are
very loath to part with the world’s peace.
They would be Christians, but they are very
ill satisfied when they hear of anything but
ease and prosperity in that estate, and wil-
lingly forget the tenor of the gospel in this;
and so, when times of trouble and sufferings
come, their minds are as new and uncouth to
it, as if they had not been told of it before-
hand. They like better St. Peter's carnal
advice to Christ, to avoid suffering, Matt.
xvi. 22, than his apostolic doctrine to Chris-
tians, teaching them, that as Christ suffered,
so they likewise are called to suffering. Men
are ready to think as Peter did, that Christ
should favor himself more in his own body,
his church, than to expose it to so much suf-
fering; and most would be of Rome's mind
in this, at least in affection, that the badge
of the church should be pomp and prosperity,
and not the cross: the true cross and afflic-
tions are too heavy and painful.
But God's thoughts are not as ours : those
whom he calls to a kingdom, he calls to suf-
ferings as the way to it. He will have the
heirs of heaven know, that they are not at
home on earth, and that this is not their rest.
WER. 21—23.]
185
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
He will not have them, with the abused
world, fancy a happiness here, and, as St.
Augustine says, Beatam vitam quaerere in re-
gione mortis—seek a happy life in the re-
gion of death. The reproaches and wrongs
that encounter them shall elevate their minds
often to that land of peace and rest, where
righteousness dwells. 2 Peter iii. 13. The
hard taskmaster shall make them weary of
Egypt, which otherwise, possibly, they would
comply too well with ; shall dispose them
for deliverance, and make it welcome, which,
it may be, they might but coldly desire, if
they were better used.
He knows what he does, who secretly
serves his own good purposes by men's evil
ones, and, by the ploughers that make long
furrows on the back of his church (Psalm
cxxix. 3), makes it a fruitful field to himself.
Therefore, it is great folly and unadvised-
ness, to take up a prejudice against his way,
to think it might be better as we would model
it, and to complain of the order of things,
whereas we should complain of disordered
minds: but we had rather have all altered
and changed for us, the very course of Prov-
idence, than seek the change of our own per-
verse hearts. But the right temper of a
Christian is, to run always across to the cor-
rupt stream of the world and human iniquity,
and to be willingly carried along with the
stream of divine Providence, and not at all
to stir a hand, no, nor a thought, to row
against that mighty current; and not only is
he carried with it upon necessity, because
there is no steering against it, but cheerfully
and voluntarily ; not because he must, but
because he would.
And this is the other thing to which Chris-
tians are jointly called ; as to suffering, so to
calmness of mind and patience in suffering,
although their suffering be most unjust : yea,
this is truly a part of that duty they are
called to, to maintain that integrity and inof-
fensiveness of life that may make their suf-
ferings at men's hands always unjust. The
entire duty here, is innocence and patience;
doing willingly no wrong to others, and yet
cheerfully suffering wrong when done to
themselves. If either of the two be want-
ing, their suffering does not credit their pro-
fession, but dishonors it. If they be patient
under deserved suffering, their guiltiness
darkens their patience: and if their suffer-
ings be undeserved, yea, and the cause of
them honorable, yet impatience under them
stains both their sufferings and their cause,
and seems in part to justify the very injus-
tice that is used against them ; but when in-
nocence and patience meet together in suffer-
ing, their sufferings are in their perfect lus-
tre. These are they who honor religion, and
shame the enemies of it. It was the concur-
rence of these two that was the very triumph
of the martyrs in times of persecution, that
tormented their tormentors, and made them
more than conquerors, even in sufferings.
Now that we are called both to suffering
and to this manner of suffering, the apostle
puts out of question, by the Supreme exam-
ple of our Lord Jesus Christ; for the sum of
our calling is, to follow him. . Now in both
these, in suffering, and in suffering innocently
and patiently, the whole history of the gos-
pel testifies how complete a pattern he is.
And the apostle gives us here a summary,
yet a very clear account of it.
The words have in them these two things,
I. The perfection of this example. II. Our
obligation to follow it.
I. The example he sets off to the full, 1. In
regard of the greatness of our Savior's suf-
ferings. 2. In regard of his spotlessness and
patience in suffering.
The first, we have in that word, he suf-
fered ; and afterward, at ver. 24, we have
his crucifixion and his stripes expressly spe-
cified.
Now this is reason enough, and carries it
it beyond all other reason, why Christians
are called to a suffering life, seeing the Lord
and Author of that calling suffered himself
So much. The captain, or leader, of our sal-
vation, as the apostle speaks, was consecra-
ted by suffering, Heb. ii. 10: that was the
way by which he entered into the holy place,
where he is now our everlasting High Priest,
making intercession for us. If he be our
leader to salvation, must not we follow him
in the way he leads, whatsoever it is ? If it
be (as we see it is) by the way of sufferings,
we must either follow on in that way, or fall
short of salvation; for there is no other lead-
er, nor any other way than that which he
opened ; so that there is not only a congruity
in it, that his followers be conformed to him
in suffering, but a necessity, if they will fol-
low him on, till they attain to glory. And
the consideration of both these, can not but
argue a Christian into a resolution for this
via regia, this royal way of suffering that
leads to glory, through which their King and
Lord himself went to his glory. It could
hardly be believed at first, that this was his
way, and we can as hardly yet believe that
it must be ours. O fools, and slow of heart
to believe I Ought not Christ to have suf-
fered these things, and so to enter into his
glory?, Luke xxiv. 25, 26.
Would you be at glory, and will you not
follow your leader in the only way to it?
Must there be another way cut out for you
by yourself? O absurd | Shall the servant
be greater than his master 2 John xiii. 6.
Are you not fairly dealt with ? If you have
a mind to Christ, you shall have full as much
of the world's good-will as he had : if it hate
syou, he bids you remember, how it hated
him. John xv. 18.
But though there were a way to do other-
wise, would you not, if the love of Christ
possessed your hearts, rather choose to share
with him in his lot, and would you not find
delight in the very trouble of it 2 Is not this
24
186
[Ch.A.P. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
conformity to Jesus, the great ambition of all
his true-hearted followers ? We carry about
in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, says
the great apostle, 2 Cor. iv. 10. Besides the
unspeakable advantage to come, which goes
linked with this, that if we suffer with him,
we shall reign with him (2 Tim. ii. 12), there
is a glory, even in this present resemblance,
that we are conformed to the image of the
Son of God in sufferings. Why should we
desire to leave him 2 Are you not one with
him 2 Can you choose but have the same
common friends and enemies 3 Would you
willingly, if it might be, could you find in
your heart to be friends with that world
which hated your Lord and Master ? Would
you have nothing but kindness and ease,
where he had nothing but enmity and trou-
ble 2 Or would you not rather, when you
think aright of it, refuse and disdain to be so
unlike him 2 As that good duke said, when
they would have crowned him king of Jeru-
salem, No, said he, by no means, I will not
wear a crown of gold where Jesus was crown-
ed with thorns.
2. His spotlessness and patience in suffer-
ing, are both of them set here before us; the
one ver. 22, the other ver. 23.
Whosoever thou art who makest such a
noise about the injustice of what thou suffer-
est, and thinkest to justify thy impatience by
thine innocence, let me ask thee, Art thou
more just and innocent than he who is here
set before thee ? Or, art thou able to come
near him in this point 2 Who did no sin,
neither was guile found in his mouth. This
is to signify perfect holiness, according to
that declaration, James iii. 2, If any man of-
#: not in word, the same is a perfect man.
an is a little world, a world of wickedness;
and that little part of him, the tongue, is
termed by St. James a world of iniquity.
But all Christ's words, as well as his actions,
and all his thoughts, flowed from a pure
spring that had not anything defiled in it;
and therefore no temptation, either from men
or Satan, could seize on him. Other men
may seem clear as long as they are unstirred,
, but move and trouble them, and the mud
arises; but he was nothing but holiness, a
pure fountain, all purity to the bottom; and
therefore stir and trouble him as they would,
he was still alike clear. The prince of this
world cometh, and hath nothing in me. John
xiv. 39.
This is the main ground of our confidence
in him, that he is a holy, harmless, undefiled
High Priest : and such a one became us, says
the apostle, who are so sinful. Heb. vii. 26.
The more sinful we are, the more need that
our High Priest should be sinless; and being
so, we may build upon his perfection, as
standing in our stead, yea, we are invested
with him and his righteousness.
Again, there was no guile found in his
mouth. This serves to convince us concern-
ing all the promises that he hath made, that
they are nothing but truth. Hath he said,
Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast
out 3 John vi. 37. Then you need not fear,
how unworthy and vile soever you may be ;
do but come to him, and you have his word
that he will not shut the door against you.
And as he hath promised access, so he hath
further promised ease and soul's rest to those
that come, Matt. xi. 30. Then be confident
to find that in him too, for there never was a
false or guileful word found in his mouth.
But to consider it only in the present ac-
tion, this speaks him the most innocent suf-
ferer that ever was, not only judicially just
in his cause, but entirely just in his person,
altogether righteous; and yet, condemned to
death, and an opprobrious death of malefac-
tors, and set between two, as chief of the
three I am, says he, the rose of Sharon,
and the lily of the valley ; and the Spouse
saith of him, My well-beloved is white and
ruddy, Cant. ii. 1, 10: thus indeed, he was in
his death, ruddy in his bloodshed, and white
in his innocence, and withal in his meekness
and patience; the other thing wherein he is
here so exemplary.
Who, when he was reviled, reviled not
again.] This spotless Lamb of God, was a
Lamb both in guiltlessness and silence; and
the prophet Isaiah expresses the resemblance,
in that he was brought as a lamb to the
slaughter, Isa. liii. 7. He suffered not only
an unjust sentence of death, but withal unjust
revilings, the contradictions of sinners. No
One ever did so little deserve revilings; no
one ever could have said so much in his own
just defence, and to the just reproach of his
enemies; and yet, in both, he preferred si-
lence. No one could ever threaten so heavy
things as he could against his enemies, and
have made good all he threatened, and yet
no such thing was heard from him. The
heavens and the earth, as it were, spoke their
resentment of his dcath who made them ; but
he was silent ; or what he spoke makes this
still good, how far he was from revilings and
threatenings. As spices pounded, or precious
ointment poured out, give their smell most,
thus, His name was an ointment then poured
forth, together with his blood (Cant. i. 3),
and filling heaven and earth with its sweet
perfume, was a savor of rest arid and peace
in both, appeasing the wrath of God, and so
quieting the consciences of men. And even
in this particular was it then most fragrant,
in that all the torments of the cross, and all
the revilings of the multitude, racked him as
it were for some answer, yet could draw no
other from him than this, Father, forgive
them, for they know not what they do.
But for those to whom this mercy belonged
not, the apostle tells us what he did ; instead
of revilings and threatenings, He committed
all to him who judgeth righteously. And
this is the true method of Christian patience,
that which quiets the mind, and keeps it from
the boiling, tumultuous thoughts of revenge,
WER. 21–23.]
187
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
to turn the whole matter into God's hand, to
resign it over to him, to prosecute when and
as he thinks good. Not as the most, who
had rather, if they had power, do for them-
selves, and be their own avengers; and be-
cause they have not the power, do offer up
such bitter curses and prayers for revenge
unto God, as are most hateful to him, and are
far from this calm and holy way of commit-
ting matters to his judgment. The common
way of referring things to God, is indeed im-
pious and dishonorable to him, being really
no other than calling him to be a servant and
executioner to our passion. We ordinarily
mistake his justice, and judge of it according
to our own precipitant and distempered minds.
If wicked men be not crossed in their designs,
and their wickedness evidently crushed, just
when we should have it, we are ready to
give up the matter as desperate, or at least
to abate of those confident and reverential
thoughts of Divine justice which we owe
him. Howsoever things go, this ought to be
fixed in our hearts, that He who sitteth in
heaven judgeth righteously, and executes that
his righteous judgment in the fittest season.
We poor worms, whose whole life is but a
hand-breadth in itself, and is as nothing unto
God, think a few months or years a great
matter; but to him who inhabiteth eternity, a
thousand years are but as one day, as our
apostle teaches us, in his second epistle,
chap. iii. 8.
Our Savior in that time of his humiliation
and suffering, committed himself and his
cause (for that is best expressed, in that noth-
ing is expressed but He committed) to him
who judgeth righteously, and the issue shall
be, º all his enemies shall become his foot-
stool, and he himself shall judge them. But
that which is given us here to learn from his
carriage toward them in his suffering, is, that
quietness and moderation of mind, even un-
der unjust sufferings, make us like him : not
to reply to reproach with reproach, as our
custom is, to give one ill word for another, or
two for one, to be sure not to be behind.
Men take a pride in this, and think it ridicu-
lous simplicity so to suffer, and this makes
strifes and contention so much abound ; but
it is a great mistake. You think it greatness
of spirit to bear nothing, to put up with no
wrong, whereas indeed it is great weakness,
and baseness. It is true greatness of spirit
to despise the most of those things which set
you usually on fire one against another; es-
pecially, being done after a Christian manner,
it were a part of the spirit of Christ in you:
and is there any spirit greater than that,
think you? Oh! that there were less of the
spirit of the dragon, and more of the spirit of
the dove among them.
II. Our obligation to follow the example
of Christ, besides being enforced by its own
excellency, is intimated in these two things
contained in the words: 1. The design of
his behavior for this use, to be as an exam-
ple to us. 2. Our Interest in him, and
those his sufferings, wherein he so carried
himself.
1. That his behavior was intended as an
example, Leaving us an ea ample, &c. He
left his footsteps as a copy (as the word in
the original roypaupov imports), to be followed
by us; every step of his is a letter of this
copy ; and particularly in this point of suffer-
ing, he wrote us a pure and perfect copy of
obedience, in clear and great letters, in his
own blood.
His whole life is our rule: not, indeed, his
miraculous works, his footsteps walking on
the sea, and such like, they are not for our
following: but his obedience, holiness, meek-
ness, and humility, are our copy, which we
should continually study. The shorter and
more effectual way, they say, of teaching, is
by example; but above all, this matchless
example is the happiest way of teaching.
He that follows me, says our Lord, shall not
walk in darkness. John viii. 12.
He that aims high, shoots the higher for it,
though he shoot not so high as he aims.
This is what ennobles the spirit of a Chris-
tian, the propounding of this our high pat-
tern, the example of Jesus Christ.
The imitation of men in worthless things,
is low and servile ; the imitation of their vir-
tues is commendable, but if we aim no higher,
it is both imperfect and unsafe. The Apostle
St. Paul will have no imitation, but with re-
gard to this supreme pattern : Be ye follow-
ers of me, as I am of Christ. 1 Cor. xi. 1.
One Christian may take the example of
Christ as exhibited in many things, in an-
other, but still he must examine all by the
original primitive copy, the footsteps of
Christ himself, following nothing, but as it is
conformable to that, and looking chiefly on
him, both as the most perfect and most effec-
tual example. See Heb. xii. 2. There is a
cloud of witnesses and examples, but look
above them all, to him, who is as high above
them as the sun is above the clouds. As in
the covenant of grace the . is better, a
living way indeed, so, there is this advantage
also, that we are not left to our own skill for
following it, but taught by the Spirit. In
the delivery of the law, God showed his glory
and greatness by the manner of giving it, but
the law was written only in dead tables.
But Christ, the living law, teaches by obey-
ing it, how to obey it; and this, too, is the
advantage of the gospel, that the law is twice
written over unto believers, first, in the ex-
ample of Christ, and then inwardly in their
hearts by his Spirit. There is, together,
with that copy of all grace in him, a spirit
derived from him, enabling believers to fol-
low him in their measure. They may not
only see him as the only begotten Son of God,
ſº of grace and truth, as it is, John i. 14,
ut, as there it follows, they receive of his
fulness grace for grace. The love of Christ
makes the soul delight to converse with him;
188
[CHAP. ll
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
and converse and love together, make it
learn his behavior; as men that live much
together, especially if they do much affect
one another, will insensibly contract one an-
other's habits and customs.
The other thing obliging us is, 2dly. Our
interest in him and his sufferings: He suffered
for us. And to this the apostle returns, ver.
24. Observe only from the tie of these two,
that if we neglect his example set before us,
we can not enjoy any right assurance of his
suffering for us; but if we do seriously en-
deavor to follow him, then we may expect to
obtain life through his death, and those steps
of his wherein we walk, will bring us ere
long to be where he is.
VER. 24. Who his own self bare our sins in his own
body on the tree, that we being dead to sin, should
live unto righteousness; by whose stripes we are
healed.
THAT which is deepest in the heart, is gen-
erally most in the mouth ; that which abounds
within, runs over most by the tongue or pen.
When men light upon the speaking of that
subject which possesses their affection, they
can hardly be taken off, or drawn from it
again. , Thus the apostles, in their writings,
when they make mention any way of Christ
suffering for us, love to dwell on it, as that
which they take most delight to speak of;
such delicacy, such sweetness is in it to a
spiritual taste, that they like to keep it in
their mouth, and are never out of their theme
when they insist on Jesus Christ, though they
have but named him by occasion of some
other doctrine: for he is the great subject of
all they have to say.
Thus here, the apostle had spoken of Christ
in the foregoing words very fitly to his pres-
ent subject, setting him before Christian ser-
Vants, and all suffering Christians, as their
complete example, both in point of much suf-
fering, and of perfect innocence and patience
in suffering ; and he had expressed their ob-
ligation to study and follow that example;
yet, he can not leave it so, but having said
that all those his sufferings wherein he was
so exemplary, were for us, as a chief consid-
eration for which we should study to be like
him, he returns to that again, and enlarges
upon it in words partly the same, partly very
near those of that evangelist among the
prophets, Isaiah liii. 4.
And it suits very well with his main scope
to press this point, as giving both very much
strength and sweetness to the exhortation;
for surely it is most reasonable that we wil-
lingly conform to him in suffering, who had
never been an example of suffering, nor sub-
ject at all to sufferings, nor in any degree
capable of them, but for us; and it is most
comfortable in these light, sufferings of this
present moment, to consider that he hath
freed us from the sufferings of eternity, by
suffering himself in our stead in the fulness
of time.
That Jesus Christ is, in doing and in suf-
fering, our supreme and matchless example,
and that he came to be so, is a truth ; but
that he is nothing further, and came for nc
other end, is you see a high point of false-
hood. For how should man be enabled to
learn and follow that example of obedience,
unless there were more than an example in
Christ 2 and what would become of that
great reckoning of disobedience that man
stands guilty of ? No, these are notions far
too narrow. He came to bear our sins in his
own body on the tree, and for this purpose,
had a body fitted for him and given him to
bear this burden, to do this as the will of his
Father, to stand for us instead of all offerings
and sacrifices: and by that will, says the
apostle, we are sanctified, through the offer-
ing of the body of Jesus Christ, once for all.
Heb. x.9.
This was his business not only to rectify
sinful man by his example, but to redeem
him by his blood. He was a teacher come
from God: as a prophet, he teaches us the
way of life, and as the best and greatest of
prophets, is perfectly like his doctrine; and
his actions (which in all teachers is the live-
liest part of doctrine), his carriage in life and
death, is our great pattern and instruction.
But what is said of his forerunner, is more
eminently true of Christ: he is a prophet,
and more than a prophet—a priest satisfying
justice for us, and a ſ: conquering sin and
death for us; an example, indeed, but more
than an example—our sacrifice, and our life,
our all in all. It is our duty to walk as he
walked, to make him the pattern of our steps,
1 John ii. 6; but our comfort and salvation
lie in this, that he is the propitiation for our
sins, ver. 2. So, in the first chapter of that
epistle, ver. 7, We are to walk in the light, as
he is in the light , but for all our walking,
we have need of that which follows, that
bears the great weight—The blood of Jesus
Christ cleanseth us from all sin. And so
still, that glory which he possesseth in his
own person, is the pledge of ours: he is there
for us, He lives to make intercession for us,
says the apostle, Heb. vii. 25; and I go to
prepare a place for you, says our Lord him-
self. John xiv. 2.
We have in the words these two great
points, and in the same order as the words
lie: 1. The nature and quality of the suffer-
ings of Jesus Christ; and II. The end of
them.
I. In this expression of the mature and
quality of the sufferings of Christ, we are to
consider, 1. The commutation of the persons,
he himself—for us. 2. The work undertaken
and performed, he bare our sins in his own
body on the tree.
1. The act or sentence of the law against
the breach of it standing in force, and divine
justice expecting satisfaction, death was the
necessary and inseparable consequence of
sin. If you say, the Supreme majesty of God,
WER. 24.]
189
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
being accountable to none, might have for-
given all without satisfaction, we are not to
contest that, nor foolishly to offer to sound
the bottomless depth of his absolute preroga-
tive. Christ implies in his prayer, Matt,
xxvi. 39, that it was impossible that he could
escape that cup 5 but the impossibility is re-
solved into his Father's will, as the cause of
it. But this we may clearly see, following
the track of the j, Scriptures (our only
safe way), that this way wherein our salva-
tion is contrived, is most excellent, and suita-
ble to the greatness and goodness of God; so
full of wonders of wisdom and love, that the
angels, as our apostle tells us before, can not
forbear looking on it, and admiring it; for all
their exact knowledge, yet they still find it
infinitely beyond their knowledge, still in as-
tonishment and admiration of what they see,
and still in search, looking in to see more ;
those cherubim still having their eyes fixed
on this mercy-seat.
Justice might indeed have seized on rebel-
lious man, and laid the pronounced punish-
ment on him. Mercy might have freely ac-
quitted him, and pardoned all. But can we
name any place where mercy and justice, as
relating to condemned man, could have met
and shined jointly in full aspect, save only in
Jesus Christ?—in whom, indeed, mercy and
truth met, and righteousness and peace kissed
each other, Psal. lxxxv. 10; yea, in whose
person the parties concerned, that were at so
great a distance, met so near, as nearer can
not be imagined.
And not only was this the sole way for the
consistency of these two, justice and mercy,
but take each of them severally, and they
could not have been manifested in so full
lustre in any other way. God's just hatred
of sin did, out of doubt, appear more in pun-
ishing his own only begotten Son for it, than
if the whole race of mankind had suffered for
it eternally. Again, it raises the notion of
mercy to the highest, that sin is not only for-
given us, but for this end God's own co-eter-
nal Son is given to us, and for us. Consider
what he is, and what we are ; He the Son of
his love, and we, enemies. Therefore, it is
emphatically expressed in the words, God so
loved the world, John iii. 16: that love
amounts to this much, that is, was so great,
as to give his Son ; but how great that love
is, can not be uttered. In this, says the apos-
tle, Rom. v. 8, God commendeth his love to
us, sets it off to the highest, gives us the
richest and strongest evidence of it.
The foundation of this plan, this appearing
of Christ for us, and undergoing and answer-
ing all in our stead, lies in the decree of God,
where it was plotted and contrived, in the
whole way of it, from eternity; and the
Father and the Son being one, and their
thoughts and will one, they were perfectly
agreed on it; and those likewise for whom it
should hold, were agreed upon, and their
names written down, according to which
they are said to be given unto Christ to re-
deem. And just according to that model did
all the work proceed, and was accomplished
in all points, perfectly answering to the pat-
tern of it in the mind of God. As it was pre-
concluded there, that the Son should under-
take the business, this matchless piece of
service for his Father, and that by his inter-
posing, men should be reconciled and saved;
so that he might be altogether a fit person for
the work, it was resolved, that as he was al-
ready fit for it by the almightiness of his
Deity and Godhead, and the acceptableness
of his person to the Father, as the Son of
God, so he should be further fitted by won-
derfully uniting weakness to almightiness,
the frailty of man to the power of God. Be-
cause suffering for man was a main point of
the work, therefore, as his being the Son of
God made him acceptable to God, so his be-
ing the Son of Man made him suitable to
man, in whose business he had engaged him-
self, and suitable to the business itself to be
performed. And not only was there in him,
by his human nature, a conformity to man
(for that might have been accomplished by a
new created body), but a consanguinity with
man, by a body framed of the same piece—
this Redeemer, a kinsman (as the Hebrew
word goel is), only purified for his use, as
was needful, and framed after a peculiar man-
ner, in the womb of a virgin, as it is express-
ed, Heb. x. 5, Thou hast fitted a body for
me—having no sin itself, because ordained to
have so much of our sins: as it is here, he
bare our sins in his own body.
And this looks back to the primitive trans-
action and purpose. Lo / I come to do thy
will, says the Son. Psalm xl. 7. Behold my
servant whom I have chosen, says the Father
(Isa. xliii. 10), this masterpiece of my works;
no one in heaven or earth is fit to serve me,
but my own Son. And as he came into the
world according to that decree and will, so
he goes out of it again in that way. The
Son of Man goeth as is determined, Luke
xxii. 22: it was wickedly and maliciously
done by men against him, but it was deter-
mined (which is what he there speaks of)
wisely and graciously by his Father, with his
own consent. As in those two-faced pictures,
look upon the crucifying of Christ one way,
as complotted by a treacherous disciple and
malicious priests and rulers, and nothing
more deformed and hateful than the authors
of it; but view it again, as determined in
God’s counsel, for the restoring of lost man-
kind, and it is full of unspeakable beauty and
sweetness—infinite wisdom and love in every
trait of it.
Thus, also, as to the persons for whom
Christ engaged to suffer, their coming unto
him looks back to that first donation of the
Father, as flowing from that: All that the
Father giveth me shall come unto me. John
vi. 37.
Now this being God’s great design, it is
190
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
that which he would have men eye and con-
sider more than all the rest of his works; and
yet it is least of all considered by the most
The other covenant, made with the first Adam,
was but to make way, and, if we may so
speak, to make work for this. For he knew
that it would not hold ; therefore, as this new
covenant became needful by the breach of
the other, so the failing of that other sets off
and commends the firmness of this. The for-
mer was made with a man in his best condi-
tion, and yet he kept it not : even then, he
proved vanity, as it is, Psalm xxxix. 5, Verily,
every man, in his best estate, is altogether
vanity. So that the second, that it might be
stronger, is made with a man indeed, to sup-
ply the place of the former, but he is God-
Man, to be surer than the former, and there-
fore it holds. And this is the difference, as
the apostle expresses it, that the first Adam,
in that covenant, was laid as a foundation,
and, though we say not that the church, in
its true notion, was built on him, yet, the es-
tate of the whole race of mankind, the mate-
rials which the church is built of, lay on him
for that time; and it failed. But upon this
rock, the second Adam, is the church so firm-
ly built, that the gates of hell can not prevail
against her. The first man, Adam, was made
a living soul , the last Adam was made a
quickening (or life-giving) spirit. 1 Cor. xv.
45. The first had life, but he transferred it
not, yea, he kept it not for himself, but drew
in and transferred death ; but the second, by
death, conveys life to all that are reckoned
his seed : He bare their sins.
2. As to the work itself. He bare them on
the tree. In that outside of his suffering, the
visible kind of death inflicted on him, in that
it was hanging on the tree of the cross, there
was an analogy with the end and main work;
and it was ordered by the Lord with regard
unto that end, being a death declared accursed
by the law, as the Apostle St. Paul observes,
Gal. iii. 13, and so declaring him, who was
God blessed for ever, to have been made a
curse (that is, accounted as accursed) for us,
that we might be blessed in him, in whom,
according to the promise, all the nations of
the earth are blessed.
But that wherein lay the strength and main
stress of his sufferings, was this invisible
Weight which none could see who gazed on
him, but which he felt more than all the rest:
He bare our sins. In this there are three
things. 1. The weight of sin. 2. The trans-
ferring of it upon Christ. 3. His bearing of it.
[1]. He bare sin as a heavy burden; so the
word bearing imports in general (dvāpsykey),
and those two words particularly used by the
prophet, Isaiah liii. 4, to which these allude
(Nr. 52p), imply, the bearing of some great
mass or load. And such sin is: for it hath
the wrath of an offended God hanging at it,
Indissolubly tied to it, of which who can bear
the least ! And therefore the least sin, being
the procuring cause of it, will press a man
down for ever, that he shall not be able to
rise. Who can stand before thee when once
thou art angry 3 says the psalmist, Psalm
lxxvi. 7. And the prophet, Jer. iii. 12, Re-
turn, backsliding Israel, and I will not cause
my wrath to fall upon thee—to fall as a great
wish ; or as a millstone, and crush the
SOUll.
But senseless we go light under the burden
of sin, and feel it not, we complain not of it,
and are therefore truly said to be dead in it ;
otherwise it could not but press us, and press
out complaints. O ! wretched man that I am 1
who shall deliver me 2 A profane, secure sin-
ner thinks it nothing to break the holy law
of God, to please his flesh, or the world; he
counts sin a light matter, makes a mock of it,
as Solomon says, Prov. xiv. 9. But a stirring
conscience is of another mind: Mine iniqui-
ties are gone over my head : as a heavy
burden, they are too heavy for me. Psalm
xxxviii. 4.
Sin is such a burden as makes the very
frame of heaven and earth, which is not guil-
ty of it, yea, the whole creation, to crack and
groan (it is the apostle's doctrine, Rom. viii.
22), and yet, the impenitent heart, whose
guiltiness it is, continues unmoved, groaneth
not; for your accustomed groaning is no such
Imatter.
Yea, to consider it in connexion with the
present subject, where we may best read
what it is, sin was a heavy load to Jesus
Christ. In Psalm xl. 12, the psalmist, speak-
ing in the person of Christ, complains heavily,
Innumerable evils have compassed me about ;
mine iniquities (not his, as done by him, but
yet his, by his undertaking to pay for them)
have taken hold of me, so that I am not able
to look up ; they are more than the hairs of
my head, therefore my heart faileth me. And
surely that which pressed him, so sore who
upholds heaven and earth, no other in heaven
or on earth could have sustained and sur-
mounted, but would have sunk and perished
under it. Was it, think you, the pain of that
common outside of his death, though very
painful, that drew such a word from him,
My God, my God, why hast :*::::::::::
me 2 Or was it the fear of that beforehand,
that pressed a sweat of blood from him 3 No,
it was this burden of sin, the first of which
was committed in the garden of Eden, that
then began to be laid upon him and fastened
upon his shoulders in the garden of Geth-
semane, ten thousand times heavier than the
cross which he was caused to bear. That
might be for a while turned over to another,
but this could not. This was the cup he
trembled at more than at that gall and vine-
gar to be afterward offered to him by his cru-
cifiers, or any part of his external sufferings:
it was the bitter cup of wrath due to sin,
which his Father put into his hand, and
caused him to drink, the very same thing
that is here called the bearing our sins in his
body.
WER. 24.]
191
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER,
And consider, that the very smallest sins
contributed to make up this load, and made
it so much the heavier: and therefore, though
sins be comparatively smaller and greater,
yet learn thence to account no sin in itself
small which offends the great God, and which
lay heavy upon your great Redeemer in the
day of his sufferings.
At his apprehension, besides the soldiers,
that invisible crowd of the sins he was to suf-
fer for, came about him, for it was these that
laid strongest hold on him : he could easily
have shaken off all the rest, as appears, Matt.
xxvi. 33, but our sins laid the arrest on him,
being accounted his, as it is in that forecited
place, Psalm xl. 12, Mine iniquities. Now
among these were even those sins we call
small ; they were of the number that took
him, and they were among those instruments
of his bloodshed. If the greater part were
as the spear that pierced his side, the less
were as the nails that pierced his hands and
his feet, and the very least as the thorns that
were set on his precious head. And the mul-
titude of them made up what was wanting in
their magnitude; though they were small,
they were many.
[2.] They were transferred upon him by
virtue of that covenant we spoke of. They
became his debt, and he responsible for all
they came to. Seeing you have accepted
of this business according to my will (may
we conceive the Father saying to his Son),
you must go through with it; you are en-
gaged in it, but it is no other than what you
understood perfectly before; you knew what
it would cost you, and yet, out of joint love
with me to those I named to be saved by you,
you were as willing as I to the whole under-
taking. Now therefore the time is come that
I must lay upon you the sins of all those per-
Sons, and you must bear them ; the sins of all
those believers who lived before, and all who
are to come after, to the end of the world.
The Lord laid on him the iniquity of us all,
says the prophet (Isa, liii. 6), took it off from
us and charged it on him, made it to meet on
him, or to fall in together, as the word in the
original imports. The sins of all, in all ages
before and after, who were to be saved, all
their guiltiness met together on his back upon
the cross. Whosoever of all that number had
least sin, yet had no small burden to cast on
him : and to give accession to the whole
weight, every man hath had his own way of
wandering, as the prophet there expresseth
it, and he paid for all; all fell on him. And
as in testimony of his meekness and patience,
so, in this respect likewise, was he so silent
in his sufferings, that though his enemies
dealt most unjustly with him, yet he stood
as convicted before the justice-seat of his
Father, under the imputed guilt of all our
Sins, and so eying him, and accounting his
business to be chiefly with him, he did pa-
tiently bear the due punishment of all our
sins at his Father's hand, according to that
of the psalmist, I was dumb, I opened not my
mouth because thou didst it. Psalm xxxix. 9.
Therefore the prophet immediately subjoins
the description of his silent carriage, to that
which he had spoken of, the confluence of
our iniquities upon him: As a sheep before
her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his
mouth. Isa. liii. 7.
And if our sins were thus accounted his,
then, in the same way, and for that very rea-
son, his sufferings and satisfaction must of
necessity be accounted ours. As he said for
his disciples, to the men who came to take
him, If it be me ye seek, then let these go free;
so he said for all believers, to his Father, his
wrath then seizing on him, If on me thou wilt
lay hold, then let these go free. And thus
the agreement was: He was made sin for us
who knew no sin, that we might be made the
righteousness of God in him. , 2 Cor. V. ult.
So, then, there is a union between believ-
ers and Jesus Christ, by which this inter-
change was made ; he being charged with
their sins, and they clothed with his satisfac-
tion and righteousness. This union is found-
ed, 1st, in God's decree of election, running
to this effect, that they should live in Christ,
and so, choosing the head and the whole
mystical body as one, and reckoning their
debt as his, in his own purpose, that he might
receive satisfaction, and they salvation, in
their head, Christ. The execution of that
purpose and union began in Christ's incarna-
tion, it being for them, though the mature he
assumed is theirs in common with other men.
It is said, Heb. ii. 16, He took not on him the
nature of angels, but the seed of Abraham,
the company of believers: he became man
for their sakes, because they are men. That
he is of the same nature with unbelieving
men who perish, is but by accident, as it
were ; there is no good to them in that, but
the great evil of deeper condemnation, if they
hear of him, and believe not ; but he was
made man to be like, yea, to be one with the
elect, and he is not ashamed to call them breth-
ren, as the apostle there says, Hebrews ii. 11;
2dly, This union is also founded in the actual
intention of the Son so made man ; he presen:
ting himself to the Father in all he did and
suffered, as for them, having them, and them
only, in his eye and thoughts, in all. For
their sakes do I sanctify myself, John Xyii. 1;
9. Again, 3dly, This union is applied and
performed in them, when they are converted
and ingrafted into Jesus Christ by faith ; and
this doth actually discharge them of their
own sins, and entitle them to his righteous-
ness, and so justify them in the sight of God.
4thly, The consummation of this union, is in
glory, which is the result and fruit of all the
former. As it began in heaven, it is com-
pleted there; but between these two in heav-
en, the intervention of those other two de-
grees of it on earth was necessary, being in-
tended in the first, as tending to the attain-
ment of the last. These four steps of it are
192
[CHAP II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
all distinctly expressed in our Lord's own
prayer, John xvii. 1st, God's purpose that
the Son should give eternal life to those
whom he hath given him, ver. 2. 2dly, The
Son's undertaking and accomplishing their
redemption, in verse 4: I have finished the
work which thou gavest me to do. 3dly, The
application of this union, and its performance
in them, by their faith, their believing, and
keeping his word, wer. 6, 8, and in several of
the subsequent verses. And then, lastly, the
consummation of this union, ver. 24: I will
that they whom thou hast given me, be with me
where I am. There meet the first donation,
and the last.
Now to obtain this life for them, Christ
died in their stead. He appeared as the High-
Priest, being perfectly and truly what the
name was on their plate of gold, holiness to
the Lord, Exod. xxviii. 36, and so bearing
their iniquity, as it is there added of Aaron,
ver, 38. But because the High-Priest was
not the Redeemer, but only prefigured him,
he did not himself suffer for the people's sin,
but turned it over upon the beasts which he
sacrificed, signifying that translation of sin,
by laying his hand upon the head of the beast.
But Jesus Christ is both the great high-priest
and the great sacrifice in one ; and this seems
to be here implied in these words, himself
bare our sins in his own body, which the
Priest under the law did not. So, Isa. liii. 10,
and Heb. ix. 12, He made his soul an offering
jor sin. He offered up himself, his whole
self. In the history of the gospel, it is said,
that his soul was heavy, and chiefly suffered;
but it is the bearing sin in his body, and offer-
ing it, that is oftenest mentioned as the visi-
ble part of the sacrifice, and as his way of
offering it, not excluding the other. Thus
(Rom. xii. 1) we are exhorted to give our
bodies, in opposition to the bodies of beasts,
and they are therefore called a living sacrifice,
which they are ‘not without the soul. So,
Christ's bearing it wri has body, imports the
bearing of it in his soul too.
[3.] His bearing of our sins, hints that he
was active and Wii. in his suffering for us;
it was not a constrained offering. He laid
down his life, as he himself tells us, John x.
18; and this expression here, He bare, im-
plies, He took willingly off, lifted from us
that burden, to bear it himself. It was count-
ed an ill sign among the heathens, when
the beasts went unwillingly to be sacrificed,
and drew back, and a good omen when they
went willingly. But never was sacrifice so
willing as our great sacrifice; and we may be
assured he hath appeased his Father's wrath,
and wrought atonement for us. Isaac was in
this a type of Christ; we hear of no reluct-
ance; he submitted quietly to be bound when
he was to be offered up. There are two
words used in Isaiah, chap. liii. 4, the one
signifying bearing, the other, taking away.
This bearing includes, also, that taking away
of the sins of the world, spoken of by St. John,
chap. i. 29, which answers to both ; and sc
he, the great antitype, answers to both the
goats, the sin-offering and the scape-goat,
Levit. xvi. He did bear our sins on his cross,
and thence did bear them away to his
grave, and there they are buried; and they
whose sins he did so bear, and take away,
and bury, shall hear no more of them as theirs
to bear. Is he not, then, worthy to be beheld,
in that notion under which John, in the fore-
mentioned text, viewed him, and designates
him 2–Behold the Lamb of God, which beareth
and taketh away the sins of the world !
You, then, who are gazing on vanity, be
persuaded to turn your eyes this way, and
behold this lasting wonder, this Lord of life
dying ! But the most, alas! want a due eye
for this object. It is the eye of faith alone,
that looks aright on him, and is daily discov-
ering new worlds of excellency and delight
in this crucified Savior; that can view him
daily, as hanging on the cross, without the
childish, gaudy help of a crucifix, and grow
in the knowledge of that love which passeth
knowledge, and rejoice itself in frequent think-
ing and speaking of him, instead of those idle
and vain thoughts at the best, and empty dis-
courses, wherein the most delight, and wear
out the day. What is all knowledge but
painted folly in comparison of this 2 Hadst
thou Solomon’s faculty to discourse of all
plants, and hadst not the right knowledge of
this root of Jesse ; wert thou singular in the
knowledge of the stars and of the course of
the heavens, and couldst walk through the
spheres with a Jacob’s staff, but ignorant of
this star of Jacob ; if thou knewest the histo-
ries of all time, and the life and death of all
the most famous princes, and could rehearse
them all, but dost not spiritually know and
apply to thyself the death of Jesus as thy life;
thou art stilla wretched fool, and all thy knowl-
edge with thee shall quickly perish. On the
other side, if thy capacity or breeding hath
denied thee the knowledge of all these things
wherein men glory so much, yet, do but learn
Christ crucified, and what wouldst thou have
more ? That shall make thee happy for ever.
For this is life eternal, to know thee the only
true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast
sent. John xvii. 3.
Here St. Paul takes up his rest, I determined
to know nothing, but Jesus Christ, and him
crucified. 1 Cor. ii. 2. As if he had said,
Whatsoever I knew besides, I resolved to be
as if I knew nothing besides this, the only
knowledge wherein I will rejoice myself, and
which I will labor to impart to others. I
have tried and compared the rest, and find
them all unworthy of their room beside this,
and my whole soul too little for this. I have
passed this judgment and sentence on all. I
have adjudged myself to deny all other knowl-
edge, and confined myself within this circle,
and I am not straitened. No, there is room
enough in it; it is larger than heaven and
earth, Christ, and him crucified ; the most
WER. 24.]
193
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
despised and ignominious part of knowledge,
yet the sweetest and most comfortable part
of all : the root whence all our hopes of life,
and all our spiritual joys do spring.
But the greatest part of mankind hear this
subject as a story. Some are a little moved
with the present sound of it, but they draw
it not home into their hearts, to make it theirs,
and to find salvation in it, but still cleave to
sin, and love sin better than him who suffer-
ed for it.
But you whose hearts the Lord hath deeply
humbled under a sense of sin, come to this
depth of consolation, and try it, that you may
have experience of the sweetness and riches
of it. Study this point thoroughly, and you
will find it answer all, and quiet your con-
sciences. Apply this bearing of sin by the
Lord Jesus for you, for it is published and
made known to you for this purpose. This
is the genuine and true use of it, as of the
brazen serpent, not that the people might
emptily gaze on the fabric of it, but that
those that looked on it might be cured. When
all that can be said, is said against you, “It
is true,” may you say, “but it is all satisfied
for ; he on whom I rest, made it his, and did
bear it for me.” The person of Christ is of
more worth than all men, yea, than all the
creatures, and therefore, his life was a full
ransom for the greatest offender.
And as for outward troubles and sufferings,
which were the occasion of this doctrine in
this place, they are all made exceeding light
by the removal of this great pressure. Let
the Lord lay on me what he will, seeing he
hath taken off my sin, and laid that on his
own Son in my stead. I may suffer many
things, but he hath borne that for me, which
alone was able to make me miserable.
And you that have this persuasion, how
will your hearts be taken up with his love,
who has so loved you as to give .#.
you ; who interposed himself to bear off from
you the stroke of everlasting death, and en-
countered all the wrath due to us, and went
through with that great work, by reason of
his unspeakable love! Let him never go
forth from my heart, who for my sake refused
to go down from the cross.
II. The end of these sufferings. That we
being dead to sin, should live unto righteous-
ness.] The Lord doth nothing in vain; he
hath not made the least of his works to no
purpose ; in wisdom hath he made them all,
says the psalmist. And this is true, not only
in regard of their excellent frame and order,
but of their end, which is a chief point of
wisdom. So then, in order to a right knowl-
edge of this great work put into the hands of
Jesus Christ, it is of special concern to under-
stand what is its end.
Now this is the thing which Divine wis-
dom and love aimed at in that great underta-
king, and therefore it will be our truest wis-
dom, and the truest evidence of our reflex
love, to intend the º thing, that in this,
2
the same mind may be in us, that was in Christ
Jesus in his suffering for us; for this very
end it is expressed, That we being dead to
sin, should live to righteousness.
In this there are three things to be consid-
ered : 1st, What this death and life is ; 2dly,
The designing of it in the sufferings and
death of Jesus Christ; 3dly, The effecting of
it by them.
1st. What this death and life is. Whatso-
ever it is, surely it is no small change that
bears the name of the great and last natural
change that we are subject to, a death, and
then another kind of life succeeding to it.
In this the greatest part of mankind are
mistaken, that they take any slight alteration
in themselves for true conversion. A world
of people are deluded with superficial moral
changes in their life, some rectifying of their
outward actions and course of life, and some-
what too in the temper and habit of their
mind. Far from reaching the bottom of na-
ture's wickedness, and laying the are to the
root of the tree, it is such a work as men can
make a shift with by themselves. But the
renovation which the Spirit of God worketh,
is like himself: it is so deep and total a
work, that it is justly called by the name of
the most substantial works and productions:
a new birth, and more than that, a new crea-
tion, and here, a death and a kind of life fol-
lowing it.
This death to sin, supposes a former living
in it, and to it; and while a man does so, he
is said indeed to be dead in sin, and yet
withal, this is true, that he lives in sin, as the
apostle, speaking of widows, joins the éx-
pressions, 1 Tim. v. 6, She that liveth in
pleasure, is dead while she liveth. So Eph. ii.
1, Dead in trespasses and sins, and he adds,
wherein ye walked, which imports a life, such
a one as it is ; and more expressly, ver. 3,
We had our conversation in the lusts of the
flesh. Now, thus to live in sin, is termed
being dead in it, because in that condition,
man is indeed dead in respect of that Divine
life of the soul, that happy being which it
should have in union with God, for which it
was made, and without which it had better
not be at all. For that life, as it is different
from its natural being, and a kind of life
above it, so it is contrary to that corrupt be-
ing and life it hath in sin; and therefore, to
live in sin, is to be dead in it, being a de-
privenent of that Divine being, that life of
the soul in God, in comparison whereof not
only the base life it hath in sin, but the very
natural life it hath in the body, and which
the body hath by it, is not worthy of the
name of life. You see the body, when the
thread of its union with the soul is cut, be-
come not only straightway a motionless lump,
but within a little time, a putrefied, noisome
carcass; and thus the soul by sin cut off from
God who is its life, as is the soul that of the
body, hath not only no moving faculty in
good, but becomes full of rottenness and vile-
194
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
ness: as the word is, Psalm xiv. 2, They are
gone aside and become filthy. The soul, by
turning away from God, turns filthy; yet, as
a man thus spiritually dead, lives naturally,
So, because he acts and spends that natural
life in the ways of sin, he is said to live in
sin. Yea, there is somewhat more in that
expression than the mere passing of his life
in that way; for instead of that happy life
his soul should have in God, he pleases him-
self in the miserable life of sin, that which is
his death, as if it were the proper life of his
soul: living in it imports that natural pro-
pension he hath to sin, and the continual de-
light he takes in it, as in his element, and
living to it, as if that were the very end of
his being. In that estate, neither his body
nor his mind stirreth without sin. Setting
aside his manifest breaches of the law, those
actions that are evidently and totally sinful,
his natural actions, his eating and drinking,
his religious actions, his praying, and hear-
ing, and preaching, are sin at the bottom.
And generally, his heart is no other than a
forge of sin. Every imagination, every fic-
tion of things framed there, is only evil con-
tinually ; Gen. vi. 5: every day, and all the
day long, it is his very trade and life.
Now, in opposition to this liſe of sin, this
living in it and to it, a Christian is said to die
to sin, to be cut off or separated from it. In
our miserable natural state, there is as close
a union between us and sin, as between our
Souls and bodies: it lives in us, and we in it,
and the longer we live in that condition, the
more the union grows, and the harder it is to
dissolve it; and it is as old as the union of
Soul and body, begun with it, so that nothing
but the death here spoken of can part them.
And this death, in this relative sense, is mu-
dual: in the work of conversion, sin dies, and
the soul dies to sin, and these two are really
One and the same thing. The spirit of God
kills both at one blow, sin in the soul, and the
Soul to sin: as the apostle says of himself
and the world, Gal. vi. 14, each is crucified
to the other.
And there are in it chiefly these two things,
which make the difference, [1, the solidity,
and [2,] the universality of this change here
represented under the notion of death.
Many things may lie in a man's way be-
tween him and the acting of divers sins
which possibly he affects most. Some re-
‘straints, either outward or inward, may be
upon him, the authority of others, the fear of
shame or punishment, or the check of an en-
lightened conscience; and though by reason
of these, he commit not the sin he would, yet
he lives in it, because he loves it, because he
would commit it: as we say, the soul lives
not so much where it animates, as where it
loves. And generally, that metaphorical kind
of life, by which man is said to live in any-
thing, hath its principal seat in the affection:
that is the immediate link of the union in
such a life; and the untying and death con-
sists chiefly in the disengagement of the
heart, the breaking off the affection from it.
Ye that love the Lord, says the psalmist, hate
evil, Psalm xcvii. 10. An unrenewed mind
may have some temporary dislikes even of its
beloved sins in cold blood, but it returns to
like them within a while. A man may not
only have times of cessation from his wonted
way of sinning, but, by reason of the society
wherein he is, and the withdrawing of occa-
sion to sin, and divers other causes, his very
desire after it may seem to himself to be aba-
ted, and yet he may be not dead to sin, but
only asleep to it; and therefore, when a temp-
tation, backed with opportunity and other in-
ducing circumstances, comes and jogs him,
he awakes, and arises, and follows it.
A man may for a while distaste some
meat which he loves (possibly upon a sur-
feit), but he quickly regains his liking of it.
Every quarrel with sin, every fit of dislike to
it, is not that hatred, which is implied in dy-
ing to sin. Upon the lively representation of
the deformity of his sin to his mind, certainly
a natural man may fall out with it; but this
is but as the little jars of husband and wife,
which are far from dissolving the marriage:
it is not a fixed hatred, such as among the
Jews inferred a divorce—If thou hate her,
put her away; that is to die to it; as by a le-
gal divorce the husband and wife are civilly
dead one to another in regard to the tie and
use of marriage.
Again ; some men's education, and custom,
and moral principles, may free them from the
grossest kind of sins, yea, a man's temper may
be averse from them, but they are alive to
their own kind of sins, such as possibly are
not so deformed in the common account, cov-
etousness, or pride, or hardness of heart, and
either a hatred or a disdain of the ways of
holiness which are too strict for them, and
exceed their size. Besides, for the good of
human society, and for the interest of his
own church and people, God restrains many
natural men from the height of wickedness,
and gives them moral virtues. There be
very many, and very common sins, which
more refined natures, it may be, are scarcely
tempted to ; but as in their diet, and apparel,
and other things in their natural life, they
have the same kind of being with other per-
sons, though they are more neat and elegant,
so, in this living to sin, they live the same
life with other ungodly men, though with a
little more delicacy. e
They consider not that the devils are not
in themselves subject to, nor capable of, many
of those sins that are accounted grossest
among men, and yet are greater rebels and
enemies to God than men are.
But to be dead to sin goes deeper, and ex-
tends further than all this; it involves a most
inward alienation of heart from sin, and most
universal from all sin, an antipathy to the most
beloved sin. Not only doth the believer for-
bear sin, but he hates it—I hate vain thoughts,
WER. 24.]
195
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
Psalm crix. 113; and not only doth he hate
some sins, but all—I hate every false way, ver.
128. A stroke at the heart does it, which is the
certainest and quickest death of any wound.
For in this dying to sin, the whole man of
necessity dies to it; the mind dies to the de-
vice and study of sin, that vein of invention
becomes dead; the hand dies to the acting of
it; the ear, to the delightful hearing of things
profane and sinful; the tongue, to the world's
dialect of oaths, and rotten speaking, and cal-
umny, and evil-speaking, which is the com-
monest effect of the tongue’s life in sin—the
very natural heat of sin exerts and vents itself
most that way ; the eye becomes dead to
that intemperate look that Solomon speaks
of, when he cautions us againsteying the wine
when it is red and well-colored in the cup,
Prov. xxiii. 31 : it is not taken with looking
on the glittering skin of that serpent till it bite
and sting, as there he adds. It becomes also
dead to that unchastelook which kindlesfire in
the heart, to which Job blindfolded and dead-
ened his eyes, by an express compact and
agreement with them : I have made a cove-
nant with mine eyes. Job xxxi. 1.
The eye of a godly man is not fixed on the
false sparkling of the world's pomp, honor, and
wealth ; it is dead to them, being quite daz-
zled with a greater beauty. The grass looks
fine in the morning, when it is set with those
liquid pearls, the drops of dew that shine upon
it; but if you can look but a little while on
the body of the sun, and then look down
again, the eye is as it were dead; it sees not
that faint shining on the earth that it thought
so gay before : and as the eye is blinded, and
dies to it, so, within a few hours, that gayety
quite evanishes and dies itself.
Men think it strange that the godly are not
fond of their diet, that their appetite is not
stirred with desire of their delights and dain-
ties; they know not that such as be Chris-
tians indeed, are dead to those things, and the
best dishes that are set before a dead man,
give him not a stomach. The godly man's
throat is cut to those meats, as Solomon advises
in another subject, Prov. xxiii. 2. But why
may not you be a little more sociable to ſol-
low the fashion of the world, and take a
share with your neighbors, may some say,
without so precisely and narrowly examining
everything 2 It is true, says the Christian,
that the time was when I advised as little
with conscience as others, but sought my-
self, and pleaded myself, as they do, and
looked no further, but that was when I was
alive to those ways ; but now, truly, I am
dead to them : and can you look for activity
and conversation from a dead man 2 The
pleasures of sin wherein I lived, are still the
Same, but I am not the same. Are you such
a sneak and a fool, says the natural man, as
to bear affronts, and swallow them, and say
nothing 2 Can you suffer to be so abused by
such and such a wrong? Indeed, says the
Christian again, I could once have resented
an injury, as you or another would, and had
Somewhat of what you call high-hearteded-
mess, when I was alive after your fashion;
but now, that humor is not only something
cooled, bnt it is killed in me; it is cold dead,
as ye say: and a greater spirit, I think, than
my own, hath taught me another lesson, hath
made me both deaf and dumb that way, and
hath given me a new vent, and another lan-
guage, and another party to speak to on such
occasions. They that seek my hurt, says
David, speak mischievous things, and ima-
gine deceits all the day long. What doth
fie in this case? But I, as a deaf man, heard
not, and I was as a dumb man that openeth
not his mouth. And why 3 For in thee, O
Lord, do I hope. Psalm xxxviii. 12–15. And
for this deadness that you despise, I have
seen him who died for me, who, when he was
reviled, reviled not again.
This is the true character of a Christian ;
he is dead to sin. But, alas ! where is this
Christian to be found 2 And yet, thus is ev-
ery one who truly partakes of Christ; he is
dead to sin really. Hypocrites have an his-
torical kind of death like this, as players in
tragedies. Those players have loose bags
of blood that receive the wound: so the
hypocrite in some externals, and it may be,
in that which is as near him as any outward
thing, his purse, may suffer some bloodshed
of that for Christ. But this death to sin is
not a swooning fit, that one may recover out
of again : the apostle, Rom. vi. 4, adds, that
the believer is buried with Christ.
But this is an unpleasant subject, to talk
thus of death and burial. The very name
of death, in the softest sense it can have,
makes a sour, melancholy discourse. It is so
indeed, if you take it alone, if there were
not, for the life that is lost, a far better one
immediately following ; but so it is here ; liv-
ing unto righteousness succeeds dying to sin.
hat which makes natural death so af.
frightful, the King of terrors, as Job calls it,
ch. xvii. 14, is mainly this faint belief and
assurance of the resurrection and glory to
come ; and without some lively apprehen-
sion of this, all men's moral resolutions
and discourses are too weak cordials against
this fear. They may set a good face on it,
and speak big, and so cover the fear they
can not cure ; but certainly, they are a little
ridiculous who would persuade men to con-
tent to die, by reasoning from the necessity
and unavoidableness of it, which, taken alone,
rather may beget a desperate discontent than
a quiet compliance. The very weakness of
that argument is, that it is too strong, durum
telum. That of company is ſantastic ; it
may please the imagination, but satisfies not
the judgment. Nor are the miseries of life,
though an argument somewhat more proper,
a full persuasive to meet death without re-
luctance: the oldest, the most decrepit, and
most diseased persons, yet naturally fall not
out with life, but could have a mind to it
196
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
still ; and the very truth is this, the worst
cottage any One dwells in, he is loath to go
out of till he knows of a better. And the
reason why that which is so hideous to oth-
ers, was so sweet to martyrs (Heb. xi. 35),
and other godly men who have heartily em-
braced death, and welcomed it though in
very terrible shapes, was, because they had
firm assurance of immortality beyond it.
The ugly death's head, when the light of
glory shines through the holes of it, is comely
and lovely. To look upon death as etermi-
ty's birth-day, is that which makes it not
only tolerable, but amiable. Hic dies pos-
tremus, aeterni natalis est, is the word I ad-
mire more than any other that ever drop-
ped from a heathen.
Thus here, the strongest inducement to
this death, is the true notion and contempla-
tion of this life unto which it transfers us.
It is most necessary to represent this, for a
natural man hath as great an aversion every
whit from this figurative death, this dying to
sin, as from matural death ; and there is the
more necessity of persuading him to this, be-
cause his consent ts necessary to it. No man
dies this death to sin, unwillingly, although
no man is naturally willing to it. Much of
this death consists in a man's consenting thus
to die; and this is not only a lawful, but a
laudable, yea, a necessary self-murder. Mor-
tify, therefore, your members which are upon
the earth, says the apostle, Col. iii. 5. Now
no sinner would be content to die to sin, if
that were all ; but if it be passing to a more
excellent life, then he gaineth, and it were
a folly not to seek this death. It was a
Strange power of Plato's discourse of the
soul's immortality, that moved a young man,
upon reading it, to throw himself into the
Sea, that he might leap through it to that
immortality: but truly, were this life of God,
this life to righteousness, and the excellency
and delight of it known, it would gain many
minds to this death whereby we step into it.
But there is a necessity of a new being as
the principle of new action and motion. The
apostle says, While ye served sin, ye were
free from righteousness, Rom. vi. 20; so it
is, while ye were alive to sin, ye were dead
to righteousness. But there is a new breath
of life from heaven, breathed on the soul.
Then lives the soul indeed, when it is one
with God, and sees light in his light, Psalm
xxxii. 9—hath a spiritual knowledge of him,
and therefore sovereignly loves him, and de-
lights in his will. And this is indeed, to live
unto righteousness, which, in a comprehen-
sive sense, takes in all the frame of a Chris-
tian life, and all the duties of it toward God
and toward men.
By this new nature, the very natural mo-
tion of the soul so taken, is obedience to God;
and walking in the paths of righteousness,
it can no more live in the habit and ways of
sin, than a man can live under water. Sin
is not the Christian's element; it is as much
too gross for his renewed soul, as the water
is for his body; he may fall into it, but he
can not breathe in it; can not take delight,
and continue to live in it. But his delight is
in the law of the Lord, Psalm i. 2. That is
the walk which his soul refreshes itself in ;
he loves it entirely, and loves it most, where
it most crosses the remainders of corruption
that are within him. He bends the strength
of his soul to please God; aims wholly at
that ; it takes up his thoughts early and late.
He hath no other purpose in his being and
living, than only to honor his Lord. This is,
to live to righteousness. He doth not make
a by-work of it, a study for his spare hours:
no, it is his main business, his all. In his
law doth he meditate day and night. . This
life, like the natural one, is seated in the
heart, and thence diffuses itself to the
whole man ; he loves righteousness, and re-
ceiveth the truth (as the apostle speaks) in the
love of it. A natural man may do many
things which, as to their shell and outside,
are righteous; but he lives not to righteous-
ness, because his heart is not possessed and
ruled by the love of it. But this life makes
the godly man delight to walk uprightly and
to speak of righteousness; his language and
ways carry the resemblance of his heart. I
know it is easiest to act that part of religion
which is in the tongue, but the Christian,
nevertheless, ought not to be spiritually
dumb. Because some birds are taught to
speak, men do not for that give it over, and
leave off to speak. The mouth of the righte-
ous speaketh wisdom, and his tongue talketh
of judgment. And his feet strive to keep
pace with his tongue, which gives evidence
of its unfeignedness; none of his steps shall
slide, or, he shall not stagger in his steps.
But that which is betwixt these, is the com-
mon spring of both ; the law of God is in
his heart. See Psalm xxxvii. 30, 31 ; and
thence, as Solomon says, are the issues of his
life, Prov. iv. 3. That law in his heart, is
the principle of this living to righteousness.
2. The second thing here, is, that it was
the design of the sufferings and death of
Christ, to produce in us this death and life:
He bare sin, and died for it, that we might
die to it. {
Out of some conviction of the consequence
of sin, many have a confused desire to be
justified, to have sin pardoned, who look no
arther: they think not on the importance
and necessity of sanctification, the nature
whereof is expressed by this dying to sin, and
living to righteousness. º g
But here we see that sanctification is neces-
sary as inseparably connected with justifica-
tion, not only as its companion, but as its end,
which, in some sort, raises it above the other.
We see that it was the thing which God eyed
and intended, in taking away the guiltiness
of sin, that we might be renewed and sancti-
fied. If we compare them in point of time,
looking backward,holiness was always neces-
VER. 24.]
197
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
sary unto happiness, but satisfying for sin,
and the pardon of it, were made necessary by
sin; or, if we look forward, the estate we are
appointed to, and for which we are delivered
from wrath, is an estate of perfect holiness.
When we reflect upon that great work of re-
demption, we see it aimed at there, redeemed
to be holy, Eph. v. 25, 26; Tit. ii. 14. And
if we go yet higher, to the very spring, the
decree of election, with regard to that it is
said, Eph. i. 14, Chosen before, that we should
be holy. And the end shall suit the design:
Nothing shall enter into the new Jerusalem
that is defiled, or unholy; nothing but perfect
purity is there ; not a spot of sinful pollution,
not a wrinkle of the old man. For this end
was that great work undertaken by the Son
of God, that he might frame out of polluted
mankind a new and holy generation to his
Father, who might compass his throne in the
life of glory, and give him pure praises, and
behold his face in that eternity. Now, for
this end it was needful, according to the all-
wise purpose of the Father, that the guilti-
ness of sin and sentence of death should be
Once removed : and thus, the burden of that
lay upon Christ's shoulders on the cross.
That done, it is further necessary, that souls
so delivered be likewise purified and renew-
ed, for they are designed for perfection of
holiness in the end, and it must begin here.
Yet it is not possible to persuade men of
this, that Christ had this in this eye and pur-
pose when he was lifted up upon the cross,
and looked upon the whole company of those
his Father had given him to save, that he would
redeem them to be a number of holy persons.
We would be redeemed ; who is there that
would not ? But Christ would have his re-
deemed ones holy ; and they who are not
true to this his end, but cross and oppose him
in it, may hear of redemption long and often,
but little to their comfort. Are you resolved
still to abuse and delude yourselves? Well,
whether you will believe it or not, this is
once more told you: there is unspeakable
comfort in the death of Christ, but it belongs
only to those who are dead to sin, and alive
to righteousness. This circle shuts out the
impenitent world; there it closes, and can
not be broken through ; but all who are peni-
tent, are by their effectual calling lifted into
it, translated from that accursed condition
wherein they were. So then, if you will live
in your sins, you may ; but then, resolve
withal to bear them yourselves, for Christ,
in his bearing of sin, meant the benefit of
none, but such as in due time are thus dead,
and thus alive with him.
3. But then, in the third place, Christ's suf-
ferings and death effect all this. º: As the
exemplary cause, the lively contemplation of
Christ crucified, in the most powerful of all
thoughts, to separate the heart and sin. But
[2,] besides this example, working as a moral
cause, Christ is the effective matural cause of
this death and life; for he is one with the
believer, and there is a real influence of his
death and life into their souls. This mysteri-
ous union of Christ and the believer, is that
whereon both their justification and sanctifi-
cation, the whole frame of their salvation
and happiness, depends. And in this particu-
lar view the apostle still insists on it, speak-
ing of Christ and believers as one in his death
and resurrection, crucified with him, dead with
him, buried with him, and risen with him.
Rom. vi. 4, &c. Being arisen he applies his
death to those he died for, and by it kills the
life of sin in them, and so is avenged on it
for its being the cause of his death: according
to that expression of the Psalmist, Raise me
up, that I may requite them. Psalm. xli. 10.
Christ infuses, and then actuates and stirs up
that faith and love in them, by which they
are united to him; and these work powerfully
in producing this. º
[3.] Faith looks so steadfastly on its suffer-
ing Savior, that as they say, Intellectus fit
illud quod intelligit, the mind becomes that
which it contemplates. It makes the Soul
like him, assimilates and conforms it to his
death, as the apostle speaks, Phil. iii. 10.
That which papists fabulously say of some
of their saints, that they received the im-
pression of the wounds of Christ in their body,
is true, in a spiritual sense, of the soul of every
one that is indeed a saint and a believer: it
takes the very print of his death, by behold-
ing him, and dies to sin; and then takes that
of his rising again, and lives to righteousness.
As it applies it to ºffſ , so to mortify, draw-
ing virtue from it. Thus said one, “Christ
aimed at this in all those sufferings which,
with so much love, he went through ; and
shall I disappoint him, and not serve his end?”
[4] That other powerful grace of love joins
in this work with faith; for love desires noth-
ing more than likeness and conformity :
though it be a painful resemblance, so much
the better and fitter to testify love. There-
fore it will have the soul die with him who
died for it, and the very same kind of death :
I am crucified with Christ, says the great
apostle, Gal. ii. 20. The love of Christ in
the soul takes the very nails that fastened
him to the cross, and crucifies the soul to the
world, and sin. Love is strong as death,
particularly in this. The strongest and live-
liest body, when death seizes it, must yield,
and that become motionless, which was so
vigorous before: thus the soul that is most
active and unwearied in sin, when this love sei-
zes it, is killed to sin; and as death separates a
man from his dearest friends and society, this
love breaks all its ties and friendship with
sin. Generally, as Plato hath it, love takes
away one's living in one's self, and transfers
it into the party loved ; but the divine love
of Christ doth it in the truest and highest
IſláIll] elſ.
By whose stripes ye were healed.] The mis-
ery of fallen man, and the mercy of his de-
liverance, are both of them such a depth,
198
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
that no one expression, yea, no variety of ex-
pressions added one to another, can fathom
them. Here we have divers very significant
Ones. 1. The guiltiness of sin as an intolerable
burden, pressing the soul and sinking it, and
that transferred and laid on a stronger back:
He bare. Then, 2. The same wretchedness,
under the notion of a strange disease, by all
other means incurable, healed by his stripes.
And, 3. It is again represented by the forlorn
condition of a sheep wandering, and our sal-
vation to be found only in the love and wis-
dom of our great Shepherd. And all these
are borrowed from that sweet and clear proph-
ecy in the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah.
The polluted nature of man is no other than
a bundle of desperate diseases: he is spiritu-
ally dead, as the Scriptures often teach. Now
this contradicts not, nor at all lessens the
matter; but only because this misery, justly
called death, exists in a subject animated
with a natural life, therefore, so considered,
it may bear the name and sense of sickness,
or wounds: and therefore it is gross mispris-
ion—they are as much out in their argument
as in their conclusion, who would extract,
out of these expressions, any evidence that
there are remains of spiritual life, or good, in
our corrupted nature. But they are not wor-
thy the contest, though vain heads think to
argue themselves into life, and are seeking
that life, by logic, in miserable nature, which
they should seek, by faith, in Jesus Christ,
namely, in these his stripes, by which we are
healed. •
It were a large task to name our spiritual
maladies; how much more, severally to un-
fold their natures | Such a multitude of cor-
rupt false principles in the mind, which, as
gangrenes, do spread themselves through the
soul, and defile the whole man ; that total
gross blindness and unbelief in spiritual
things, and that stone of the heart, hardness
and impenitency : lethargies of senselessness
and security; and then (for there be such
complications of spiritual diseases in us, as in
naturals are altogether impossible) such burn-
ing fevers of inordinate affections and desires,
of lust, and malice, and envy, such racking
and tormenting cares of covetousness, and
feeding on earth and ashes (as the prophet
speaks in another case, Isa. xliv. 20), accord-
Ing to the depraved appetite that accompa-
nies some diseases; such tumors of pride and
self-conceit, that break forth, as filthy botch-
es, in men's words and carriage one with an-
other | In a word, what a wonderful disorder
must needs be in the natural soul, by the fre-
quent interchanges and fight of contrary pas-
sions within it ! And, besides all these, how
many deadly wounds do we receive from with-
out, by the temptations of Satan and the
world ! We entertain them, and by weapons
with which they furnish us, we willingly
wound ourselves; as the apostle says of them
who will be rich, they fall into divers snares
and noisome lusts, and pierce themselves
º with many sorrows. 1 Timothy vi.
, 10.
Did we see it, no infirmary or hospital was
ever so full of loathsome and miserable spec-
tacles, as, in a spiritual sense, our wretched
nature is in º one of us apart: how much
more when multitudes of us are met together'
But our evils are hid from us, and we perish
miserably in a dream of happiness . This
makes up and completes our wretchedness,
that we feel it not with our other diseases;
and this makes it worse still. This was the
church's disease, Rev. iii. 17: Thou sayest,
I am rich, and knowest not that thou art poor,
&c. We are usually full of complaints of tri-
fling griefs which are of small moment, and
think not on, nor feel our dangerous mala-
dies: as he who showed a physician his sore
finger, but the physician told him, he had more
need to think on the cure of a dangerous im-
posthume within him, which he perceived by
looking at him, though himself did not feel it.
In dangerous maladies or wounds, there be
these evils: a tendency to death, and, with
that, the apprehension of the terror and fear
of it, and the present distemper of the body.
So, there are in sin, 1. The guiltiness of sin
binding over the soul to death, the most
frightful, eternal death; 2. The terror of con-
science in the apprehension of that death, or
the wrath that is the consequence and end of
sin ; 3. The raging and prevailing power of
sin, which is the ill habitude and distemper
of the soul. But these stripes, and that blood
which issued from them, are a sound cure.
Applied unto the soul, they take away the
guiltiness of sin, and death deserved, and free
us from our engagement to those everlasting
scourgings and lashes of the wrath of God ;
and they are likewise the only cure of those
present terrors and pangs of conscience, ari-
sing from the sense of that wraſh and sen-
tence of death upon the soul. Our iniquities
which met on Him, laid open to the rod that
back which in itself was free. Those hands
which never wrought iniquity, and those feet
which never declined from the way of righ-
teousness, yet, for our works and wanderings,
were pierced; and that tongue dropped with
vinegar and gall on the cross, which never
spoke a guileful nor sinful word. The blood
of those stripes is that balm issuing from that
Tree of Life so pierced, which can alone give
ease to the conscience, and heal the wounds
of it: they deliver from the power of sin,
working by their influence a loathing of sin,
which was the cause of them ; they cleanse
out the vicious humors of our corrupt nature,
by opening that issue of repentance: They
shall look on him, and mourn over him whom
they have pierced, Zech. xii. 10. e
Now, to the end it may thus cure, it must
be applied: it is the only receipt, but, in order
to heal, it must be received. The most sov-
ereign medicines cure not in any other man-
ner, and therefore, still their first letter is R,
Recipe, take such a thing.
WER. 25.]
199
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
This is among the wonders of that great
work, that the sovereign Lord of all, who
binds and looses at his pleasure the influences
of heaven, and the power and workings of all
the creatures, would himself in our flesh be
thus bound, the only Son bound as a slave,
and scourged as a malefactor And his wil-
ling obedience made this an acceptable and
expiating sacrifice, among the rest of his suf-
ferings: He gave his back to the smiters,
Isa. l. 6.
Now, it can not be that any one who is
thus healed, reflecting upon this cure, can
again take any constant delight in sin. It is
impossible so far to forget both the grief it
bred themselves, and that which it cost their
Lord, as to make a new agreement with it, to
live in the pleasure of it.
His stripes.] Turn your thoughts, every
one of you, to consider this: you that are not
healed, that you may be healed ; and you
that are, apply it still to perfect the cure in
that part wherein it is gradual and not com-
plete ; and for the ease you have found, bless
and love Him who endured so much uneasi-
ness to that end. There is a sweet mixture
of sorrow and joy in contemplating these
stripes; sorrow, surely, by sympathy, that
they were his stripes, and joy, that they were
our healing. Christians are too little mind-
ful and sensible of this, and, it may be, are
somewhat guilty of that with which Ephraim
is charged, Hos. xi. 3: They knew not that I
healed them.
VER. 25. For ye were as sheep going astray, but are
now returned to the shepherd and bishop of your
souls.
IN these few words, we have a brief and
yet clear representation of the wretchedness
of our natural condition, and of our happiness
in Christ. The resemblance is borrowed from
# same place in the prophet Isaiah, chap.
iii. 6.
Not to press the comparison, or, as it is too
usual with commentators, to strain it beyond
the purpose, in reference to our lost estate,
this is all, or the main circumstance wherein
the resemblance with sheep holds—our wan-
dering, as forlorn and exposed to destruction,
like a sheep that has strayed and wandered
from the fold. So taken, it imports, indeed,
the loss of a better condition, the loss of the
safety and happiness of the soul, of that good
which is proper to it, as the suitable good of
the brute creature here named, is, safe and
good pasture.
That we may know there is no one exempt
in nature from the guiltiness and misery of
this wandering, the prophet is express as to
the universality of it. All we have gone astray.
And though the apostle here applies it in par-
ticular to his brethren, yet it falls not amiss
to any others. , Ye were as sheep going astray.
Yea, the prophet there, to the collective uni-
versal, adds a distributive, Every man to his
own way, or, a man to his way. They agree
in this, that they all wander, though they
differ in their several ways. There is an in-
bred proneness to stray in them all, more
than in sheep, which are creatures naturally
wandering, for each man hath his own way.
And this is our folly, that we flatter our-
selves by comparison, and every one is pleased
with himself because he is free from Some
wanderings of others; not considering that
he is a wanderer too, though in another way:
he hath his way, as those he looks on have
theirs. And as men agree in wandering,
though they differ in their way, so those ways
agree in this, that they lead unto misery, and
shall end in that. Think you there is no way
to hell, but the way to open profaneness?
Yes, surely, many away that seems smooth
and clean in a man's own eyes, and yet will
end in condemnation. Truth is but one, error
endless and interminable. As we say of nat-
ural life and death, so may we say in respect
of spiritual the way to life is one, but there
are many out of it. Lethi mille aditus. Each
one hath not opportunity nor ability for every
sin, or every degree of sin, but each sin after
his own mode and power. Isa. xl. 20. .
Thy tongue, it may be, wanders not in the
common path-road of oaths and curses, yet it
wanders in secret calumnies, in detraction
and defaming of others, though so conveyed
as it scarcely appears; or, if thou speak them
not, yet thou art pleased to hear them. It
wanders, in trifling away the precious hours
of irrecoverable time, with vain unprofitable
babblings in thy converse; or, if thou art
much alone, or in company much silent, yet,
is not thy foolish mind still hunting Vanity,
following this self-pleasing design or the oth-
er, and seldom, and very slightly, if at all,
conversant with God and the things of heaven,
which, although they alone have the truest
and the highest pleasure in them, yet to thy
carnal mind are tasteless and unsavory?
There is scarcely anything so light and child:
ish, that thou wilt not more willingly and
liberally bestow thy retired thoughts on; than
upon those excellent, incomparable delights.
Oh the foolish heart of man when it may
seem deep and serious, how often is it at
Domitian's exercise in his study—catching
flies 1
Men account little of the wanderings of
their hearts, and yet truly that is most of all
to be considered; for from thence are the is-
sues of life, Prov. iv. 23. It is the heart that
hath forgotten God, and is roving after vanity:
this causes all the errors of men's words and
actions. A wandering heart makes wander-
ing eyes, feet, and tongue; it is the leading
wanderer that misleads all the rest. And as
we are here called straying sheep, so, within
the heart itself of each of us, there is as it
were a whole wandering flock, a multitude
of fictions (Gen. viii. 21), ungodly devices.
The word that signifies the evil of the
thought in Hebrew, here, y) from yn' is taken
from that which signifies feeding of a flock,
200
[CHAP. II.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
and it likewise signifies wandering; and so
these meet in our thoughts, they are a great
flock and a wandering flock. This is the nat-
ural freedom of our thoughts; they are free
to wander from God and heaven, and to carry
us to perdition. And we are guilty of many
pollutions this way, which we never acted.
Men are less sensible of heart-wickedness, if
it break not forth ; but the heart is far more
active in sin than any of the senses, or the
whole body. The motion of spirits is far
Swifter than that of bodies. The mind can
make a greater progress in any of these wan-
derings in one hour, than the body is able to
follow in many days.
When the body is tied to attendance in the
exercises wherein we are employed, yet know
you not—it is so much the worse if you do
not know, and feel it, and bewail it—know
you not, I say, that the heart can take its lib-
erty, and leave you nothing but a carcass?
This the unrenewed heart doth continually.
They come and sit before me as my people, but
their heart is after their covetousness. Ezek.
xxxiii. 31. It hath another way to go, anoth-
er God to wait on.
But are now returned.] Whatsoever are
the several ways of our straying, all our wan-
dering originates in the aversion of the heart
from God, whence of necessity follows a con-
tinual unsettledness and disquiet. The mind,
as a wave of the sea, tossed to and fro with
the wind, tumbles from one sin and vanity to
another, and finds no rest; or, as a sick per-
Son tosses from one side to another, and from
One part of his bed to another, and perhaps
changes his bed, in hope of ease, but still it
is further off, thus is the soul in all its wan-
derings. But shift and change as it will, no
rest shall it find until it come to this return-
ing. Jer. ii. 36: Why gaddest thou about so
much to change thy way? Thou shalt be
ashamed of Egypt as thou wast of Assyria |
Nothing but sorrow and shame, till you
change all those ways for this one. Return,
O Israel, says the Lord, if thou wilt return,
return unto me. It is not changing one of
your own ways for another, that will profit
you ; but in returning to me is your salvation.
Seeing we find in our own experience, be-
sides the woful end of our wanderings, the
present perplexity and disquiet of them, why
are we not persuaded to this, to give up with
them all ? Return unto thy rest, O my soul,
says David, Psalm crvi. 7; this were our
wisdom.
But is not that God in whom we expect
rest, incensed against us for our wandering 2
and is he not, being offended, a consuming
fire 2 True, but this is the way to find ac-
ceptance and peace, and Satisfying comforts
in returning: come first to this Shepherd of
souls, Jesus Christ, and by him, come unto
the Father. No man comes unto the Father,
says he, but by me. This is the via regia,
the high and right way of returning unto
God. John x. 11: I am the good shepherd ;
and ver, 9; I am the door: by me if any man
enter in, he shall be saved. But if he miss
this door, he shall miss salvation too. Ye
are returned, says the apostle, unto the shep-
herd and bishop of your souls.
There be three things necessary to restore
us to our happiness, whence we have departed
in our wanderings: 1. To take away the
guiltiness of those former wanderings. 2. To
reduce us into the way again. 3. To keep
and lead us in it.
Now all these are performable only by this
great shepherd. 1. He did satisfy for the of
fence of our wanderings, and so remove our
guiltiness. He himself, the shepherd, became
a sacrifice for his flock, a sheep, or spotless
lamb. So, lsa. liii. 6, We like sheep have
gone astray; and immediately after the men-
tion of our straying, it is added, The Lord
laid, or, made meet on him, the iniquity of us
all, of all our strayings; and ver. 7, He is
brought as a lamb to the slaughter. He who
is our shepherd, the same is the lamb for sac-
rifice. So our apostle, ch. i., We are redeem-
ed, not by silver and gold, but by the precious
blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish
and without spot. So, John x. 11, He is the
good shepherd that lays down his life for his
sheep. Men think not on this; many of them
who have some thoughts of returning and
amendment, think not that there is a satisfac-
tion due for past wanderings; and therefore
they pass by Christ, and consider not the me-
cessity of returning to him, and by him to the
Father.
2. He brings them back into the way of
life: Ye are returned. But think not it is
by their own knowledge and skill, that they
discover their error, and find out the right
path, or that by their own strength they re-
turn into it. No, if we would contest gram-
maticisms, the word here, is passive; ye are
returned, reduced, or caused to return. But
this truth hangs not on so weak notions as
are often used, either for or against it. In
that prophecy, Ezek. xxxiv. 16, God says, I
will seek and bring again, &c. And, Psalm
xxiii. 3, David says, he restoreth or returneth
my soul. And that this is the work of this
shepherd, the Lord Jesus God-man, is clearly
and frequently taught in the gospel. He
came for this very end : it was his errand and
business in the world, to seek and to save that
which was lost. And thus it is represented in
the parable, Luke xv. 4, 5; he goes after
that which was lost until he find it, and then,
having found it, doth not only show it the
way, and say to it, return, and so leave it to
come after, but he lays it on his shoulder, and
brings it home; and notwithstanding all his
pains, instead of complaining against it for
wandering, he rejoices in that he hath found
and recovered it: he lays it on his shoulder
rejoicing. And in this, there is as much of
the resemblance as in any other thing. Lost
man can no more return unsought, than a
sheep that wandereth, which is observed of
WER. 25.]
201
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
all creatures to have least of that skill. Men
may have some confused thoughts of return-
ing, but to know the way and to come, unless
they be sought out, they are unable. This is
David's suit, though acquainted with the
fold, I have gone astray like a lost sheep :
Lord, seek thy servant. Psal. cxix. ult. This
did our great and good shepherd, through
those difficult ways he was to pass for finding
us, wherein he not only hazarded, but really
laid down his life; and those shoulders which
did bear the iniquity of our wanderings, by
expiation, upon the same doth he bear and
bring us back from it by effectual conver-
SIOIl.
3. He keeps and leads us on in that way
into which he hath restored us. He leaves
us not again to try our own skill, whether we
can walk to heaven alone, being set into the
path of it, but he still conducts us in it by his
own hand, and that is the cause of our per-
sisting in it, and attaining the blessed end of
it. He restoreth my soul, says the Psalmist,
Psalm xxiii. 2; and that is not all: he adds,
He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness
for his name's sake. Those paths are the
green pastures meant, and the still waters
that he speaks of And thus we may judge
whether we are of his flock. Are we led in
the paths of righteousness 2 Do we delight
ourselves in him, and in his ways? Are they
the proper refreshment of our souls 2 Do we
find his words sweet unto our taste 2 Are we
taken with the green pastures in it, and the
crystal streams of consolations that glide
through it? Can we discern his voice, and
does it draw our hearts, so that we follow it?
John x. 27.
The shepherd and bishop.] . It was the
style of kings to be called shepherds, and is
the dignity of the ministers of the gospel to
have both these names. But this great shep-
herd and bishop is peculiarly worthy of these
names, as Supreme: he alone is the universal
shepherd and bishop, and none but an anti-
christ, who makes himself as Christ, killing
and destroying the flock, will assume this
title which belongs only to the Lord, the
great owner of his flock. He himself is their
great shepherd and bishop. All shepherds
and bishops who are truly such, have their
function and place from him ; they hold of
him, and follow his rule and example, in
their inspection of the flock. It were the
happiness of kingdoms, if magistrates and
kings would set him, his love, and meekness,
and equity, before their eyes in their govern-
ment. And all those who are properly his
bishops are under especial obligations to study
this pattern, to warm their affections to the
flock, and to excite a tender care of their sal-
vation, by looking on this arch-bishop and
arch-shepherd (as our apostle calls him), and
in their measure, to follow his footsteps,
spending their life and strength in seeking
the good of his sheep, considering that they
are subordinately shepherds of souls, that is,
in dispensing spiritual things; so far the title
is communicable.
The Lord Jesus is supremely and singularly
such ; they, under him, are shepherds of
souls, because their diligence concerns the
soul, which excludes not the body in spiritual
respects, as it is capable of things spiritual
and eternal, by its union with the Soul. But
Christ is sovereign shepherd of souls above
all, and singular, in that he not only teaches
them the doctrine of salvation, but purchased
salvation for them, and inasmuch as he
reaches the soul powerfully, which ministers
by their own power can not do. He lays
hold on it, and restores, and leads it, and
causes it to walk in his ways. In this sense
it agrees to him alone, as supreme, in the in-
communicable sense.
And from his guidance, power, and love,
flows all the comfort of his flock. When
they consider their own folly and weakness,
this alone gives them confidence, that his
hand guides them; and they believe in his
strength far surpassing that of the roaring
lion (John x. 28–30), his wisdom, in knowing
their particular state and their weakness, and
his tender love in pitying them, and applying
himself to it. Other shepherds, even faithful
ones, may mistake them, and not know the
way of leading them in some particulars, and
they may be sometimes wanting in that ten-
der affection that they owe; or, if they have
that, yet they are not able to bear them up,
and support them powerfully; but this shep-
herd is perfect in all these respects. Is. Xl. 11.
The young and weak Christian, or the elder
at weak times, when they are big and heavy
with some inward exercise of mind, which
shall bring forth advantage and peace to them
afterward, them he leads gently, and uses
them with the tenderness that their weak-
ness requires.
And, in the general, he provides for his
flock, and heals them when they are any way
hurt, and washes them and makes them fruit-
ful; so that they are as that flock, described
Cant. iv. 2: they are comely, but their shep-
herd much more so: Formosi pecoris custos,
formosior ipse. They are given him in the
Father's purpose and choice, and so, those
that return, are, even while they wander,
sheep in some other sense than the rest which
perish. They are, in the secret love of elec-
tion, of Christ's sheepfold, though not as yet
actually brought into it. But when his time
comes, wheresoever they wander, and how
far off soever, even those who have strayed
most, yet he restores them, and rejoices
heaven with their return, and leads them till
he brings them to partake of the joy that is
there. That is the end of the way wherein
he guides them. John x. 27, 28: They hear
my voice, and follow me. And they shall
never repent having done so. To follow him,
is to follow life, for he is the life. He is in
that glory which we desire; and where
would we be, if not where he is, who, at his
26
202 A COMMENTARY UPON THE
[CHAP. III.
departure from the world, said, Where I am,
there they shall be also : To this happy
meeting and heavenly abode, may God, of his
infinite mercy, bring us, through Jesus Christ
our Lord ' Amen.
CHAPTER III.
VER. 1. Likewise, ye wives, be in subjection to your
own husbands; that if any one obey not the word,
they also, without the word, may be won by the
conversation of the wives.
THE tabernacle of the sun, Psalm xix. 4, is
set high in the heavens; but it is so, that it
may have influence below upon the earth.
And the word of God, which is spoken of
there immediately after, as being in many
ways like it, holds resemblance in this partic-
ular: it is a sublime heavenly light, and yet
descends, in its use, to the lives of men, in
the variety of their stations, to warm and to
enlighten, to regulate their affections and ac-
tions in whatsoever course of life they are
called to. By a perfect revolution or circuit,
as there it is said of the sun, it visits all ranks
and estates; its going forth is from the end
of heaven, and its circuit unto the ends of it,
and there is nothing hid from the heat of it ;
it disdains not to teach the very servants, in
their low condition and employments, how
to behave themselves, and sets before them
no meaner example than that of Jesus Christ,
which is the highest of all examples. So
here, the apostle proceeds to give rules adapt-
ed to that relation which is the main one in
families, that of husbands and wives. As for
the order it is indifferent; yet, possibly, he
begins here at the duties of wives, because
his former rules were given to inferiors, to
subjects and servants: and the duty he com-
mends particularly here to them, is subjec-
tion : Likewise, ye wives, be in subjection, &c.
After men have said all they can, and
much, it may be, to little purpose, in running
the parallel between these two estates of life,
marriage and celibacy, the result will be
found, I conceive, all things being truly esti-
mated, very little odds, even in natural re-
spects, in the things themselves, saving only
as the particular condition of persons, and
the hand of Divine Providence, turn the bal-
ance the one way or the other. The writing
of satires against either, or panegyrics on the
one in prejudice of the other, is but a caprice
of men's minds, according to their own hu-
mor; but in respect of religion, the apostle,
having Scanned the subject to the full, leaves
it indifferent, only requiring in those who are
so engaged, hearts as disengaged as may be,
that they that marry be as if they married
not, &c. 1 Cor. vii. 29, 31. Within a while,
it will be all one ; as he adds that grave rea-
son, For the fashion [axmpa) of this world
asseth—it is but a pageant, a show of an hour
ong [rapáyet], goes by, and is no more seen,
Thus, the great pomps and solemnities of
marriages of kings and princes, in former
times, where are they 2 Oh! how unseemly
is it to have an immortal soul drowned in the
esteem and affection of anything that per-
ishes, and to be cold and indifferent in seek-
ing after a good that will last as long as it.
self! Aspire to that good which is the only
match for the soul, that close union with God
which can not be dissolved, which he calls
an everlasting marriage, Hos. ii. 19 ; that
will make you happy, either with the other,
or without it. All the happiness of the most
excellent persons, and the very top of all af.
fection and prosperity meeting in human
marriages, are but a dark and weak repre-
sentation of the solid joy which is in that
mysterious divine union of the spirit of man
with the Father of spirits, from whom it
issues. But this by the way.
The common spring of all mutual duties,
on both sides, must be supposed to be love ;
that peculiar conjugal love which , makes
them one, will infuse such sweetness into the
authority of the husband and the obedience
of the wife, as will make their lives harmo-
nious, like the sound of a well-tuned instru-
ment; whereas, without that, having such a
universal conjuncture of interest in all their
affairs, they can not escape frequent contests
and discords, which is a sound more un-
pleasant than the jarring of untuned strings
to an exact ear. And this should be consid-
ered in the choice, that it be not, as it is too
often (which causeth so many domestic ills),
contracted only as a bargain of outward ad-
vantages, but as a union of hearts. And
where this is not, and there is something
wanting in this point of affection, there, if
the parties, or either of them, have any sa-
ving knowledge of God, and access to him in
prayer, they will be earnest suiters for his
help in this, that his hand may set right
what no other can ; that he who is love it-
self, may infuse that mutual love into their
hearts now, which they should have sought
sooner. And certainly, they who sensibly
want this, and yet seek it not of him, what
wonder is it, though they find much bitter-
ness and discontent? Yea, where they agree,
if it be only in natural affection, their obser-
vance of the duties required, is not by far
either so comfortable and pleasing, or so sure
and lasting, as when it ariseth from a reli-
gious and Christian love in both, which will
cover many failings, and take things by the
best side.
Love is the prime duty in both, the basis
of all; but because the particular character
of it, as proper to the wife, is conjugal obe-
dience and subjection, therefore that is usu-
ally specified, as Eph. v. 12; Wives, submit
yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto
#he Lord ; so here. Now, if it be such obe-
dience as ought to arise from a special kind
of love, then the wife would remember this,
that it must not be constrained, uncheerful
WER. 1.]
203
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
obedience: and the husband would remem-
ber, that he ought not to require base and
servile obedience ; for both these are con-
trary to that love, whereof this obedience
must carry the true tincture and relish, as
flowing from it: there all will hold right,
where love commands, and love obeys.
This subjection, as all other, is qualified
thus, that it be in the Lord. His authority
is primitive, and binds first, and all others
have their patents and privileges from him ;
therefore he is supremely and absolutely to
be observed in all. If the husband would
draw the wife to an irreligious course of life,
he is not to be followed in this, but in all
things indifferent, this obedience must hold;
which yet forbids not a modest advice and
representation to the husband, of that which
is more convenient, but that done, a submis-
sive yielding to the husband's will is the
suiting of this rule. Yea, possibly, the hus-
band may not only imprudently, but unlaw-
fully will that which, if not in its own na-
ture a thing unlawful, the wife by reason of
his will may obey lawfully, yea, could not
lawfully disobey.
Now, though this subjection was a funda-
mental law of pure nature, and came from
that Hand, which made all things in perfect
order, yet sin, which hath imbittered all hu-
man things with a curse, hath disrelished this
subjection, and made it taste somewhat of a
punishment (Gen. iii. 16), and that as a suit-
able punishment of the woman's abuse of the
power she had with the man, to the drawing
of him to disobedience against God.
The bitterness in this subjection arises
from the corruption of nature in both ; in
the wife a perverse desire rather to com-
mand, or at least a repining discontent at
the obligation to obey; and this is increased
by the disorder, and imprudence, and harsh-
ness of husbands, in the use of their au-
thority.
..But in a Christian, the conscience of di-
vine appointment will carry it, and weigh
down all difficulties; for the wife considers
her station, that she is set in it [itorageogával],
it is the rank the Lord's hand hath placed
her in, and therefore she will not break it :
from respect and love to him, she can digest
much frowardness in a husband, and make
that her patient subjection, a sacrifice to God:
Lord, I offer this to thee, and for thy sake I
humbly bear it.
The worth and love of a husband may
cause that respect, where this rule moves
not ; but the Christian wife who hath love
to God, though her husband be not so comely,
nor so wise, nor any way so amiable, as many
others, yet, because he is her own husband,
and because of the Lord's command in the
general, and his providence in the particular
disposal of his own, therefore she loves and
obeys.
That if any obey not the word. This sup-
poses a particular case, and applies the rule
to it, taking it for granted that a believing
wife will cheerfully observe and respect a
believing husband, but if he is an unbeliev-
er, yet that unties not this engagement;
yea, there is something in this case which
presses it and binds it the more, a singular
good which probably may follow upon obey-
ing such. By that good conversation, they
may be gained, who believe not the word:
not that they could be fully converted with-
out the word, but having a prejudice against
the word, that may be removed by the car-
riage of a believing wife, and they may be
somewhat mollified, and prepared, and in-
duced to hearken to religion, and take it into
consideration.
This gives not Christians a warrant to
draw on themselves this task, and make
themselves this work, by choosing to be join-
ed to an unbeliever, either a profane or
merely an unconverted husband or wife ; but
teacheth them, being so matched, what should
be their great desire, and their suitable car-
riage in order to the attainment of it. And
in the primitive Christian times, this fell out
often : by the gospel preached, the husband
might be converted from gross infidelity, Ju-
daism, or Paganism, and not the wife; or the
wife (which is the supposition here), and not
the husband; and then came in the use of
this consideration.
And this is the freedom of divine grace, to
pick and choose where it will, one of a family,
or two of a tribe, as the prophet hath it, Jer.
iii. 14; and according to our Savior's word,
two in one bed, the one taken, and the other
left, Luke xvii. 34; some selected ones in a
congregation, or, in a house, a child, possibly,
or servant, or wife, while it leaves the rest.
The apostle seems to imply particularly, that
there were many instances of this, wives being
converts, and their husbands unbelieving.
We can determine nothing as to their con-
jecture, who think that there will be more of
that sex, here called the weaker vessels, than of
the other, who shall be vessels of honor, which
God seasons with grace here, and hereafter
will fill with glory ; but this is clear, that
many of them are converted, while many men,
and divers of them very wise and learned
men, having the same or far greater means
and opportunities, do perish in unbelief. This,
I say, evidences the liberty and the power of
the spirit of God, that wind that bloweth where
it listeth ; and withal it suits with the word
of the apostle, that the Lord this way abases
those things that men account so much of,
and hath chosen the weak things of the world
to confound the mighty. 1 Cor. i. 26. Nor
doth the pliableness and tenderness of their
affections ſº grace, once wrought, may
make good use of that) make their conver-
sion easier, but the harder rather, for through
nature's corruption they would by that be led
to yield more to evil than to good; but the
efficacy of grace appears much in establishing
their hearts in the love of God, and in making
204
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
them, when once possessed with that, to be
inflexible and invincible by the temptations
of the world, and the strength and slights of
Satan.
That which is here said of their conversa-
tion, holds of the husband in the like case,
and of friends and kindred, and generally of
all Christians, in reference to them with
whom they converse; that their spotless,
holy carriage as Christians, and in their par-
ticular station, as Christian husbands, or
wives, or friends, is a very likely and hopeful
means of converting others who believe not.
Men who are prejudiced, observe actions a
great deal more than words. In those first
times specially, the blameless carriage of
Christians did much to the increasing of their
number.
Strive, ye wives, and others, to adorn and
commend the religion you profess to others,
especially those nearest you, who are averse.
Give no just cause of scandal and prejudice
against religion. Beware not only of gross
failings and ways of sin, but of such impru-
dences as may expose you and your profes-
sion. Study both a holy and a wise carriage,
and pray much for it. If any of you lack
wisdon, let him ask of God that giveth to all
men liberally, and unbraideth not, and it shall
be given him. Jam. i. 5.
But if wives and other private Christians
be thus obliged, how much more the ministers
of the word Oh! that we could remember
our deep obligations to holiness of life . It
has been rightly said, Either teach none, or
let your life teach too. Cohelleth, anima con-
cionatria, the preaching soul, must the preach-
er be (Eccl. i. 1), the word of life springing
from inward affection, and then, vita concion-
atria, the preaching life. The Sunday's
sermon lasts but an hour or two, but holi-
i. of life is a continued sermon all the week
Ong.
They also without the word may be won.]
The conversion of a soul is an inestimable
gain ; it is a high trading and design to go
about it. Oh ! the precious soul, but how
undervalued by most ! Will we believe him
who knew well the price of it, for he paid
it, that the whole visible world is not worth
One soul, the gaining of it all can not counter-
vail that loss? Matt. xvi. 26. This, wives,
and husbands, and parents, and friends, if
themselves converted, would consider serious-
ly, and apply themselves to pray much that
their unconverted relations, in nature dead,
may be enlivened, and that they may receive
them from death; and they would esteem
nothing, rest in no natural content or gain
without that, at least, without using incessant
diligence in seeking it, and their utmost skill
and pains. But above all, this is the peculiar
task of ministers, as the apostle often repeats
it of himself, that unto the Jews he became as
a Jew, that he might gain the Jews, &c. 1
Cor. ix. All gains on earth are base in com-
Parison with this. Me malê amando, me per-
didi, et te solum quarendo et puré amando,
meet te pariter inveni : By loving self amiss,
myself. I lost; by seeking thee, and singly,
sincerely loying thee, at once myself and thee
I found.—(Thomas à Kempis.) A soul con-
verted is gained to itself, gained to the pastor,
or friend, or wife, or husband, who sought it,
and gained to Jesus Christ; added to his
treasury, who thought not his own precious
blood too dear to lay out for this gain.
WER. 2. While they behold your chaste conversation
coupled with fear.
As all graces are connected in their own na-
ture, so it is altogether necessary that they be
found in connexion for the end here propound-
ed, the conversion of those who are strangers
to religion, and possessed with false notions
of it, and prejudices against it. It is not the
regularity of some particular actions, nor the
observance of some duties, that will serve;
but it is an even uniform frame of life that
the apostle here teaches Christian wives, par-
ticularly in reference to this end, the gaining
or conversion of unbelieving husbands. And
this we have both in that word, their conver-
sation, which signifies the whole course and
tract of their lives, and in the particular speci-
fying of the several duties proper to that re-
lation and state of life. 1. Subjection. 2. Chas-
tity. 3. Fear. 4. Modesty in outward orna-
ments. 5. The inward ornaments of meek-
ness and quietness of spirit.
The combination of these things makes up
such a wife, and the exercise of them through-
out her life, makes up such a conversation,
as adorns and commends the religion she pro-
fesses, and is a fit, and may be a successful,
means of converting the husband who as yet
professes it not.
Chaste conversation.] It is the proper char-
acter of a Christian, to study purity in all
things, as the word (áyviv) in its extent signi-
fies. Let the world turn that to a reproach,
call them as you will, this is sure, that none
have less fancy and presumption of purity,
than those who have most desire of it. But
the particular pureness here intended is, as it
is rendered, that of chastity, as the word is
often taken ; it being a grace that peculiarly
deserves that name, as the sins contrary to it
are usually and deservedly called uncleanness.
It is the pure whiteness of the soul to be chaste,
to abhor and disdain the swinish puddle of
lust, than which there is nothing that doth
more debase the excellent soul; nothing that
more evidently draws it down below itself,
and makes it truly brutish. The three kinds
of chastity—virginal, conjugal, and vidual,
are all of them acceptable to God, and suita-
ble to the profession of a Christian : there-
fore, in general only, whatsoever be our con-
dition in life, let us in that way conform to it,
and follow the apostle's rule, possessing these
our earthen vessels, our bodies, in holiness and
honor (by which is there expressed this same
chastity); and this we shall do if we rightly
remember our calling as Christians, in what
WER. 3, 4.]
205
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
sort of life soever; as there he tells us, God
hath not called us to uncleanness, but unto
holiness. 1 Thess. iv. 7.
With fear.] Either a reverential respect
to their husbands, or, the fear of God;
whence flows best both that and all other
observance, whether of conjugal or any other
Christian duties. Be not presumptuous, as
some, because you are chaste, but so contem-
per your conversation with a religious fear
of God, that you dare not take liberty to of.
fend him in any other thing, and, according
to his institution, with a reverential fear of
your husbands, shunning to offend them.
But, possibly, this fear doth particularly re-
late to the other duty with which it was
joined, Chaste conversation with fear ; fear-
ing the least stain of chastity, or the very
least appearance of anything not suiting with
it. It is a delicate timorous grace, afraid of
the least air, or shadow of anything that hath
but a resemblance of wronging it, in carriage,
or speech, or apparel, as follows in the third
and fourth verses.
WER. 3. Whose adorning, let it not be that outward
adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of
gold, or of putting on of apparel;
VER. 4. But let it be the hidden man of the heart, in
that which is not corruptible, even the ornament
of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of
God of great price.
THAT nothing may be wanting to the qual-
ifying of a Christian wife, she is taught how
to dress herself: supposing a general desire,
but especially in that sex, of ornament and
comeliness: the sex which began first our
engagement to the necessity of clothing, hav-
ing still a peculiar propensity to be curious in
that, to improve the necessity to an advantage.
The direction here given, corrects the mis-
placing of this diligence, and addresses it
right: Let it not be of the outward man. in
plaiting, &c.
Our perverse, crooked hearts turn all we
use into disorder. Those two necessities of
our life, food and raiment, how few know
the right measure and bounds of them Un-
less poverty be our carver and cut us short,
who, almost, is there, that is not bent to
something excessive Far more are beholden
to the lowliness of their estate, than to the
iowliness of their mind, for sobriety in these
things; and yet, some will not be so bounded
neither, but will profusely lavish out upon
trifles, to the sensible prejudice of their es-
tate.
It is not my purpose, nor do I think it very
needful, to debate many particulars of apparel
and ornament of the body, their lawfulness
or unlawfulness: only,
First, It is out of doubt, that though cloth-
ing was first drawn on by necessity, yet, all
regard of comeliness and ornament in ap-
parel, is not unlawful; nor doth the apostle's
expression here, rightly considered, fasten
that upon the adorning he here speaks of.
He doth no more universally condemn the
use of gold for ornament, than he doth any
other comely raiment, which here he means
by that general word of putting on of ap-
parel ; for his [not] is comparative—not this
adorning, but the ornament of a meek spirit,
that rather, and as being much more comely
and precious; as that known expression, I
will have mercy and not sacrifice.
Secondly, According to the different place
and quality of persons, there may be a differ-
ence in this : thus, the robes of judges and
princes are not only for personal ornament,
but because there is in them, especially for
vulgar eyes which seldom look deeper than
the outside of things, there is, I say, in that
apparel a representation of authority or maj-
esty, which befits their place ; and besides
this, other persons who are not in public
place, men or women (who are here particu-
larly directed), yet may have in this some
mark of their rank; and in persons other-
wise little distant, some allowance may be
made for the habits and breeding of some be-
yond others, or the quality of their society,
and those with whom they converse.
Thirdly, It is not impossible that there
may be in some an affected pride in the
meanness of apparel, and in others, under ei-
ther neat or rich attire, a very humble unaf-
fected mind; using it upon some of the afore-
mentioned engagements, or such like, and
yet the heart not at all upon it. Magnus qui
fictilibus utitur, tanquam argento, nec ille mi-
nor qui argento tanguam fictilibus, says Sen-
eca: Great is he who enjoys his earthen-
ware as if it were plate, and not less great is
the man to whom all his plate is no more
than earthernware.
Fourthly, It is as sure as any of these, that
real excess and vanity in apparel will creep
in, and will always willingly convey itself
under the cloak of some of these honest and
lawful considerations. This is a prime piece
of our heart's deceit, not only to hold out fair
pretences to others, but to put the trick upon
ourselves, to make ourselves believe we are
right and single-minded in those things where-
in we are directly serving our lusts, and feed-
ing our own vanity. sº
Fifthly, To a sincere and humble Chris-
tian, very little either dispute or discourse
concerning this will be needful. A tender
conscience, and a heart purified from Vanity
and weaned from the world, will be sure to
regulate this, and all other things of this na-
ture, after the safest manner, and will be
wary, 1, of lightness and fantastic garb in ap-
parel, which is the very bush or sign hanging
out, that tells a vain mind lodges within
and, 2, of excessive costliness, which both
argues and feeds the pride of the heart, and
defrauds, if not others of their dues, yet, the
poor of thy charity, which, in God's sight, is
a due debt too. Far more comfort shalt thou
have on thy deathbed, to remember that such
a time, instead of putting, lace on my own
clothes, I helped a naked back to clothing, I
206
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
*
abated somewhat of my former superfluities,
to supply the poor's necessities—far sweeter
will this be, than to remember that I could
needlessly cast away many pounds to serve
my pride, rather than give a penny to relieve
the poor.
As conscientious Christians will not exceed
in the thing itself, so, in as far as they use
lawful ornament and comeliness, they will
do it without bestowing much either of dili-
gence or delight on the business.
To have the mind taken and pleased with
such things, is so foolish and childish a thing,
that if most might not find it in themselves,
they would wonder at it in many others, of
years and common sense. Non his pueri, sed
semper: not twice children, but always.
And yet, truly, it is a disease that few escape.
It is strange upon how poor things men and
women will be vain, and think themselves
somebody; not only upon some comeliness
in their face or feature, which though poor,
is yet a part of themselves, but of things mere-
ly without them ; that they are well lodged,
or well mounted, or well apparelled, either
richly, or well in fashion. Light, empty
minds are, like bladders, blown up with any-
thing. And they who perceive not this in
themselves, are the most drowned in it; but
such as have found it out, and abhor their
own follies, are still hunting and following
these in themselves, to beat them out of their
hearts and to shame them from such foppe-
ries. The soul fallen from God, hath lost its
true worth and beauty: and therefore it base-
ly descends to these mean things, to serve
and dress the body, and take share with it of
its unworthy borrowed ornaments, while it
hath lost and forgotten God, and seeks not
after him, knows not that he alone is the
beauty and ornament of the soul (Jer. ii. 32),
his Spirit and the graces of it its rich attire,
as is here particularly specified in one excel-
lent grace, and it holds true in the rest.
The apostle doth indeed expressly, on pur-
pose, check and forbid vanity and excess in
apparel, and excessive delight in lawful de-
corum, but his prime end is to recommend
this other ornament of the soul, the hidden
man of the heart.
It is the thing the best philosophy aimed
at, as some of their wisest men do express it,
to reduce men, as much as may be, from their
body to their soul; but this is the thing that
true religion alone doth effectually and thor-
oughly, calling them off from the pampering
and feeding of a morsel for the worms, to the
nourishing of that immortal being infused
into it, and directing them to the proper nour-
ishment of souls, the Bread that came down
from heaven. John vi. 27.
So here, the apostle "pulls off from Chris-
tian women their vain outside ornaments:
but is not this a wrong, to spoil all their
dressing and fineness? No, he doth this, only
to send them to a better wardrobe: there is
much profit in the change.
All the gold and other riches of the temple,
prefigured the excellent graces of Christians:
of Christ, indeed, first, as having all fulness
in himself, and as furnishing it to them, but
secondarily, of Christians, as the living tem-
ples of God. So, Psalm xlv. 13, the church
is all glorious, but it is within. And the em-
broidery, the variety of graces, the lively col-
ors of other graces, shine best on the dark
ground of humility. Christ delights to give
much ornament to his church, commends
what she hath, and adds more. Thy neck is
comely with chains: we will make the borders
of gold. Cant, i. 10, 11.
f. particular grace the apostle recom-
mends is particularly suitable to his subject
in hand, the conjugal duty of wives; nothing
so much adorning their whole carriage as this
meekness and quietness of spirit. But it is,
withal, the comeliness of every Christian in
every estate. It is not a woman's garment
or ornament, improper for men. There is
somewhat (as I may say) of a particular cut
or fashion of it for wives toward their hus-
bands, and in their domestic affairs; but men,
all men ought to wear of the same stuff, yea,
if I may so speak, of the same piece, for it is
in all one and the same spirit, and fits the
stoutest and greatest commanders. Moses
was a great general, and yet not less great in
this virtue, the meekest man on earth.
Nothing is more uncomely in a wife than
an uncomposed, turbulent spirit, that is put
out of frame with every trifle, and inventive
of false causes of disquietness and fretting to
itself. And so in a husband, and in all, an
unquiet, passionate mind lays itself naked,
and discovers its own deformity to all. The
greatest part of things that vex us, do so, not
from their own nature or weight, but from
the unsettledness of our minds. Multa nos .
offendunt qua, non ladunt : Many things of
fend us which do not hurt us. How comely
is it to see a composed, firm mind and car-
riage, that is not lightly moved
I urge not a stoical stupidity, but that in
things which deserve sharp reproof, the mind
keep in its own station and seat still, not
shaken out of itself, as the most are ; that the
tongue utter not unseemly, rash words, nor
the hand act anything that discovers the mind
hath lost its command for the time. But tru-
ly, the most know so ill how to use just anger
upon just cause, that it is easier, and the safer
extreme, not to be angry, but still calm and
serene, as the upper region; not as the place
of continual tempest and storms, as the most
are. Let it pass for a kind of sheepishness to
be meek; it is a likeness to Him who was as
a sheep before the shearers, not opening his
mouth; it is a portion of his spirit.
The apostle commends his exchange of or-
naments, by two things. 1. This is incorrup-
tible, and therefore fits an incorruptible soul.
Your varieties of jewels and rich apparel are
perishing things; you shall one day see a
heap made of all, and that all on a flame.
WER. 5–7.]
207
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
And in reference to yourselves, they perish
sooner. When death strips you of your near-
est garment, your flesh, all the others, which
were but loose upper garments above it, must
off too: it gets, indeed, a covering to the
grave, but the soul is left stark naked, if no
other clothing be provided for it, for the body
was but borrowed; then it is made bare of all.
But spiritual ornaments, and this of humility,
and meekness among them, remain and are
incorruptible ; they neither wear out, nor go
out of fashion, but are still the better for the
wearing, and shall last eternity, and shine
there in full lustre.
And, 2. Because the opinion of others is
much regarded in matter of apparel, and it is
mostly in respect to this that we use orna-
ment in it, he tells us of the account in which
this is held : men think it poor and mean,
nothing more exposed to contempt than the
#. of meekness, it is mere folly with men—
that is no matter; this overweighs all their
disesteem, It is with God of great price ; and
things are indeed as he values them, and no
otherwise. Though it be not the country
fashion, yet it is the fashion at court, yea, it
is the King's own fashion, Matthew xi. 29:
Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly of
heart. Some who are court-bred, will send
for the masters of fashions; though they live
not in the court, and though the peasants
think them strange dresses, yet they regard
not that, but use them as finest and best.
Care not what the world say ; you are not to
stay long with them. Desire to have both
fashions and stuffs from court, from heaven,
this spirit of meekness, and it shall be sent
you. It is never right in anything with us,
till we attain to this, to tread on the opinion
of men, and eye nothing but God's approba-
tlon.
VER, 5. For after this manner in the old time, the
holy Women also who trusted in God, adorned
themselves ;
VER. 6. Even as Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him
lord, whose daughters ye are as long as ye do
well, and are not afraid with any amazement.
THE apostle enforces his doctrine by exam-
ple, the most compendious way of teaching.
Hence, the right way to use the Scriptures is,
to regulate our manners by them ; as by their
precepts, so by their examples. And for this
end it is that a great part of the Bible is his-
torical. There is not in the saints a transmi-
gration of souls, but there is, so to speak, a
Oneness of soul, they being in all ages parta-
kers of the selfsame spirit. Hence, pious and
obedient wives are here called the daughters
of Sarah. Such women are here designated
aş, 1. Holy ; 2. Believing ; 3. Firm and res-
ºlute ; , not afraid with any amazement.
Though by nature they are fearful, yet they
are rendered of undaunted spirits by a holy,
clean, and pure conscience. Believing wives
who fear God, are not terrified; their minds
are established in a due obedience to God,
and also toward their husbands,
VER. 7. Likewise, ye husbands, dwell with them, ac-
cording to knowledge, giving honor unto the wife,
as unto the weaker vessel, and as being heirs to.
gether of the grace of life; that your prayers be
not hindered.
YoUR wives are subject to you, but you
likewise are subject to this word, by which
all ought, in all stations, to be directed, and
by which, however, all shall one day be
judged. And are you alike subject as they
[buota's]: parents as children, masters as Ser-
Vants, and kings as their subjects; all hold
of a superior, and it is high treason against
the majesty of God, for any, in any place of
command, to dream of an unbounded absolute
authority, in opposition to him.
A spirit of prudence, or knowledge, particu-
larly suitable and relating to this subject, is
required as the light and rule by which the
husband's whole economy and carriage is to
be guided. It is required that he endeavor
after that civil prudence for the ordering of
his affairs which tends to the good of his
family: but chiefly a pious, religious pru-
dence, for regulating his mind and carriage
as a Christian husband; that he study the
rule of scripture in this particular, which
many do not, neither advising with it what
they should do, nor laying it, by reflection,
upon their past actions, examining by it what
they have done. Now this is the great fault
in all practical things: most know something
of them, but inadvertency and inconsideration,
our not ordering our ways by that light, is the
thing that spoils all.
Knowledge is required in the wife, but more
eminently in the husband, as the head, the
proper seat of knowledge. It is possible
that the wife may sometimes have the advan-
tage of knowledge, either natural wit and
judgment, or a great measure of understand-
ing of spiritual things; but this still holds,
that the husband is bound to improve the
measure both of natural and of spiritual gifts,
that he hath, or can attain to, and to apply
them usefully to the ordering of his conjugal
| carriage, and that he understand himself
obliged somewhat the more, in the very no-
tion of a husband, both to seek after and to
use that prudence which is peculiarly required
for his due deportment. And a Christian
wife, who is more largely endowed, yet will
show all due respect to the measure of wis-
dom, though it be less, which is bestowed
upon her husband.
Dwell with them.] . This, indeed, implies
and supposes their abiding with their wives,
so far as their calling and lawful affairs per-
mit ; but I conceive that what it expressly
means is, all the conversation and duties of
that estate ; that they so behave themselves
in dwelling with them as becomes men of
knowledge, wise and prudent husbands;–
which returns them usually the gain of the
full reverence and respect due to them, of
which they rob and divest themselves, who
are either of a foolish or trifling carriage, or
of too austere and rigid a conversation.
208
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
Giving honor unto the wife.] This, I con-
ceive, is not, as some take it, convenient main-
tenance, though that is a requisite duty too,
and may be taken in under this word; but it
seems to be chiefly a due conjugal esteem of
them, and respect to them, the husband not
vilifying and despising them, which will be
apt to grieve and exasperate them ; not dis-
closing the weaknesses of the wife to others,
nor observing them too narrowly himself, but
hiding them both from others’ and his own
eyes by love; not seeing them further than
love itself requires; that is, to the wise rec-
tifying of them by mild advices and admoni-
tions that flow from love. And to this the
reasons, indeed, suit well. It seems at first
a little incongruous, honor because weaker,
but not when we consider the kind of honor ;
not of reverence as superior, for that is their
part, but of esteem and respect, without which
indeed love can not consist, for we can not
love that which we do not in some good meas-
ure esteem. And care should be taken that
they be not contemned and slighted, even be-
cause they are weaker; for of all injuries,
contempt is one of the most smarting and
sensible, especially to weak persons, who feel
most exactly the least touches of this. Omne
infirmum naturd querelum : Every weak being
is naturally peevish ; whereas greater spirits
are a little harder against opinion, and more
indifferent for it. Some wives may, indeed,
be of a stronger mind and judgment than
their husbands, yet these rules respect the
general condition of the sexes, and speak of
the females as ordinarily weaker.
Again, love, which is ever to be supposed
one article, and the main one (for nothing, in-
deed, can be right where that supposition
As ºeing heirs together of the grace of
ºl. is that which most strongly binds
all these duties on the hearts of husbands
and wives, and most strongly indeed binds
their hearts together, and makes them one.
If each be reconciled unto God in Christ,
and so an heir of life, and one with God,
then are they truly one in God with each
other; and that is the surest and sweetest
union that can be. Natural love hath risen
very high in some husbands and wives; but
the highest of it falls very far short of that
which holds in God. Hearts concentrating
in him, are most and excellently one. Thai
love which is cemented by youth and beauty,
when these moulder and decay, as soon they
do, fades too. That is somewhat purer, and
so more lasting, which holds in a natural or
moral harmony of minds; yet, these likewise
may alter and change by some great acci-
dent. But the most refined, most spiritual,
and most indissoluble, is that which is knit
with the highest and purest Spirit. And the
ignorance or disregard of this, is the great
cause of so much bitterness, or so little true
sweetness, in the life of most married per-
sons; because God is left out, because they
meet not as one in him.
Heirs together.] Loath will they be to de-
spise one another, who are both bought with
the precious blood of one Redeemer, and
loath to grieve one another. Being in him
brought into peace with God, they will en-
tertain true peace betwixt themselves, and
not suffer anything to disturb it. They have
hopes to meet, one day, where is nothing but
perfect concord and peace; they will there-
fore live as heirs of that life here, and make
their present estate as like to heaven as they
proves false), love, I say, supposed, this rea- can, and so, a pledge and evidence of their
son is very enforcing, that the weaker the
| title to that inheritance of peace which is
vessels be, the more tenderly they should be there laid up for them. And they will not
used ; and the more a prudent passing by of fail to put one another often in mind of those
frailties is needful, there love will study it, hopes and that inheritance, and mutually to
and bestow it the more. Yea, this tie, you
know, makes two one; and that which is a
advance and further each other toward it.
Where this is not the case, it is to little pur-
part of ourselves, the more it needs in that pose to speak of other rules. Where neither
respect, the more comeliness we put upon it,
as the Apostle St. Paul tells us, 1 Cor. xii. 23.
And this further may be considered, that there
is a mutual need of this honoring which con-
sists in not despising and in covering of frail-
ties, as is even implied in this, that the wo-
man is not called simply weak, but the weak-
er, and the husband, who is generally, by
nature's advantage, or should be, the stronger,
yet is weak too; for both are vessels of earth,
and therefore frail; both polluted with sin,
and therefore subject to a multitude of sinful
follies and frailties. But as the particular
frailty of their nature pleads on behalf of
women for that honor, so, the other reason
added, is taken, not from their particular dis-
advantage, but from their common privilege
and advantage of grace as Christians, that the
Christian husband and wife are equally co-
heirs of the same grace of life.
party aspires to this heirship, live they other-
wise as they will, there is one common in-
heritance abiding them, one inheritance of
everlasting flames; and, as they do increase
the sin and guiltiness of one another by their
irreligious conversation, so that which some
of them do wickedly here, upon no great
cause, they shall have full cause for doing
there; cause to curse the time of their com-
ing together, and that shall be a piece of
their exercise for ever. But happy those
persons, in any society of marriage or friend-
ship, who converse together, as , those that
shall live eternally together in glory. This
indeed is the sum of all duties.
Life.] A sweet word, but sweetest of all
in this sense! That life above, is indeed
alone worthy the name, and this we have
here, in comparison, let it not be called life,
but a continual dying, an incessant journey
WER. 8.]
209
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
toward the grave. If you reckon years, it is
Now the breach of conjugal love, the jars
but a short moment to him that attains the and contentions of husband and wife, do, out
fullest old age ; but reckon miseries and sor-
rows, it is long to him that dies young. Oh
that this only blessed life were more known,
and then it would be more desired.
Grace.] This is the tenor of this heirship,
free grace : this life is a free gift. Rom. vi.
ult. No life so spotless, either in marriage
or virginity, as to lay claim to this life upon
other terms. If we consider but a little,
what it is, and what we are, this will be
quickly out of question with us; and we shall
be most gladly content to hold it thus, by
deed of gift, and shall admire and extol that
grace which bestows it.
That your prayers be not hindered.] He
supposes in Christians the necessary and fre-
quent use of this; takes it for granted, that
the heirs of life can not live without prayer.
This is the proper breathing and language
of these heirs, none of whom are dumb ;
they can all speak. These heirs, if they be
alone, they pray alone; if heirs together, and
living together, they pray together. Can the
husband and wife have that love, wisdom,
and meekness, which may make their life
happy, and that blessing which may make
their affairs successful, while they neglect
God, the only giver of these and all good
things 2 You think these needless motives,
but you can not think how it would sweeten
your converse if it were used: it is prayer
that sanctifies, seasons, and blesses all. And
it is not enough that they pray when with
the family, but even husband and wife to-
gether by themselves, and also, with their
children ; that they, especially the mother,
as being most with them in their childhood,
when they begin to be capable, may draw
them apart, and offer them to God, often
praying with them, and instructing them in
their youth ; for they are pliable while young,
as glass is when hot, but after, will sooner
break than bend.
But above all, prayer is necessary as they
are heirs of heaven, often sending up their
desires thither. You that are not much in
prayer, appear as if you look for no more
than what you have here. If you had an
inheritance and treasure above, would not
your hearts delight to be there ? Thus, the
heart of a Christian is in the constant frame
of it, but after a special manner prayer raises
the soul above the world, and sets it in heav-
en; it is its near access unto God, and deal-
ing with him, specially about those affairs
which concern that inheritance. Now in
this lies a great part of the comfort a Chris-
tian can have here; and the apostle knew
this, that he would gain anything at their
hands, which he pressed by this argument,
that otherwise they would be hindered in
their prayers. He knew that they who are
acquainted with prayer, find such unspeaka-
ble sweetness in it, that they will rather do
anything than be prejudiced in that.
of doubt, so leaven and imbitter their spirits,
that they are exceeding unfit for prayer,
which is the sweet harmony of the soul in
God’s ears: and when the soul is so far out
of tune as those distempers make it, he can
not but perceive it, whose ear is the most ex-
act of all, for he made and tuned the ear,
and is the fountain of harmony. It cuts the
sinews and strength of prayer, makes breach-
es and gaps, as wounds at which the spirits
fly out, as the cutting of a vein, by which,
as they speak, it bleeds to death. When the
soul is calm and composed, it may behold
the face of God shining on it. And those
who pray together, should not only have
hearts in tune within themselves in their
own frame, but tuned together; especially
husband and wife, who are one, they should
have hearts consorted and sweetly tuned to
each other for prayer. So the word is (tāv
avppovija.goo w.) Matt. xviii. 19.
And it is true, in the general, that all un-
wary walking in Christians wrongs their
communion with Heaven, and casts a damp
upon their prayers, so as to clog the wings
of it. These two mutually help one another,
prayer and holy conversation : the more ex-
actly we walk, the more fit are we for
prayer: and the more we pray, the more are
we enabled to walk exactly ; and it is a
happy life to find the correspondence of these
two, calling on the Lord, and departing from
iniquity. 1 Tim. ii. 19. Therefore, that you
may pray much, live holily; and, that you
may live holily, be much in prayer. Surely
such are the heirs of glory, and this is their
way to it.
VER. 8. Finally, be ye all of one mind, having com-
passion one of another; love as brethren, be piti-
ful, be courteous.
HERE the particular rules the apostle gives
to several relations, fall in again to the main
current of his general exhortation, which
concerns us all as Christians. The return of
his discourse to this universality, is expressed
in that finally, and the universality of these
duties, in all. It is neither possible nor con-
venient to descend to every particular; but
there is supposed in a Christian an ingenuous
and prudent spirit, to adapt those general
rules to his particular actions and conversa-
tion ; squaring by them beforehand, and ex-
amining by them after. And yet therein the
most fail. Men hear these as general dis-
courses, and let them pass so; they apply
them not, or, if they do, it is readily to some
other person. But they are addressed to all,
that each one Inay regulate himself by them;
and so these divine truths are like a well-
drawn picture, which looks particularly upon
every one among the great multitude that
look upon it. And this one verse hath a
cluster of five Christian graces or virtues.
That which is in the middle, as the stalk or
root of the rest, love and the others growing
27
210
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
out of it, two on each side, unanimity and
sympathy on the one, and pity and courtesy
on the other. But we shall take them as
they lie.
Of one mind.] This doth not only mean
union in judgment, but it extends likewise to
affection and action; especially in so far as
they relate to, and depend upon the other.
And so, I conceive, it comprehends, in its full
latitude a harmony and agreement of minds,
and affections, and carriage in Christians, as
making up one body, and a serious study of
preserving and increasing that agreement in
all things, but especially in spiritual things,
in which their communion doth primely con-
sist. And because in this, the consent of
their judgments in matters of religion is a
prime point, therefore we will consider that
a little more particularly.
And first, What it is not.
1. It is not a careless indifferency concern-
ing those things. Not to be troubled about
them at all, nor to make any judgment con-
cerning them, this is not a loving agreement,
arising from Oneness of spirit, but a dead stu-
pidity, arguing a total spiritlessness. As the
agreement of a number of dead bodies to-
gether, which indeed do not strive and con-
test, that is, they move not at all, because
they live not; so that concord in things of
religion, which is a not considering them,
nor acting of the mind about them, is the
fruit and sign either of gross ignorance, or of
irreligion. They who are wholly ignorant of
spiritual things, are content you determine
and impose upon them what you will ; as in
the dark, there is no difference nor choice of
colors, they are all one. But, 2, which is
worse, in some this peaceableness about reli-
gion arises from a universal unbelief and dis-
affection ; and that sometimes comes of the
much search and knowledge of debates and
eontroversies in religion. Men having so
many disputes about religion in their heads,
and no life of religion in their hearts, fall
into a conceit that all is but juggling, and
that the easiest way is, to believe nothing;
and these agree with any, or rather with
none. Sometimes it is from a profane super-
cilious disdain of all these things; and many
there be among these of Gallio's temper, who
care for none of these things, and who ac-
count all questions in religion, as he did, but
matter of words and names. And by this all
religions may agree together. But that were
not a natural union produced by the active
heat of the spirit, but a confusion rather, ari-
sing from the want of it; not a knitting to-
gether, but a freezing together, as cold con-
gregates all bodies, how heterogeneous so-
ever, sticks, stones, and water; but heat
makes first a separation of different things,
and then unites those of the same nature.
And to one or other of these two is reduci-
ble much of the common quietness of people's
minds about religion. All that implicit Ro-
mish agreement which they boast of, what is
it, but a brutish ignorance of spiritual things,
authorized and recommended for that very
purpose ? And among the learned of them,
there are as many idle differences and dis-
putes as among any. It is an easy way, in-
deed, to agree if all will put out their eyes,
and follow the blind guiding of their judge
of controversies. This is that Távaopov påppakov,
their great device for peace, to let the pope
determine all. If all will resolve to be coz-
ened by him, he will agree them all. As if
the consciences of men should only find peace
by being led by the nose at one man's pleas-
ure | A way the apostle Paul clearly renoun-
ces: Not for that we have dominion over your
faith, but are helpers of your joy ; for by
faith ye stand. 2 Cor. i. 24.
And though we have escaped this, yet
much of our common union of minds, I fear,
proceeds from no other than the afore-men-
tioned causes, want of knowledge, and want
of affection to religion. You that boast you
live conformably to the appointments of the
church, and that no one hears of your noise,
we may thank the ignorance of your minds
for that kind of quietness. But the unanimity
here required, is another thing ; and before I
unfold it, I shall premise this—That although
it be very difficult, and it may be impossible,
to determine what things are alone funda-
mental in religion, under the notion of differ-
ence, intended by that word, yet it is un-
doubted that there be some truths more ab-
solutely necessary, and therefore accordingly
more clearly revealed than some others;
there are péyaxa roi vápov, great things of the
law, and so of the gospel. And though no
part of Divine truth once fully cleared ought
to be slighted, yet there are things that may
be true, and still are but of less importance
and of less evidence than others; and this
difference is wisely to be considered by Chris-
tians, for the interest of this agreement of
minds here recommended. And concerning
it we may safely conclude,
1. That Christians Ought to have a clear
and unanimous belief of the mysteries and
principles of faith ; to agree in those without
controversy. 2. They ought to be diligent
in the research of truth in all things that con-
cern faith and religion ; and withal to use all
due means for the fullest consent and agree-
ment in them all that possibly can be attain-
ed. 3. Perfect and universal consent in all,
after all industry bestowed on it, for anything
we know, is not here attainable, neither be-
tween all churches, nor all persons in one
and the same church ; and therefore, though
church-meetings and synods, as the fittest
and most effectual way to this unity, should
endeavor to bring the church to the fullest
agreement that may be, yet they should be-
ware lest the straining it too high in all
things rather break it, and an over-diligence
in appointing uniformities remove them fur-
ther from it. Leaving a latitude and indif.
ſerency in things capable of it, is often a
VER. 8.]
211
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
;
stronger preserver of peace and unity. But
this by the way. We will rather give some
few rules that may be of use to every par-
ticular Christian, toward this common Chris-
tian good of unity of mind.
1st, Beware of two extremes, which often
cause divisions, captivity to custom on the
one hand, and affectation of novelty on the
other.
2dly, Labor for a staid mind, that will not
be tossed with every wind of doctrine, or ap-
pearance of reason, as some who, like Vanes,
are easily blown to any side with mistakes
of the Scriptures, either arising in their own
minds or suggested by others.
3dly, In unclear and doubtful things be
not pertinacious, as the weakest minds are
readiest to be upon seeming reason, which,
when tried, will possibly fall to nothing; yet
they are most assured, and can not suffer a
different thought in any from their own.
There is naturally this popeness in every
man's mind, and most, I say, in the shallow-
est; a kind of fancied infallibility in them-
selves, which makes them contentious (con-
trary to the apostle's rule, Phil. ii. 3, Let
nothing be done through strife or vain glory),
and as earnest upon differing in the smallest
punctilio as in a high article of faith.
Stronger spirits are usually more patient of
contradiction, and less violent, especially in
doubtful things; and they who see furthest
are least peremptory in their determinations.
The apostle, in his second epistle to Timothy,
hath a word, the spirit of a sound mind: it
is a good, sound constitution of mind not to
feel every blast, either of seeming reason to
be taken with it, or of cross opinion to be of.
fended at it.
4thly, Join that which is there, the spirit
of love, in this particular: not àt all abāting
affection for every light difference. And this
the most are a § to blame in ; whereas
the abundance of that should rather fill up
the gap of these petty disagreements, that
they do not appear, nor be at all sensibly to
be found. No more disaffection ought to fol-
low this, than the difference of our faces and
complexions, or feature of body, which can
not be found in any two alike in all things.
And these things would be of easier per-
suasion, if we considered, 1. How supple and
flexible a thing human reason is, and there-
fore not lightly to be trusted to, especially in
Divine things; for here, we know but in part.
1 Cor. xiii. 9. 2. The small importance of
Some things that have bred much noise and
dissension in the world, as the apostle speaks
of the tongue, How little a spark, how great
a fire will it kindle ; James iii. 5. And a
great many of those debates which cost men
so much pains and time, are as far from clear
decision as when they began, and are possi-
bly of so little moment, that if they were
ended their profit would not quit the cost.
3. Consider the strength of Christian charity,
which, if it dwelt much in our hearts, would
|
preserve this union of mind amid very many
different thoughts, such as they may be, and
would teach us that excellent lesson the
apostle gives to this purpose, Phil. iii. 15:
Let us therefore, as many as be perfect, be
thus minded; and iſ in anything ye be other-
wise minded, God shall reveal even this unto
jou. Nevertheless, whereto we have already
attained, let us walk by the same rule, let us
mind the same thing. Let us follow our Lord
unanimously in what he hath clearly mani-
fested to us, and given us with one consent to
embrace ; as the spheres, notwithstanding
each one hath its particular motion, yet all
are wheeled about together with the first.
And this leads us to consider the further
extent of this word, to agree in heart and in
conversation, walking by the rule of those
undoubted truths we have received. And in
this I shall recommend these two things to
OUI :
1. In the defence of the truth, as the Lord
shall call us, let us be of one mind, and all as
one man. Satan acts by that maxim, and all
his followers have it, Divide and conywer ;
and therefore let us hold that counter-maxim,
Union invincible.
2. In the practice of that truth, agree as
one. Let your conversation be uniform, by
being squared to that one rule, and in all
spiritual exercises join as one ; be of one
heart and mind. Would not our public wor-
ship, think you, prove much more both com-
fortable and profitable, if our hearts met in it
as one, so we would say of our hearing the
word, as he, Acts x. 33, We are all here
present before God, to hear all things that are
commanded of God —if our prayers ascend-
ed up as one pillar of incense to the throne
of grace ; if they besieged it, as an army, sti-
pato agnine Deum obsidentes, as Tertullian
speaks, all surrounding it together to obtain
favor for ourselves and the church 2 This is
much with God, the consent of hearts peti-
tioning. Fama est junctas fortius ire preces :
It is believed that united prayers ascend with
greater efficacy. So says our Savior, Matt.
xviii. 20: Where two or three are gathered
—not their bodies within the same wall only,
for so they are but so many carcasses tum-
bled together, and the promise of his being
among us is not made to that, for he is the
God of the living and not of the dead, Matt.
xxii. 32; it is the spirit of darkness that abides
among the tombs and graves; but—gathered
in my name, one in that one holy name, writ-
ten upon their hearts, and uniting them, and
so thence expressed in their joint services and
invocations. So he says there of them who
agree upon anything they shall ask (guppºvá-
govow.) if all their hearts present and hold it
up together, if they make one cry or song of
it, that harmony of their hearts shall be
sweet in the Lord's ears, and shall draw a
gracious answer out of his hand: if ye agree,
your joint petitions shall be as it were an ar-
rest or decree that shall stand in heaven: it
212
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
shall be done for them of my Father which is
in heaven. But alas! where is our agree-
ment 3 The greater number of hearts say
nothing, and others speak with such waver-
ing and such a jarring harsh noise, being out
of tune, earthly, too low set, that they spoil
all, and disappoint the answers. Were the
censer filled with those united prayers heav-
enward, it would be filled with fire earth-
Ward against the enemies of the church.
And in your private society seek unanimous-
ly your own and each other's spiritual good ;
not only agreeing in your affairs and civil con-
verse, but having one heart and mind as Chris-
tians. To eat and drink together, if you do
no more, is such society as beasts may have:
to do these in the excess, to eat and drink in-
temperately together, is a society worse than
that of beasts, and below them. To discourse
together of civil business, is to converse as
men ; but the peculiar converse of Christians
in that notion, as born again to immortality,
an unfading inheritance above, is to further
one another toward that, to put one another
in mind of heaven and heavenly things. And
it is strange that men who profess to be Chris-
tians, when they meet, either fill one another's
ears with lies and profane speeches, or with
Vanities and trifles, or, at the best, with the
affairs of the earth, and not a word of those
things that should most possess the heart, and
where the mind should be most set, but are
ready to reproach and taunt any such thing
in others. What! are you ashamed of Christ
and religion ? Why do you profess it then 2
Is there such a thing, think ye, as the com-
inuning of saints 2 If, not, why say you be-
lieve it? It is a truth, think of it as you will.
The public ministry will profit little any where,
Where a people, or some part of them, are not
thus one, and do not live together as of one
mind, and use diligently all due means of
edifying one another in their holy faith. How
much of the primitives Christians' praise and
profit is involved in the the word, They were
together [6,00upačov) with one accord, with one
mind: and so they grew : the Lord added to
the church. Acts ii. 1, 44, 47.
Consider, 1. How the wicked are one in
their ungodly designs and practices. The
scales of Leviathan, as Luther expresses it,
are linked together; shall not the Lord's fol-
lowers be one in him 2 They unite to under-
mine the peace of the church; shall not the
godly join their prayers to countermine them 2
2. There is in the hearts of all the saints
one spirit; how then can they be but one 2
Since they have the same purpose andjourney,
and tend to the same home, why should they
not walk together in that way ? When they
shall arrive there, they shall be fully one, and
of one mind, not a jar nor difference, all their
harps perfectly in tune to that one new song.
Having compassion.] This testifies, that
it is not a bare speculative agreement of opin-
ions that is the badge of Christian unity; for
this may accidentally be, where there is no
further union; but that they are themselves
one, and have one life, in that they feel how
it is one with another. There is a living
sympathy among them, as making up one
body, animated with one spirit: for that is the
reason why the members of the body have
that mutual feeling, even the most remote and
distant, and the most excellent with the
meanest. This the apostle urges at large,
Rom. xii. 4, and 1 Cor. xii. 14–17.
And this lively sense is in every living
member of the body of Christ toward the
whole, and toward each other particular part.
This makes a Christian rejoice in the welfare
and good of another, as if it were his own,
and feel their griefs and distresses, as if him-
self were really a sharer in them ; for the
word comprehends all feeling together, feel-
ing of joy as well as grief. Hebrews xiii. 3.;
1 Cor. xii. 26. And always, where there is
most of grace and of the spirit of Jesus Christ,
there is most of this sympathy. The Apostle
St. Paul, as he was eminent in all grace, had
a large portion of this. 2 Cor. xi. 29. And
of this ought to be in reference to their out-
ward condition, much more in spiritual things
there should be rejoicing at the increases and
flourishing of grace in others. That base envy
which dwells in the hearts of rotten hypo-
crites, who would have all engrossed to them-
selves, argues that they move not further than
the compass of self; that the pure love of
God, and the sincere love of their brethren
flowing from it, are not in them. But when
the heart can unfeignedly rejoice in the Lord's
bounty to others, and the lustre of grace in
others, far outshining their own, truly it is an
evidence that what grace such a one hath, is
upright and good, and that the law of love is
engraven on his heart. Andwhere that is, there
will be likewise, on the other side, a compas-
sionate tender sense of the infirmities and frail-
ties of their brethren ; whereas some account
it a sign of much advancement and spiritual
proficiency, to be able to sit in judgment upon
the qualifications and actions of others, and
to lavish out severe censures round about
them : to sentence one weak and of poor
abilities, and another proud and lofty, and a
third covetous, &c.; and thus to go on in a
censor-like magisterial strain. But it were
truly an evidence of more grace, not to get
upon the bench to judge them, but to sit down
rather and mourn for them, when they are
manifestly and really faulty, and as for their
ordinary infirmities, to consider and bear them.
These are the characters we find in the Scrip-
tures, of stronger Christians, Rom. xv. 1;
Gal. vi. 1. This holy and humble sympathy
argues indeed a strong Christian. Nil tam
spiritualem virum indicat, quam peccati alieni
tractatio: Nothing truly shows a spiritual
man so much, as the dealing with another
man's sin. Far will he be from the ordinary
way of insulting and trampling upon the
weak, or using rigor and bitterness, even
against some gross falls of a Christian: but
WER. 8.]
213
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
will rather vent his compassion in tears, than
his passion in fiery railings; will bewail the
frailty of man, and our dangerous condition
in this life, amidst so many snares and temp-
tations, and such strong and subtle enemies.
2dly. As this sympathy works toward par-
ticular Christians in their several conditions,
so, by the same reason, it acts, and that more
eminently, toward the church, and the pub-
lic affairs that concern its good. And this, we
find, hath breathed forth from the hearts of the
saints in former times, in so many pathetical
complaints and prayers for Zion. Thus David
in the saddest times, when he might seem
most dispensable to forget other things, and
be wholly taken up with lamenting his own
fall, yet, even there, he leaves not out the
church, Psalm. li. 17: In thy good pleasure,
do good to Zion. And though his heart was
broken aii to pieces, yet the very pieces cry
no less for the building of Jerusalem's wall,
than for the binding up and healing of itself.
And in that czxiid Psalm, which seems to be
the expression of his joy on being exalted to
the throne and sitting peaceably on it, yet he
still thus prays for the peace of Jerusalem.
And the penman of the czXxviiith Psalm,
makes it an execrable oversight to forget Je-
rusalem, or to remember it coldly or second-
arily : no less will serve him than to prefer
it to his chief joy. Whatsoever else is top or
head of his joy (as the word is), Jerusalem's
welfare shall be its crown, shall be set above
it. And the prophet, whoever it was, that
wrote that ciid Psalm, and in it poured out
that prayer from an afflicted soul, comforts
himself in this, that Zion shall be favored.
My days are like a shadow that declineth, and
I am withered like grass, but it matters not
what becomes of me ; let me languish and
wither away, provided Zion flourish ; though
I feel nothing but pains and troubles, yet,
Thou wilt arise and show mercy to Zion : I
am content: that satisfies me.
But where is now this spirit of high sym-
pathy with the church 2 Surely, if there
were any remains of it in us, it is now a fit
time to exert it. If we be not altogether
dead, Surely we shall be stirred with the
voice of those late strokes of God's hand, and
be driven to more humble and earnest prayer
by it. When will men change their poor,
base grumblings about their private concerns,
Oh! what shall I do? &c., into strong cries
for the church of God, and the public deliv-
erance of all these kingdoms from the raging
sword 2 But vile selfishness undoes us, the
most looking no further. If themselves and
theirs might be secured, how many would
regard little what became of the rest! As
one said, when I am dead let the world be
fired. But the Christian mind is of a larger
sphere, looks not only upon more than itself
in present, but even to after times and ages,
and can rejoice in the good to come, when
itself shall not be here to partake of it: it is
more dilated, and liker unto God, and to our
head, Jesus Christ. The Lord, says the
prophet, Isa. lxiii. 9, in all his people's af.
fliction, was afflicted himself. And Jesus
Christ accounts the sufferings of his body,
the church, his own: Saul, Saul, why perse-
cutest thou me 2 Acts ix. 4. The heel was
trod upon on earth, and the head crieth from
heaven, as sensible of it. And this in all our
evils, especially our spiritual griefs, is a high
point of comfort to us, that our Lord Jesus is
not insensible of them. This emboldens us
to complain ourselves, and to put in our peti-
tions for help to the throne of grace, through
his hand, knowing that when he presents
them, he will speak his own sense of our
condition, and move for us as it were for him-
self, as we have it sweetly expressed, Heb.
iv. 15, 16. Now, as it is our comfort, so it is
Our pattern.
Love as brethren.] Hence springs this
feeling we speak of: love is the cause of
union, and union the cause of sympathy, and
of that unanimity mentioned before. They
who have the same spirit uniting and ani-
mating them, can not but have the same
mind and the same feelings. And this spirit
is derived from that head, Christ, in whom
Christians live, and move, and have their be-
ing, their new and excellent being, and so,
living in him, they love him, and are one in
him : they are brethren, as here the word is ;
their fraternity holds in him. He is the
head of it, the first-born among many breth-
ren, Rom. viii. 29. Men are brethren in two
natural respects, their bodies are of the same
earth, and their souls breathed from the same
God; but this third fraternity which is found-
ed in Christ, is far more excellent and more
firm than the other two; for being one in
him, they have there taken in the other two,
inasmuch as in him is our whole nature: he
is the man Christ Jesus. But to the advan-
tage, and it is an infinite one, of being one in
him, we are united to the divine nature in
him, who is God blessed for ever, Rom. ix. 5;
and this is the highest, certainly, and the
strongest union that can be imagined. Now
this is a great mystery, indeed, as the apos-
tle says, ièph. v. 32, speaking of this same
point, the union of Christ and his church,
whence their union and communion one with
another, who make up that body, the church,
is derived. In Christ every believer is born
of God, is his son; and so, they arewmot only
brethren, one with another, who are so born,
but Christ himself owns them as his breth-
ren; Both he who sanctifies, and they who
are sanctified, are all of one, for which cause
he is not ashamed to call them brethren.
Heb. ii. 11.
Sin broke all to pieces, man from God, and
men from one another. Christ's work in
the world was, union. To make up these
breaches he came down, and began the union
which was his work, in the wonderful union
made in his person that was to work it, ma-
king God and man one. And as the nature
214
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
of man was reconciled, so, by what he per-
formed, the persons of men are united to God.
Faith makes them one with Christ, and he
makes them one with the Father, and hence
results this oneness among themselves; con-
centring and meeting in Jesus Christ, and in
the Father through him, they are made one
together. And that this was his great work,
we may read in his prayer, John xvii., where
it is the burden and main strain, the great re-
quest he so reiterates, That they may be one,
as we are one, ver, 11. A high comparison,
such as man durst not name, but after him
who so warrants us! And again, ver. 21,
That they all may be one, as thou, Father,
art in me, and I in thee, that they also may
be one in us.
So that certainly, where this exists, it is
the ground work of another kind of friend-
ship and love than the world is acquainted
with, or is able to judge of, and hath more
worth in one drachm of it, than all the quint-
essence of civil or natural affection can
amount to. The friendships of the world,
the best of them, are but tied with chains of
glass; but this fraternal love of Christians is
a golden chain, both more precious, and more
strong and lasting ; the others are worthless
and brittle.
The Christian owes and pays the general
charity and good will to all; but peculiar and
intimate friendship he can not have, except
with such as come within the compass of this
fraternal love, which, after a special manner,
flows from God, and returns to him, and
abides in him, and shall remain unto eternity.
Where this love is and abounds, it will
banish far away all those dissensions and bit-
ternesses, and those frivolous mistakings,
which are so frequent among most persons.
It will teach men wisely and gently to ad-
monish one another, where it is needful ; but
further than that, it will pass by many offen-
ces and failings, it will cover a multitude of
sins, and will very much sweeten society,
making it truly profitable; therefore, the
psalmist calls it both good and pleasant, that
brethren dwell together in unity; it perfumes
all, as the precious ointment upon the head
of Aaron. Psalm crxxiii. 2, 3.
But many who are called Christians are not
indeed of this brotherhood, and therefore, no
Wonder they know not what this love means,
but are either of restless, unquiet spirits,
biting and devouring one another, as the
apostle speaks, or, at the best, only civilly
smooth and peaceable in their carriage, rather
scorners than partakers of this spiritual love
and fraternity. These are strangers to Christ,
not brought into acquaintance and union with
him, and therefore void of the life of grace,
and the fruits of it, whereof this is a chief
one. Oh how few among multitudes that
throng in as we do here together, are indeed
partakers of the glorious liberty of the sons
of God, or ambitious of that high and happy
estate
As for you that know these things, and
have a portion in them, who have your com-
munion with the Father, and his Son Jesus
Christ, 1 John i. 3, I beseech you adorn your
holy profession, and testify yourselves the
disciples and the brethren of Jesus Christ, by
this mutual love. Seek to understand better
what it is, and to know it more practically.
Consider that source of love, that love which
the Father hath bestowed upon us, in this,
that we should be called the sons of God,
1 John iii. 1, and so be brethren, and thence
draw more of this sweet stream of love. God
is love, says the same apostle; therefore,
surely, where there is most of God, there is
most of this divine grace, this holy love.
Look upon and study much that infinite love
of God and his son Jesus Christ toward us.
He gave his only begotten Son; the Son gave
himself; he sweetened his bitter cup with
his transcendant love, and this he hath rec-
ommended to us, that even as he loved us, so
should we love one another. John xv. 12. We
know we can not reach this highest pattern ;
that is not meant; but the more we look on
it, the higher we shall reach in this love, and
shall learn some measure of such love on
earth, as is in heaven; and that which so be-
gins here, shall there be perfected.
Be pitiful, be courteous.] The roots of
plants are hidden under ground, so that them-
selves are not seen, but they appear in their
branches, and flowers, and fruits, which
argue there is a root and life in them : thus,
the graces of the Spirit planted in the soul,
though themselves invisible, yet discover
their being and life in the tract of a Chris-
tian's life, his words, and actions, and the
frame of his carriage. Thus faith shows
that it lives, as the Apostle St. James teach-
eth at large, Jam. ii. 14, &c. And thus love
is a grace of so active a nature, that it is still
working, and yet never weary. Your labor
of love, says the apostle, Heb. vi. 10; it la-
bors, but delight makes the hardest labor
sweet and easy. And so proper is action to
it, that all action is null without it. 1 Cor.
xiii. 1–3. Yea, it knits faith and action to-
gether; it is the link that unites them. Faith
worketh, but it is, as the apostle teaches us,
by love. Gal. v. 6. So, then, where this root
is, these fruits will spring from it and dis-
cover it, pity and courtesy. tº
These are of a larger extent in their full
sphere, than the preceding graces; for, from
a general love due to all, they act toward all,
to men, or humanity, in the general; and this
not from a bare natural tenderness, which
softer complexions may have, nor from a pru-
dent moraſ consideration of their possible fal-
ling under the like or greater calamities, but
out of obedience to God, who requires this
mercifulness in all his children, and can not
own them for his, unless in this they resem-
ble him. And it is indeed an evidence of a
truly Christian mind, to have much of this
pity to the miseries of all, being rightly prin-
WER. 8.]
215
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
cipled, and acting after a pious and Christian
manner toward the sick and poor, of what
condition soever; yea, pitying most the spir-
itual misery of ungodly men, their hardness
of heart, and unbelief, and earnestly wishing
their conversion; not repining at the long
suffering of God, as if thou wouldst have the
bridge cut because thou art over, as St. Au-
gustine speaks, but longing rather to see that
long suffering and goodness of God lead them
to repentance, Rom. ii. 4; being grieved to
see men ruining themselves, and diligently
working their own destruction, going in any
way of wickedness (as Solomon speaks of one
particularly), as an oa to the slaughter, or a
fool to the correction of the stocks, Prov. vii.
22. . Certainly, the ungodly man is an object
of the highest pity.
But there is a special debt of this pity to
those whom we love as brethren in our Lord
Jesus: they are most closely linked to us by
a peculiar fraternal love. Their sufferings
and calamities will move the bowels that
have Christian affection within them. Nor
is it an empty, helpless pity, but carries with
it the real communication of our help to our
utmost power... [švarAayzvot.] Not only bowels
that are moved themselves with pity, but that
move the hand to succor; for by this word,
the natural affection of parents, and of the
more tender parent, the mother, is expressed,
who do not idly behold and bemoan their
children being sick or distressed, but provide
all possible help ; their bowels are not only
stirred, but dilated and enlarged toward them.
And if our feeling bowels and helping hand
are due to all, and particularly to the godly,
and we ought to pay this debt in outward
distresses, how much more in their soul-af-
flictions ! the rather, because these are most
heavy in themselves, and least understood,
and therefore least regarded; yea, sometimes
rendered yet heavier by natural friends, pos-
sibly by their bitter scoffs and taunts, or by
their slighting, or, at best, by their misapply-
ing of proper helps and remedies, which, as
unfit medicines, do rather exasperate the dis-
ease; therefore they that do understand, and
can be sensible of that kind of wound, ought
so much the more to be tender and pitiful
toward it, and to deal mercifully and gently
with it. It may be, very weak things some-
times trouble a weak Christian ; but there is
in the spirit of the godly, an humble conde-
Scension learned from Christ, who broke not
the bruised reed, nor quenched the smoking
Q @.
The least difficulties and scruples in a
tender conscience, should not be roughly en-
Countered ; they are as a knot in a silken
thread, and require a gentle and wary hand
to loose them.
Now, this tenderness of bowels and incli-
nation to pity all, especially Christians, and
them especially in their peculiar pressures, is
not a weakness, as some kind of spirits take
it to be; this, even naturally, is a generous
pity in the greatest spirits. Christian pity is
not womanish, yea, it is more than manly, it
is Divine. There is of natural pity most in
the best and most ingenuous natures, but
where it is spiritual, it is a prime lineament
of the image of God; and the more absolute
and disengaged it is, in regard of those tow-
ard whom it acts, the more it is like unto
God; looking upon misery as a sufficient in-
centive of pity and mercy, without the ingre-
dient of any other consideration. It is merely
a vulgar piece of goodness, to be helpful and
bountiful to friends, or to such as are within
appearance of requital; it is a trading kind
of commerce that: but pity and bounty, which
need no inducements but the meeting of a fit
object to work on, where it can expect moth-
ing, save only the privilege of doing good
(which in itself is so sweet), is Godlike in-
deed. He is rich in bounty without any ne-
cessity, yea, or possibility of return from us;
for we have neither anything to confer upon
him, nor hath he need of receiving anything,
who is the Spring of goodness and of being.
And that we may the better understand
him in this, he is pleased to express this his
merciful nature in our notion and language,
by bowels of mercy and pily, Isa. liv. 7, 8, and
the stirring and sounding of them, Hos. xi.
8; by the pity of a father, Psalm ciii. 13, and
by that fa mother, Isa. xlix. 15; as if noth-
ing could be tender and significant enough to
express his compassions. Hence, our redemp-
tion, Isa. lxiii. 9; hence, all our hopes of hap-
piness. The gracious Lord saw his poor crea-
tures undone by sin, and no power in heaven
or on earth able to rescue them, but his own
alone; therefore his pity was moved, and his
hand answers his heart. His own arm brought
salvation ; he sent the deliverer out of Zion,
to turn away iniquity from Jacob. Romans Xi.
26. And in all exigencies of his children, he
is overcome with their complaints, and can
not hold out against their moanings. He may,
as Joseph, seem strange for a while, but can
not act that strangeness long. His heart
moves and sounds to theirs, gives the echo to
their griefs and groans; as they say of two
strings that are perfect unisons, touch the One,
the other also sounds. Surely I have heard
Ephraim bemoaning himself. . . . Is Ephraim
my dear son 2. Jer. xxxi. 18. , Oh! the un-
speakable privilege to have him for Our Fa-
ther, who is the Father of mercies and com-
passions, and those not barren, fruitless pity-
ings, for he is withal the God of all consola-
tions. Do not think that he can shut out a
bleeding soul that comes to him, or refuse to
take, and to bind up, and heal a broken heart
that offers itself to him, puts itself into his
hand, and entreats his help. Doth he require
pity of us, and doth he give it to us, and is it
not infinitely more in himself? All that is in
angels and men, is but an insensible drop to
that Ocean.
Let us then consider, that we are obliged
both to pity, especially toward our Christian
216
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
brethren, and to use all means for their help
within our reach : to have bowels stirred with
the reports of such bloodsheds and cruelties
as come to our ears, and to bestir ourselves
according to our places and power for them.
But surely all are to move this one way for
their help, to run to the Throne of Grace. If
your bowels sound for your brethren, let them
sound that way for them, to represent their
estate to Him who is highest, both in pity and
in power, for he expects to be remembered
by us: he put that office upon his people, to
be his recorders for Zion, and they are trai-
tors to it who neglect the discharge, of that
trust.
Courteous.] The former relates to the af.
flictions of others, this to our whole carriage
with them in any condition. And yet, there
is a particular regard to be paid to it in com-
municating good, in supplying their wants,
or comforting them that are distressed; that
it be not done, or rather, I may say, undone
in doing, with such supercilious roughness,
venting itself either in looks or words, or any
way, as sours it, and destroys the very being
of a benefit, and turns it rather into an injury.
And generally, the whole conversation of men
is made unpleasant by cynical harshness and
disdain.
This courteousness which the apostle rec-
ommends, is contrary to that evil, not only in
the surface and outward behavior: no ; reli-
gion doth not prescribe, nor is satisfied with
such courtesy as goes no deeper than words
and gestures, which sometimes is most con-
trary to that singleness which religion owns.
These are the upper garments of malice; sa-
luting him aloud in the morning, whom they
are undermining all the day. Or sometimes,
though more innocent, yet it may be trouble-
Some, merely by the vain affectation and ex-
cess of it. Even this becomes not a wise
man, much less a Christian. An overstudy
or acting of that, is a token of emptiness, and
is below a solid mind. Though Christians
know such things, and could outdo the stud-
iers of it, yet they (as it indeed deserves) do
despise it. Nor is, it that graver and wiser
way of external plausible deportment, that
answers fully this word ; it is the outer half,
indeed, but the thing is [4.09%ppoiwn] a radical
sweetness in the temper of the mind, that
spreads itself into a man’s words and actions;
and this not merely natural, a gentle, kind
disposition (which is indeed a natural advan-
tage that some have), but this is spiritual, a
new nature descended from heaven, and so, in
its original and kind, far excelling the other;
it supplies it where it is not in nature, and
doth not only increase it where it is, but ele-
vates it above itself, renews it, and sets a
more excellent stamp upon it. . Religion is in
this mistaken sometimes, in that men think
it imprints an unkindly roughness and aus-
terity upon the mind and carriage. It doth
indeed bar and banish all vanity and light-
ness, and all compliance and easy partaking
with sin. Religion strains, and quite breaks
that point of false and injurious courtesy, to
suffer thy brother's soul to run the hazard of
perishing, and to share in his guiltiness, by
not admonishing him after that seasonable,
and prudent, and gentle manner (for that, in-
deed should be studied) which becomes thee
as a Christian, and that particular respective
manner which becomes thy station. These
things rightly qualifying it, it doth no wrong
to good manners and the courtesy here en-
joined, but is truly a part of it, by due admo-
nitions and reproofs to seek to reclaim a sin-
ner; for it were the worst unkindness not to
do it. Thou shalt not hate thy brother, thou
shalt in anywise rebuke thy brother, and not
suffer sin upon him. Levit. xix. 17.
But that which is true lovingness of heart
and carriage, religion doth not only in no way
prejudice, but you see requires it in the rule,
and where it is wrought in the heart, works
and causes it there; fetches out that crooked-
ness and harshness which are otherwise in-
vincible in some humors: Emollit mores, nec
sinit esse feros : Makes the wolf dwell with the
lamb. This Christians should study, and be-
lie the prejudices which the world take up
against the powers of godliness; they should
study to be inwardly so minded, and of such
outward behavior, as becomes that Spirit of
Grace which dwells in them, endeavoring to
gain those that are without, by their kind,
obliging conversation.
In some copies, it is [rarelvöppoves] humble ;
and indeed, as this is excellent in itself, and
a chief characteristic of a Christian, it agrees
well with all those mentioned, and carries
along with it this inward and real, not acted
courteousness. Not to insist on it now, it
gains at all hands with God and with men;
receives much grace from God, and kills envy,
and commands respect and good will from
I\leſ).
Those showers of grace that slide off from
the lofty mountains, rest on the valleys, and
make them fruitful. He giveth grace to the
lowly, loves to bestow it where there is most
room to receive it, and most return of ingenu-
ous and entire praises upon the receipt, and
such is the humble heart. And truly, as
much humility gains much grace, so it grows
by it.
'ſ is one of the world's reproaches against
those who go beyond their size in religion,
that they are proud and self-conceited. Chris-
tians, beware there be nothing in you justify-
ing this. Common knowledge and gifts may
puff up, but grace does not. & º 'º - e.
He whom the Lord loads most with his rich-
est gifts, stoops lowest, as pressed down with
the weight of them. Ille est qui superbire nes-
cit, cui Deus ostendit misericordiam suam.
The free love of God humbles that heart mos,
to which it is most manifested.
And toward men, humility graces all grace
and all gifts; it glorifies God, and teaches
so to do. It is conservatria virtutum, the pre-
WER. 9..]
217
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
server of graces. ... Sometimes it seems to
wrong them by hiding them ; but indeed, it
is their safety. Hezekiah, by a vain showing
of his jewels and treasures, forfeited them all:
Prodendo perdidit.
VER. 9. Not rendering evil for evil, or railing for rail-
ing ; but contrariwise, blessing; knowing that ye
are thereunto called, that ye should inherit a bles-
Sing.
OPPosition helps grace both to more
strength and more lustre. When Christian
charity is not encountered by the world's ma-
lignance, it hath an easier task; but assaulted
and overcoming, it shines the brighter, and
rises the higher; and thus it is when it ren-
ders not evil for evil.
To repay good with evil is, among men,
the top of iniquity; yet this is our universal
guiltiness toward God, he multiplying mer-
cies, and we vying with multiplied sins: as
the Lord complains of Israel, As they were in-
creased, so they sinned. The lowest step of
mutual good among men is, not to be bent to
provoke others with injuries, and, being un-
offended, to offend none. But this, not to re-
pay offences, nor render evil for evil, is a
Christian's rule ; and yet, further, to return
good for evil, and blessing for cursing, is not
only counselled (as some vainly distinguish),
but commanded, Matt. v. 44.
It is true, the most have no ambition for
this degree of goodness; they aspire no fur-
ther than to do or say no evil unprovoked, and
think themselves sufficiently just and equita-
ble, if they keep within that ; but this is
lame, is only half the rule. Thou thinkest
injury obliges thee, or, if not so, yet excuses
thee, to revenge, or at least disobliges thee,
unties thy engagement of wishing and doing
good. But these are all gross practical errors.
For,
1st. The second injury done by way of re-
venge, differs from the first that provoked it
little or nothing, but only in point of time;
and certainly, no one man's sin can procure
privilege to another, to sin in that or the like
kind. If another hath broken the bonds of
his allegiance and obedience to God, and of
charity to thee, yet thou art not the less tied
by the same bonds still.
2dly. By revenge of injuries thou usurpest
upon God's prerogative, who is The Avenger,
as the apostle teaches, Rom. xii. 19. This
doth not forbid either the magistrate's sword
for just punishment of offenders, or the sol-
dier's sword in a just war; but such revenges
as, without authority, or a lawful call, the
pride and perverseness of men do multiply
one against another; in which is involved a
presumptuous contempt of God and his su-
preme authority, or at least, the unbelief and
neglect of it.
3dly. It can not be genuine upright good-
mess that hath its dependance upon the good-
ness of others who are about us: as they say
of the vain-glorious man, his virtue lieth in
the beholder's eye. If thy meekness and
charity be such as lieth in the good and mild
carriage of others toward thee, in their hands
and tongues, thou art not owner of it intrin-
sically. Such quiet and calm, if none provoke
thee, is but an accidental, uncertain cessation
of thy turbulent spirit unstirred; but move it,
and it exerts itself according to its nature,
sending up that mud which lay at the bottom:
whereas true grace doth then most manifest
what it is, when those things which are most
contrary, surround and assault it; it can not
correspond and hold game with injuries and
railings; it hath no faculty for that, for an-
swering evil with evil. A tongue inured to
graciousness, and mild speeches, and bles-
sings, and a heart stored so within, can vent
no other, try it and stir it as you will. A
Christian acts and speaks, not according to
what others are toward him, but according to
what he is through the grace and Spirit of
God in him ; as they say, Quicquid recipitur,
Tecipitur ad modum recipientis : The same
things are differently received, and work
differently, according to the nature and way
of that which receives them. A little spark
blows up one of a sulphureous temper, and
many coals, greater injuries and reproaches,
are quenched and lose their force, being
thrown at another of a cool spirit, as the
original expression is, Prov. xvii. 27.
They who have malice, and bitterness,
and cursings within, though these sleep, it
may be, yet, awake them with the like, and
the provision comes forth out of the abundance
of the heart : give them an ill word, and they
have another, or two for One, in readiness for
you. So, where the soul is furnished with
spiritual blessings, their blessings come forth,
even in answer to reproaches and indignities.
The mouth of the wise is a tree of life, says
Solomon (Prov. x. 11); it can bear no other
fruit, but according to its kind, and the nature
of the root. An honest, spiritual heart, pluck
at it who will, they can pull no other fruit
than such fruit. Love, and meekness lodge
there, and therefore, whosoever knocks, these
make the answer.
Let the world account it a despicable sim-
plicity, seek you still more of that dovelike
spirit, the spirit of meekness and blessing.
It is a poor glory to vie in railings, to contest
in that faculty, or in any kind of vindictive
returns of evil: the most abject creatures have
abundance of that great spirit, as foolish, poor-
spirited persons account it; but it is the glory
of man to pass by a transgression (Prov. xix.
11), it is the noblest victory. And as we
mentioned, the highest example, God, is our
pattern in love and compassions: we are well
warranted to endeavor to be like him in this.
Men esteem much more highly some other
virtues which make more show, and tram-
ple upon these, love, and compassion, and
meekness. But though these violets grow
low, and are of a dark color, yet, they are
of a very sweet and diffusive smell, odori-
ferous graces; and the Lord propounds him-
28
218
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
self our example in them, Matt. v. 44–48. To
love them that hate you, and bless them that
curse you, is to be truly the children of your
Father, your Father which is in heaven. It is a
kind of perfection: v.48: Be ye therefore per-
fect, even as your Father which is in heaven is
perfect. He maketh his sun to rise on the evil
and on the good. Be you like it: howsoever
men behave themselves, keep you your course,
and let your benign influence, as you can, do
good to all. And Jesus Christ sets in himself
these things before us, learn of me, not to
heal the sick, or raise the dead, but learn,
for I am meek and lowly in heart, Matt. xi. 29.
And if you be his followers, that is your way,
as the apostle here addeth, Hereunto are you
called ; and this is the end of it, agreeably to
the way, that you may inherit a blessing.
[Etóóreg ört] Knowing that..] Understand-
ing aright the nature of your holy calling,
and then, considering it wisely, and conform-
ing to it.
Those who have nothing beyond an external
calling and profession of Christianity, are
wholly blind in this point, and do not think
what this imports, A Christian. Could they
be drawn to this, it were much, it were in-
deed all, to know to what they are called, and
to answer to it, to walk like it. But as one
calls a certain sort of lawyers, indoctum doc-
torum genus, we may call the most, an un-
christian kind of Christians. gº
Yea, even those who are really partakers
of this spiritual and effectual call, yet are
often very defective in this ; in viewing their
rule, and laying it to their life, their hearts,
and words, and actions, and squaring by it;
in often asking themselves, suits this my cal-
ling 2 Is this like a Christian Ž It is a main
point in any civil station, for a man to have
a carriage suitable and convenient to his sta-
tion and condition, that his actions become
him : Caput artis est decere quod facias. But
how many incongruities and solecisms do we
commit, forgetting ourselves, who we are, and
what we are called to ; to what is our duty,
and to what, as our portion and inheritance.
And these indeed agree together; we are cal-
led to an undefiled, a holy inheritance, and
therefore, called likewise to be holy in our
way to it; for that contains all. We are
called to a better estate at home, and called
to be fitted for it while we are here ; called
to an inheritance of light, and therefore, called
to walk as children of light ; and so here,
called to blessing as our inheritance, and to
blessing as our duty; for this [els rowro. there-
wnio] relates to both, looks back to the one,
and forward to the other, the way, and the
end, both blessing.
The fulness of this inheritance is reserved
till we come to that land where it lieth ; there
it abideth us; but the earnests of that fulness
of blessing are bestowed on us here: spiritual
blessings in heavenly places in Christ (Eph.
i. 3); they descend from those heavenly places
upon the heart, that precious name of our
Lord Jesus poured on our hearts. If we be
indeed interested in him (as we pretend), and
have peace with God through our Lord Jesus
Christ, we are put in possession of that bles-
sing of forgiveness of sin, and on terms of
love and amity with the Father, being recon-
ciled by the blood of his Son, and then blessed
with the anointing of the Spirit, the graces
infused from heaven. Now, all these do so
cure the bitter, accursed distempers of the
natural heart, and so perfume it, that it can
not well breathe anything but sweetness and
blessing toward others: being itself thus
blessed of the Lord, it echoes blessing both
to God and men, echoes to his blessing of it;
and its words and whole carriage are as the
smell of a field that the Lord hath blessed, as
old Isaac said of his son's garments, Gen.
xxvii. 27. The Lord having spoken pardon
to a soul, and instead of the curse due to sin,
blessed it with a title to glory, it easily and
readily speaks pardon, and not only pardon,
but blessing also, even to those that outrage
it most, and deserve worst of it; reflecting
still on that, Oh what deserved I at my
Lord's hands ! When, so many talents are
forgiven me, shall I stick at forgiving a few
pence
And then, called to inherit a blessing ; every
believer an heir of blessing ' And not only
are the spiritual blessings he hath received,
but even his largeness of blessing others,
is a pledge to him, an evidence of that heir-
ship; as those who are prone to cursing,
though provoked, yet may look upon that as
a sad mark, that they are heirs of a curse.
Psalm. cxix. 17. As ye loved cursing, so let
it come unto him. Shall not they who delight
in cursing, have enough of it, when they shall
hear that doleful word, Go, ye cursed, &c. 2
And, on the other side, as for the sons of
blessing, who spared it not to any, the bles-
sing they are heirs to is blessedness itself, and
they are to be entered into it by that joyful
speech, Come, ye blessed of my Father.
Men can but bless one another in good
wishes, and can bless the Lord only in praises
and applauding his blessedness; but the
Lord's blessing is, really making blessed ; an
operative word, which brings §e thing with
lt.
Inherit a blessing.] Not called to be ex-
empted from troubles and injuries here, and
to be extolled and favored by the world, but,
on the contrary, rather to suffer the utmost
of their malice, and to be the mark of their
arrows, of wrongs, and scoffs, and reproaches.
But it matters not, this weighs down all, you
are called to inherit a blessing, which all
their cursings and hatred can not deprive you
of. For as this inheriting of blessing en-
forces the duty of blessing others upon a
Christian, so it encourages him to go through
the hardest contrary measure he receives
from the world. If the world should bless
you, and applaud you never, so loudly, yet
their blessings can not be called an inherit-
WER. 10.]
219
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
ance; they fly away, and die out in the air,
have no substance at all, much less that en-
durance that may make them an inheritance.
Qui thesaurum tuum alieno in ore constitutis,
ignoras quod arca ista non clauditur & You
who trust your treasure to another man's
keeping, are you aware that you are leaving
it in an open chest ? And more generally,
is there anything here that deserves to be
called ? The surest inheritances are not more
than for term of life to any one man : their
abiding is for others who succeed, but he re-
moves. Si hac sunt vestra, tollite ea vobis-
cum (S. BERNARD): Iſ these things are yours,
take them away with you. And when a
man is to remove from all he hath possessed
and rejoiced in here, then, fool indeed, if
nothing be provided for the longer (O ! how
much longer) abode he must make elsewhere !
Will he not then bewail his madness, that
he was hunting a shadow all his lifetime !
And may be, he is turned out of all his quiet
possessions and easy dwelling before that
(and in these times we may the more readily
think of this); but at the utmost at night,
when he should be for most rest, when that
sad night comes after this day of fairest pros-
perity, the unbelieving, unrepenting sinner
lies down in sorrow, in a woful bed. Then
must he, whether he will or no, enter on the
possession of this inheritance of everlasting
burnings. He hath an inheritance indeed,
but he had better want it, and himself too be
turned to nothing. Do you believe there are
treasures which neither thief breaks into,
nor is there any inward moth to corrupt them,
an inheritance which, though the whole
world be turned upside down, is in no haz-
ard of a touch of damage, a kingdom, that
not only can not fall, but can not be shaken 2
Heb. xii. 28. Oh be wise, and consider your
latter end, and whatsoever you do, look after
this blessed inheritance. Seek to have the
right to it in Jesus Christ, and the evidences
and seals of it from his Spirit; and if it be
so with you, your hearts will be upon it, and
your lives will be conformed to it.
VER. 10. For he that will love life, and see good
days, let him refrain his tongue from evil, and his
lips that they speak no guile.
THE rich bounty of God diffuses itself
throughout the world upon all ; yet there is
a select number who have peculiar blessings
of his right hand, which the rest of the
world share not in ; and even as to common
blessings, they are differenced by a peculiar
title to them, and sweetness in them; their
blessings are blessings indeed, and entirely
So, outside and inside, and more so within
than they appear without ; the Lord himself
is their portion, and they are his. This is
their blessedness, which in a low estate they
can challenge, and so outvie all the painted
prosperity of the world. Some kind of bless-
ings do abundantly run over upon others; but
the cup of blessings belongs unto the godly
by a new right from heaven, graciously con-
ferred upon them. Others are sent away
with gifts (as some apply that passage, Gen.
xxv. 5, 6), but the inheritance is Isaac's.
They are called to be the sons of God, and
are like him, as his children, in goodness
and blessings. The inheritance of blessings
is theirs alone:–Called, says the apostle, to
inherit a blessing. And all the promises in
the great charter of both testaments run in
that appropriating style, entailed to them, as
the only heirs. Thus this fitly is translated
from the one testament to the other, by the
apostle, for his present purpose—he that will
love, &c. See Psalm xxxiv. 13, 14.
Consider, 1. The qualification required.
2. The blessing annexed and ascertained to
it; the scope being, to recommend a rule so
exact, and for that purpose, to propound a
good so important and desirable, as a suffi-
º attractive to study and conform to that
TUILé.
The rule is all of it one straight line, run-
ning the whole tract of a godly man’s life;
yet you see clearly that it is not cut asunder
indeed, but only marked into four, whereof,
the two latter parcels are somewhat long-
er, more generally reaching a man's ways,
the two former particularly regulating the
tongue.
In the ten words of the law which God de-
livered in so singular a manner both by word
and writ from his own mouth and hand,
there be two, which if not wholly, yet most
especially and most expressly concern the
tongue, as a very considerable, though a
small part of man; and of these four words,
here two are bestowed on it.
The Apostle, St. James, is large in this,
teaching the great concernment of this point.
It is a little member (says he, chap. iii. 5), but
boasteth great things, needs a strong bridle :
and the bridling of it makes much for the
ruling the whole course of a man’s life, as
the apostle there applies the resemblance;
yea, he gives the skill of this as the very
character of perfection. And if we consider it,
it must indeed be of very great consequence
how we use the tongue, it being the main
outlet of the thoughts of the heart and the
mean of society among men in all affairs
civil and spiritual; by which men give birth
to the conceptions of their own minds, and
seek to beget the like in the minds of others.
The bit that is here made for men's mouths
hath these two halves that make it up : 1. To
refrain from open evil speaking. 2. From
double and guileful speaking.
From evil..] This is a large field, the evil
of the tongue; but I give it too narrow a
name: we have good warrant to give it a
much larger—A whole universe, a world of
iniquity, Jam. iii. 6, a vast bulk of evils, and
great variety of them, as of countries on the
earth, or creatures in the world ; and multi-
tudes of such are venomous and full of deadly
poison, and not a few, monsters, new produc-
220
[CHAP III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
tions of wickedness semper aliquid movi, as
they say of Africa.
There be in the daily discourses of the
greatest part of men, many things that be-
long to this world of evil, and yet pass un-
suspected, so that we do not think them to
be within its compass; not using due dili-
gence and exactness in our discoveries of the
several parts of it, although it is all within
ourselves, yea, within a small part of our-
selves, our tongues.
It were too quick a fancy to think to travel
over this world of iniquity, the whole circuit
of it, in an hour, yea, or so much as to aim
exactly at all the parts that can be taken of
it in the smallest map : but some of the chief
we would particularly take notice of in the
several four parts of it; for it will without
constraint hold resemblance in that division,
with the other, the habitable world.
I. Profane speech, that which is grossly
and manifestly wicked ; and in that part lie,
1. Impious speeches, which directly reflect
upon the glory and name of God; blasphe-
mies, and Oaths, and cursings, of which there
is so great, so lamentable abundance among
us, the whole land overspread and defiled
with it, the common noise that meets a man
in streets and houses, and almost in all pla-
ces where he comes; and to these, join what
are not uncommon among us neither, scoffs
and mocking at religion, the power and
strictness of it, not only by the grosser sort,
but by pretenders to some kind of goodness;
for they who have attained to a self-pleasing
pitch of civility or formal religion, have usu-
ally that point of presumption with it, that
they make their own size the model and rule
to examine all by. What is below it, they
condemn indeed as profane ; but what is be-
yond it, they account needless and affected
preciseness; and, therefore, are as ready as
others to let fly invectives or bitter taunts
against it, which are the keen and poisoned
shafts of the tongue, and a persecution that
shall be called to a strict account. 2. Im-
pure or filthy speaking, which either pollutes
or offends the hearers, and is the noisome
breath of a rotten polluted heart.
II. Consider next, as another grand part of
the tongue, Uncharitable speeches, tending
to the defaming and disgrace of others; and
these are likewise of two sorts: 1. Open
railing and reproaches; 2. Secret slander and
detraction. The former is unjust and cruel,
but it is somewhat the less dangerous, be-
cause open. It is a fight in plain field; but
truly it is no piece of a Christan's warfare to
encounter it in the same kind. The sons
of peace are not for these tongue-combats;
they are often, no doubt, set upon so, but
they have another abler way of overcoming
it than by the use of the same weapon: for
they break and blunt the point of ill-re-
proaches by meekness, and triumph over
cursings with more abundant blessing, as is
enjoined in the former words, which are sec-
onded with these out of Psalm xxxiv. 13, 14.
But they that enter the lists in this kind, and
are provided one for another with enraged
minds, are usually not unprovided of weap-
ons, but lay hold on anything that comes
next;-Furor arma ministrat; as your drunk-
ards in their quarrels, in their cups and pots,
if they have any other great reproach, they
lay about them with that, as their sword ; but
if they want that, true or untrue, pertinent or
impertinent, all is one, they cast out any re-
vilings that come next to hand. But there is
not only wickedness, but something of base-
ness in this kind of conflicts, that makes
them more abound among the baser sort, and
not so frequent with such as are but of a
more civil breeding and quality than the
vulgar.
But the other kind—detraction, is more
universal among all sorts, as being a far ea-
sier way of mischief in this kind, and of bet-
ter conveyance. Railings cry out the matter
openly, but detraction works all by surprise
and stratagem, and mines under ground, and
therefore is much more pernicious. The for-
mer are as the arrows that fly by day, but this,
as the pestilence that walketh in darkness (as
these two are mentioned together in Psalm
xci. 5, 6), it spreads and infects secretly and
insensibly, is not felt but in the effects of it;
and it works either by calumnies altogether
forged and untrue, of which malice is invent-
ive, or by the advantage of real faults, of
which it is very discerning, and these are
stretched and aggravated to the utmost. It
is not expressible how deep a wound a tongue
sharpened to this work will give, with a
very little word and little noise—as a razor,
as it is called in Psalm lii. 2, which with a
small touch cuts very deep—taking things by
the worst handle, whereas charity, will try
about all ways for a good acceptation and
sense of things, and takes all by the best.
This pest is still killing some almost in all
companies; it casteth down many wounded,
as it said of the strange woman, Prov. vii. 26.
And they convey it under fair prefacing of
commendation ; so giving them poison in
wine, both that it may pass the better, and
penetrate the more. This is a great sin, one
which the Lord ranks with the first, when
he sets them in order against a man, Psalm
l. 20: Thou sittest and speakest against thy
brother.
III. Vain fruitless speeches are an evil of
the tongue, not only those they call harmless
lies, which some poor people take a pleasure
in, and trade much in, light buffooneries and
foolish jesting, but the greatest part of those
discourses which men account the blameless
entertainments one of another, come within
the compass of this evil; frothy unsavory stuff,
tending to no purpose nor good at all : effect-
less words, pyov, as our Savior speaks, Matt.
xii. 36, of which we must render an account
in the day of judgment, for that very reason.
They are in this world of evil, in the tongue;
WER. 10.]
221
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
if no other way ill, yet ill they are, as the
Arabian deserts and barren sands, because
they are fruitless.
IV. Doubleness and guile: so great a part,
that it is here particularly named a part,
though the evil of it is less known and dis-
eerned ; and so there is in it, as I may say,
much terra incognita ; yet it is of a very
large compass, as large, we may confidently
say, as all the other three together. What
of men's speech is not manifestly evil in any
of the other kinds, is the most of it naught
this way: speech good to appearance, plau-
sible and fair, but not upright; not silver, but
silver dross, as Solomon calls it ; burning
lips, &c. Prov. xxvi. 23. Each almost, some
way or other, speaking falsehood and deceit
to his neighbor; and daring to act thus falsely
with God in his services, and our protesta-
tions of obedience to him ; religious speeches
abused by some in hypocrisy, as holy west-
ments, for a mask or disguise; doing nothing
but compassing him about with lies, as he
complains of Ephraim, Hos. xi. 12; deceiving
indeed ourselves, while we think to deceive
him who can not be deceived, and will not be
mocked, Psalm xvii. 1; Gal. vi. 7. He saw
through the disguise and hypocrisy of his
own people, when they came to inquire at
him, and yet still entertained their heart-
idols, as he tells the prophet, Ezek. xiv. 3.
The sins of each of us, would we enter into
a strict account of ourselves, would be found
to arise to a great sum in this kind; and they
that do put themselves upon the work of self-
trial, find, no doubt, abundant matter of deep-
est humbling, though they had no more, even
in the sin of their lips, and are by it often as-
tonished at the Lord's patience, considering
his holiness; as Isaiah cried out, ch. vi. 5;
having seen the Lord in a glorious vision,
this in particular falls upon his thoughts con-
cerning himself and the people—polluted
lips : Wo is me, &c. And indeed it is a thing
the godly mind can not be satisfied with, to
make mention of the Lord, till their lips be
toucheth with a coal from the heavenly fire of
the altar ; and they especially that are called
to be the Lord's messengers, will say as St.
Bernard, “Had the prophet need of a coal to
unpollute his lips, then do ministers require
totum globum igneum, a whole globe of fire.”
Go through the land, and see if the sins of
this kind will not take up much of the bill
against us, which the Lord seems now to
have taken into his hands and to be reading,
and about to take order with it, because we
will not. Would we set ourselves to read it,
he would let it fall. Is it not because of
9aths that the land mourns, or I am sure
hath now high cause to mourn? Mockings
at the power of godliness fly thick in most
Congregations and societies. And what is
there to be found almost but mutual detrac-
tions and supplantings of the good name of
another, tongues taught to speak lies, Jer. ix.
4, 5, and that frame, or sew and weave to geth-
er deceits, as it is in Psalm l. 192 And even
the godly, as they may be subject to other
sins, so may they be under some degree of
this ; and too many are very much subject, by
reason of their unwatchfulness and not stay-
ing themselves in this point, though not to
profane, yet to vain, and it may be to detrac-
tive speeches; sometimes possibly not with
malicious intention, but out of an inadvertence
of this evil, readier to stick on the failings of
men, and it may be of other Christians, than
to consider, and commend, and to follow what
is laudable in them ; and it may be in their
best discourses, not endeavoring to have
hearts purified, as becomes them, from all
guile and self-ends. Oh it is a thing needs
much diligent study, and is worth it all, to be
thoroughly sincere and unfeigned in all, and
particularly in these things. Our Savior's
innocence is expressed so : In his mouth was
found no guile. (Chapter ii. of this Epistle,
Verse 22.
But to add something for remedy of these
evils in some part discovered ; for to vanquish
this world of evils, is a great conquest.
1. It must be done at the heart ; otherwise
it will be but a mountebank cure, a false im-
agined conquest. The weights and wheels
are there, and the clock strikes according to
their motion. Even he that speaks contrary
to what is within him, guileſully contrary to
his inward conviction and knowledge, yet
speaks conformably to what is within him in
the temper and frame of his heart, which is
double, a heart and a heart, as the psalmist
hath it, Psalm xii. 2. A guileful heart makes
guileful tongue and lips. It is the workhouse
where is the forge of deceits and slanders,
and other evil speakings; and the tongue is
only the outer shop where they are vended,
and the lips the door of it: so then such ware
as is made within, such and no other can be
set out. From evil thoughts, evil speakings ;
from a profane heart, profane words; and
from a malicious heart, bitter or calumnious
words; and from a deceitful heart, guileful
words, well warnished, but lined with rotten-
ness. And so in the general, from the abun-
dance of the heart the mouth speaketh, as our
Savior teaches, Matt. xii. 34. That which
the heart is full of, runs over by the tongue:
if the heart be full of God, the tongue will
delight to speak of him; much of heavenly
things within, will sweetly breathe forth
something of their smell by the mouth ; and
if nothing but earth is there, all that man's
discourse will have an earthly smell; and if
nothing but wind, vanity, and folly, the speech
will be airy, and vain, and purposeless. The
mouth of the righteous speaketh wisdom ; the
law of his God is in his heart, Psalm XXXVii.
30, 31. Thy law, says David (Psalm xl. 8),
is within my heart, or as the Hebrew phrase
is, in the midst of my bowels ; and that, as
from the centre, sends forth the lines and rays
of suitable words, and I will not, can not re-
frain, as there it is added, verse 9, I have
222
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
preached righteousness: lo, I have not re;
frained my lips. So no more can the evil
eart refrain the tongue from evil, as is here
directed. The tongue of the righteous, says
Solomon, is as fine silver, but the heart of the
wicked is little worth. Prov. x. 20. It makes
the antithesis in the root 3 his heart is little
worth, and therefore his tongue has no silver
in it; he may be worth thousands (as we
speak), that is, indeed, in his chests or lands,
and yet himself, his heart, and all the thoughts
of it, not worth a penny.
If thou art inured to oaths or cursing, in any
kind or fashion of it, taking the great name
of God any ways in vain, do not favor thyself
in it as a small offence: to excuse it by cus-
tom, is to wash thyself with ink; and to plead
that thou art long practised in that sin, is to
accuse thyself deeper. If thou wouldst in-
deed be delivered from it, think not that a
slight dislike of it (when reproved) will do;
but seek for a due knowledge of the majesty
of God, and thence a deep reverence of him
in thy heart; and that will certainly cure
that habituated evil of thy tongue; will quite
alter that bias which the custom thou speak-
est of hath given it; will cast it in a new
mould, and teach it a new language; will
turn thy regardless abuse of that name, by
vain oaths and asseverations, into a holy fre-
quent use of it in prayers and praises. Thou
wilt not then dare dishonor that blessed
name, which saints and angels bless and
adore ; but wilt set in with them to bless it.
None that know the weight of that name
will dally with it, and lightly lift it up (as
that word translated taking in vain, in the
third commandment, signifies); they that do
continue to lift it up in vain, as it were, to
sport themselves with it, will find the weight
of it falling back upon them, and crushing
them to pieces.
In like manner, a purified heart will un-
teach the tongue all filthy impure speeches,
and will give it a holy strain; and the spirit
of charity and humility will banish that mis-
chievous humor, which sets so deep in the
most, of reproaching and disgracing others in
any kind, either openly or secretly. For it is
wicked self-love and pride of heart whence
these do spring, searching and disclosing the
failings of others, on which love will rather
cast a mantle to hide them.
It is an argument of a candid ingenuous
mind, to delight in the good name and com-
mendation of others; to pass by their defects,
and take notice of their virtues; and to speak
and hear of those willingly, and not endure
either to speak or hear of the other; for in
this indeed you may be little less guilty than
the evil speaker, in taking pleasure in it,
though you speak it not. And this is a piece
of men's natural perverseness, to drink in
tales and calumnies;* and he that doth this,
will readily, from the delight he hath in hear-
* Obtrectatio et livor primis auribus accipiuntur.
ing, slide insensibly into the humor of evil
speaking. It is strange how most persons
dispense with themselves in this point, and
that in scarcely any societies shall we find a
hatred of this ill, but rather some tokens of
taking pleasure in it; and until a Christian
sets himself to an inward watchfulness over
his heart, not suffering in it any thought that
is uncharitable, or vain self-esteem, upon the
sight of other’s frailties, he will still be sub-
ject to somewhat of this, in the tongue or ear
at least. So, then, as for the evil of guile in
the tongue, a sincere heart, truth in the in-
ward parts, powerfully redresses it; there-
fore it is expressed, Psalm xv. 2, That speak-
eth the truth from his heart ; thence it flows.
Seek much after this, to speak nothing with
God, nor men, but what is the sense of a sin-
gle unfeigned heart. O sweet truth! excel-
lent but rare sincerity he that loves that
truth within, alone can work it there; seek it
of him.
2dly. Be choice in your society, Sit not
with vain persons, Psalm xxvi. 4, whose
tongues have nothing else to utter, but impu-
rity, or malice, or folly. Men readily learn
the dialect and tone of the people among
whom they live. If you sit down in the chair
of scorners, if you take a seat with them, you
shall quickly take a share of their diet with
them, and sitting among them, take your
turn, in time, of speaking with them in their
own language. But frequent the company
of grave and godly persons, in whose hearts
and lips, piety, and love, and wisdom, are set,
and it is the way to learn their language.
3dly. Use a little of the bridle in the quan-
tity of speech.* Incline a little rather to
sparing than lavishing, for in many words
there wants not sin. That flux of the tongue,
that prattling and babbling disease, is very
common; and hence so many impertinences,
yea, so many of those worse ills in their dis-
courses, whispering about, and inquiring, and
censuring this and that. A childish delight!
and yet most men carry it with them all
along to speak of persons and things not con-
cerning us.f And this draws men to speak
many things which agree not with the rules
of wisdom, and charity, and sincerity. He
that refraineth his lips is wise, salth Solo-
mon, Prox. x. 19: a vessel without a cover
can not escape uncleanness. Much might be
avoided by a little refraining of this ; much
of the infection and sin that are occasioned
by the many babblings that are usual. And
were it no worse, is it not a sufficient evil,
that they waste away that time, precious
time, which can not be recovered, which the
most just or most thankful man in the world
can not restore ? . He that spares speech, fa-
vors his tongue indeed, as the Latin phrase
is, [favere lingua]; not he that looses the
*xopis rô r" strew roº kai rā Kaipia. AEscHYL.
f Ovčev obra's #6v rois àv6pórows &s rà XaXcty rā ax-
Aðrpta. 2 ORAT. 1.
WER. 11.]
223
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
reins and lets it run. He that refrains' his
lips, may ponder and pre-examine what he
utters, whether it be profitable and reasona-
ble or no; and so the tongue of the just is as
fined silver, Prov. x. 20; it is refined in the
wise forethought and pondering of the heart:
according to the saying, Bis ad limam privas-
quam semel ad linguam. Twice to the file
ere once to the tongue. Even to utter knowl-
edge and wise things profusely, holds not of
wisdom, and a little usually makes most
noise; as the Hebrew proverb is, Stater in
lagena bis bis clamat. A penny in an earthen
pot keeps a great sound and tinkling. Cer-
tainly it is the way to have much inward
peace, to be wary in this point. Men think
to have solace by much free unbounded dis-
course with others, and when they have done
they find it otherwise, and sometimes con-
trary. He is wise that hath learned to speak
little with others, and much with himself
and with God. How much might be gained
for our souls, if we would make a right use
of this silence . So David, dumb to men,
found his tongue to God, Psal. xxxviii. 13, 15.
A spiritually-minded man is quickly weary
of other discourse, but of that which he loves
and wherewith his affection is possessed and
taken up; Grave a stimant quicquid illud mon
sonat quod intus amant. And by experience,
a Christian will find it, when the Lord is
pleased to show him most favor in prayer or
other spiritual exercise, how unsavory it
makes other discourses after it; as they who
have tasted something singularly sweet, think
other things that are less sweet, altogether
tasteless and unpleasant.
4thly. In the use of the tongue, when thou
dost speak, divert it from evil and guile, by a
habit of, and delight in, profitable and gra-
cious discourse. Thus St. Paul makes the
opposition, Eph, iv. 29. Let there be no
rotten communication (camp's Xoyös), and yet he
urges not total silence neither, but enjoins
such speech as may edify and administer
grace to the hearers. Now in this we should
consider, to the end such discourses may be
more fruitful, both what is the true end of
them, and the right means suiting it. They
are not only, nor principally, for the learning
of some new things, or the canvassing of de-
bated questions, but their chief good is the
warming of the heart; stirring up in it love
to God, and remembrance of our present and
after estate, our mortality and immortality;
and extolling the ways of holiness, and the
promises and comforts of the gospel, and the
excellency of Jesus Christ; and in these,
sometimes one particular, sometimes another,
as our particular condition requires, or any
occasion makes them pertinent. Therefore
in these discourses, seek not so much either
to Vent thy knowledge, or to increase it, as
to know more spiritually and effectually what
thou dost know. And in this way those
mean despised truths, that every one thinks
he is sufficiently seen in, will have a new
sweetness and use in them, which thou didst
not so well perceive before (for these flowers
can not be sucked dry), and in this humble,
sincere way, thou shalt grow in grace and in
knowledge too.
There is no sweeter entertainment than for
travellers to be remembering their country,
their blessed home, and the happiness abi-
ding them there, and to be refreshing and
encouraging one another in the hopes of it;
strengthening their hearts against all the
hard encounters and difficulties in the way:
often overlooking this moment, and helping
each other to higher apprehensions of that
vision of God which we expect.
And are not such discourses much more
worthy the choosing, than the base trash we
usually fill one another's ears withal 2 Were
our tongues given us to exchange folly and
sin 3 or were they not framed for the glorify-
ing of God, and therefore are called our
glory & Some take the expression for the
soul; but they must be one in this work, and
then, indeed, are both our tongues and our
Souls truly our glory, when they are busied
in exalting his, and are tuned together to
that. That my glory may sing praise to
thee and not be silent. Psalm xxx. 12. In-
stead of calumnies, and lies, and vanities, the
carrion which flies—base minds feed on, to
delight in divine things and extolling of God,
is for a man to eat angels' food. . An excel-
lent task for the tongue is that which David
chooseth, Psalm xxxv. 28: And my tongue
shall speak of thy righteousness, and of thy
praise all the day long. Were the day ten
days long, no vacant room for any unholy, or
offensive, or feigned speech And they lose
not who love to speak praise to him, for he
loves to speak peace to them ' and instead of
the world’s vain tongue-liberty, to have such
intercourse and discourse, is no sad melan-
choly life, as the world mistakes it.
VER. 11. Let him eschew evil, and do good; let him
seek peace, and ensue it.
THIS is a full and complete rule; but it is
our miserable folly to mistake so far as to em-
brace evil under the notion of good; and not
only contrary to the nature of the thing, but
contrary to our own experience, still to be
pursuing that which is still flying further off
from us, catching at a vanishing shadow of
delight, with nothing to fasten upon but real
guiltiness and misery. Childish minds ! we
have been so often gulled, and yet never grow
wiser, still bewitched and deluded with
dreams: a deceived heart (a mocked or de-
luded heart) hath turned him aside. Isa. xliv.
20. When we think that we are surest, have
that hand that holds fastest, our right hand,
upon some good, and that now surely we are
sped—even then it proves a lie in our right
hand, slips through as a handful of air and
proves nothing; promises fair, but doth mock
us (as the same word is used by Jacob, Gen.
xxxi. 7, expressing the unfaithfulness of his
224
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
uncle who changed his ways so often); yet
still we foolishly and madly trust it! When
it makes so gross a lie, that we might easily,
if we took it to the light, see through it, be-
ing a lie so often discovered, and of known
falsehood, yet, some new dream or disguise
makes it pass with us again, and we go round
in that mill, having our eyes put out, like
Samson, and still we are where we were,
engaged in perpetual fruitless toil. Strange
that the base deceitful lusts of sin should still
keep their credit with us! but the beast hath
a false prophet at his side, Rev. xix. 20, to
commend him and set him off with new in-
ventions, and causes us to err by his lies, as
it is said of the false prophets, Jer. xxiii. 32.
But evil it is still ; not only void of all good,
but the very deformity and debasement of the
soul; defacing in it the divine image of its
Maker, and impressing on it the vile image
of Satan. And, then, further, it is attended
with shame and sorrow : even at the very
best, it is a sowing of the wind—there is no
solid good in it—and withal a reaping of the
whirlwind, vexations and horrors. Hos. viii. 7.
They that know it under a sense of this after-
view, as attended with the wrath of an of.
fended God—ask them what they think of
it ; whether they would not, in those thoughts.
choose any trouble or pain, though ever so
great, rather than willingly to adventure on
the ways of sin.
Obedience is that good, that beauty and
comeliness of the soul, that conformity with
the holy will of God, that hath peace and
Sweetness in it; the hardest exercise of it is
truly delightful even at present, and hereafter
it shall fully be so. Would we but learn to
consider it thus, to know sin to be the great-
est evil, and the holy will of God the highest
good, it would be easy to persuade and pre-
Vail with men to comply with this advice, to
eschew the One, and do the other.
These do not only reach the actions, but
require an intrinsical aversion of the heart
from sin, and a propension to holiness and
the love of it.
Eschew.] The very motion and bias of the
soul must be turned from sin, and carried
toward God. And this is principally to be
considered by us, and inquired after within
us—an abhorrence of that which is evil, as
the Scripture speaks, Rom. xii. 9; not a sim-
ple forbearing, but hating and loathing it,
and this springing from the love of God. Ye
that love the Lord, hate evil, says the Psalm-
ist, Xcvii. 10. You will do so, can not choose
but do so; and so may you know that love to
him to be upright and true.
And where this love is, the avoidance of
sin, and walking in holiness, or doing good,
will be, 1.. More constant, not wavering with
the variation of outward circumstances, of
occasion, or society, or secrecy, but going on
in its natural course; as the sun is as far
from the earth, and goes as fast, under a
cloud, as when it is in our sight, and goes
cheerfully, because from a natural principle
it rejoiceth as a strong man to run, Psalm
xiv. 5; such is the obedience of a renewed
mind. And, 2. More universal, as proceeding
from an abhorrence of all sin; as natural an-
tipathies are against the whole kind of any
thing. 3. More exact, keeping afar off from
the very appearances of sin, and from all the
inducements and steps toward it. And this
is the true way of eschewing it.
Not a little time of constrained forbearance
during a night, or the day of participating of
the communion, or a little time before, and
some few days after such services; for thus,
with the most, sin is not dispossessed and
cast out, but retires inward and lurks in the
heart. Being beset with those ordinances, it
knows they last but awhile, and therefore it
gets into its strength, and keeps close there,
till they be out of sight and disappear again,
and be a good way off, so that it thinks itself
out of their danger, a good many days having
passed, and then it comes forth and returns to
exert itself with liberty, yea, it may be with
more vigor, as it were to regain the time it
hath been forced to lose and lie idle in.
They again miss of the right manner of
this eschewing, who think themselves, possi-
bly, somebody in it, in that they do avoid the
gross sins wherein the vulgar sort of sinners
wallow, or do eschew such evils as they have
little or no inclination of nature to. But
where the heart stands against sin, as a
breach of God’s law and an offence against
his majesty, as Joseph, Shall I do this evil,
and sin against God 2 Gen. xxxix. 9, there,
it will carry a man against all kind of sin,
the most refined and the most beloved sin,
wherein the truth of this aversion is most
tried and approved. As they who have as
strong natural dislike of some kind of meat,
dress it as you will, and mingle it with what
they love best, yet they will not willingly
eat of it; and if they be surprised and de-
ceived some way to swallow some of it, yet
they will discover it afterward, and be rest-
less till they have vomited it up again; thus
is it with the heart which hath that inward
contrariety to sin wrought in it by a new na-
ture—it will consent to no reconcilement
with it, nor with any kind of it; as in those
deadly feuds which were against whole fam-
ilies and names without exception. The re-
newed soul will have no fellowship with the
unfruitful works of darkness, as the apostle
speaks, Eph. v. 11. For what agreement is
there betwixt light and darkness P , 2 Cor.
vi. 14. And this hatred of sin works most
against sin in a man’s self; as in things we
abhor, our reluctance rises most when they
are nearest us. A godly man hates sin in
others, as hateful wheresoever it is found;
but because it is nearest him in himself, he
hates it most there. They who by their na-
ture and breeding are somewhat delicate,
like not to see anything uncleanly anywhere,
but least of all in their own house, and upon
WER. 11.]
225
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
their own clothes or skin. This makes the
godly man, indeed, flee not only the society
of evil men, but from himself; he goes out
of his old self; and till this be done, a man
does not indeed flee sin, but carries it still
with him as an evil companion, or an evil
guide rather, that misleads him still from the
paths of life. And there is much, first in the
true discovery, and then in the thorough dis-
union of the heart from that sin which is
most of all a man's self, that from which he
can with the greatest difficulty escape, that
besets him the most, #vireotararog, Heb. xii. 1,
and lieth in his way on all hands, hath him
at every turn : to disengage one's self and
get free from that, to eschew that evil, is dif.
ficult indeed. And the task in this is the
harder, if this evil be, as oftentimes it may
be, not some gross sin, but one more subtle,
less seen, and therefore not so easily avoided;
but for this an impartial search must be used:
if it be among those things that seem most
necessary, and that can not be dispensed
with, an idol hid among the stuff, yet thence
must it be drawn forth and cast out.
The right eschewing of evil, involves a
wary avoidance of all occasions and begin-
nings of it. Flee from sin (says the wise
man) as from a serpent. Eccles. ii. 2. We
are not to be tampering with it, and coming
near it, and thinking to charm it : “For,” as
one says, “who will not laugh at the charmer
that is bitten by a serpent 2’’ He that thinks
he hath power and skill to handle it without
danger, let him observe Solomon's advice
concerning the strange woman : he says not
only, Go not into her house, but, remove thy
way far from her, and come not near the door
of her house. Prov. v. 8. So teaches he wise-
ly for the avoiding of that other sin near to
it, Look not on the wine when it is red in the
cup. Prov. xxiii. 31. They that are bold and
adventurous, are often wounded: thus, he that
removeth stones shull be hurt thereby. Eccles.
X. 9. If we know our own weakness and
the strength of sin, we shall fear to expose
ourselves to hazards, and be willing even
to abridge ourselves of some things lawful
when they prove dangerous; for he that will
do always, all he lawfully may, shall often
do something that lawfully he may not.
Thus for the other [do good], the main
thing is, to be inwardly principled for it; to
have a heart stamped with the love of God
and his commandments; to do all for con-
science of his will, and love to him, and de-
sire of his glory. A good action, even the
best kind of actions, in an evil hand, and
from an evil unsanctified heart, passes among
evil. Delight in the Lord and in his ways.
David's Oh! how love I thy law, Psalm czix.
17, tells that he esteems it above the richest
and pleasantest things on earth, but how
much he esteems and loves it he can not
express.
And upon this will follow (as observed in
regard to eschewing evil) a constant track
and course of obedience, moving directly con-
trary to the stream of wickedness about a
man, and also against the bent of his own
corrupt heart within him; a serious desire
and endeavor to do all the good that is with-
in our calling and reach, but especially that
particular good of our calling, that which is
in our hand, and is peculiarly required of us.
For in this some deceive themselves; they
look upon such a condition as they imagine
were fit for them, or such as is in their eye
when they look upon others, and they think
if they were such persons, and had such a
place, and such power and opportunities, they
would do great matters, and in the mean-
time they neglect that good to which they
are called, and which they have in some
measure power and place to do. This is the
roving sickly humor of our minds, and
speaks their weakness; as sick persons would
still change their bed, or posture, or place
of abode, thinking to be better. But a staid
mind applies itself to the duties of its own
station, and seeks to glorify him who set it
there, reverencing his wisdom in disposing
of it so. And there is certainty of a blessed
approbation of this conduct. Be thy station
never so low, it is not the high condition, but
much fidelity, secures it: , Thou hast been
faithful in little. Luke xix. 17. We must
care not only to answer occasions, when they
call, but to catch at them, and seek them
out; yea, to frame occasions of doing good,
whether in the Lord's immediate service, de-
lighting in that, private and public, or in do-
ing good to men, in assisting one with our
means, another with our admonitions, anoth-
er with counsel or comfort as we can ; labor-
ing not only to have something of that good
which is most contrary to our nature, but
even to be eminent in that, setting Christian
resolution, and both the example and strength
of our Lord against all oppositions, and diffi-
culties, and discouragements: Looking unto,
Jesus the author and finisher of our faith-
Heb. xii. 2.
We see, then, our rule, and it is the rule
of peace and happiness; what hinders but
we apply our hearts to it? This is our work,
and setting aside the advantage that follows,
consider the thing in itself: 1. The opposi-
tion of sin and obedience, under the name
of evil and good ; 2. The composition of our
rule in these expressions, eschew and do.
Consider it thus—evil and good, and it will
persuade us to eschew and do. And if you
are persuaded to it, then, 1. Desire light
from above, to discover to you what is evil
and offensive to God in any kind, and what
pleaseth him, what is his will (for that is the
rule and reason of good in our actions, that
ye may prove what is the good, and holy, and
acceptable will of God, Rom. xii. 2); and to
discover in yourselves what is most adverse.
and repugnant to that will. 2. Seek a re-
newed mind to hate that evil, even such as
is the closest and most connatural to you,
29
226
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
and to love that good, even that which is
most contrary. 3. Seek strength and skill,
that by another Spirit than your own, you
may avoid evil and do good, and resist the
incursions and solicitings of evil, the artifi-
ces and violences of Satan, who is both a
serpent and a lion ; and seek for power
against your own inward corruption, and the
fallacies of your own heart. And thus you
shall be able for every good work, and be
kept, in such a measure as suits your present
estate, blameless in spirit, soul, and body, to
the coming of Jesus Christ. 1 Thess. v. 23.
“Oh ſ” but says the humble Christian, “I
am often entangled and plunged in soul-evils,
and often frustrated in my thoughts against
these evils, and in my aims at the good,
which is my task and duty.”
And was not this Paul's condition ? May
you not complain in his language 2 And
happy will you be, if you do so with some
measure of his feeling; happy in crying out
of wretchedness / Was not this his malady,
When I would do good, evil is present with
me 2 Rom. vii. 21. But know at once, that
though thy duty is this, to eschew evil and do
good, yet thy salvation is more surely found-
ed than on thine own good. That perfection
which answers to justice and the law, is not
required of thee. Thou art to walk, not after
the flesh, but after the spirit ; but in so walk-
ing, whether in a low or a high measure,
still thy comfort lieth in this, that there is no
condemnation to them that are in Christ Je-
sus, as the apostle begins the next chapter
(Rom. viii.) after his sad complaints. Again,
consider his thoughts in the close of the viith
chapter, on perceiving the work of God in
himself, and distinguishing that from the
corrupt motions of nature, and so finding at
once matter of heavy complaint, and yet of
cheerful exultation: O ! wretched man that
I am ; and yet with the same breath, thanks
to God, through Christ Jesus our Lord.
So then, mourn with him, and yet rejoice
with him, and go on with courage as he did,
still fighting the good fight of faith. When
thou fallest in the mire, be ashamed and
humbled, yet return and wash in the foun-
tain opened, and return and beg new strength
to walk more surely. Learn to trust thyself
less, and God more, and up and be doing
against thy enemies, how tall and mighty
soever be the sons of Anak. Be of good
courage, and the Lord shall be with thee,
and shall strengthen thy heart, and establish
thy goings.
Do not lie down to rest upon lazy conclu-
sions, that it is well enough with thee, because
thou art out of the common puddle of profane-
ness; but look further, to cleanse thyself from
all filthiness of flesh and spirit, perfecting
holiness in the fear of God. 2 Cor. vii. 1. Do
not think thy little is enough, or that thou
hast reason to despair of attaining more, but
press, press hard toward the mark and prize
of thy high calling. Phil. iii. 14. Do not think
all is lost, because thou art at present foiled.
Novit se sæpe vicisse post sanguinem, says
Seneca : The experienced soldier knows that
he hath often won the day after a fall, or a
wound received ; and be assured that after
the short combats of a moment, follows an
eternity of triumph.
Let him seek peace and ensue it..] Omitting
the many acceptations of the word peace, here
particularly external peace with men, I con-
ceive is meant ; and this is to be sought, and
not only to be sought when it is willingly
found, but we are to pursue and follow it when
it seems to fly away ; but yet, so to pursue
it, as never to step out of the way of holiness
and righteousness after it, and to forsake this
rule that goes before it, of eschewing evil and
doing good. Yea, mainly in so doing is peace
to be sought and pursued, and it is most readily
to be found and overtaken in that way: for the
fruit of righteousness is peace. James iii. 18.
1st, Consider that an unpeaceable, turbulent
disposition is the badge of a wicked mind;
as the raging sea, still casting up mire and
dirt. Isa. Ivii. 20. But this love of peace, and
in all good ways seeking and pursuing it, is
the true character of the children of God,
who is the God of peace. True, the ungodly
(to prevent their own just challenge, as Ahab)
call the friends of true religion, disturbers,
and the troublers of Israel, 1 Kings xviii. 17; .
and this will still be their impudence: but,
certainly, they that love the welfare of Jeru-
salem, do seek, and pray for, and work for
peace all they can, as a chief blessing, and
the fruitful womb of multitudes of blessings.
2dly, Consider, then, that to be deprived of
peace, is a heavy judgment, and calls for our
prayers and tears to pursue it and entreat its
return ; calls us to seek it from His hand who
is the sovereign dispenser of peace and war,
to seek to be at peace with him, and thereby
good, all good shall come unto us (Job xxii. 21),
and particularly this great good of outward
peace in due time ; and the very judgment
of war shall in the event be turned into a
blessing. We may pursue it among men,
and not overtake it ; we may use all good
means, and fall short ; but pursue it up as far
as the throne of grace, seek it by prayer, and
that will overtake it, will be sure to find it in
God's hand, who stilleth the waves of the sea,
and the tumults of the people. If he give
quietness, who then can disturb 3 Psalm. lxv.
7; Job xxxiv. 29.
He that will love life.] This is the attrac-
tive, life. Long life and days of good, is
the thing men most desire ; for if they be
evil days, then so much the worse that they
be long, and the shortest of such seem too
long; and if short, being good, this cuts off
the enjoyment of that good: but these two
complete the good, and suit it to men's wishes,
—length and prosperity of life.
It is here supposed that all would be happy,
that all desire it, being carried to that by na-
ture, to seek their own good; but he that will
WER. 12.]
227
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
love it, that means here, that will wisely love
it, that will take the way to it, and be true
to his desire, must refrain his tongue from
evil, and his lips that they speak no guile ; he
must eschew evil and do good, seek peace and
ensue it. You desire to see good days, and
yet hinder them by sinful provocations; you
desire good clear days, and yet cloud them by
your guiltiness.
Thus many desire good here, yea, and con-
fusedly desire the good of the life to come,
because they hear it is life, and long life, and
that good is to be found in it, yea, nothing but
good: but in this is our folly, we will not love
it wisely. The face of our desire is toward
it, but in our course we are rowing from it
down into the dead sea. You would all have
better times, peace and plenty, and freedom
from the molestation and expense of our pres-
ent condition : why will you not be persuad-
ed to seek it in the true way of it 2
But how is this 2 Do not the righteous
often pass their days in distress and sorrow,
so as to have few and evil days, as Jacob
speaks, Gen. xlix. 7 ? Yet is there a truth in
this promise, annexing outward good things
to godliness, as having the promises of this
life, and that which is to come. 1 Tim. iv. 8.
And it is so accomplished to them, when the
Lord sees it convenient and conductive to
their highest good: but that he most aims at,
and they themselves do most desire ; and
therefore, if the abatement of outward good,
either as to the length or sweetness of this
life, serve his main end and theirs better, they
are agreed upon this gainful commutation of
good for infinitely better.
The life of a godly man, though short in
comparison of the utmost of nature's course,
yet may be long in value, in respect of his ac-
tivity and attainment to much spiritual good.
He may be said to live much in a little time ;
whereas they that wear out their days in folly
and sin, diu vivunt sed parum, i. e., they live
long, but little ; or, as the same writer again
speaks, non diu via'it, diu fuit, i, e., he lived
not long, but existed long. And the good of
the godly man's days, though unseen good,
surpasses all the world's mirth and prosperity,
which makes a noise, but is hollow within,
as the crackling of thorns, a great sound, but
little heat, and quickly done. As St. Augus-
time says of Abraham, he had dies bonos in
Deo, licet malos in seculo, good days in God,
though evil days in his generation ; a believer
can make up an ill day with a good God, and
enjoying him, he hath solid peace. . But then
that which is abiding, that length of days,
and that dwelling in the house of God in that
length of days, is what eye hath not seen, nor
ear heard, &c. 1 Cor. ii. 9. They are, in-
deed, good days, or rather one everlasting
day, which has no need of the sun, nor of the
moon, but immediately flows from the first
and increated Light, the Father of Lights :
His glory shines in it, and the Lamb is the
Light thereof.
VER. 12. For the eyes of the Lord are over the righ-
teous, and his ears are open unto their prayers;
but the face of the Lord is against them that do
evil.
THE wisest knowledge of things is, to know
them in their causes; but there is no knowl-
edge of causes so happy and useful, as clearly
to know and firmly to believe the universal
dependance of all things upon the first and
highest cause, the cause of causes, the spring
of being and goodness, the wise and just Ruler
of the world.
This the Psalmist, Psalm xxxiv. 15, 16, as
here with him the apostle, give us the true
reason of that truth they have averred in the
former words, the connexion of holiness and
happiness. If life, and peace, and all good be
in God's hand to bestow when it pleaseth him,
then surely the way to it is an obedient and
regular walking in observance of his will;
and the way of sin is the way to ruin: For
the eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous,
&c., and his face is against them that do evil.
In the words there is a double opposition ;
of persons, and of their portion.
1st, Of persons, The righteous and evil-
doers. These two words are often used in the
Scriptures, and particularly in the book of
Psalms, to express the godly and the wicked;
and so this righteousness is not absolute per-
fection or sinlessness, nor is the opposed evil
every act of sin or breach of God's law : but
the righteous be they that are students of
obedience and holiness, that desire to walk
as in the sight of God, and to walk with God,
as Enoch did; that are glad when they can
any way serve him, and grieved when they
offend him ; that feel and bewail their un-
righteousness, and are earnestly breathing and
advancing forward; have a sincere and un-
feigned love to all the commandments of God,
and diligently endeavor to observe them; that
vehemently hate what most pleases their
corrupt nature, and love the command that
crosses it most; this is an imperfect kind of
perfection. See Phil. iii. 12, 15.
On the other side, evil-doers are they that
commit sin with greediness ; that walk In 15,
make it their way; that live in sin as their
element, taking pleasure in unrighteous-
ness, as the apostle speaks, 2 Thessalonians
xi. 12; their great faculty, their great delight
lies in sin ; they are skilful and cheerful evil-
doers. Not any one man in all kinds of sins;
that is impossible ; there is a concatenation
ofsin, and one disposes and inducesto another;
but yet one ungodly man is commonly more
versed in and delighted with some one kind
of sin, another with some other. He forbears
none because it is evil and hateful to God,
but as he can not travel over the whole globe
of wickedness, and go the full circuit, he
walks up and down in his accustomed Way
of sin. No one mechanic is good at all trades,
nor is any man expert in all arts; but he is
an evil-doer that follows the particular trade
of the sin he hath chosen, is active and dili-
228
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
gent in that, and finds it sweet. In a word,
this opposition lieth mainly in the bent of the
affection, or in the way it is set. The godly
man hates the evil he possibly by temptation
hath been drawn to do, and loves the good he
is frustrated of, and, having intended, hath
not attained to do. The sinner who hath his
denomination from sin as his course, hates
the good which he is sometimes forced to do,
and loves that sin which many times he does
not, either wanting occasion and means, so
that he can not do it, or through the check
of an enlightened conscience, possibly dares
not do ; and though so bound up from the act,
as a dog in a chain, yet the habit, the natural
inclination and desire in him, is still the same,
the strength of his affection is carried to sin.
So in the weakest godly man, there is that
predominant sincerity and desire of holy
walking, according to which he is called a
righteous person, the Lord is pleased to give
him that name, and account him so, being
upright in heart, though often failing. There
is a righteousness of higher strain, upon which
his salvation hangs; that is not in him, but
upon him ; he is clothed with it: but this
other kind, which consists of sincerity, and of
true and hearty, though imperfect obedience,
is the righteousness here meant, and opposed
to evil-doing.
2dly, Their opposite condition, or portion,
is expressed in the highest notion of it, that
wherein the very being of happiness and misery
lieth, the favor and anger of God. As their
natures differ most by the habit of their affec-
tion toward God, as their main distinguishing
character, so the difference of their estate
consists in the point of his affection toward
them, expressed here, in our language, by the
divers aspects of his countenance; because
our love or hatred usually looks out, and
shows itself that way.
Now for the other word expressing his fa-
vor to the righteous, by the openness of his
ear—the opposition in the other needed not
be expressed; for either the wicked pray not,
or if they do, it is indeed no prayer, the Lord
doth not account or receive it as such ; and
if his face be set against them, certainly his
ear is shut against them too, and so shut
that it openeth not to their loudest prayer.
Though they cry in mine ears with a loud
voice, yet will I not hear them, says the Lord,
Ezek. viii. 18.
And before we pass to the particulars of
their condition, as here we have them de-
scribed, this we would consider a little, and
apply it to our present business—Who are
the persons whom the Lord thus regards,
and to whose prayer he opens his ear.
This we pretend to be seeking after, that
the Lord would look favorably upon us, and
hearken to our suits, for ourselves, and this
land, and the whole church of God within
these kingdoms, Indeed the fervent prayer
of aW.ſ. man availeth much [Toº toxiet]; it
is of great strength, a mighty thing, that can
bind and loose the influences of heaven (as
there is instanced, James v. 16); and if the
prayer of a righteous man, be it but of one
righteous man, how much more the com-
bined cries of many of them together And
that we judge not the righteousness there
and here mentioned to be a thing above hu-
man estate, Elias, says the apostle, was a
man, and a man subject to like passions
as we are, and yet such a righteous per-
son as the Lord had an eye and gave ear to
in so great a manner. But where are those
righteous fasters and prayers in great con-
gregations 3 How few, if any, are to be
found, who are such but in the lowest sense
and measure, real lovers and inquirers after
holiness ' What are our meetings here, but
assemblies of evil-doers, rebellious children,
ignorant and profane persons, or dead, formal
professors; and so, the more of us, the worse,
incensing the Lord the more ; and the multi-
tude of prayers, though we could and would
continue many days, all to no purpose from
such as we. Though ye make many prayers,
when ye multiply prayer, I will not hear ;
and when ye spread forth your hands, I will
hide mine eyes from you. Isa. i. 11. Your
hands are so filthy, that if you would follow
me to lay hold of me with them, you drive
me further off; as one with foul hands fol-
lowing a person that is neat, to catch hold of
him; and if you spread them out before me,
my eyes are pure, you will make me turn
away ; I can not endure to look upon them,
I will hide mine eyes from you. And fasting,
added with prayer, will not do it, nor make
it pass. When they fast, I will not hear their
cry. Jer. xiv. 12.
It is the sin of his people that provokes
him, instead of looking favorably upon them
to have his eyes upon them for evil and not
for good, as he threatens, Amos iz. 4; and
therefore, without putting away of that,
prayer is lost breath, doth no good.
They that still retain their sins, and will
not hearken to his voice, how can they ex-
pect but that justly-threatened retaliation,
Prov. i. 26, 28, and that the Lord, in holy
scorn in the day of their distress, should send
them for help and comfort to those things
which they have made their gods, and pre-
ferred before him in their trouble 2 They
will say, arise and save us ; but where are
the gods that thou hast made thee 3 Let
them arise, if they can save thee in the time
of thy trouble. Jer. ii. 28.
And not only do open and gross impieties
thus disappoint our prayers, but the lodging
of any sin in our affection. If I regard ini-
quity in my heart, says the psalmist (Psalm
lxvi. 18), the Lord will not hear my voice.
The word is, If I see iniquity; if mine eye
look pleasantly upon it, his will not look so
upon me, nor shall I find his ear so ready and
open. He says not, If I do sin, but, If I re-
ard it in my heart. The heart's entertaining
and embracing a sin, though it be a smaller
WER. 12.]
229
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
sin, is more than the simple falling into sin.
And as the ungodly do for this reason lose all
their prayers, a godly man may suffer this
way, in some degree, upon some degree of
guiltiness. The heart being seduced, it may
be, and entangled for a time by some sinful
lust, Christians are sure to find a stop in their
prayers, that they neither go nor come so
quickly and so comfortably as before. Any
sinful humor, as rheums do our voice, binds
up the voice of prayer, makes it not so clear
clear and shrill as it was wont ; and the accu-
sing guilt of it ascending, shuts up the Lord's
ear, that he doth not so readily hear and an-
swer as before. And thus that sweet corre-
spondence is interrupted, which all the de-
lights of the world can not compensate. If
then, you would have easy and sweet accesses
to God in prayer,
1. Seek a holy heart; entertain a constant
care and study of holiness; admit no parley
with sin ; do not so much as hearken to it, if
you would be readily heard.
2. Seek a broken heart; the Lord is ever
at hand to that, as it is in Psalm xxxiv.,
whence the apostle cites the words now un-
der our consideration, He is nigh to them that
are of a contrite spirit, v. 18, &c.; it is an
excellent way to prevail. The breaking of
the heart multiplies petitioners; every piece
of it hath a voice, and a very strong and very
moving voice, that enters his ear, and stirs
the bowels and compassions of the Lord
toward it.
3. Seek an humble heart. That may pre-
sent its suit always; the court is constantly
there, even within it: the Great King loves
to make his abode and residence in it. Isa.
lvii. 15. This is the thing that the Lord so
delights in and requires; he will not fail to
accept of it ; it is his choice, Mic. vi. 7, 8,
Wherewith shall I come before the Lord 2 &c.
He hath showed thee, O man, what is good ;
and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to
do justly, and love mercy 2 There is this
righteousness, and that as a great part ma-
king it up, to walk humbly with thy God ; in
the original, humble to walk with thy God ;
he can not agree with a proud heart; he
hates, resists it; and two can not walk togeth-
er unless they be agreed, as the prophet
speaks, Amos ii. 3. The humble heart only
is company for God, has liberty to walk and
converse with him. He gives grace to the
humble ; he bows his ear, if thou lift not up
thy neck: proud beggars he turns away with
disdain, and the humblest suiters always speed
best with him. The righteous, not such in
their own eyes, but in his, through his gra-
cious dignation and acceptance. And is
there not reason to come humbly before him
-base worms, to the most holy and most
high God 2
The eyes of the Lord.] We see, 1. That
both are in his sight, the righteous and the
wicked ; all of them, and all their ways. His
eye is on the one, and his face on the other,
as the word is ; but so on these as to be
against them. It is therefore rendered as
denoting his eye of knowledge and obser-
Vance, marking them and their actions, which
is equally upon both. There is no darkness
nor shadow of death where the workers of in-
*quity may hide themselves, Job xxxiv. 22.
Foolishly and wretchedly done, to do that,
or think that, which we would hide from
the Lord, and then to think that we can
hide it ! The prophet speaks wo to such :
Wo to them that dig deep to hide their
counsel from the Lord, and their works are
in the dark, and they say, Who seeth us, and
who knoweth us 2 Isa. xxix. 15. And this 1s
the grand principle of all wickedness (not, it
may be, expressly stated, but secretly lying
in the soul), an habitual forgetting of God
and his eye, not considering that he beholds
us. Ye that forget God, says the psalmist
(1.22); thence all impiety proceeds; and, on
the other side, the remembrance of his eye, is
a radical point of piety and holiness, in which
the cxxxixth Psalm is large and excellent.
But, 2, as the Lord doth thus equally see
both, so that his eye and countenance import
his mind concerning them and toward them,
the manner of his beholding them is different,
yea contrary. And from the other—the be-
holding them in common—knowing their
ways—arises this different beholding, which
(as usually words of sense signify also the af-
fection, verba sensus connotant affectus) is
the approving and disliking, the loving and
hating them, and their ways: so he pecu-
liarly knows the righteous and their ways,
Psalm i. 6, and knows not, never knew, the
workers of iniquity ; even those that by their
profession would plead most acquaintance,
and familiar converse, eating and drinking
in his presence, and yet I know you not,
whence you are. Luke viii. 26. . It is not a
breaking off from former acquaintance; no,
he doth not that ; he disavows none that
ever were truly acquainted with him. So
the other evangelist hath it, Matt. vii. 29; of
those that thought to have been in no small
account, I never knew you, depart from me 3
and the convincing reason lies in that, Ye
workers of iniquity: none of his favorites and
friends are such.
Thus here, his eye, his gracious eye for
good, is on the righteous; and his face, his
angry looks, his just wrath, against evil-doers.
In the xith Psalm we have this expressed
after the same way. First, what we spoke
of God's knowing and beholding in common
the righteous and wicked, and their ways, is
represented by his sitting on high, where he
may mark, and see clearly throughout all
places and all hearts. His throne is in heav-
en, his eyes behold, his eyelids try the chil-
dren of men, ver. 4. He sits in heaven, not
as in a chair of rest, regardless of human
things, but on a throne for governing and
judging; though with as little uneasiness and
disturbance, as if there were nothing to be done
230
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
that way. . His eyes behold, not in a fruitless
contemplation or knowledge, but his eyelids
try, which signifies an intent inspection, such
as men usually make with a kind of motion
of their eyelids. Then upon this is added the
different portion of the righteous and wicked,
in his beholding them and dealing with them:
The Lord trieth the righteous, ver. 5, ap-
proves what is good in them, and by trial
and affliction doth purge out what is evil;
and in both these there is love; but the wick-
ed, and him that loveth violence, his soul ha-
teth , and therefore, as here, His face is
against them. His soul and face are all one,
but these things are expressed after our man-
ner. He looks upon them with indignation;
and thence come the storms in the next
verse, Snares rained down, ver. 6; the wari-
est foot can not avoid such snares, they come
down upon them from above: Fire and brim-
stone and burning tempest (alluding to Sod-
om's judgment, as an emblem of the punish-
ment of all the wicked); this is the portion
of their cup. There is a cup for them ; but
his children drink not with them. They
have another cup, the Lord himself is the
portion of their cup. Psalm xvi. 5. As the
xith Psalm closes, The righteous Lord lov-
eth righteousness : his countenance doth be-
hold the wp:right : that is another beholding
than the former, a gracious, loving behold-
ing: as here, His eyes are upon the righteous.
Now the persuasion of this truth is the
main establishment of a godly mind, amid all
the present confusions that appear in things;
and it is so here intended, as well as in the
Psalm I have mentioned, and throughout the
Scriptures.
To look upon the present flourishing and
prosperity of evil-doers, and on the distresses
and sorrows of the godly, is a dark obscure
matter in itself; but the way to be cleared
and comforted, is, to look above them to the
Lord. They looked unto him and were light-
ened. Psalm xxxiv. 5. That answers all
doubts, to believe this undoubted providence
and justice, the eye of God that sees all, yea,
rules all these things. And in the midst of
all the painted happiness of wicked men,
this is enough to make them miserable, The
Lord's face is against them : and they shall
Surely find it so. He hath wrath and judg-
ment in store, and will bring it forth to light,
will execute it in due time; he is preparing
for them that cup spoken of, and they shall
drink it. So, in the saddest condition of his
church and a believing soul, to know this,
that the Lord's eye is even then upon them,
and that he is upon thoughts of peace and
love to them, is that which settles and com-
poses the mind. Thus, in that Psalm before
cited, it was such difficulties that did drive
David's thoughts to that for satisfaction; If
the foundations be destroyed, what can the
righteous do 2 Psalm xi. 2. In the time of
such great shakings and confusions, the righ-
teous man can do nothing to it, but the righte-
ous Lord can do enough ; he can do all, The
righteous Lord that loveth righteousness.
hile all seems to go upside down, He is on
his throne, he is trying and judging, and
will appear to be judge. This is the thing
that faithful souls should learn to look to,
and not lose view and firm belief of, and
should desire the Lord himself to raise their
minds to it, when they are ready to sink.
Natural strength and resolution will not serve
the turn ; floods may come that will arise
above that ; something above a man’s own
spirit must support him: therefore say with
David, Psalm lxi. 2, When my spirit is over-
whelmed, lead me to the rock that is higher
than I. They think sometimes it is so hard
with them, that he regards not ; but he as-
sures them to the contrary, I have graven
thee upon the palms of mine hands, Isa. xlix.
16. I can not look upon my own hands, but
I must remember thee: And thy walls are
continually before me. This is what the
spouse seeks for, Set me as a seal upon thine
arm. Cant. viii. 6.
Now a little more particularly to consider
the expressions, and their scope here ; how is
that made good which the former words teach,
that they who walk in the ways of wicked-
ness can expect no good, but are certainly
miserable 2 Thus: The face of the Lord is
against them. Prosper they may in their af-
fairs and estates, may have riches, and pos-
terity, and friends, and the world caressing
them and smiling on them on all hands; but
there is that one thing that damps all, the
face of the Lord is against them. This they
feel not indeed for the time ; it is an invisible
ill, out of sight and out of mind with them ;
but there is a time of the appearing of this
face of the Lord against them, the revelation
of his righteous judgment, as the apostle
speaks, Romans ii. 5. Sometimes they have
precursory days of it here; there is, however,
one great prefixed day, a day of darkness to
them indeed, wherein they shall know what
this is, that now sounds so light, to have the
face of the Lord against them. A look of it
is more terrible than all present miseries com-
bined together ; what then shall the etermity
of it be? to be punished (as the apostle speaks)
with everlasting destruction from the presence
of the Lord, and the glory of his power 1
2 Thess. i. 9.
Are we not then impertinent foolish crea-
tures, who are so thoughtful how our poor
business here succeed with us, and how we
are accounted of in the world, and how the
faces of men are toward us, and scarcely ever
enter into a secret serious inquiry how the
countenance of God is to us, whether favora-
bly shining on us, or still angrily set against
ws, as it is against all impenitent sinners ?
The face of the soul being toward God,
turned away from the world and sin, argues
for it, that his face is not against it, but that
he hath graciously looked upon it, and by a
look of love hath drawn it toward himself;
WER. 12.]
201
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
for we act not first in that. Non amatur Deus
nisi de Deo : There is no love of God but
what comes from God. It is he that prevents
us, and by the beams of his love kindles love
in our hearts. Now the soul that is thus set
toward him, it may be, doth not constantly
see here his face shining full and clear upon
it, but often clouded ; nay, it may be, such a
soul hath not yet at all seen it sensibly ; yet
this it may conclude, “Seeing my desires are
toward him, and my chief desire is the sweet
light of his countenance, though as yet I find
not his face shining on me, yet I am per-
suaded it is not set against me to destroy me.”
Misbelief, when the soul is much under its
influence and distempered by it, may suggest
this sometimes too: but yet still there is some
spark of hope that it is otherwise—that the
eye of the Lord's pity is even in that estate
º us, and will in time manifest itself to
€ SO.
To the other question, Whatassurance have
the godly for that seeing of good, these bles-
sings you speak of ? This is the answer:
The eyes of the Lord are upon them, and his
ears open to their prayer. If you think him
wise enough to know what is good for them,
and rich enough to afford it, they are sure of
one thing, he loves them ; they have his good
will ; his heart is toward them, and therefore
his eye and his ear. Can they then want any
good 2 If many days and outward good things
be indeed good for them, they can not miss
of these. He hath given them already much
better things than these, and hath yet far bet-
ter in store for them : and what way soever
the world go with them, this itself is happi-
ness enough, that they are in his love, whose
loving kindness is better than life, Ps. lxiii. 3.
Sweet days have they that live in it. What
better days would courtiers wish, than to be
still in the eye and favor of the king, to be
certain of his good will toward them, and to
know of access and of a gracious acceptance
of all their suits 2 Now thus it is with all the
'servants of the Great King, without prejudice
one to another; he is ready to receive their
requests, and able and willing to do them
all good. Happy estate of a believer ! He
must not account himself poor and destitute
in any condition, for he hath favor at court;
he hath the King's eye and his ear; the eyes
of the Lord are upon him, and his ears open
to his prayers.
The eyes of the Lord are upon the righte-
ous.] This hath in it, 1. His love, the pro-
pension of his heart toward them. The eye
is the servant of the affection; it naturally
turns that way most where the heart is.
Therefore thus the Lord is pleased to speak
of his love to his own. He views still all the
world, but he looks upon them with a pecu-
liar delight: his eye is still on them, as it
were, turned toward them from all the rest
of the world. Though he doth not always
let them see these his looks (for it is not said,
they are always in sight of it; no, not here);
yet still his eye is indeed upon them, attract-
ed by the beauty of grace in them, his own
work indeed, the beauty that he himself hath
put upon them. And so as to the other, his
ear too ; he is willing to do for them what
they ask ; he loves even to hear them speak:
finds a sweetness in the voice of their prayers,
that makes his ear not only open to their
rayers, but desirous of them as sweet music.
hus he speaks of both, Cant. ii. 14, My dove,
let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy
voice, for sweet is thy voice, and thy counte-
nance is comely.
2. The phrase expresses his good provi-
dence and readiness to do them good ; to Sup-
ply their wants, and order their affairs for
them ; to answer their desires, and thus to
let them find the fruits of that love which so
leads his eye and ear toward them. His eye
is upon them ; he is devising and thinking
what to do for them; it is the thing he thinks
on most. His eyes are upon all, but they are
busied, as he is pleased to express it, they run
to and fro through the earth, to show himself
strong in behalf of them whose heart is per-
fect toward him, &c. 2 Chronicles xvi. 9. So
Deut. xi. 12: His eyes are all the year on the
land. No wonder, then, he answers their
suits in what is good for them, when it is
still in his thoughts before. He prevents them
with the blessings of his goodness, Psalm xxi.
3: they can not be so mindful of themselves
as he is of them.
This is an unspeakable comfort, when a
poor believer is in great perplexity of any
kind in his outward or spiritnal condition.
“Well, I see no way; I am blind in this, but
there are eyes upon me, that see well what is
best. The Lord is minding me, and bringing
about all to my advantage. I am poor and
needy indeed, but the Lord thinketh on me,
Ps. xi. 17.” That turns the balance. Would
not a man, though he had nothing, think him-
self happy, if some great prince was busily
thinking how to advance and enrich him 3
Much more, if a number of kings were upon
this thought, and devising together. . Yet
these thoughts might perish, as the psalmist
speaks, Psalm cylvi. 4. How much more
solid happiness is it to have him, whose
power is greatest, and whose thoughts fail
not, eying thee, and devising thy good, and
asking us, as it were, What shall be done to
the man whom the king will honor 2
And his ears are open unto their prayer.]
What suits thou hast, thou mayest speak
freely; he will not refuse thee anything that
is for thy good.
“O ! but I am not righteous, and all this is
for the righteous only.” Yet thou wouldst
be such a one. Wouldst thou indeed ? then
in part thou art (as he who modestly and
wisely changed the name of wisemen into
philosophers, lovers of wisdom), art thou not
righteous 2 yet, (pixočikatos) a lover of righte-
ousness, thou art; then thou art one of the
righteous. If still thine own unrighteousness
232
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
be in thine eye, it may and should be so, to
humble thee; but if it should scare thee
from coming unto God, and offering thy suits
with this persuasion, that his ear is open,
should it make thee think that his favorable
eye is not toward thee, yet there is mercy ;
creep in under the robe of his Son. Thou art
sure he is Jesus Christ the righteous, and that
the Father's eye is on him with delight, and
then it shall be so on thee, being in him. Put
thy petitions into his hand, who is the great
Master of Requests; thou camst not doubt
that he hath access, and that he hath that ear
open to him, which thou thinkest shut to thee.
The exercise of prayer being so important,
and bearing so great a part in the life and
comfort of a Christian, it deserves to be very
seriously considered. We will therefore sub-
join some few considerations concerning it.
Prayer may be considered in a threefold
notion. 1. As a duty we owe to God. As it
is from him we expect and receive all, it is a
very reasonable homage and acknowledg-
ment, thus to testify the dependance of our
being and life on him, and the dependance
of our souls upon him, for being, and life, and
all good; that we be daily suiters before his
throne, and go to him for all. 2. As it consti-
tutes the dignity and the delight of a spiritual
mind, to have so near access unto God, and
such liberty to speak to him. 3. As a proper
and sure means, by divine appointment and
promise, of obtaining at the hands of God
those good things that are needful and con-
venient for us. And although some believers
of lower knowledge do not (it may be) so dis-
tinctly know, and others not so particularly
consider, all these in it, yet there is a latent
notion of them all in the heart of every godly
person, which stirs them and puts them on
to the constant use of prayer, and to a love
of it.
And as they are in these respects inclined
and bent to the exercise of prayer, the Lord's
ear is in like manner inclined to hear their
prayer in these respects. 1. He takes it well
at their hands, that they do offer it up as due
worship to him, that they desire thus as they
can to serve him. He accepts of those offer-
ings graciously, passes by the Imperfections
in them, and hath regard to their sincere in-
tention and desire. 2. It pleases him well
that they delight in prayer, as converse with
him; that they love to be much with him,
and to speak to him often, and still aspire, by
this way, to more acquaintance with him;
that they are ambitious of this. 3. He wil-
lingly hears their prayers as the expressions
of their necessities and desires; being both
rich and bountiful, he loves to have blessings
drawn out of his hands that way; as full
breasts delight to be drawn. The Lord's
treasure is always full, and therefore he is
always communicative. In the first respect,
prayer is acceptable to the Lord as incense
and sacrifice, as David desires, Ps. cxli. 12:
the Lord receives it as divine worship done
to him. In the second respect, prayer is as
the visits and sweet entertainment and dis-
course of friends together, and so is pleasing
to the Lord, as the free opening of the mind,
the pouring out of the heart to him, as it is
called, Psalm lxii. 8; and David, in Psalm v. 1,
calls it his words and his meditation ; the
word for that signifies discourse or conference.
And, in the third sense, the Lord receives
prayer as the suits of petitioners who are in
favor with him, and whom he readily accords
to. And this the word for supplication in the
original, and the word here rendered prayer,
and that rendered cry in the Psalm, do mean ;
and in that sense, the Lord's open ear and
hearkening hath in it his readiness to answer,
as one that doth hear, and to answer gracious-
ly and really, as hearing favorably.
I shall now add some directions : I. For
prayer, that it may be accepted and answered.
II. For observing the answers of it.
I. For prayer. 1. The qualification of the
heart that offers it. 2. The way of offering
it.
1. As to the qualification of the heart, it
must be in some measure, 1st, A holy heart,
according to that word here, the righteous.
There must be no regarding iniquity, no en-
tertaining of friendship with any sin, but a
permanent love and desire of holiness. Thus,
indeed, a man prays within himself, as in a
sanctified place, whether the Lord's ear in-
clines, as of old to the Temple. He needs not
run superstitiously to a church, &c. Intra te
ora, sed vide priils an sis templum Dei ; Pray
inwardly, but first see whether thou art thy-
self a temple of God. The sanctified man’s
body is the temple of the Holy Ghost, as the
apostle speaks, 1 Cor. vi. 19 ; and his soul is
the priest in it that offers sacrifice: both holy
to the Lord, consecrated to him. 2dly, It
must be a believing heart, for there is no
praying without this. Faith is the very life
of prayer, whence spring hope and comfort
with it, to uphold the soul, and keep it steady
under storms with the promises; and as Aaron
and Hur to Moses, keeping it from fainting,
strengthening the hands when they would
begin to fail. Such is the force of that word,
Psalm x. 17; for the preparing of the heart
which God gives as an assurance and pledge
of his inclining his ear to hear, signifies the
establishing of the heart ; that, indeed, is a
main point of its preparedness, and due dis-
position for prayer. Now this is done by
faith, without which, the soul, as the Apostle
St. James speaks, is a rolling unquiet thing,
as a wave of the sea, of itself unstable as the
waters, and then driven with the wind and
tossed to and fro with every temptation. See
and feel thine own unworthiness as much as
thou canst for thou art never bidden to believe
in thyself; no, but that is countermanded as
faith’s great enemy. But what hath thy
unworthiness to say against free promises of
grace, which are the basis of thy faith ? So
then believe, that you may pray: this is
WER. 12.]
233
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
David's advice, Psalm lxii. 8, Trust in him at
all times, ye people, and then, pour out your
hearts before him. Confide in him as a most
faithful and powerful friend, and then you
will open your hearts to him.
2. For the way of offering up prayer. It is
a great art, a main point of the secret of re-
ligion, to be skilled in it, and of great concern
for the comfort and success of it. Much is
here to be considered, but for the present take
these advices briefly. [1..] Offer not to speak
to him without the heart in some measure
seasoned and prepossessed with the sense of
his greatness and holiness. And there is much
in this; considering wisely to whom we speak,
the King, the Lord of glory, and setting the
soul before him, in his presence ; and then
reflecting on ourselves, and seeing what we
are, how wretched, and base, and filthy, and
unworthy of such access to so great a Majesty.
The want of this preparing of the heart to
speak in the Lord’s ear, by the consideration
of God and ourselves, is that which fills the
excuse of prayer with much guiltiness;
makes the heart careless, and slight and
irreverent, and so displeases the Lord, and
disappoints ourselves of that comfortin prayer,
and those answers of it, of which otherwise
we should have more experience. We rush
in before him with anything, provided we
can tumble out a few words; and do not weigh
these things, and compose our hearts with
serious thoughts and conceptions of God.
The Soul that studies and endeavors this most,
hath much to do to attain to any right ap-
prehensions of him (for how little know we of
him ') yet should we, at least, set ourselves
before him as the purest and greatest Spirit;
a being infinitely more excellent than our
minds or any creature can conceive. This
would fill the soul with awe and reverence,
and ballast it, so as to make it go more even
through the exercise; to consider the Lord,
as that prophet saw him, sitting on his thone,
and all the host of heaven standing by him, on
his right hand and on his left, 1 Kings xxii.
19, and thyself a defiled sinner coming before
him, velute palude suſi vilis ranuncula, as a
wile frog creeping out of some pool, as St.
Bernard expresses it: how would this fill thee
with holy fear ! Oh! his greatness and our
baseness, and Oh the distance This is
Solomon's advice: Be not rash with thy mouth,
and let not thy heart be hasty to utter any-
thing before God, for God is in heaven and
thou upon earth, therefore let thy words be
few. Eccl. v. 2. This would keep us from
our ordinary babblings, that heart-nonsense,
which, though the words be sense, yet through
the inattention of the heart, are but as imper-
tinent confused dreams in the Lord's ear; as
there it follows, ver. 3.
[2.] When thou addressest thyself to prayer,
desire and depend upon the assistance and in-
spiration of the Holy Spirit of God without
which thou art not able truly to pray. It is
a supernatural work, and therefore the princi-
ple of it must be supernatural. He that hath
nothing of the Spirit of God, can not pray at
all: he may howl as a beast in his necessity
or distress, or may speak words of prayer, as
some birds learn the language of men ; but
pray he can not. And they that have that
Spirit, ought to seek the movings and actual
workings of it in them in prayer, as the par-
ticular help of their infirmities, teaching both
what to ask (a thing which of ourselves we
know not), and then enabling them to ask,
breathing forth their desires in such sighs and
groans, as are the breath not simply of their
own, but of God's Spirit.
[3.]. As these two precautions are to be
taken before prayer, so, in the exercise of it,
you should learn to keep a watchful eye over
your own hearts throughout, for every step of
the way, that they start not out. And in order
to this, strive to keep up a continual remem-
brance of that presence of God, which in the
entry of the work, is to..be set before the eye
of the soul. And our endeavor ought to be to
fix it upon that view, that it turn not aside
nor downward, but from beginning to end
keep sight of him, who sees and marks whe-
ther we do so or no. They that art most in-
spective and watchful in this, will still be
faulty in it; but certainly the less watchful
the more faulty. And this we ought to do,
to be aspiring daily to more stability of mind
in prayer, and to be driving out somewhat
of that roving and wandering, which is so
universal an evil, and certainly so grievous,
not to those who have it most, but who
observe and discover it most and endeavor
most against it. A strange thing ! that the
mind, even the renewed mºnd should be so
ready, not only at other times, but in the
exercise of prayer, wherein we peculiarly
come so near to God, yet even then to slip
out and leave him, and fellow some poor
vanity or other instead of him Surely the
godly man, when he thinks on this, is exceed-
ingly ashamed of himself, can not tell what
to think of it. God is eacceeding joy, whom,
in his right thoughts, he seems so much above
the world and all things in it, yet to use him
thus !—when he is speaking to him, to break
off from that, and hold discourse, or change
a word with some base thought that steps in,
and whispers to him : or, at the best, not to
be steadfastly minding the Lord to whom he
speaks, and possessed with the regard of his
presence, and of his business and errand with
him.
This is no small piece of our misery here :
these wanderings are evidence to us, that we
are not at home. But though we should be
humbled for this, and still be laboring against
it, yet should we not be so discouraged, as to
be driven from the work. Satan would desire
no better than that ; it were to help him to
his wish. And sometimes a Christian may
be driven to think, “What shall I still do thus,
abusing my Lord's name, and the privilege
he hath given me? I had better leave off.”
30
284
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
No, not so by any means. Strive against the
miserable evil that is within thee, but cast
not away thy happiness. Be doing still. It
is a froward childish humor, when anything
agrees not to our mind, to throw all away.
Thou mayest come off, as Jacob, with halt-
ing from thy wrestlings, and yet obtain the
blessing for which thou wrestlest.
[...]. graces which are the due quali-
ties of the heart, disposing it for prayer in the
exercise of it, should be excited and acted, as
holiness, the love of it, the desire of increase
and growth of it, so, the humbling and melt-
ing of the heart, and chiefly faith, which is
mainly set on work in prayer, draw forth the
sweetness and virtues of the promises, teach-
ing us to desire earnestly their performance
to the soul, and to believe that they shall be
performed; to have before our eyes his good-
ness and faithfulness who hath promised, and
to rest upon that. And for success in prayer,
exercising faith in it, it is altogether necessa-
ry to interpose the Mediator, and to look
through him, and to speak and petition by
him, who warns us of this, that there is no
other way to speak: No man cometh to the
Father but by me. John xiv. 6. As the Jews,
when they prayed, looked toward the temple,
where was the mercy-seat, and the peculiar
presence of God [Shechinah], thus ought we
in all our praying to look on Christ, who is
our propitiatory, and in whom the fulness of
the Godhead dwells bodily. Col. ii. 9. The
forgetting of this, may be the cause of our
many disappointments.
[5.] Fervency; not to seek coldly: that
presages refusal. There must be fire in the
sacrifice, otherwise it ascends not. There is
no sacrifice without incense, and no incense
without fire. Our remiss, dead hearts, are
not likely to do much for the church of God,
nor for ourselves. Where are those strong
cries that should pierce the heavens 2 His
car is open to their cry. He hears the faint-
est, coldest prayer, but not with that delight
and propenseness to grant it; his ear is not
on it, as the word there is, Psalm lw. 17;
he takes no pleasure in hearing it; but cries,
heart-cries, Oh! these take his ear, and move
his bowels; for these are the voice, the cries
of his own children. A strange word of en-
couragement to importunity is that, Give him
no rest, Isa. lxii. 7; suffer him not to be in
quiet till he make Jerusalem a praise in the
earth. A few such suiters, in these times,
were worth thousands such as we are. Our
prayers stick in our breasts, scarcely come
forth ; much less do they go up and ascend
with that piercing force that would open up
the way for deliverances to come down.
But in this there must be some difference
between temporal and spiritual things. That
prayer which is in the right strain, can not
be too fervent in anything; but the desire of
the thing in temporals may he too earnest.
A feverish distempered heat diseases the
soul; therefore, in these things, a holy indif-
ferency concerning the particular may, and
should be, joined with the fervency of prayer.
But in spiritual things, there is no danger in
vehemency, of desire. Covet these, hunger
and thirst for them, be incessantly ardent in
the suit; yet even in these, in some particu-
lars (as with respect to the degree and meas-
ure of grace, and some peculiar furtherances),
they should be presented so with earnestness,
as that withal it be with a reference and res-
ignation of it to the wisdom and love of our
Father.
II. For the other point, the answer of our
prayers, which is implied in this openness of
the ear, it is a thing very needful to be con-
sidered and attended to. If we think that
prayer is indeed a thing that God takes no-
tice of, and hath regard to in his dealings
with his children, it is certainly a point of
duty and wisdom in them, to observe how
he takes notice of it, and bends his ear to it,
and puts his hand to help, and so answers it.
This both furnishes matter of praise, and stirs
up the heart to render it. Therefore, in the
Psalms, the hearing of prayer is so often ob-
served and recorded, and made a part of the
song of praise. And withal it endears both
God and prayer unto the soul, as we have
both together, Psalm crvi. 1, I love the Lord
because he hath heard my voice and my sup-
plications. The transposition in the original
is pathetical, I love, because the Lord hath
heard my voice. I am in love, and particu-
larly this causes it ; I have found so much
kindness in the Lord, that I can not but love.
He hath heard my voice. And then it wins
his esteems and affection to prayer. Seeing
I find this virtue in it, we shall never part
again; I will call upon him as long as I live.
Seeing prayer draweth help and favors from
heaven, I shall not be to seek for a way, in
any want or straight that can befall me.
In this there is need of direction ; but too
many rules may as much confuse a matter,
as too few, and do many times perplex the
mind and multiply doubts; as many laws do
multiply pleading. Briefly, then,
1. Slothful minds do often neglect the an-
swers of God, even when they are most legi-
ble in the grant of the very thing itself that
was desired. It may be through a total in-
advertence in this kind, through never think-
ing on things as answers of our requests: or
possibly, a continual eager pursuit of more,
turns away the mind from considering what
it hath upon request obtained; we are still so
bent upon what further we would have, that
we never think what is already done for us,
which is one of the most ordinary causes of
ingratitude. - e
2. But though it be not in the same thing that
we desire that our prayers are answered, yet,
when the Lord changes our petitions in his an-
swers, it is always for the better. He regards
(according to that known word of St. Augus-
time, Si non ad voluntatem ad utilitatem) out
well more than our will. We beg deliverance
WER. 12.]
235
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
we are not unanswered, if he give patience
and support. Be it under a spiritual trial or
temptation. , My grace is sufficient for thee.
And where the Lord doth thus, it is certainly
better for the time, than the other would be.
Observe here, His ears are open to the righ-
teous, but his eyes are on them too. They
have not so his ear as to induce him blindly
to give them what they ask, whether it be fit
or no ; but his eye is on them, to see and con-
sider their estate, and to know better than
themselves what is best, and accordingly to
answer. This is no prejudice, but a great
privilege, and the happiness of his children,
that they have a Father who knows what is
fit for them, and withholds no good from
them. And this commutation and exchange
of our requests a Christian observing, may
usually find out the particular answer of his
prayers; and if sometimes he doth not, then
his best way is not to subtilize and amuse
himself much in that, but rather to keep on
in the exercise, knowing (as the apostle
speaks in another case) this for certain, that
their labor shall not be in vain in the Lord,
1 Cor. xv. ult. ; and as the prophet hath it,
Isa. xlv. 19, He hath not said unto the house
of Jacob, seek ye me in vain.
3. Only this we should always remember,
not to set bounds and limits to the Lord in
point of time, not to set him a day, that thou
wilt attend so long and no longer. How pa-
tiently will some men bestow long attend-
ance on others, where they expect some very
poor good or courtesy at their hands ! Yet
we are very brisk and hasty with him who
never delays us but for our good, to ripen
those mercies for us which we, as foolish
children, would pluck while they are green,
and have neither that sweetness and good-
ness in them which they shall have in his
time. All his works are done in their sea-
son. Were there nothing to check our im-
patiences, but his greatness, and the great-
ness of those things we ask for, and our
own unworthiness, these considerations might
curb them, and persuade us how reasonable
it is that we should wait. He is a king well
worth waiting on ; and there is in the very
waiting on him, an honor and a happiness far
above us. And the things we seek are great;
forgiveness of sins, evidence of sonship and
heirship, heirship of a kingdom; and we
condemned rebels, born heirs of the bottom-
less pit ! And shall such as we be in such
haste with such a Lord in so great requests
But further, the attendance which this reason
enforces, is sweetened by the consideration
of his wisdom and love, that he hath foreseen
and chosen the very hour for each mercy fit
for us, and will not delay it a moment. Never
any yet repented their waiting, but found it
fully recompensed with the opportune an-
swer, in such a time as they were then forced
to confess was the only best. I waited pa-
tiently, says the Psalmist, in waiting I waited,
but it was all well bestowed, He inclined to
ºne and heard my cry, brought me up, &c.,
Psalm. xl. 1. And then he afterward falls
into admiration of the Lord's method, his
wonderful workings and thoughts to us-ward.
“While I was waiting and saw nothing, thy
thoughts were toward and for me, and thou
didst then work when thy goodness was most
remarkable and wonderful.”
When thou art in great affliction, outward
or inward, thou thinkest (it may be) he re-
gards thee not. Yea, but he doth. Thou
art his gold, he knows the time of refining
thee, and of then taking thee out of the fur-
nace; he is versed and skilful in that work.
Thou sayest, “I have cried long for power
against sin, and for some evidence of pardon,
and find no answer to either ;” yet leave him
not. He never yet cast away any that sought
him, and stayed by him, and resolved, what-
soever came of it, to lie at his footstool, and
to wait, were it all their lifetime, for a good
word or a good look from him. And they
choose well who make that their great desire
and expectation; for one of his good words
or looks will make them happy for ever; and
as he is truth itself, they are sure not to miss
of it. Blessed are all they that wait for him.
And thou that Sayest, thou canst not find par-
don of sin, and power against it ; yet con-
sider whence are those desires of both, which
thou once didst not care for. Why dost thou
hate that sin which thou didst love, and art
troubled and burdened with the guilt of it,
under which thou wentest so easily, and
which thou didst not feel before ? Are not
these something of his own work 2 Yes,
surely. And know he will not leave it un-
finished, nor forsake the work of his hands.
Psalm crxxviii. 8. His eye may be on thee,
though thou seest him not, and his ear open
to thy cry, though for the present he speaks
not to thee as thou desirest. It is not said,
that his children always see and hear him
sensibly; but yet, when they do not, he is
beholding them and hearing them graciously,
and will show himself to them, and answer
them seasonably. -
David says, Psalm xxii. 2, I cry in the day-
time, and thou hearest not, and in the night
season, and am not silent ; yet will he not
entertain hard thoughts of God, nor conclude
against him ; on the contrary, he acknowl-
edges, Thou art holy, ver. 3, where, by holi-
ness, is meant his faithfulness (I conceive) to
his own : as it follows, Thou that inhabitest
the praises of Israel, to wit, for the favors he
hath showed his people, as ver, 4, Our fa-
thers trusted in thee.
Let the Lord's open ear persuade us to
make much use of it. Clavis diei et sera
noctis : The key of day and the lock of night.
Be much in this sweet and fruitful exercise
of prayer, together and apart, under the
sense of these three considerations mentioned
above: the duty, the dignity, and the utility
of prayer.
1. The duty: It is due to the Lord to be
236
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
Worshipped and acknowledged thus, as the
fountain of good. How will men crouch and
bow one to another upon small requests; and
shall he only be neglected by the most, from
all have life and breath and all things 1 (as
the apostle speaks in his sermon, Acts xvii.
25). And then,
2. Consider the dignity of this, to be ad-
mitted into so near converse with the highest
majesty. Were there nothing to follow, no
answer at all, prayer pays itself in the excel-
lency of its nature, and the sweetness that
the soul finds in it. Poor wretched man, to
be admitted into heaven while he is on earth,
and there to come and speak his mind freely
to the Lord of heaven and earth, as his friend,
as his Father ' to empty all his complaints
into his bosom ; when wearied with the fol-
lies and miseries of the world, to refresh his
soul in his God. Where there is anything
of his love, this is a privilege of the highest
Sweetness; for they who love, find much de-
light in discoursing together, and count all
hours short, and think the day runs too fast,
that is so spent ; and they who are much in
this exercise, the Lord doth impart his secrets
much to them. See Psalm xxv. 14.
2. Consider again, it is the most profitable
exercise ; no lost time, as profane hearts
judge it, but only time gained. All blessings
attend this work. It is the richest traffic in
the world, for it trades with heaven, and
brings home what is most precious there.
And as holiness disposes to prayer, so prayer
befriends holiness, increases it much. Noth-
ing so refines and purifies the soul as frequent
prayer. If the often conversing with wise
men doth so teach and advance the soul in
wisdom, how much more then will converse
with God . This makes the soul despise the
things of the world, and in a manner makes
it divine ; winds up the soul from the earth,
acquainting it with delights that are infinitely
SW eeter.
The natural heart is full-stuffed with pre-
judices against the way of holiness, which
dissuade and detain it; and therefore the holy
Scriptures most fitly dwell much on this
point, asserting the true advantage of it to
the soul, and removing those mistakes which
it has in respect of that way.
Thus here, and to press it the more home,
verse 10, &c., the apostle, having used the
psalmist's words, now follows it forth in his
own, and extends what was said concerning
the particular way of meekness and love,
&c., in the general doctrine, to all the paths
of righteousness.
The main conclusion is, that happiness is
the certain consequent and fruit of holiness;
all good, even outward good, so far as it holds
good, and is not inconsistent with a higher
good. If we did believe this more, we should
feel it more, and so, upon feeling and experi-
ment, believe it more strongly. All the heavy
judgments we feel or fear, are they not the
fruit of our own ways, of profaneness, and
pride, and malice, and abounding ungodli-
mess? All cry out of hard times, evil days;
and yet, who is taking the right way to bet-
ter them ? Yea, who is not still helping to
make them worse? Are we not ourselves
the greatest enemies of our own peace 2
Who looks either rightly backward, reflect-
ing on his former ways, or rightly forward,
to direct better his way that is before him :
Who either says, What have I done 2 (as Jer.
viii. 6), or, What shall I do 2 (Acts xvi. 30).
And indeed, the one of these depends on the
other. Consilium futurum ea praeterito ve-
nit (SENECA): “Future determination springs
from the past.” I considered my ways, says
David, turned them over and over, as the
word is, and then I turned my feet unto thy
testimonies. Psalm crix. 59.
Are there any, for all the judgments fallen
on us, or that threaten us, returning a pace
with regret and hatred of sin, hastening unto
God, and mourning and weeping as they go,
bedeving each step with their tears ? Yea,
where is that newness of life that the word
has called for so long, and that now the
word and the rod together are so loudly cal-
ling for ? Who is more refraining his tongue
from evil, and his lips from guile; changing
oaths, and lies, and calumnies, into a new
language, into prayers, and reverend speak-
ing of God, and joining a suitable consonant
carriage 2 Who is eschewing evil and doing
good, laboring to be fertile in holiness, to
bring forth much fruit to God 2 This were
the way to see good days indeed ; this is the
way to the longest life, the only long life and
length of days, one eternal day : as St Au-
gustine comments on those words, One day
*n thy courts is better than a thousand, Psal.
lxxxiv. 10. Millia dierum desiderant homi-
nes, et multum volunt hic vivere ; contem-
nant millia dierum, desiderent unum, qui non
habet or tum et occasum, cut non cedit hester-
nus, guem non urget crastinus. “Men de-
sire thousands of days, and wish to live long
here: rather let them despise thousands of
days, and desire that one which hath neither
dawn nor darkening, to which no yesterday
gives place, which yields to no to-morrow.”
The reason added is above all exception, it
is supreme ; the eyes of the Lord, &c. If he
who made times and seasons, and commands
and forms them as he will, if he can give
good days, or make men happy, then the
only sure way to it must be the way of his
obedience; to be in the constant favor of the
great King, and still in his gracious thoughts;
to have his eye and his ear. . If this will
serve the turn (and if this do it not, I pray
you, what will ?) then the righteous man is
the only happy man, for the eyes of the Lord
are upon him, &c., Surer happy days may be
expected hence, than theirs who draw them
from the aspect of the stars; the eyes of the
Father of lights benignly beholding them,
the trine aspect of the blessed Trinity. The
love he carries to them, draws his eyes still
VER. 13.]
237
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
toward them ; there is no forgetting of them,
nor slipping of the fit season to do them
good: his mind, I may say, runs on that.
He sees how it is with them, and receives
their suits gladly, rejoicing to put favors up-
on them. He is their assured friend, yea, he
is their Father ; what then can they want }
Surely they can not miss of any good that his
love and power can help them to.
But his face is against them that do evil.]
So our happiness and misery are in his face,
his looks. Nothing so comfortable as his fa-
vorable face, nothing so terrible again as his
face—his anger, as the Hebrew word is often
taken, that signifies his face. And yet, how
many sleep sound under this misery ! . But
believe it, it is a dead and a deadly sleep ;
the Lord standing on terms of enmity with
thee, and yet thy soul at ease 1 Pitiful, ac-
cursed ease ! I regard not the differences of
your outward estate; that is not a thing
worth the speaking of. If thou be poor and
base, and in the world's eye but a wretch,
and withal under the hatred of God, as being
an impenitent, hardened sinner, those other
things are nothing ; this is the top, yea, the
total sum of thy misery. Or be thou beauti-
ful, or rich, or noble, or witty, or all these
together, or what thou wilt, yet, is the face
of the Lord against thee 3 Think, as thou
wilt, thy estate (splendida miseria) is not to
be envied, but lamented: I can not say,
much good do it thee, with all thy enjoy-
ments, for it is certain they can do thee no
good ; and if thou dost not believe this now,
the day is at hand wherein thou shalt be
forced to believe it, finding it then irrevoca-
bly true. If you will, you may still follow
the things of the world, walk after the lusts
of your own hearts, neglect God, and please
yourselves, but, as Solomon’s word is of
judgment, Eccl. ix. 9, Remember that the face
of the Lord is against thee, and in that judg-
ment he shall unveil it, and let thee see it
against thee. Oh, the most terrible of all
sights
The godly often do not see the Lord's fa-
vorable looks, while he is eying them; and
the wicked usually do not see nor perceive,
neither will believe that his face is against
them ; but, besides that the day of full dis-
covery is coming, the Lord doth sometimes
let both the one and the other know some-
what how he stands affected toward them.
In peculiar deliverances and mercies he tells
his own, that he forgets them not, but both
sees and hears them when they think he
does neither, after that loving and gracious
manner which they desire, and which is here
meant; and sometimes, he lets forth glances
of his bright countenance, darts in a beam
upon their souls that is worth more than
many worlds. And on the other side, he is
pleased sometimes to make it known that
his face is against the wicked, either by re-
markable outward judgments, which to them
are the vent of his just enmity against them.
or to some he speaks it more home in hor-
rors and affrights of conscience, which to
them are earnests and pledges of their full
misery, that inheritance of wo reserved, as
the joys and comforts of believers are, of their
inheritance of glory.
Therefore, if you have any belief of these
things, be persuaded, be entreated to forsake
the way of ungodliness. Do not flatter your-
selves and dream of escaping, when you hear
of outward judgments on your neighbors and
brethren, but tremble and be humbled. Re-
member our Savior’s words, Think ye that
those on whom the tower of Siloam fell, were
greater sinners than others ? I tell you, nay,
but eacept you repent, you shall all likewise
perish, Luke xiii. 4, 5. This seeming harsh
word, he who was wisdom and sweetness it-
self utttered, and even in it spoke like a Sa-
vior: he speaks of perishing, that they might
not perish, and presses repentance by the
heavy doom of impenitence.
When you hear of this, there is none of you
would willingly choose it, that the Lord's
face should be against you, although upon
very high offers made to you of other things.
You think, I know, that the very sound of it is
somewhat fearful, and on the other side, have
possibly some confused notion of his favor, as
a thing desirable; and yet do not bestir your-
selves, to avoid the one and inquire after the
other ; which is certainly by reason of your
unbelief. For if you think of the love of
God, as his word speaks of it, and as you
will say you do, whence is it, I pray you,
that there is no trifle in this world that will
not take more deeply with you, and which
you follow not with more earnestness, than
this great business of reconciliation, with
God, in order to your finding his face not
against you, but graciously toward you, His
eyes upon you, and his ears open to your
prayer.
our blessedness is not—no, believe it, it
is not where most of you seek it, in things
below you. How can that be 2 It must be
a higher good to make you happy. While
you labor and sweat for it in anything under
the sun, your pains run all to waste ; you
seek a happy life in the region of death.
Here, here it is alone, in the love and favor
of God, in having his countenance and friend-
ship, and free access and converse; and this
is nowhere to be found, but in the ways of
holiness.
VER. 13. And who is he that will harm you, if you
be followers of that which is good.
THIs the apostle adds, as a further reason
of the safety and happiness of that way he
points out, a reason drawn from its own na-
ture. There is something even intrinsical in
a meek, and upright, and holy carriage, that
is apt, in part, to free a man from many evils
and mischiefs which the ungodly are exposed
to, and do readily draw upon themselves.
Your spotless and harmless deportment will
238
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
much bind up the hands even of your ene-
mies, and sometimes, possibly, somewhat al-
lay and cool the malice of their hearts, that
they can not so rage against you as otherwise
they might. It will be somewhat strange
and monstrous to rage against the innocent.
Who is he that will harm you ? Here are two
º I. The carriage. II. The advantage
Of It.
I. Their carriage is expressed: followers
of that which is good. The Greek word is,
imitators.
There is an imitation of men that is impi-
ous and wicked, which consists in taking the
copy of their sins. Again, there is an imita-
tion which though not so grossly evil, yet is
poor and servile, being in mean things, yea,
sonetimes descending to imitate the very im-
perfections of others, as fancying some come-
liness in them ; as some of Basil's scholars,
who imitated his slow speaking, which he
had a little in the extreme, and could not
help. But this is always laudable, and wor-
thy of the best minds, to be imitators of that
which is good, wheresoever they find it; for
that stays not in any man's person, as the ul-
timate pattern, but rises to the highest grace,
being man's nearest likeness to God, his im-
age and resemblance (and so, following the
example of the saints in holiness, we look
higher than them, and consider them as re-
ceivers, but God as the first owner and dis-
penser of grace), bearing his stamp and su-
perscription, and belonging peculiarly to him,
in what hand soever it be found, as carrying
the mark of no other owner than him.
The word of God contains our copy in its
perfection, and very legible and clear; and
so, the imitation of good, in the complete
rule of it, is the regulating of our ways
by the word. But even there we find, be-
sides general rules, the particular tracks of
life of divers eminent holy persons, and
those on purpose set before us, that we may
know holiness not to be an idle, imaginary
thing, but that men have really been holy,
though not altogether sinless, yet, holy and
spiritual in some good measure; have shined
as lights amid a perverse generation, as
greater stars in a dark night, and were yet
n^n, as St. James says of Elias, like us in
nature (juovorabeto) and in the frailty of it: sub-
'ect to like passions as we are. James v. 17.
hy may we not then aspire to be holy as
they were, and attain to it?—although we
should fall short of the degree, yet not stop-
ping at a small measure, but running further,
pressing still forward toward the mark ; fol-
lowing them in the way they went, though
at a distance; not reaching them, and yet
walking, yea, running after them as fast as
we can ; not judging of holiness by our own
sloth and natural averseness, taking it for a
singularity fit only for rare extraordinary per-
sons, such as prophets and apostles were, or
as the church of Rome fancies those to be, to
whom it vouchsafes a room in the roll of
Saints. Do you not know that holiness is the
only via regia, this following of good the
path wherein all the children of God must
walk, one following after another, each stri-
ving to equal, and, if they could, to out-
strip even those they look on as most ad-
vanced in it? This is, among many others,
a misconceit in the Romish church, that they
seem to make holiness a kind of impropriate
good, which the common sort can have lit-
tle share in, almost all piety being shut up
within cloister-walls, as its only fit dwelling;
but it hath not liked their lodging, it seems;
it has flown over the walls away from them,
for there is little of it even there to be found.
Their opinion, however, places it there, as
having little to do abroad in the world ;
whereas, the truth is, that all Christians have
this for their common task, though some are
under more peculiar obligations to study this
One copy. Look on the rule of holiness, and
be followers of it, and followers or imitators
one of another, so far as their carriage agrees
with that primitive copy, as written after it.
Be ye followers of me, upºnrat, says the apos-
tle, even to the meanest Christians among
those he wrote to, but thus, as I am of Christ.
1 Cor. xi. 1.
It is thus with us? Are we zealous and
emulous followers of that which is good, ex-
citing each other by our example to a holy
and Christian conversation, provoking one an-
other (so the apostle's word is) to love and to
good works 2 Heb. x. 24. Or, are not the
most mutual corrupters of each other, and of
the places and societies where they live; some
leading, and others following, in their ungodli-
ness; not regarding the course of those who
are most desirous to walk holily, or, if at all,
doing it with a corrupt and evil eye, not in
order to study and follow what is good in
them, their way of holiness, but to espy any
the least wrong step, to take exact notice of
any imperfection or malignant slander, and
by this either to reproach religion, or to
hearten or harden themselves in their irreli-
gion and ungodliness, seeking warrant for
their own willing licentiousness in the un-
willing failings of God's children 2 And, in
their converse with such as themselves, they
are following their profane way, and flatter-
ing and blessing one another in it. “What
need we be so precise ?” And, “If I should
not do as others, they would laugh at me; I
should pass for a fool.” Well, thou wilt be
a fool of the most wretched kind, rather than
be accounted one by such as are fools, and
know not at all wherein true wisdom con-
SlStS.
Thus the most are carried with the stream
of this wicked world, their own inward cor-
ruption easily agreeing and suiting with it;
every man as a drop, falling into a torrent,
and easily made one, and running along with
it into that dead sea where it empties itself.
But those whom the Lord hath a purpose
to sever and save, he carries in a course con-
WER. 13.]
239
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
trary even to that violent stream. And these
are the students of holiness, the followers of
ood, who bend their endeavors thus, and
ook on all sides diligently, on what may ani-
mate and advance them ; on the example of
the saints in former times, and on the good
they espy in those who live together with
them ; and above all, studying that perfect
rule in the Scriptures, and that highest and
first pattern there so often set before them,
even the author of that rule, the Lord him-
self, to be holy as he is holy, to be bountiful
and merciſul us their heavenly Father, and in
all laboring to be, as the apostle exhorts, fol-
lowers of God as dear children. Eph. v. 1, 2.
[TéAos dw896mov duoiaoto Béâ, says §.
Children who are beloved of their father, an
do love and reverence him, will be ambitious
to be like him, and particularly aim at the
following of any virtues or excellency in him.
Now, thus it is most reasonable that it should
be in the children of God, their Father being
the highest and best of all excellency and
perfection.
But this excellent pattern is drawn down
nearer their view, in the Son Jesuſ's Christ :
where we have that highest example made
low, and yet losing nothing of its perfection,
so that we may study God in man, and read
all our lesson, without any blot, even in our
own nature. And this is truly the only way
to be the best proficients in this following and
imitating of all good. In him we may learn
all, even those lessons which men most de-
spise, God teaching them by acting them, and
calling us to follow : Learn of me, for I am
meek and lowly in heart. Matt. xi. 29. But
this is too large a subject. Would you ad-
vance in all grace? Study Christ much, and
you shall find not only the pattern in him, but
strength and skill from him to follow it.
II. The advantage; Who is he that will
harm you ?
The very name of it says so much ; it is a
good, worthy the following for itself. But
there is this further to enforce it, that, be-
sides higher benefit, it oftentimes cuts off the
occasions of present evils and disturbances,
which otherwise are incident to men. Who
is he that will harm you ? Men, evil men,
will often be overcome by our blameless and
harmless behavior.
1. In the life of a godly man, taken to-
gether in the whole body and frame of it,
there is a grave beauty or comeliness, which
oftentimes forces some kind of reverence and
respect to it, even in ungodly minds.
2. Though a natural mind can not love
them spiritually, as graces of the spirit of
God (for so only the partakers of them are
loyers of them), yet he may have, and usu-
ally hath, a natural liking and esteem of
Some kind of virtues which are in a Christian,
and are not, in their right nature, to be found
in any other, though a moralist may have
somewhat like them; meekness, and patience,
and charity, and fidelity, &c.
3. These, and other such like graces, do
make a Christian life so inoffensive and calm,
that, except where the matter of their God or
religion is made the crime, malice itself can
scarcely tell where to fasten its teeth or lay
hold ; it hath nothing to pull by, though it
would, yea, oftentimes, for want of work or
occasions, it will fall asleep for a while.
Whereas ungodliness and iniquity, sometimes
by breaking out into notorious crimes, draws
out the sword of civil justice, and where it
rises not so high, yet it involves men in fre-
quent contentions and quarrels. Prov. xxiii.
29. How often are the lusts and pride, and
covetousness of men, paid with dangers and
troubles, and vexation, which, besides what
is abiding them hereafter, do even in this
present life spring out of them These, the
godly pass free of by their just, and mild, and
humble carriage. Whence so many jars and
striſes among the greatest part, but from
their unchristian hearts and lives, from their
lusts that war in their members, as St. James
says, their self-love and unmortified passions?
One will abate nothing of his will, nor the
other of his. . Thus, where pride and passion
meet on both sides, it can not be but a fire
will be kindled ; when hard flints strike to-
gether, the sparks will fly about: but a soft,
mild spirit is a great preserver of its own
peace, kills the power of contest; as wool-
packs, or such like soft matter, most deaden
the force of bullets. A soft answer turns
away wrath, says Solomon, Prov. xv. 1, beats
it off, breaks the bone, as he says, the very
strength of it, as the bones are of the body.
And thus we find it, those who think
themselves high-spirited, and will bear least,
as they speak, are often, even by that, forced
to bow most, or to burst under it; while hu-
mility and meekness escape many a burden,
and many a blow, always keeping peace
within, and often without too.
Reflection 1. If this were duly considered,
might it not do somewhat to induce your
minds to love the way of religion, for that it
would so much abate the turbulency and
unquietness that abound in the lives of men,
a great part whereof the most do procure by
the earthliness and distemper of their own
carnal minds, and the disorder in their ways
that arises thence 2
Reflection 2. You whose hearts are set
toward God, and your feet entered into his
ways, I hope will find no reason for a change,
but many reasons to commend and endear
those ways to you every day more than the
last, and, among the rest, even this, that in
them you escape many even present mis-
chiefs which you see the ways of the world
are full of And, if you will be careful
to ply your rule and study your copy bet-
ter, you shall find it more so. The more you
follow that which is good, the more shall you
avoid a number of outward evils, which are
ordinarily drawn upon men by their own
enormities and passions. Keep as close as
*s
240
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
you can to the genuine, even track of a
Christian walk, and labor for a prudent and
meek behavior, adorning your holy profes-
sion, and this shall adorn you, and sometimes
gain those that are without, yea, even your
enemies shall be constrained to approve it.
It is well known how much the spotless
lives and patient sufferings of the primitive
Christians did sometimes work upon their
beholders, yea, on their persecutors, and per-
suaded some who would not share with them
in their religion, yet to speak and write on
their behalf. Seeing, then, that reason and
experience do jointly aver it, that the lives of
men conversant together have generally a
great influence one upon another (for exam-
ple is an animated or living rule, and is both
the shortest and most powerful way of teach-
ing)—
[1..] Whosoever of you are in an exem-
plary or leading place in relation to others,
be it many or few, be ye, first, followers of
God. Set before you the rule of holiness,
and withal the best and highest examples of
those who have walked according to it, and
then you will be leading in it those who are
under you, and they being bent to follow you,
in so doing will follow that which is good.
Lead and draw them on, by admonishing, and
counselling, and exhorting; but especially, by
walking. Pastors, be [römot] ensamples to
the flock, or models, as our apostle hath it, 1
Peter v. 3, that they may be stamped aright,
taking the impression of your lives. Sound
doctrine alone will not serve. Though the
water you give your flocks be pure, yet, if
you lay spotted rods before them, it will bring
forth spotted lives in them. Either teach not
at all, or teach by the rhetoric of your lives.*
Elders, be such in grave and pious carriage,
whatsoever be your years; for young men
may be so, and, possibly, gray hairs may have
nothing under them but gaddishness and folly
many years old—habituated and inveterate un-
godliness. Parents and masters, let your chil-
dren and servants read in your lives the life
and power of godliness, the practice of piety,
not lying in your windows or corners of your
houses, and confined within the clasp of the
book bearing that or any such like title, but
shining in your lives.
[2.] You that are easily receptive of the
impression of example, beware of the stamp
of unholiness, and of a carnal, formal course
of profession, whereof the examples are most
abounding; but, though they be fewer who
bear the lively image of God impressed on
their hearts and expressed in their actions,
yet study these, and be followers of them, as
they are of Christ. I know you will espy
much irregular and unsanctified carriage in us
who are set up for the ministry, and if you
look round, you will find the world lying in
wickedness; yet if there be any who have any
sparks of Divine light in them, converse with
those, and follow them.
* H un ötöáaketv, * 8téâaretv rá rpárð.
[3.] And, generally, this I say to all (for
none are so complete but they may espy some
imitable and emulable good, even in meaner
Christians), acquaint yourselves with the
word, the rule of holiness; and then, with an
eye to that, look on one another, and be zeal-
ous of progress in the ways of holiness.
Choose to converse with such as may excite
you and advance you, both by their advice
and example. Let not a corrupt generation
in which you live, be the worse by you, nor
you the worse by it. As far as you necessa-
rily engage in some conversation with those
who are unholy, let them not pull you into
the mire, but, if you can, help them out.
And let not any custom of sin prevailing about
you, by being familiarly seen, gain upon you,
so as to think it fashionable and comely, yea,
or so as not to think it deformed and hateful.
Know, that you must row against the stream
of wickedness in the world, unless you would
be carried with it to the dead sea, or lake of
perdition. Take that grave counsel given,
Rom. xii. 2: Be not conformed to this world,
but be ye transformed by the renewing of your
mind ; that is, the daily advancement in reno-
vation, purifying and refining every day.
Now, in this way you shall have sweet in-
ward peace and joy, as well as some outward
advantage, in that men, except they are mon-
strously cruel and malicious, will not so read-
ily harm you ; it will abate much of their
rage. But, however, if you do not escape
suffering by your holy carriage, yea, if you
suffer even for it, yet in that are you happy
(as the apostle immediately adds):—
VER. 14. But and if you suffer for righteousness sake,
happy are ye; and be not afraid of their terror,
neither be troubled.
IN this verse are two things: First, Even
in the most blameless way of a Christian, his
suffering is supposed. Secondly, His happi-
ness, even in suffering, is asserted.
I. Suffering is supposed, notwithstanding
righteousness, yea, for righteousness ; and
that, not as a rare unusual accident, but as
the frequent lot of Christians; as Luther calls
Persecution, malus genius Evangelii, The evil
genius of the gospel. And we, being fore.
warned of this, as not only the possible, but
the frequent lot of the saints, ought not to
hearken to the false prophecies of our own
self-love, which divines what it would gladly
have, and easily persuades us to believe it.
Think not that any prudence will lead you by
all oppositions and malice of an ungodly
world. Many winter blasts will meet you in
the most inoffensive way of religion, if you
keep straight to it. Suffering and war with
the world, is a part of the godly man's portion
here, which seems hard, but take it altogeth-
er, it is sweet: none in their wits will refuse
that legacy entire, In the world ye shall have
trouble, but in me ye shall have peace. John
xvi. ult.
Look about you, and see if there be any es-
WER. 14.]
241
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
tate of man, or course of life, exempted from
troubles. The greatest are usually subject to
greatest vexations; as the largest bodies have
the largest shadows attending them. We need
not tell nobles and rich men that contentment
doth not dwell in great palaces and titles, nor
in full coffers ; they feel it, that they are not
free of much anguish and molestation, and
that a proportionable train of cares, as con-
stantly as of servants, follows great place and
wealth. Riches and trouble, or noise, are
signified by the same Hebrew word. Com-
pare Job xxxvi. 19, with xxx. 24. And kings
find that their crowns, which are set so richly
with diamonds without, are lined with thorns
within. And if we speak of men who are ser-
vants to unrighteousness, beside what is to
come, are they not often forced to suffer,
among the service of their lusts, the distem-
pers that attend unhealthy intemperance, the
#. that dogs luxury at the heels, and the
t punishment of voluptuous persons in pain-
ful diseases, which either quickly cut the
thread of life, or make their aged bones full
of the sins of their youth 2 Job xx. 11. Take
what way you will, there is no place or con-
dition so fenced and guarded, but public ca-
lamities, or personal griefs, find a way to
reach us.
Seeing, then, we must suffer, whatever
course we take, this kind of suffering, to suf.
fer for righteousness, is far the best. What
Julius Caesar said ill of doing ill, Si violandum
est ſus, regnamdi causa violandum, we may
well say of suffering ill : “If it must be, it is
best to be for a kingdom.” And these are the
terms on which Christians are called to suffer
for righteousness: If we will reign with Christ,
certain it is, we must suffer with him ; and, if
we do suffer with him, it is as certain we shall
reign with him. 2 Tim. ii. 12. And therefore
such sufferers are happy.
But I shall prosecute this suffering for righ-
teousness, only with relation to the apostle's
present reasoning. His conclusion he estab-
lishes, 1. From the favor and protection of
God; 2. From the nature of the thing itself.
Now we would consider the consistence of
this supposition with those reasons.
1st. From the favor or protection of God.
The eyes of the Lord being on the righteous
for their good, and his ear open to their prayer,
how is it that, notwithstanding all this favor
and inspection, they are so much exposed to
suffering, and even for the regard and affec-
tion they bear toward him, suffering for
righteousness 2 These seem not to agree
well; yet they do.
It is not said that his eye is so on them, as
that he will never see them afflicted, nor
have them suffer anything ; no, but this is
their great privilege and comfort in suffering,
that his gracious eye is then upon them, and
sees their trouble, and his ear toward them,
not so as to grant them an exemption (for
that they will not seek for), but seasonable
deliverance, and, in the meanwhile, strong
support, as is evident in that xxxivth Psalm.
If his eye be always on them, he sees them
suffer often, for their afflictions are many (v.
19), and if his ear be to them, he hears many
sighs and cries pressed out by sufferings, And
they are content; this is enough, yea, better
than not to suffer; they suffer, and often di-
rectly for him, but he sees it all, takes perfect
notice of it, therefore it is not lost. And they
are forced to cry, but none of their cries es-
cape his ear. He hears, and he manifests
that he sees and hears, for he delivers them ;
and, till he does, he keeps them from being
crushed under the weight, of the suffering :
he keeps all his bones, not one of them is
broken (ver. 20). He sees, yea, appoints and
provides these conflicts for his choicest ser-
wants. He sets his champions to encounter
the malice of Satan and the world, for his
sake, to give proof of the truth and the
strength of their love to him for whom they
suffer, and to overcome even in suffering.
He is sure of his designed advantages out
of the sufferings of his church and of his saints
for his name. He loses nothing, and they
lose nothing ; but their enemies, when they
ragé most, and prevail most, are ever the
greatest losers. His own glory grows, the
graces of his people grow, yea, their very
number grows, and that sometimes most by
their greatest sufferings. This was evident
in the first ages of the Christian church,
Where were the glory of so much invincible
love and patience, if they had not been so put
to lt . . .
2dly. For the other argument, that the said
following of good would preserve from harm,
it speaks truly the nature of the thing, what
it is apt to do, and what, in some measure, it
often doth ; but considering the nature of the
world, its enmity against God and religion.
that strong poison in the serpent’s seed, it is
not strange that it often proves otherwise ;
that, notwithstanding the righteous carriage
of Christians, yea, even because of it, they
suffer much. It is a resolved case. All that
will live godly, must suffer persecution, 2
Tim. iii. 12. It meets a Christian in his en-
trance to the way of the Kingdom, and goes.
along all the way. No Sooner canst thou be-
gin to seek the way to heaven, but the world
will seek how to vex and molest thee, and
make that way grievous; if no other way,
by scoffs and taunts, intended as bitter blasts
to destroy the tender blossom or bud of reli-
gion, or, as Herod, to kill Christ newly-born.
You shall no sooner begin to inquire after
God, but, twenty to one, they will begin to
inquire whether thou art gone mad. But if
thou knowest who it is whom thou hast trusted.
and whom thou lovest, this is a small matter.
What though it were deeper and sharper suf-
ferings, yet still, if you suffer for righteous-
ness, happy are you.
Which is the IId thing that was proposed,
and more particularly imports, 1. That a
Christian under the heaviest load of sufferings
1
242
[CHAP III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
for righteousness, is yet still happy, notwith-
standing those sufferings. 2. That he is hap-
pier even by those sufferings. And,
1. All the sufferings and distresses of this
world are not able to destroy the happiness
of a Christian, nor to diminish it; yea, they
can not at all touch it; it is out of their reach.
If it were built on worldly enjoyments, then
worldly privations and sufferings might shake
it, yea, might undo it: when those rotten
props fail, that which rests on them must fall.
He that hath set his heart on his riches, a few
hours can make him miserable. He that
lives on popular applause, it is almost in any-
body's power to rob him of his happiness; a
little slight or disgrace undoes him. Or,
whatsoever the soul fixes on of these moving
unfixed things, pluck them from it, and it
must cry after them, Ye have taken away my
gods. But the believer's happiness is safe,
out of the reach of shot. He may be impov-
erished, and imprisoned, and tortured, and
killed, but this one thing is out of hazard: he
can not be miserable; still, in the midst of all
these, he subsists a happy man. If all friends
be shut out, yet the visits of the Comforter
may be frequent, bringing him glad tidings
from heaven, and communing with him of the
love of Christ and solacing him in that. It
was a great word for a heathen to say of his
false accusers, Kill me they may, but they can
not hurt me. . How much more confidently
may the Christian say so | Banishment he
fears not, for his country is above; nor death,
for that sends him home into that country.
The believing soul having hold of Jesus
Christ, can easily despise the best and the
worst of the world, and defy all that is in it;
can share with the apostle in that defiance
which he gives: I am persuaded that neither
death nor life shall separate me from the love
of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord,
Rom. viii. ult. Yea, what though the frame
of the world were a dissolving, and falling to
pieces ! This happiness holds, and is not
stirred by it; for it is built upon that Rock of
eternity, that stirs not, nor changes at all.
Our main work, truly, if you will believe
it, is this; to provide this immoveable happi-
mess, which amid all changes, and losses, and
sufferings, may hold firm. You may be free,
choose it rather—not to stand to the courtesy
of anything about you, nor of any man, wheth-
er enemy or friend, for the tenure of your
happiness. Lay it higher and surer, and if
you be wise, provide such a peace as will re-
main untouched in the hottest flame, such a
light as will shine in the deepest dungeon,
and such a life as is safe even in death itself,
that life which is hid with Christ in God.
Col. iii. 3.
But if in other sufferings, even the worst
and saddest, the believer is still a happy man
then, more especially in those that are the
best kind, sufferings for righteousness. Not
; do they not detract from his happiness,
ut,
2. They concur and give accession to it; he
is happy even so by suffering. As will appear
from the following considerations.
[1..] It is the happiness of a Christian, until
he attain perfection, to be advancing toward
it: to be daily refining from sin, and growing
richer and stronger in the graces that make
up a Christian, a new creature ; to attain a
higher degree of patience and meekness, and
humility; to have the heart more weaned
from the earth and fixed on heaven. Now,
as other afflictions of the saints do help them
in these, their sufferings for righteousness,
the unrighteous and injurious dealings of the
world with them have a particular fitness for
this purpose. Those trials that come imme-
diately from God’s own hand, seem to bind
to a patient and humble compliance, with
more authority, and (I may say) necessity ;
there is no plea, no place for so much as a
word, unless it be directly and expressly
against the Lord’s own dealing; but unjust
suffering at the hands of men, requires that
respect unto God (without whose hand they
can not move), that for his sake, and for rev-
erence and love to him, a Christian can go
through those with that mild evenness of spirit
which overcomes even in suffering.
And there is nothing outward more fit to
persuade a man to give up with the world
and its friendship, than to feel much of its
enmity and malice, and that directly venting
itself against religion, making that the very
quarrel, which is of all things dearest to a
Christian, and in the highest esteem with
him.
If the world should caress them, and smile
on them, they might be ready to forget their
home, or at least to abate in the frequent
thoughts and fervent desires of it, and to turn
into some familiarity with the world, and fa-
Vorable thoughts of it, so as to let out some-
what of their hearts after it; and thus, grace
would grow faint by the diversion and calling
forth of the spirits: as in summer, in the
hottest and fairest weather, it is with the
body.
It is an observation confirmed by the expe-
rience of all ages, that when the church flour-
ished most in outward peace and wealth, it
abated most of its spiritual lustre, which is
its genuine and true beauty, opibus major,
virtutibus minor ; and when it seemed most
miserable by persecutions and sufferings, it
Was most happy in sincerity, and zeal, and
vigor of grace. When the moon shines bright-
est toward the earth, it is dark heavenward ;
and, on the contrary, when it appears not, it
is nearest the sun, and clear toward heaven.
[2.] Persecuted Christians are happy in
acting and evidencing, by those sufferings for
God, their love to him. Love delights in dif-
ficulties, and grows in them. The more a
Christian suffers for Christ, the more he loves
him, and accounts him the dearer; and the
more he loves him, still the more can he suf-
fer for him.
WER. 14.]
243
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
[3.] They are happy, as in testifying love
to Christ and glorifying him, so in their con-
formity with him, which is love's ambition.
Love affects likeness and harmony at any
rate. A believer would readily take it as an
affront, that the world should be kind to him,
that was so harsh and cruel to his beloved
Lord and master. Canst thou expect, or
wouldst thou wish, smooth language from
that world which reviled thy Jesus—which
called him Beelzebub 2 Couldst thou own
and accept friendship at its hands, which
buffeted him, and shed his blood 2 Or,
art thou not, rather, most willing to share
with him, and of St. Paul's mind, an ambas-
sador in chains 3 [[Igeaftāua, ëv d'Ajget] God forbid
that I should glory in anything save in the
cross of Christ, whereby the world is crucified
unto me, and I unto the world, Gal. vi. 14.
[4.] Suffering Christians are happy in the
rich supplies of spiritual comfort and joy,
which in those times of suffering are usual;
so that as their sufferings for Christ do
abound, their consolations in him abound
Żmuch more, as the apostle testifies, 2 Cor. i. 5.
God is speaking most peace to the soul when
the world speaks most war and enmity against
it ; and this compensates abundantly. When
the Christian lays the greatest sufferings men
can inflict in the one balance, and the least
glances of God's countenance in the other, he
says, it is worth all the enduring of those to
enjoy this: he says with David, Psalm ciz.
28, Lel them curse, but bless thou : let them
frown, but smile thou. And thus God usu-
ally doth ; he refreshes such as are prisoners
for him, with visits which they would gladly
buy again with the hardest restraints and de-
barring of nearest friends. The world can
not but misjudge the state of suffering Chris-
tians; it sees, as St. Bernard speaks, their
crosses, but not their anointings: vident cruces
nostras, unctiones non vident.
phen, think you, in a happy posture even in
his enemies’ hands 2 Was he afraid of the
showers of stones coming about his ears, who
saw the heavens, opened, and Jesus standing
on the Father's right hand, so little troubled
with their stoning of him, that, as the text
hath it, in the midst of them he fell asleep 2
Acts vii. 60.
[5.] If those sufferings be so small, that
they are weighed down even by present com-
forts, and so the Christian be happy in them
in that regard, how much more doth the
weight of glory that follows surpass these
sufferings! They are not worthy to come in
comparison, they are as nothing to that glory
that shall be revealed, in the apostle's arith-
metic ; Rom. viii. 18 [Xoyiſopal], when I have
cast up the sum of the sufferings of this
present time, this instant now [rd viv), they
amount to just nothing in respect of that glory.
Now, these sufferings are happy, because they
are the way to this happiness, and pledges of
it, and, if anything can do, they raise the very
degree of it. However, it is an exceeding ea-
Was not Ste-
cellent weight of glory. The Hebrew word
which signifies glory, signifies weight. Earth-
ly glories are all too light, rö Aabody, except
in the weight of the cares and sorrows that
attend them; but that hath the weight of
complete blessedness. Speak not of all the
sufferings, nor of all the prosperities of this
poor life, nor of anything in it, as worthy of
a thought, when that glory is named ; yea,
let not this life be called life, when we men-
tion that other life, which our Lord, by his
death, hath purchased for us.
Be not afraid of their terror.] No time,
nor place in the world, is so favorable to re-
ligion, that it is not still needful to arm a
Christian mind against the outward opposi-
tions and discouragements he shall meet with
in his way to heaven. This is the apostle's
scope here ; and he doth it, 1st, by an asser-
tion ; 2d/y, by an exhortation: The assertion,
that, in suffering for righteousness, they are
happy; the exhortation, agreeably to the as-
sertion, that they fear not. Why should they
fear anything, who are assured of happiness,
yea, who are the more happy by reason of
those very things that seem most to be
feared 2
The words are in part borrowed from the
Prophet Isaiah, who relates them as the
Lord's words to him and other godly persons
with him in that time, countermanding in
them that carnal distrustful fear which drove
a profane king and people to seek help ra-
ther any where than in God, who was their
strength : Fear not their fear, nor be afraid ;
but sanctify the Lord of hosts himself, and
let him be your fear, and let him be your
dread. Isa. viii. 12, 13. This the apostle ex-
tends as a universal rule for Christians in the
midst of their greatest troubles and dangers.
The things opposed here, are, a perplexing,
troubling fear of sufferings, as the soul's dis-
temper, and a sanctifying of God in the heart,
as the sovereign cure of it, and the true prin-
ciple of a healthful, sound constitution of
mind.
Natural fear, though not evil in itself, yet,
in the natural man, is constantly irregular and
disordered in the actings of it, still missing
its due object, or measure, or both ; either
running in a wrong channel, or overrunning
the banks. As there are no pure elements to
be found here in this lower part of the world,
but only in the philosophers’ books (who de-
fine them as pure, but they find them so no-
where), thus we may speak of our natural
passions, as not sinful in their nature, yet in
us who are naturally sinful, yea, full of sin,
they can not escape the mixture and alloy
of it.
Sin hath put the soul into universal disor-
der, so that it neither loves nor hates what it
Qught, nor as it ought ; hath neither right
joy, nor sorrow, nor hope, nor fear. A very
small matter stirs and troubles it; and as wa-
ters that are stirred (so the word [rapax6ire]
signifies), having dregs in the bottom, become
244
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
muddy and impure, thus the soul, by carnal
fear, is confused, and there is neither quiet
nor clearness in it. A troubled sea, as it can
not rest, so, in its restlessness, it casts up mire,
as the prophet speaks, Isa. lvii. 20. Thus it
is with the unrenewed heart of man : the
least blasts that arise, disturb it and make it
restless, and its own impurity makes it cast
up mire. Yea, it is never right with the nat-
ural man : either he is asleep in carnal confi-
dence, or, being shaken out of that, he is hur-
ried and tumbled to and fro with carnal fears:
he is either in a lethargy, or in a fever, or trem-
bling with ague. When troubles are at a
distance, he is ready to fold his hands, and
take his ease, as long as it may be ; and then,
being surprised when they come rushing on
him, his sluggish ease is paid with a surcharge
of perplexing and affrighting fears. And is
not this the condition of the most 2
Now, because these evils are not fully cured
in the believer, but he is subject to carnal se-
curity (as David, I said in my prosperity, I
shall never be moved), and he is filled with
undue fears and doubts in the apprehensions
or feeling of trouble (as the psalmist likewise
complaining, confesses the dejection and dis-
quietness of his soul, and again, that he had
almost lost his standing, My feet had well
slipped), therefore it is very needful to cau-
tion them often with such words as these,
Fear not their fear, neither be ye troubled.
You may take it objectively, their fear: Be
not afraid of the world's malice, or anything it
can effect. Or it may be taken subjectively, as
the prophet means: Do not you fear after the
manner of the world; be not distrustfully
troubled with any affliction that can befall you.
Surely it is pertinent in either sense, or in
both together: Fear not what they can do,
nor fear as they do.
If we look on the condition of men, our-
selves and others, are not the minds of the
greatest part continually tossed, and their
lives worn out between vain hopes and fears,”
providing incessantly new matter of disquiet
to themselves 2
Contemplative men have always taken no-
tice of this grand malady in our nature, and
have attempted in many ways the cure of it,
have bestowed much pains in seeking out
prescriptions and rules for the attainment of
a settled tranquillity of spirit, free from the
fears and troubles that perplex us; but they
have proved but mountebanks, who give big
words enough, and do little or nothing—all
physicians of no value, or of nothing, good for
nothing, as Job speaks. Job xiii. 4. Some
things they have said well concerning the
outward causes of the inward evil, and of the
inefficacy of inferior outward things to help it;
but they have not descended to the bottom
and inward cause of this our wretched un-
quiet condition ; much less have they ascend-
ed to the true and only remedy of it. In this,
* Hac inter dubii vivimus et morimur.
Divine light is needful, and here we have it
in the following verse:-
VER. 15. But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts;
and be ready always to give an answer to every
man that asketh you, a reason of the hope that is
in you, with meekness and fear.
IMPLYING the cause of all our fears and
troubles to be this, our ignorance and disre-
gard of God; and the due knowledge and ac-
knowledgment of him, to be the only estab-
lishment and strength of the mind.
In the words we may consider these three
things: 1. This respect of God, as it is here
expressed, Sanctify the Lord God. 2. The
seat of it, In your hearts. 3. The fruit of it,
the power that this sanctifying of God in the
heart hath, to rid that heart of those fears
and troubles to which it is here opposed as
their proper remedy.
Sanctify the Lord God.] He is holy, most
holy, the fountain of holiness. It is he, he
alone, who powerfully sanctifies us, and then,
and not º then, we sanctify him. When
he hath made us holy, we know and confess
him to be holy, we worship and serve our
holy God, we glorify him with our whole
souls and all our affections. We sanctify
him by acknowledging his greatness and
power, and goodness, and (which is here
more particularly intended) we do this by a
holy fear of him, and faith in him. These
within us confess his greatness, and power,
and goodness: as the prophet is express, Sanc-
tify him, and let him be your fear and your
dread, Isa. viii. 13; and then he adds, If
thus you sanctify him, you shall further sanc-
tify him. He shall be your sanctuary : you
shall account him so, in believing in him,
and shall find him so, in his protecting you ;
you shall repose on him for safety. And
these particularly cure the heart of undue
fears.
In your hearts.] We are to be sanctified
in our words and actions, but primarily in
our hearts, as the root and principle of the
rest. He sanctifies his own throughout,
makes their language and their lives holy,
but first, and most of all, their hearts. And
as he chiefly sanctifies the heart, it chiefly
Sanctifies him ; acknowledges and worships
him often when the tongue and body do not,
and possibly can not well join with it: it fears,
and loves, and trusts in him, which properly
the outward man can not do, though it does
follow and is acted on by these affections, and
so shares in them according to its capacity.
Beware of an external, superficial sanctify-
ing of God, for he accepts it not ; he will in-
terpret that a profaning of him and his name.
Be not deceived, God is not mocked. Gal. vi. 7.
He looks through all visages and appearan-
ces, in upon the heart; sees how it entertains
him, and stands affected to him ; whether it
be possessed with reverence and love, more
than either thy tongue or carriage can ex-
press. And if it be not so, all thy seemi
worship is but injury, and thy speaking o
WER. 15.]
245
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
him is but babbling, be thy discourse never
so excellent; yea, the more thou hast seemed
to sanctify God, while thy heart hath not
been chief in the business, thou shalt not, by
such service, have the less, but the more fear
and trouble in the day of trouble, when it
comes upon thee. No estate is so far off
from true consolation, and so full of horrors,
as that of the rotten-hearted hypocrite: his
rotten heart is sooner shaken to pieces than
any other. If you would have heart-peace in
God, you must have this heart-sanctifying of
him. It is the heart that is vexed and trou-
bled with fears, the disease is there; and if
the prescribed remedy reach not thither, it
will do no good. Butlet your hearts sanctify
him, and then he shall fortify and establish
your hearts.
This sanctifying of God in the heart, com-
poses the heart, and frees it from fears.
First, In general, the turning of the heart
to consider and regard God, takes it off from
those vain, empty, windy things, that are the
usual causes and matter of its fears. It feeds
on wind, and therefore the bowels are tor-
mented within. The heart is subject to dis-
turbance, because it lets out itself to such
things, and lets in such things into itself, as
are ever in motion, and full of instability and
restlessness; and so, it can not be at quiet,
till God come in and cast out these, and keep
the heart within, that it wander out no more
to them.
Secondly, Fear and faith in the believer,
more particularly in this.
1. That fear, as greatest, overtops and nul-
lifies all lesser fears: the heart possessed
with this fear, hath no room for the other.
It resolves the heart, in point of duty, what
it should and must do, that it must not offend
God by any means, lays that down as indis-
putable, and so eases it of doubtings and de-
bates in that kind—whether shall I comply
With the world, and abate somewhat of the
sincerity and exact way of religion to please
men, Qr to escape persecution or reproaches:
no, it is unquestionably best, and only neces-
Šary to obey him rather than men, to retain
his favor, be it with displeasing the most re-
Spected and considerable persons we know ;
yea, rather to choose the universal and high-
est displeasure of all the world for ever, than
his smaliest discountenance for a moment.
It counts that the only indispensable neces-
sity, to cleave unto God, and obey him. If
I pray, I shall be accused, might Daniel
think, but yet, pray I must, come on it what
Will. So, if I worship God in my prayer,
they will mock me, I shall pass for a fool;
no matter for that, it must be done: I must
call on God, and strive to walk with him.
This sets the mind at ease, not to be halting
between two opinions, but resolved what to
do. We are not careful, said they, to an-
swer thee, O king—our God can deliver us,
but if not, this we have put out of delibera-
tion, we will not worship the image. Dan. iii.
16. As one said, Non oportet vivere, sed
oportet navigare, so we may say, It is not
necessary to have the favor of the world, nor
to have riches, nor to live, but it is necessary
to hold fast the truth, and to walk holily, to
sanctify the name of our Lord, and honor
him, whether in life or death.
2. Faith in God clears the mind, and dis-
pels carnal fears. It is the most sure help:
What time I am afraid, says David, I will
trust in thee. Psalm lwi. 3. It resolves the
mind concerning the event, and scatters the
multitude of perplexing thoughts which arise
about that : What shall become of this and
that ? What if such an enemy prevail 2
What if the place of our abode grow danger-
ous, and we be not provided, as others are,
for a removal 2 No matter, says faith, though
all fail, I know of one thing that will not; I
have a refuge which all the strength of na-
ture and art can not break in upon or demol-
ish, a high defence, my rock in whom I trust.
Psalm lxii. 5, 6. The firm belief of, and rest-
ing on his power, and wisdom, and love,
gives a clear satisfying answer to all doubts
and fears. It suffers us not to stand to jangle
with each trifling, grumbling objection, but
carries all before it, makes day in the soul,
and so chases away those fears that vex us
only in the dark, as affrightful fancies do.
This is indeed to sanctify God, and to give
him his own glory, to rest on him. And it is
a fruitful homage which is thus done to him,
returning us so much peace and victory over
fears and troubles, in the persuasion that
nothing can separate from his love ; that
only we feared, and so, the things that can
not reach that, can be easily despised.
Seek to have the Lord in your hearts, and
sanctify him there. He shall make them
strong, and carry them through all dangers.
Though I walk, says David, through the val-
ley of the shadow of death, I will fear no ill,
for thou art with me. PS. xxiii. So xxvii. 1.
What is it that makes the church so firm and
stout: Though the sea roar, and the moun-
tains be cast into the midst of the sea, yet we
will not fear It is this: God is in the midst
of her; she shall not be moved. Ps. xlvi. 2, 5.
No wonder ; he is immovable, and therefore
doth establish all where he resides. If the
world be in the middle of the heart, it will
be often shaken, for all there is continual
motion and change; but God in it, keeps it
stable. Labor, therefore, to get God into
your hearts, residing in the midst of them,
and then, in the midst of all conditions, they
shall not move.
Our condition is universally exposed to
fears and troubles, and no man is so stupid
but he studies and projects for some fence
against them, some bulwark to break the in-
cursion of evils, and so to bring his mind to
some ease, ridding it of the fear of them.
Thus the most vulgar spirits do in their way;
for even the brutes, from whom such do not
much differ in their actings, and course of
246
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
life too, are instructed by nature to provide
themselves and their young ones with shel-
ter, the birds their nests, and the beasts their
holes and dens. Thus, men gape and pant
after gain with a confused ill-examined fancy
of quiet and safety in it, if once they might
reach such a day, as to say with the rich fool
in the gospel, Soul, take thine ease, thou hast
much goods laid up for many years ; though
warned by his short ease, and by many watch-
words, yea, by daily experience, that days
may come, yea, one day will, when fear and
trouble shall rush in, and break over the
highest tower of riches; that there is a day,
called the day of wrath, wherein they profit
not at all. Prov. xi. 4. Thus, men seek
safety in the greatness, or multitude, or sup-
posed faithfulness of friends; they seek by
any means to be strongly underset this way,
to have many and powerful, and trust-worthy
friends. But wiser men, perceiving the un-
safety and vanity of these and all external
things, have cast about for some higher
course. They see a necessity of withdraw-
ing a man from externals, which do nothing
but mock and deceive those most who trust
most to them ; but they can not tell whither
to direct him. The best of them bring him
wnto himself, and think to quiet him so, but
the truth is, he finds as little to support him
there ; there is nothing truly strong enough
within him, to hold out against the many sor-
rows and fears which still from without do
assault him. So then, though it is well done,
to call off a man from outward things, as
moving sands, that he build not on them, yet
this is not enough ; for his own spirit is as
unsettled a piece as is in all the world, and
must have some higher strength than its
own, to fortify and fix it. This is the way
that is here taught, Fear not their fear, but
sanctify the Lord your God in your hearts ;
and if you can attain this latter, the former
will follow of itself. *
In the general, then, God taking the place
formerly possessed by things full of motion
and unquietness, makes firm and establishes
the heart. More particularly,
On the one hand, the fear of God turns
other fears out of doors : there is no room
for them where this great fear is; and though
greater than they all, yet, it disturbs not as
they do, yea, it brings as great quiet as they
brought trouble. It is an ease to have but
one thing for the heart to deal withal, for
many times the multitude of carnal fears is
more troublesome than their weight, as flies
that vex most by their number.
Again, this fear is not a terrible apprehen-
sion of God as an enemy, but a sweet com-
posed reverence of God as our King, yea, as
our Father ; as very great, but no less good
than great : So highly esteeming his favor,
as fearing most of all things to offend him in
any kind; especially if the soul should either
have been formerly, on the one hand, under
the lash of his apprehended displeasure, or, on
the other side, have had some sensible tastes
of his love, and have been entertained in his
banqueting house, where his banner over it
was love. Cant. ii. 4.
His children fear him for his goodness: are
afraid to lose sight of that, or, to deprive
themselves of any of its influences; desire
to live in his favor, and them, for other things
they are not very thoughtful.
On the other hand, faith carries the soul
above all doubts, assures it that if sufferings,
or sickness, or death come, nothing can sep-
arate it from him. This suffices; yea, what
though he may hide his face for a time,
though that is the hardest of all, yet there
is no separation. Faith sets the soul in God,
and where is safety, if it be not there 2 . It
rests on those persuasions it hath concerning
him, and that interest it hath in him. Faith
believes that he sits and rules the affairs of
the world, with an all-seeing eye and an all-
moving hand. The greatest affairs surcharge
him not, and the very smallest escape him
not. He orders the march of all armies, and
the events of battles, and yet, thou and thy
particular condition slip not out of his view.
The very hairs of thy head are numbered ;
are not then all thy steps, and the hazards
of them, known to him, and all thy desires
before him 2 Doth he not number thy wan-
derings, every weary step thou art driven to,
and put thy tears in his bottle 2 Psalm lvii. 8.
Thou mayest assure thyself, that however
thy matters seem to go, all is contrived to
subserve thy good, especially thy chief and
highest good. There is a regular motion in
them, though the wheels do seem to run
cross. All these things are against me, said
old Jacob, and yet, they were all for him.
In all estates, I know of no heart’s ease,
but to believe ; to sanctify and honor thy
God, in resting on his word. If thou art not
persuaded of this love, surely that will carry
thee above all distrustful fears. If thou art
not clear in that point, yet depend and re-
solve to stay by him, yea, to stay on him, till
he show himself unto thee. Thou hast some
fear of him ; thou canst not deny it without
gross injury to him and thyself; thou wouldst
willingly walk in all well-pleasing unto
him : well then, who is among you that fear-
eth the Lord, though he see no present light,
yet, let him trust in the name of the Lord,
and stay upon his God. Isa. l. 10. Press this
upon thy soul, for there is not such another
charm for all its fears and disquiet; there-
fore, repeat it still with David, sing this still,
till it be stilled, and chide thy distrustful
heart into believing : Why art thou cast
down, O my soul ? why art thou disquieted
within me 2 Hope in God, for I shall yet
praise him. Psalm xlii. 5. Though I am
all out of tune for the present, never a right
string in my soul, yet, he will put forth his
hand and redress all, and I shall yet once
again praise, and therefore, even now, I will
hope.
WER. 15.]
247
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
It is true, some may say, God is a safe
shelter and refuge, but he is holy, and holy
men may find admittance and protection, but
can so vile a sinner as I look to be protected
and taken in under his safe-guard Ž Go try.
Inock at his door, and (take it not on our
word, but on his own) it shall be opened to
thee ; that once done, thou shalt have a happy
life of it in the worst times. Faith hath this
privilege, never to be ashamed ; it takes
sanctuary in God, and sits and sings under
the shadow of his wings, as David speaks.
Psalm lxiii. 7.
Whence the unsettledness of men's minds
in trouble, or when it is near, but because
they are far off from God 2 The heart is
shaken as the leaves of the tree with the
wind, there is no stability of spirit; God is
not sanctified in it, and no wonder, for he is
not known. Strange this ignorance of God,
and of the precious promises of his word
The most, living and dying strangers to him
When trouble comes, they have not him as
a known refuge, but have to begin to seek
after him, .# to inquire the way to him ;
they can not go to him as acquainted, and
engaged by his own covenant with them.
Others have some empty knowledge, and can
discourse of Scripture, and sermons, and spirit-
ual comforts, while yet they have none of
that fear and trust which quiet the soul: they
have notions of God in their heads, but God
is not sanctified in their hearts.
If you will be advised, this is the way to
have a high and strong spirit indeed, and to
be above troubles and fears: seek for a more
lively and divine knowledge of God than most
as yet have, and rest not till you bring him
into your hearts, and then you shall rest in-
deed in him.
Sanctify him by fearing him. Let him be
3your fear and your dread, not only as to out-
ward, gross offences; fear an oath, fear to
profane the Lord's holy day, but fear also all
irregular earthly desires; fear the distemper-
ed affecting of anything, the entertaining of
anything in the secret of your hearts, that may
give distaste to your beloved. Take heed,
respect the great Person you have in your
company, who lodges within you, the Holy
Spirit. Grieve him not ; it will turn to your
own grief if you do, for all your comfort is in
his hand, and flows from him. If you be but
in heart dallying with sin, it will unfit you
for suffering outward troubles, and make your
spirit low and base in the day of trial ; yea,
it will fill you with inward trouble, and dis-
turb that peace which, I am sure, you who
know it esteem more than all the peace and
flourishing of this world. Outward troubles
do not molest or stir inward peace, but an
unholy, unsanctified affection doth. All the
winds without, cause not an earthquake, but
that within its own bowels doth. Christians
are much their own enemies in unwary walk-
Ing; hereby they deprive themselves of those
comforts they might have in God, and so are
often almost as perplexed and full of fears,
upon small occasions, as worldlings are.
Sanctify him by believing. Study the main
question, your reconcilement with him; labor
to bring that to some point, and then, in all
other occurrences, Faith will uphold you, by
enabling you to rely on God as now yours.
For these three things make up the soul's
peace : 1st, To have right apprehensions of
God, looking on him in Christ, and according
to that covenant that holds in him. And,
2dly, A particular apprehension, that is, lay-
ing hold on him in that covenant as gracious
and merciful, as satisfied and appeased in
Christ, smelling in his sacrifice (which was
himself), a savor of rest, and setting himself
before me, that I may rely on him in that
notion. 3dly, A persuasion, that by so relying
on him, my soul is as one, yea, is one with
him. Yet, while this is wanting, as to a
believer it may be, the other is our duty, to
sanctify the Lord in believing the word of
grace, and believing on him, reposing on his
word. And this, even severed from the other,
doth deliver, in a good measure, from dis-
tracting fears and troubles, and sets the soul
at safety.
Whence is it, that in times of persecution
or trouble, men are troubled within, and rack-
ed with fears, but because, instead of depend-
ing upon God, their hearts are glued to such
things as are in hazard by those troubles
without, their estates, or their ease, or their
lives 2 The soul destitute of God esteems so
highly these things, that it can not but exceed-
ingly feel when they are in danger, and fear
their loss most, gaping after some imagined
good: Oh! if I had but this, I were well:—
but then, such or such a thing may step in
and break all my projects. And this troubles
the poor spirit of the man who hath no higher
designs than such as are so easily blasted, and
still, as anything in man lifts up his soul to
vanity, it must needs fall down again into
veration. There is a word or two in the
Hebrew for idols, that signify withal troubles,”
and terrors.f And so it is certainly : all our
idols prove so to us; they fill us with nothing
but anguish and troubles, with unprofitable
cares and fears, that are good for nothing,
but to be fit punishments of that folly out of
which they arise. The ardent love or self-
willed desire of prosperity, or wealth, or credit
in the world, carries with it, as inseparably
tied to it, a bundle of fears and inward trou-
bles. They that will be rich, says the apostle,
fall into a snare, and many noisome and hurt-
jul lusts, and, as he adds in the next verse,
they pierce themselves through with many sor-
rows. 1 Tim. vi. 9. He who hath set his
heart upon an estate, or a commodious dwel-
ling and lands, or upon a healthful and long
* [Tigirim], Isa. xlv. 16, from [Tszus], arctavit,
hostiliter egit.
f [Miphletzeth], 1 Kings xv. 13, from [Phalatz],
contremiscere, et [Emim], Job xv. 25, from [Aim],
formidabilis, terrificus.
248
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
life, can not but be in continued alarms, re-
newing his fears concerning them. Especially
in troublous times, the least rumor of any-
thing that threateneth to deprive him of those
advantages, strikes him to the heart, because
his heart is in them. I am well seated, thinks
he, and I am of a sound, strong constitution,
and may have many a good day. Oh but
besides the arrows of pestilence that are fly-
ing round about, the sword of a cruel enemy
is not far off. This will affright and trouble
a heart void of God. But if thou wouldst
readily answer and dispel all these, and
such like fears, sanctify the Lord God in thy
heart. The soul that eyes God, renounces
these things, looks on them at a great dis-
tance, as things far from the heart, and which
therefore can not easily trouble it, but it looks
on God as within the heart, sanctifies him in
it, and rests on him.
The word of God cures the many foolish
hopes and fears that we are naturally subject
to, by representing to us hopes and fears of a
far higher nature, which swallow up and
drown the other, as inundations and land-
floods do the little ditches in those meadows
that they overflow. Fear not, says our Sa-
vior, him that can kill the body—What then 2
Fear must have some work: he adds, But
ear him who can kill both soul and body.
hus, in the passage cited here, Fear not
their fear, but sanctify the Lord, and let him
be your fear and your dread. And so, as for
the hopes of the world, care not though you
lose them for God: there is a hope in you (as
it follows here) that is far above them.
Be ready always to give an answer.] The
real Christian is all for Christ, hath given
up all right of himself to his Lord and Mas-
ter, to be all his, to do and suffer for him,
and, therefore, he surely will not fail in this
which is least, to speak for him upon all oc-
casions. If he sanctify him in his heart, the
tongue will follow, and be ready ſtpºs º
to give an answer, a defence or apology.
this, here are four things to be noted.
1st. The need of it, Men will ask an ac-
COwnt.
2dly. The matter or subject of it, The hope
272, 3/011.
3dly. The manner, With meekness and
fear.
4thly. The faculty for it, Be ready.
1. The need of a defence or apology. Re-
ligion is always the thing in the world that
hath the greatest calumnies and prejudices
cast upon it: and this engages those who
love it, to endeavor to clear and disburden it
of them. This they do chiefly by the course
of their lives. The saints, by their blameless
actions and patient sufferings, do write most
real and convincing Apologies ; yet some-
times, it is expedient, yea, necessary, to add
verbal defences, and to vindicate not so much
themselves, as their Lord and his truth, as
suffering in the reproaches cast upon them.
Did they rest in their own persons, a regard-
less contempt of them were usually the fittest
answer; Spreta vilescerent. But where the
holy profession of Christians is likely to re-
ceive either the main or the indirect blow,
and a word of defence may do anything to
ward it off, there we ought not to spare to
do it.
Christian prudence goes a great way in
the regulating of this; for holy things are not
to be cast to dogs. Some are not capable of
receiving rational answers, especially in di-
vine things; they were not only lost upon
them, but religion dishonored by the con-
test. But we are to answer every one that
ºnquires a reason, or an account; which
supposes something receptive of it. We
ought to judge ourselves engaged to give it,
be it an enemy, if he will hear; if it gain
him not, it may in part convince and cool
him ; much more, should it be one who in-
genuously inquires for satisfaction, and pos-
sibly inclines to receive the truth, but is pre-
judiced against it by false misrepresentations
of it; for Satan and the profane world are
very inventive of such shapes and colors as
may make truth most odious, drawing mon-
strous misconsequences out of it, and belying
the practices of Christians, making their as-
semblies horrible and vile by false imputa-
tions; and thus are they often necessitated
to declare the true tenor, both of their belief
and their lives, in confessions of faith, and
remonstrances of their carriage and custom.
The very name of Christians, in the prim-
itive times, was made hateful by the foulest
aspersions of strange wickednesses committed
in their meetings; and these passed credibly
through with all who were not particularly
acquainted with them. Thus it also was
with the Waldenses; and so, both were
forced to publish Apologies. And, as here
enjoined, every one is bound seasonably to
clear himself, and his brethren, and religion:
Be ye always ready. It is not always to be
done to every one, but being ready to do it,
we must consider when, and to whom, and
how far. But,
2. All that they are to give account of is
comprised here under this, The hope that is
in you. Faith is the root of all graces, of all
obedience and holiness; and hope is so near
in nature to it, that the one is commonly
named for the other ; for the things that faith
apprehends and lays hold on as present, in
the truth of divine promises, hope looks out
for as to come, in their certain performance.
To believe a promise to be true before it be
performed, is no other than to believe that it
shall be performed ; and hope expects that.
Many rich and excellent things do the
saints receive, even in their mean despised
condition here; but their hope is rather men-
tioned as the subject they may speak and
give account of with most advantage, both
because all they receive, at present, is but as
nothing, compared to what they hope for, and
because, such as it is, it can not be made
WER. 15.]
249
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
known at all to a natural man, being so
clouded with their afflictions and sorrows.
These he sees, but their graces and comforts
he can not see; and, therefore, the very ground
of higher hopes, of somewhat to come, though
he knows not what it is, speaks more satis-
faction. To hear of another life, and a hap-
piness hoped for, any man will confess it says
something, and deserves to be considered.
So, then, the whole sum of religion goes
under this word, the hope that is in you, for
two reasons: first, for that it doth indeed all
resolve and terminate into things to come,
and secondly, as it leads and carries on the
soul toward them by all the graces in it, and
all the exercise of them, and through all ser-
vices and sufferings; aiming at this, as its
main scope, to keep that life to come in the
believer's eye, till he get it in his hand; to
sustain the hope of it, and bring him to pos-
sess it. Therefore the apostle calls faith, the
substance of things hoped for, that which
makes them be before §: be, gives a solid-
ity and substance to them. The name of
hope, in other things, scarcely suits with such
a meaning, but sounds a kind of uncertainty,
and is somewhat airy; for, of all other hopes
but this, it is a very true word of Seneca's,
Spes est nomen boni incerti : Hope is the name
of an uncertain good. But the gospel, being
entertained by ń. furnishes a hope that
hath substance and reality in it; and all its
truths do concentrate into this, to give such
a hope. There was in St. Paul's word, be-
sides the fitness for his stratagem at that
time, a truth suitable to this, where he desig-
nates his whole cause for which he was called
in question, by the name of his hope of the
Tesurrection. Acts xxiii. 6.
And, indeed, this hope carries its own
apology in it, both for itself and for religion.
What can more pertinently answer all excep-
tions against the way of godliness than this,
to represent what hopes the saints have who
walk in that way ? If you ask, Whither
tends all this your preciséness and singular-
ity ? Why can not you live as your neighbors
and the rest of the world about you? Truly,
the reason is this: we have somewat further
to look to than our present condition, and far
more considerable than anything here; we
have a hope of blessedness after time, a hope
to dwell in the presence of God, where our
Lord Christ is gone before us; and we know
that as many as have this hope must purify
themselves even as he is pure. 1 John iii. 3.
The city we tend to is holy, and no unclean
thing shall enter into it. Rev. xxi. 17. The
hopes we have can not subsist in the way of
the ungodly world ; they can not breathe in
that air, but are choked and stifled with it;
and therefore we must take another way, un-
less we will forego our hopes, and ruin our-
selves for company. But all that bustle of
godliness you make, is (say you) but ostenta-
tion and hypocrisy. That may be your judg-
ment, but, if it were so, we had but a poor
bargain. Such persons have their reward ;
that which they desire, to be seen of men, is
given them, and they can look for no more ;
but we should be loath to have it so with us.
That which our eye is upon, is to come ; our
hopes are the thing which upholds us. We
know that we shall appear before the Judge
of hearts, where shows and formalities will
not pass, and we are persuaded that the hope
of the hypocrite shall perish: Job viii. 13: no
man shall be so much disappointed and
ashamed as he. But the hope that we have,
maketh not ashamed. Rom. v. 5. And while
We consider that, so far are we from the re-
garding of men's eyes, that, were it not we
are bound to profess our hope, and avow re-
ligion, and to walk conformably to it, even
before men, we would be content to pass
through altogether unseen: and we desire to
pass as if it were so, as regardless either of
the approbation, or of the reproaches and
mistakes of men, as if there were no such
thing, for it is indeed nothing.
Yea, the hopes we have make all things
Sweet. Therefore, do we go through disgraces
and sufferings with patience, yea, with joy,
because of that hope of glory and joy laid up
for us. A Christian can take joyfully the
spoiling of his goods, knowing that he hath
tn heaven a better and an enduring substance.
Heb. x. 34.
The hope.] All the estate of a believer
lieth in hope, and it is a royal estate. As for
outward things, the children of God have
what he thinks fit to serve them, but those
are not their portion, and therefore he gives
often more of the world to those who shall
have no more hereafter ; but all their flourish
and lustre is but a base advantage, as a
lackey's gaudy clothes, which usually make
more show than his who is heir of the estate.
How often, under a mean outward condition,
and very despicable every way, goes an heir
of glory born of God, and so royal ; born to a
crown that fadeth not, an estate of hopes, but
so rich and so certain hopes, that the least
thought of them surpasses all the world's
possessions ! Men think of somewhat for the
present, a bird in hand, as you say, the best
of it: but the odds is in this, that when all
present things shall be past and swept away,
as if they had not been, then shall these
hopers be in eternal possession ; they only
shall have all for ever, who seemed to have
little or nothing here.
Oh! how much happier to be the meanest
expectant of the glory to come, than the sole
possessor of all this world. These expectants
are often kept short in earthly things, and,
had they the greatest abundance of them, yet
they can not rest in that. Even so, all the
spiritual blessings that they do possess here,
are nothing to the hope that is in them, but as
an earnest-penny to their great inheritance,
which, indeed, confirms their hope, and as-
sures unto them that full estate; and there.
fore, be it never so small, they may look on
250
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
it with joy, not so much regarding it simply
in itself, as in relation to that which it seals
and ascertains the soul of Be it never so
small, yet it is a pledge of the great glory
and happiness which we desire to share in.
It is the grand comfort of a Christian, to
look often beyond all that he can possess or
attain here; and as to answer others, when
he is put to it concerning his hope, so to an-
swer himself concerning all his present griefs
and wants: I have a poor traveller's lot here,
little friendship and many straits, but yet I
may go cheerfully homeward, for thither I
shall come, and there I have riches and honor
enough, a palace and a crown abiding me.
Here, nothing but depth calling unto depth,
one calamity and trouble, as waves, follow-
ing another: but I have a hope of that rest
that remaineth for the people of God. I feel
the infirmities of a mortal state, but my hopes
of immortality content me under them. I
find strong and cruel assaults of temptations
breaking in upon me, but, for all that, I have
the assured hope of a full victory, and then,
of everlasting peace. I find a law in my
members rebelling against the law of my
mind, which is the worst of all evils, so much
strength of corruption within me; yet, there
is withal a hope within me of deliverance, and
Ilook over all to that: Ilift up my head, because
the day of my redemption draws nigh. This I
dare avow and proclaim to all,and am notasha-
med to answer concerning this blessed hope.
3. But for the manner of this, it is to be
done with meekness and fear ; meekness tow-
ard men, and reverential fear toward God.
With meekness.] A Christian is not, there-
fore, to be blustering and flying out into in-
vectives, because he hath the better of it,
against a man that questions him touching
this hope; as some think themselves cer-
tainly authorized to rough speech, because
they plead for truth, and are on its side. On
the contrary, so much the rather study meek-
ness, for the glory and advantage of the truth.
It needs not the service of passion ; yea, noth-
ing so disserves it, as passion when set to
serve it. The spirit of truth is withal the
spirit of meekness. The dove that rested on
that great champion of truth, who is the truth
itself, is from him derived to the lovers of
truth, and they ought to seek the participa-
tion of it. Imprudence makes some kind of
Christians lose much of their labor, in speak-
ing for religion, and drive those further off,
whom they would draw into it.
And fear.] Divine things are never to be
spoken of in a light, perfunctory way, but
with a reverent, grave temper of spirit; and,
for this reason, some choice is to be made
both of time and persons. The confidence
that attends this hope, makes the believer
not fear men, to whom he answers, but still
he fears his God, for whom he answers, and
whose interest is chief in those things he
speaks of. The soul that hath the deepest
sense of spiritual things, and the truest
knowledge of God, is most afraid to miscarry
in speaking of him, most tender and wary
how to acquit itself when engaged to speak
of and for God.
4. We have the faculty for this apology,
be ready. In this are implied knowledge,
and affection, and courage. As for knowledge,
it is not required of every Christian, to be
able to prosecute subtilties, and encounter
the sophistry of adversaries, especially in
obscure points; but all are bound to know
so much as to be able to aver that hope that
is in them, the main doctrine of grace and sal-
Vation, wherein the most of men are lamenta-
bly ignorant. Affection sets all on work; what-
ever faculty the mind hath, it will not suffer
it to be useless, and it hardens it against haz-
ards in defence of the truth.
But the only way so to know and love the
truth, and to have courage to avow it, is, to
have the Lord sanctified in the heart. Men
may dispute stoutly against Popery and er-
rors, and yet be strangers to God and this
hope. But surely it is the liveliest defence,
and that which alone returns comfort within,
when it arises from the peculiar interest of
the soul in God, and in those truths and that
hope which are questioned: it is then like
pleading for the nearest friend, and for a
man's own rights and inheritance. This will
animate and give edge to it, when you apol-
ogise, not for a hope you have heard or read
of barely, but for a hope within you ; not
merely a hope in believers in general, but in
you, by a particular sense of that hope within.
But, although you should find it not so
strong in you, as to your particular interest,
yet are you seeking after it, and desiring it
mainly 2 Is it your chief design to attain
unto it 2 Then forbear not, if you have oc-
casion, to speak for it, and commend it to
others, and to maintain the Sweetness and
certainty of it.
And, to the end you may be the more es-
tablished in it, and so the stronger to answer
for it, not only against men, but against that
great adversary who seeks so much to in-
fringe and overbear it, know the right foun-
dation of it; build it never on yourselves, or
anything in yourselves. The work of grace
may evidence to you the truth of your hope,
but the ground it fastens on is Jesus Christ,
in whom all our rights and evidences hold
good ; his death assuring us of freedom from
condemnation, and his life and possession of
glory being the foundation of our hope. Heb.
vi. 19. If you would have it immovable,
rest it there; lay all this hope on him, and,
when assaulted, fetch all your answers for it
from him, for it is Christ in you, that is your
hope of glory. Col. i. 27.
VER. 16. Having a good conscience, that whereas
they speak evil of you, as of evil-doers, they may
be ashamed that falsely accuse your good conver-
sation in Christ.
THE prosperity of fools is their destruc-
tion, says Solomon, Prov. i. 32. But none
WER. 16.]
251
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
of God's children die of this disease—of too
much ease. He knows well how to breed
them, and fit them for a kingdom. He keeps
them in exercise, but yet so as they are not
surcharged. He not only directs them how
to overcome, but enables and supports them
in all their conflicts, and gives thern victory.
One main thing, tending to their support and
victory, is what is here required in the saints,
and is withal wrought and maintained in
them by the Spirit of God, having a good
conscience, &c.
1. We have here two parties opposed in
contest—the evil tongues of the ungodly, and
the good conscience and conversation of the
Christian : they speak evil of you, and false-
ly accuse you, but do you have a good con-
SC 2 (272 C6.
II. The success of their contest: the good
conscience prevails, and the evil-speakers
are ashamed.
I. The parties engaged: they speak evil.]
This is a general evil in the corrupt nature
of man, though in some it rises to a greater
height than in others. Are not tables and
chambers, and almost all societies and meet-
ings full of it? And even those who have
Some dislikings of it, are too easily carried
away with the stream, and, for company’s
sake, take a share, if not by lending their
word, yet lending their ear, and willingly
hearing the detractions of others; unless it
be of their friends, or such as they have in-
terest in, they insensibly slide into some
forced complacency, and easily receive the
impression of calumnies and defamings. But
the most are more active in this evil, can
cast in their penny to make up the shot ;
have their taunt or criticism upon somebody
in readiness, to make up the feast, such as
most companies entertain one another withal,
but is a vile diet. Satan's name, as the Sy-
riac calls him, is, an eater of calumnies. This
tongue-evil hath its root in the heart, in a
perverse constitution there, in pride and self-
love. An overweening esteem that men mat-
urally have of themselves, mounts them into
the censor's chair, gives them a fancied au-
thority of judging others, and self-love, a de-
sire to be esteemed ; and, for that end, they
spare not to depress others, and load thern
with disgraces and injurious censures, seek-
ing upon their ruins to raise themselves: as
Sallust speaks, Ea, alieni nominis jactura
gradum sibi faciunt ad gloriam.
But this bent of the unrenewed heart and
tongue to evil-speaking, works and vents in
the world, most against those who walk most
contrary to the course of the world ; against
such, this furnace of the tongue, kindled
from hell, as St. James tells us, is made sev-
en times hotter than ordinary. As for sin-
cere Christians, they say, A company of hyp-
Qcrites, Who so godly 3 but yet they are
false, and malicious, and proud, &c. No
kind of carriage in them shall escape, but
there shall be some device to wrest and mis-
name it. If they be cheerful in society, that
shall be accounted more liberty than suits
with their profession ; if of a graver or sad
temper, that shall pass for sullen severity.
Thus perversely were John the Baptist and
Christ censured by the Jews. Matt. xi. 18,
19. . If they be diligent and wary in their
affairs, then, in the world's construction, they
are as covetous and worldly as any ; if care-
less and remiss in them, then, silly, withess
creatures, good for nothing. Still something
stands cross.
The enemies of religion have not anywhere
so quick an eye, as in observing the ways of
such as seek after God : my remarkers, David
calls them, Psalm lyi. 6—they who scan my
ways, as the word implies—will not let the
least step pass unexamined. If nothing be
found faulty, then their invention works, ei-
ther forging complete falsehoods, or disguis-
ing something that lies open to mistake. Or,
if they can catch hold on any real failing,
there is no end of their triumph and insulta-
tions.
1. They aggravate and raise it to the
highest. 2. While they will not admit to be
themselves judged of by their constant walk,
they scruple not to judge of the condition of
a Christian by any one particular action
wherein he doth, or seems at least to, mis-
carry. 3. They rest not there, but make one
failing of one Christian a reproach of all:
“Take up your devotees, there is never a one
of them better.” 4. Nor rest they there, but
make the personal failumgs of those who pro-
fess it, the disgrace of religion itself. Now,
all these are very crooked rules, and such
* Jºse them are guilty of gross injustice.
Or,
1. There is a great difference between a
thing taken favorably, and the same action
misconstrued. And,
2. A great difference between one particu-
lar act, and a man's estate or inward frame,
which they either consider not, or willingly
or maliciously neglect. e
3. How large is the difference that there is
between one and another in the measure of
grace, as well as of prudence, either in their
natural disposition, or in grace, or possibly in
both ! Some who are honest in the matter
of religion, yet, being very weak, may mis-
carry in such things as other Christians come
seldom near the hazard of And though some
should wholly forsake the way of godliness,
wherein they seemed to walk, yet why should
that reflect upon such as are real and stead-
fast in it ! They went out from us, says the
apostle, but were not of us, 1 John ii. 19.
Offences of this kind must be, but the wo rests
on him by whom they come, not on other
Christians. And if it spread further than the
party offending, the wo is to the profane
world, that take offence at religion because
of him : as our Savior hath expressed it, Wo
to the world because of offences, Matt. xviii.
7; they shall stumble and fall, and break
252
[CEAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
their necks upon these stumbling-blocks or
scandals. Thou who art profane, and seest
the failing of a minister or Christian, and art
hardened by it, this is a judgment to thee,
that thou meetest with such a block in thy
way. Wo to the world ! It is a judgment
on a place, when God permits religion, in the
persons of some, to be scandalous.
4. Religion itself remains still the same:
whatsoever be the failings and blots of one or
more who profess it, it is itselſ pure and spot-
less. If it teach not holiness, and meekness,
and humility, and all good, purely, them, ex-
cept against it. But if it be a straight golden
reed by which the temple is measured (Rev.
xxi. 15), then let it have its own esteem, both
of straightness and preciousness, whatsoever
unevenness be found in those who profess to
receive it.
Suspect and search yourselves, even ingen-
eral, for this evil of evil-speaking. Consider
that we are to give [\oyov Moyàv] an account of
words ; and if of idle [äpyov påpa] workless
words, how much more of lying or biting
words !—De verbo mendaci aut mordaci, as
St. Bernard has it. Learn more humility
and self-censure. Blunt that fire-edge upon
your own hard and disordered hearts, that
others may meet with nothing but charity
and lenity at your hands.
But particularly beware of this, in more or
less, in earnest or in jest, to reproach religion,
or those who profess it. Know how particu-
larly the glorious name of GOD is interested
in that ; and they who dare be affronting him,
what shall they say ? How shall they stand,
when he calls them to account? If you have
not attained to it, yet do not bark .."; it,
but the rather esteem highly of religion. Löve
it, and the very appearance of it, wherever
you find it. Give it respect and your good
word, at least; and, from an external appro-
bation, oh! that you would aspire to an in-
ward acquaintance with it, and then no more
were needful to be said in this ; it would com-
mend itself to you sufficiently. But, in the
meantime, be ashamed, be afraid of that pro-
fessed enmity against God that is among you,
a malignant, hateful spirit against those who
desire to walk holily, whetting your tongues
against them.
Consider, what do you mean? This reli-
gion which we all profess, is it the way to
heaven, or is it not ? Do you believe this word,
or not ? If you do not, what do you here 2 If
you do, then you must believe, too, that those
who walk closest by this rule are surest in
that way; those who dare not share in your
oaths, and excessive cups, and profane con-
versation. What can you say ? It is not pos-
sible to open your mouth against them, with-
out renouncing this word and faith: therefore,
either declare you are no Christians, and that
Christ is not yours, or, in his name, I enjoin
you, that you dare no more speak an ill word
of Christianity, and the power of religion, and
those who seek after it. There are not many
higher signs of a reprobate mind, than to have
a bitter, virulent spirit against the children
of God. Seek that tie of affection and frater-
nity, on which the beloved apostle, St. John,
lays such stress, when he says, Hereby we
know that we are translated from death to
life, because we love the brethren. 1 John
iii. 14.
But because those hissings are the natural
voice of the serpent’s seed, expect them, you
that have a mind to follow Christ, and
take this guard against them that you are
here directed to take : Having a good con-
science.
It is a fruitless verbal debate, whether con-
science be a faculty or habit, or not. As in
other things, so in this, which most of all re-
quires more solid and useful consideration,
the vain mind of man feedeth on the wind,
loves to be busy to no purpose, magno conatu
magnas mugas. How much better is it to
have this supernatural goodness of conscience,
than to dispute about the nature of it; to find
it duly teaching and admonishing, reproving
and comforting, rather than to define it most
exactly Malo sentire compunctionem, quam
scire ejus definitionem.
When all is examined, conscience will be
found to be no other than the mind of man
under the notion of a particular reference to
himself and his own actions. And there is a
twofold goodness of the conscience, purity
and tranquillity ; and this latter flows from
the former, so that the former is the thing
we ought primarily to study, and the latter
will follow of itself. For a time, indeed, the
conscience that is in a good measure pure,
may be unpeaceable, but still it is the appre-
hension and sense of present or former impu-
rity, that makes it so : for, without the con-
sideration of guiltiness, there is nothing that
can trouble it: it can not apprehend the wrath
of God, but with relation unto sin.
The goodness of conscience here recom-
mended, is, the integrity and holiness of the
whole inward man in a Christian. So, the in-
gredients of it are, 1. A due light or knowl-
edge of our rule: that, like the lamps in the
temple, must be still burning within, as filthi-
ness is always the companion of darkness.
Therefore, if you would have a good con-
science, you must by all means have so much
light, so much knowledge of the will of God,
as may regulate you, and show your Way,
may teach you how to do, and speak, and
think, as in his presence. * * * *
2. A constant regard and using of this light,
applying it to all things ; not sleeping, but
working by it: still seeking a nearer confor-
mity with the known will of our God; daily
redressing and ordering the afflictions by it :
not sparing to knock off whatsoever we find
irregular within, that our hearts may be pol-
ished and brought to a right frame by that
rule. And this is the daily inward work of
the Christian, his great business, to purify him-
self as the Lord is pure, 1 John iii. 3. And,
WER. 16.]
253
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
3. For the advancing of this work, there is
needful a frequent search of our hearts and
of our actions, not only to consider what we
are to do, but what we have done. These re-
flex inquiries, as they are a main part of the
conscience's proper work, are a chief means
of making and keeping the conscience good;
first, by acquainting the soul with its own
state, with the motions and inclinations that
are most natural to it; secondly, by stirring
it up to work out, and purge away by repent-
ance, the pollution it hath contracted by any
outward act or inward motion of sin ; and,
thirdly, this search both excites and enables
the conscience to be more watchful; teaches
how to avoid and prevent the like errors for
the time to come. As natural wise men labor
to gain thus much out of their former over-
sights in their affairs, to be the wiser and
warier by them, and lay up that as bought
wit, which they have paid dear for, and there-
fore are careful to make their best advantage
of it : so God makes the consideration of their
falls preservatives to his children from falling
again, makes a medicine of this poison.
Thus, that the conscience may be good, it
must be enlightened, and it must be watch-
ful, both advising before, and after censuring,
according to that light.
The greater part of mankind little regard
this: they walk by guess, having perhaps ig-
norant consciences, and the blind, you say,
swallow many, a fly. Yea, how many con-
sciences are without sense, as seared with a
hot iron, 1 Tim. iv. 2: So stupified, that they
feel nothing ! Others rest satisfied with a
civil righteousness, an imagined goodness of
conscience, because they are free from gross
crimes. Others, who know the rule of Chris-
tianity, yet study not a conscientious respect
to it in all things: they cast some transient
looks upon the rule and their own hearts, it
may be, but sit not down to compare them,
make it not their business, have time for any-
thing but that, Non vacant bonde menti. They
do not, with St. Paul, exercise themselves in
this, to have a conscience void of offence tow-
ard God and men. Acts xxiv. 16. Those were
his ascetics [dokó] ; he exhausted himself in
striving against what might defile the con-
science; or, as the word signifies, elaborately
wrought and dressed his conscience [Araffraga
xtrºvi), HOM. Think you, while other things
can not be dome without diligence and inten-
tion, that this is a work to be done at random ?
No, it is the most exact and curious of all
works, to have the conscience right, and keep
it so ; as watches, or other such neat pieces
of workmanship, except they be daily wound
up and skilfully handled, will quickly go
wrong. Yea, beside daily inspection, con-
science should, like those, at some times be
taken to pieces, and more accurately cleansed,
for the best kept will gather soil and dust.
Sometimes a Christian should set himself to
a more solemn examination of his own heart,
beyond his daily search ; and all little enough
to have so precious a good as this, a good
conscience. They who are most diligent and
vigilant, find nothing to abate as superfluous,
but still need of more. The heart is to be
kept with all diligence, or above all keeping.
Prov. iv. 23. Corruption within is ready to
grow and gain upon it, if it be never so little
neglected, and from without, to invade it and
get in. We breathe in a corrupt infected
air, and have need daily to antidote the heart
against it.
You that are studying to be excellent in
this art of a good conscience, go on, seek
daily progressin it. The study of conscience
is a more sweet, profitable study than that of
all science, wherein is much vexation, and,
for the most part, little or no fruit. Read this
book diligently, and correct your errata by
that other book, the word of God. Labor to
have it pure and right. Other books and
works are [Tsotsoyd] curious, and [rapspyā] by-
works, they shall not appear; but this is one
of the books that shall be opened in that
great day, according to which we must be
judged. Rev. xx. 12.
On this follows a good conversation, so in-
separably connected with a good conscience.
Grace is of a lively, active nature, and doth
act like itself. Holiness in the heart, will be
holiness in the life too ; not some good ac-
tions, but a good conversation, a uniform,
even tract of life, the whole revolution of it
regular. The inequality of some Christians’
ways doth breed much discredit to religion,
and discomfort to themselves.
But observe here, 1. The order of these
two. 2. The principle of both.
1. The order. First, the conscience good,
and then the conversation. Make the tree
good and the fruit will be good, says our Sa-
vior. Matt. xii. 33. So, here, a good con-
science is the root of a good conversation.
Most men begin at the wrong end of this
work. They would reform the outward man
first: that will do no good; it will be but dead
work. *
Do not rest upon external reformations, they
will not hold ; there is no abiding, nor any
advantage, in such a work. You think, when
reproved, “Oh I will mend and set about
the redress of some outward things.” But
this is as good as to do nothing. The mind
and conscience being defiled, as the apostle
speaks, Titus i. 15, doth defile all the rest: it
is a mire in the spring ; although the pipes
are cleansed, they will grow quickly foul
again. If Christians in their progress in grace
would eye this most, that the conscience be
growing purer, the heart more spiritual, the
affections more regular and heavenly, their
outward carriage would be holier; whereas
the outward work of performing duties, and
being much exercised in religion, may, by the
neglect of this, be labor in vain, and amend
nothing soundly. To set the outward actions
right, though with an honest intention; and
not so to regard and find out the inward dis-
254
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
order of the heart, whence that in the actions
flows, is but to be still putting the index of a
clock right with your finger, while it is foul,
or out of order within, which is a continual
business, and does no good. Oh! but a puri-
fied conscience, a soul renewed and refined
in its temper and affections, will make things
go right without, in all the duties and acts of
our callings.
2. The principle of good in both, is Christ:
Your good conversation in Christ. The con-
Versation is not good, unless in him; so neither
is the conscience.
[1..] In him, as to our persons: we must be
in him, and then, the conscience and conver-
sation will be good in him. The conscience
that is morally good, having some kind of
virtuous habits, yet being out of Christ, is
nothing but pollution in the sight of God. It
must be washed in his blood, ere it can be
clean ; all our pains will not cleanse it, floods
of tears will not do it; it is blood, and that
blood alone, that hath the virtue of purging
the conscience from dead works. Heb. ix. 14.
[2.] In him, as the perfect pattern of holi-
ness; the heart and life must be conformed to
him, and so made truly good.
|3.] In him, as the source of grace, whence
it is first derived, and always fed, and main-
tained, and made active: a Spirit goes forth
from him that cleanseth our spirits, and so,
makes our conversation clean and holy.
If thou wouldst have thy conscience and
hearts purified and pacified, and have thy life
certified, go to Christ for all, make use of him;
as of his good to wash off thy guiltiness, so
of his Spirit to purify and sanctify thee. If
thou wouldst have thy heart reserved for
God, pure as his temple; if thou wouldst have
thy lusts cast out which pollute thee, and
findest no power to do it; go to him, desire
him to scourge out that filthy rabble, that
abuse his house and make it a den of thieves.
Seek this, as the only way to have thy soul
and thy ways righted to be in Christ, and
then, walk in him. Let thy conversation be
in Christ. Study him, and follow him : look
on his way, on his graces, his obedience, and
humility, and meekness, till, by looking on
them, they make the very idea of thee new,
as the painter doth of a face he would draw
to the life. So behold his glory, that thou
mayest be transformed from glory to glory.
But as it is there added, this must be by the
Spirit of the Lord. 2 Cor. iii. 18. Do not,
therefore, look on his simply, as an example
without thee, but as life within thee. Having
received him, walk not only like him, but in
him, as the Apostle St. Paul speaks, Col. ii. 6.
And as the word is here, have your conversa-
tion, not only according to Christ, but in
Christ. Draw from his fulness grace for
grace. John. i. 16.
II. The other thing in the words, is, the
advantage of this good conscience and con-
versation. 1. There is even an external success
attends it, in respect of the malicious, ungodly
world: They shall be ashamed that falsely
accuse you. Thus often it is even most evident
to men; the victory of innocency, silent in-
nocency, most strongly confuting all calumny,
making the ungodly, false accusers hide their
heads. Thus, without stirring, the integrity
of a Christian conquers; as a rock, unremoved,
breaks the waters that are dashing against it.
And this is not only a lawful, but a laudable
way of revenge, shaming calumny out of it,
and punishing evil-speakers by well-doing ;
showing really how false their accusers were.
This is the most powerful apology and refuta-
tion; as the sophister who would prove there
was no motion, was best answered by the
philosopher's rising up and walking. And
without this good conscience and conversa-
tion, we cut ourselves short of other apologies
for religion, whatsoever we say for it. One
unchristian action will disgrace it more than
we can repair by the largest and best-framed
speeches on its behalf.
Let those, therefore, who have given their
names to Christ honor him, and their holy
profession, most this way. Speak for him as
occasion requires;–why should we not, pro-
vided it be with meekness and fear, as our
apostle hath taught?—but let this be the main
defence of religion: live suitably to it, and
commend it so. Thus all should do who are
called Christians; they should adorn that
holy profession with holy conversation. But
the most are nothing better than spots and
blots, some wallowing in the mire, and pro-
voking one another to all uncleanness. Oh
the unchristian life of Christians; an evil to
be much lamented, more than all the troubles
we sustain But these, indeed, do thus deny
Christ, and declare that they are not his. So
many as have any reality of Christ in you, be
so much the more holy, the more wicked the
rest are. Strive to make it up, and to honor
that name which they disgrace. And if they
will reproach you, because ye walk not with
them, and cast the mire of false reproaches
on you, take no notice, but go on your way;
it will dry, and easily rub off. Be not troubled
with misjudgings; shame them out of it by
your blameless and holy carriage, for that
will do most to put lies out of countenance.
However, if they continue impudent, the day
is at hand, wherein all the enemies of Christ
shall be all clothed over and covered with
shame, and they who have kept a good con-
science, and walked in Christ, shall lift up
their faces with joy.
2dly. There is an intrinsical good in this
goodness of conscience, that sweetens all suf-
ferings: as it follows,-
VER. 17. For it is better, if the will of God be so, that
ye suffer for well doing, than for evil doing.
THERE is a necessity of suffering in any way
wherein ye can walk; if ye choose the way
of wickedness, you shall not, by doing so,
escape suffering ; and that supposed, this is
by far the better, to suffer in well-doing, and
WER. 17.]
255
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
for it, than to suffer either for doing evil, or
simply to suffer in that way (as the words
run), kakotrol oivrus Táo Xeuv, lo suffer doing evil.
The way of the ungodly in not exempt
from suffering, even at present. Setting
aside the judgment and wrath to come, they
often suffer from the hands of men, whether
justly or unjustly, and often from the imme-
diate hand of God, who is always just, both
in this and the other, causing the sinner to
eat of the fruit of his own ways. Prov, i. 30.
When profane, ungodly men offer violences
and wrongs one to another, in this God is
just against both, in that wherein they them-
selves are both unjust : they are both rebel-
lious against him, and so, though they intend
not to take up his quarrel, he means it him-
self, and sets them to lash one another. The
wicked profess their combined enmity against
the children of God, yet they are not always
at peace among themselves: they often re-
vile and defame each other, and so it is kept
up on both sides. Whereas the godly can
not hold them game in that, being like their
Lord, who, when he was reviled, reviled not
again. Besides, although the ungodly flour-
ish at some times, yet they have their days
of suffering, are subject to the common mise-
ries of the life of man, and the common calami-
ties of evil times; the sword and the pesti-
lence, and such like public judgments. Now,
in what kind soever it be that they suffer,
they are at a great disadvantage, compared
with the godly, in their sufferings.
Here impure consciences may lie sleeping,
while men are at ease themselves; but when
any great trouble comes and shakes them,
then, suddenly, the conscience begins to
awake and bustle, and proves more grievous
to them, than all that comes on them from
without. When they remember their despi-
sing the ways of God, their neglecting of him
and holy things, whence they are convinced
how comfort might be reaped in these days
of distress, this cuts and galls them most,
looking back at their licentious profane ways;
each of them strikes to the heart. As the
apostle calls sin, the sting of death, so is it
of all sufferings, and the sting that strikes
deepest into the very soul: no stripes are like
those that are secretly given by an accusing
conscience. Surdo verbere cedit. JUV.
A sad condition it is, to have thence the
greatest anguish, whence the greatest comfort
should be expected ; to have thickest dark-
ness, whence they should look for the clear-
est light. Men who have evil consciences,
love not to be with them, are not much with
themselves: as St. Augustine compares them
to such as have shrewd wives, they love not
to be much at home. But yet, outward dis-
tress sets a man inward, as foul weather
drives him home, and there, where he should
find comfort, he is met with such accusations
as are like a continual dropping, as Solomon
speaks of a contentious woman, Prov. xix. 3.
It is a most wretched state, to live under suf-
ferings or afflictions of any kind, and be a
stranger to God; for a man to have God and
his conscience against him, that should be
his solace in times of distress; being knocked
off from the comforts of the world, whereon
he rested, and having no provision of spirit-
ual comfort within, nor expectation from
above.
But the children of God, in their sufferings,
especially in such as are encountered for God,
can retire within themselves, and rejoice in
the testimony of a good conscience, yea, in
the possession of Christ dwelling within
them. All the trouble that befalls them, is
but as the rattling of hail upon the tiles of
the house, to a man who is sitting within a
warm room at a rich banquet; and such is a
good conscience, a feast, yea, a continual
feast. The believer looks on his Christ, and
in him reads his deliverance from condemna-
tion, and that is a strong comfort, a cordial
that keeps him from fainting in the greatest
distresses. When the conscience gives this
testimony, that sin is forgiven, it raises the
soul above outward sufferings. Tell the
Christian of loss of goods, or liberty, or
friends, or life, he answers all with this:
Christ is mine, and my sin is pardoned;
that is enough for me. What would I not
have suffered, to have been delivered from the
wrath of God, if any suffering of mine in this
world could have done that ? Now that is
done to my hand, all other sufferings are
light ; they are light and but for a moment.
One thought of eternity drowns the whole
time of the world's duration, which is but as
one instant, or twinkling of an eye, between
eternity before, and eternity after; how much
less is any short life (and a small part of
that is spent in sufferings), yea, what is it,
though it were all sufferings without inter-
ruption, which yet it is not ' When I look
forward to the crown, all vanishes, and I think
it less than nothing. Now, these things the
good conscience speaks to the Christian in
his sufferings; therefore, certainly, his choice
is best, who provides it for his companion
against evil and troublous times. If moral
integrity went so far (as truly it did in some
men who had much of it), that they scorned
all hard encounters, and esteemed this a suf-
ficient bulwark, a strength impregnable, Hic
murus aheneus esto, nil conscire sibi, how
much more the Christian's good conscience,
which alone is truly such
As the Christian may thus look inward,
and rejoice in tribulation, so there is another
look, upward, that is here likewise mentioned,
that allays very much all the sufferings of the
saints: If the will of God be so.
The Christian mind hath still one eye to
this, looking above the hand of men, and all
inferior causes, in suffering, whether for the
name of God, or otherwise; he looks on the
sovereign will of God, and sweetly complies
with that in all. Neither is there anything
that doth more powerfully compose and quiet
296
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
the mind than this ; it makes it invincibly
firm and content, when it hath attained this
self-resignation to the will of God, so as to
agree to that in everything. This is the
very thing wherein tranquillity of spirit lies:
it is no riddle, nor hard to be understood, yet
few attain it. And, I pray you, what is
gained by our reluctances and repinings, but
pain to ourselves? God doth what he will,
whether we consent or not. Our disagree-
ing doth not prevent his purposes, but our
own peace: if we will not be led, we are
drawn. We must suffer, if he will ; but if
we will what he wills, even in suffering, that
makes it sweet and easy ; when our mind
goes along with his, and we willingly move
with that stream of providence, which will
carry us with it, even though we row against
it; in which case we still have nothing but
toil and weariness for our pains.
But this hard argument of necessity, is
needless to the child of God, who, persuaded
of the wisdom and love of his Father, knows
that to be truly best for him that his hand
bestows. Sufferings are unpleasant to the
flesh, and it will grumble; but the voice of
the spirit of God, in his children, is that of
of that good king (Isa. xxxix. 8), Good is the
word of the Lord. Let him do with me as
seemeth good in his eyes. My foolish heart
would think these things I suffer might be
abated, but my wise and heavenly Father
thinks otherwise. He hath his design of
honor to himself, and good to me in these,
which I would be loath to cross if I might. I
might do God more service by those tempo-
ral advantages, but doth not he know best
what is fit? Can not he advance his grace
more by the want of these things I desire,
than I could do myself by having them 2
Can not he make me a gainer by sickness
and poverty, and disgraces, and loss of friends
and children, by making up all in himself,
and teaching me more of his all-sufficiency 2
Yea, even concerning the affairs of my soul,
I am to give up all to his good pleasure.
Though I desire the light of his countenance
above all things in this world, yet, if he see
fit to hide it sometimes, if that be his will,
let me not murmur. There is nothing lost
by this obedient temper; yea, what way so-
ever he deals with us, there is much more
advantage in it. No soul shall enjoy so
much in all estates, as that which hath di-
vested and renounced itself, and hath no will
but God's.
VER. 18. For Christ also hath once suffered for sins,
the just for the unjust (that he might bring us to
God), being put to death in the flesh, but quick-
ened by the Spirit.
THE whole life of a Christian, is a steady
aiming at conformity with Christ; so that in
anything, whether doing or suffering, there
can be no argument so apposite and persua-
sive as his example, and no exercise of obe-
dience, either active or passive, so difficult,
but the view and contemplation of that ex-
ample will powerfully sweeten it. The apos-
tle doth not decline the frequent use of it.
Here we have it thus: For Christ also suf-
ered.
Though the doctrine of Christian suffering,
is the occasion of his speaking of Christ's
suffering, yet he insists on it beyond the sim-
ple necessity of that argument, for its own
excellency and for further usefulness. So we
shall consider the double capacity. I. As an
encouragement and engagement for Chris-
tians to suffer. II. As the great point of
their faith, whereon all their hopes and hap-
piness depend, being the means of their res-
toration to God.
I. The due consideration of Christ’s suffer-
ings doth much temper all the sufferings of
Christians, especially such as are directly for
Christ.
It is some known ease to the mind, in any
distress, to look upon examples of the like, or
greater distress, in present or former times,
Ferre quam sortem patiuntur omnes. It di-
verts the eye from continual poring on our
own suffering ; and, when we return to view
it again, it lessens it, abates of the imagined
bulk and greatness of it. Thus public, thus
spiritual troubles are lightened ; and particu-
larly the sufferings and temptations of the
godly, by the consideration of this as their
common lot, their highway, not new in the
person of any : No temptation has befallen
$/ou, but what is common to men. 1 Cor. x.
13. If we trace the lives of the most em-
inent saints, shall we not find every nota-
ble step that is recorded, marked with a new
cross, one trouble following on another, velut
unda pellitur unda, as the waves do, in an
incessant succession ? Is not this manifest
in the life of Abraham, and of Jacob, and the
rest of God’s worthies, in the Scriptures 2
And doth not this make it an unreasonable,
absurd thought, to dream of an exemption ?
Would any one have a new untrodden way
cut out for him, free of thorns, and strewed
with flowers all along 2 Does he expect to
meet with no contradictions, nor hard meas-
ure from the world, or imagine that there
may be such a dexterity necessary, as to keep
its good will, and the friendship of God too !
This will not be ; and it is a universal con-
clusion, All that will live godly in Christ Je-
sus, must suffer persecution. 2 Tim. iii. 12.
This is the path to the kingdom, that which
all the sons of God, the heirs of it, have gone
in, even Christ; according to that well known
word, One son without sin, but not one with-
out suffering : Christ also suffered.
The example and company of the saints in
suffering, is very considerable, but that of
Christ is more so than any other, yea,
than all the rest together. Therefore the
apostle, having , represented the former at
large, ends in this, as the top of all, Heb. xii.
1, 2. There is a race set before us, it is to be
run, and run with patience, and without faint-
ing: now, he tells us of a cloud of witnesses,
WER. 18.]
257
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
a cloud made up of instances of believers suf-
fering, before us, and the heat of the day
wherein we run is somewhat cooled even by
that cloud compassing us; but the main
strength of our comfort here, lies in looking
to Jesus, in the eying of his sufferings and
their issue. The considering and contempla-
ting of him will be the º cordial,
will keep you from wearying and fainting in
the way, as it is verse 3.
The singular power of this instance, lies in
many particulars considerable in it. To spe-
cify some chief things briefly in the steps of
the present words: Consider, 1. The great-
ness of the example.
[1..] The greatness of the person, Christ,
which is marked out to us by the manner of
expression [kai Xotorós] Christ also ; besides
and beyond all others, even Christ himself.
There can be no higher example. Not
only are the sons of adoption sufferers, but the
begotten, the only begotten Son, the eternal
heir of glory, in whom all the rest have their
title, their sonship and heirship, derived from,
and dependant on his ; not only all the saints,
but the king of Saints. Who now shall re-
pine at suffering ? Shall the wretched sons
of men refuse to suffer, after the suffering of
the spotless, glorious Son of God 2 As St.
Bernard speaks of pride, Ubi se humiliavit
Majestas, vermiculus infletur et intumescat—
After majesty, highest majesty, to teach us
humility, hath so humbled himself, how
wicked and impudent a thing will it be for a
worm to swell, to be high conceited . Since
thus our Lord hath taught us by suffering in
his own person, and hath dignified sufferings
so, we should certainly rather be ambitious
than afraid of them.
[2.] The greatness and the continuance of
his sufferings. That which the apostle speaks
here, of his once suffering, hath its truth:
taking in all, He suffered once ; his whole
life was one continued line of suffering, from
the manger to the cross. All that ſay be-
tween was suitable ; his estate and entertain-
ment throughout his whole life, agreed well
With so mean a beginning, and so reproach-
ful an end, of it. Forced upon a flight, while
he could not go, and living till he appeared in
public, in a very mean despised condition, as
the carpenter's son; and, afterward, his best
Works paid with envy and revilings, called a
wine-bibber, and a caster out of devils by the
prince of devils ; his life often laid in wait
and sought for. Art thou mean in thy birth
and life, despised, misjudged. and reviled, on
all hands 3 Look how it was with him, who
had more right than thou hast, to better en-
tertainment in the world. Thou wilt not
deny it was his own ; it was made by him, and
he was in it, and it knew him not. Are thy
friends harsh to thee ? He came unto his
own, and his own received him not. Hast
thou a mean cottage, or ar, thou drawn from
it and hast no dwelling, and art thou every
Way poor and ill-accommodated 2 He was
ſ
as poor as thou canst be, and had not where
to lay his head, worse provided than the
birds and fores 1 But them, consider to what
a height his sufferings rose in the end, that
most remarkable part of them here meant by
his once suffering for sins. If thou shouldst
be cut off by a violent death, or in the prime
of thy years, mayest thou not look upon him
as going before thee in both these ? And in
so ignominious a way ! Scourged, buffeted,
and spit on, he endured all, He gave his back
to the smiters, and then, as the same prophet
hath it, He was numbered among the trans-
gressors. Isa. liii. ult. When they had used
film with all that shame, they hanged him
between two thieves, and they that passed
by wagged their heads, and darted taunts at
him, as at a mark fixed to the cross: they
scoffed and said, He saved others, himself he
can not save. He endured the cross, and de-
spised the shame, says the apostle, Heb. xii. 2.
Thus we see the outside of his sufferings. But
the Christian is subject to grievous tempta-
tions and sad desertions, which are heavier
by far than the sufferings which indeed the
apostle speaks of here. Yet even in these,
this same argument of his holds. For our
Savior is not unacquainted with, nor ignorant
of, either of those, though still without sin.
If any of that had been in any of his suffer-
ings, it had not furthered, but undone all our
comfort in him. But tempted he was ; He
suffered that way too, and the temptations
were terrible, as you know. And was there
not some strong conflict when he fell down
and prayed in the garden, and sweat drops of
blood 2 Was there not an awful eclipse, when
he cried out on the cross, My God, my God.
why hast thou forsaken me & So that, even in
these, we may apply this comfort, and stay
ourselves or our souls on him, and go to him
as a compassionate High-Priest. Heb. iv. 15.
For Christ also suffered.
2. Consider the fitness of the example. As
the same is every way great, yea, greatest,
so it is fit, the fittest to take with a Chris-
rian, to set before him, as being so near a
pattern, wherein he hath so much interest.
As the argument is strong in itself. SO, to the
new man, the Christian man, it is particu-
larly strongest; it binds him most, as it is not
far fetched, but ea emplum domesticum, a home
patterm ; as when you persuade men to virtue,
by the example of those that they have a near
relation to. They are his servants, and shall
they, or would they, think to be greater than
their Master, to be exempt from his lot in the
world 2 They are his soldiers, and will they
refuse to follow him, and to endure with him
Suffer hardship, says the apostle to Timothy,
as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. 2 Tim. ii. 3.
Will not a word from him put a vigor in them
to go after him, whether upon any march or
service, when he calls them friends, Cºmmit:
itones, as they tell us was Julius Caesar's
words which wrought so much on his train-
ed bands? Yea, He is not ashamed to call
258
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
them brethren (Heb. ii. 11), and will they be
ashamed to share with him, and to be known
by their suitable estate, to be his brethren 2
3. Consider the efficacy of the example.
There is, from these sufferings of Christ, such
a result of safety and comfort to a Christian,
as makes them a most effectual encourage-
ment to suffering, which is this: if he suffer-
ed once, and that was for sin, now that heavy,
intolerable suffering for sin is once taken out
of the believer's way, it makes all other suf-
ferings light, exceeding light, as nothing in
his account. He suffered once for sin, so that
to them who lay hold on him this holds sure,
that sin is never to be suffered for in the way
of strict justice again, as not by him, so not
by them who are in him ; for He suffered for
sins once, and it was for their sins, every poor
believer's. So, now the soul, finding itself
rid of that fear, goes cheerfully through all
other hazards and sufferings.
Whereas the soul, perplexed about that
question, finds no relief in all other enjoy-
ments; all propositions of lower comforts are
unsavory and troublesome to it. Tell it of
peace and prosperity ; say, however the world
go, you shall have ease and pleasure, and
you shall be honored and esteemed by all;
though you could make a man sure of these,
yet if his conscience be working and stirred
about the matter of his sin, and the wrath of
God which is tied close to sin, he will won-
der at your impertinency, in that you speak
so far from the purpose. Say what you will
of these, he still asks, What do you mean by
this 2 Those things answer not to me. Do
you think I can find comfort in them, so long
as my sin is unpardoned, and there is a sen-
tence of eternal death, standing above my
head 2 I feel even an impress of somewhat
of that hot indignation; some flashes of it
flying and lighting upon the face of my soul,
and how can I take pleasure in these feelings
i. speak of 2 And though I should be sense-
less, and feel nothing of this all my life, yet,
how soon shall I have done with it, and the
delights that reach no further. And then to
have everlasting burnings, an etermity of
wrath to enter to . How can I be satisfied
with that estate:—All you offer a man in this
posture, is as if you should set dainty fare,
and bring music with it, before a man lying
almost pressed to death under great weights,
and should bid him eat and be merry, but lift
not off his pressure: you do but mock the
man and add to his misery. On the contrary,
he that hath got but a view of his Christ,
and reads his own pardon in Christ's suffer-
ings, can rejoice in this, in the midst of all
other sufferings, and look on death without ap-
prehension, yea, with gladness, for the sting
is out. Christ hath made all pleasant to him
by this one thing, that he suffered once for
sins. Christ hath perfumed the cross and the
grave, and made all sweet. The pardoned
man finds himself light, skips and leaps, and,
through Christ strengthening him, he can
W
encounter any trouble. If you think to shut
up his spirit within outward sufferings, he is
now, as Samson in his strength, able to carry
away on his back the gates with which you
would enclose him. Yea, he can submit pa-
tiently to the Lord's hand in any correction:
Thou hast forgiven my sin, therefore deal
with me as thou wilt; all is well.
Refl. 1. Let us learn to consider more deep-
ly, and to esteem more highly, Christ and his
suffering, to silence our grumbling at our petty
light crosses; for so they are, in comparison
of his. Will not the great odds of his per-
fect innocency, and of the nature and mea-
sure of his sufferings; will not the sense of
the redemption of our souls from death by his
death; will none of these, nor all of them,
argue us into more thankfulness and love to
him, and patience in our trials 2 Why will
we then be called Christians? It is impossi-
ble to be fretful and malcontent with the
Lord's dealing with us in any kind, till first
we have forgotten how he dealt with his
dearest Son for our sakes. As St. Bernard
speaks, Enimvero nons entient sua, qui illius
vulnera intuentur : They truly feel not their
own wounds, who contemplate his. But
these things are not weighed by the most.
We hear and speak of them, but our hearts
receive not the impressions of them : there-
fore we repine against our Lord and Father,
and drown a hundred great blessings in any
little trouble that befalls us.
Refl. 2. Seek surer interest in Christ and his
suffering, than the most either have attained,
or are aspiring to ; otherwise all that he suf-
fered here will afford thee no ease or comfort
in any kind of suffering. No, though thou
suffer for a good cause, even for his cause,
still this will be an extraneous, foreign thing
to thee, and to tell thee of his sufferings, will
work no otherwise with thee than some other
common story. And as in the day of peace
thou regardest it no more, so in the day of thy
trouble, thou shall receive no more comfort
from it. Other things which you esteem-
ed, shall have no comfort to speak to you :
though you pursue them with words (as Solo-
mon says of the poor man's friends, Prov. xix.
7), yet they shall be wanting to you. And
then you will surely find how happy it were
to have this to turn you to, that the Lord
Jesus suffered for sins, and for your sins, and
therefore hath made it a light and comforta-
ble business to you, to undergo momentary
passing sufferings.
Days of trial will come ; do you not see
they are on us already ? Be persuaded, there-
fore, to turn your eyes and desires more toward
Christ. This is the thing we would still press:
the support and happiness of your souls lie on
it. But you will not believe it. Oh, that you
knew the comforts and sweetness of Christ :
Oh, that one would speak, who knew more
of them Were you once but entered into
this knowledge of him, and the virtue of his
sufferings, you would account all your days
WER. 18.]
259
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
but lost wherein you have not known him ;
and in all times, your hearts would find no re-
freshment like to the remembrance of his love.
Having somewhat considered these suffer-
ings, as the apostle's argument for his present
purpose, we come now,
I1. To take a nearer view of the particulars
by which he illustrates them, as the main
point of our faith and comfort. Of them, here
are two things to be remarked, their cause
and their kind.
First. Their cause; both their meritorious
cause and their final cause; first, what in us
procured these sufferings unto Christ, and
secondly, what those his sufferings procured
unto us. Our guiltiness brought suffering upon
him ; and his suffering brings us unto God.
1st. For the meritorious cause, what in us
brought sufferings on Christ. The evil of
sin hath the evil of punishment inseparably
connected with it. We are under a natural
obligation of obedience unto God, and he just-
ly urges it; so that where the command of
his law is broken, the curse of it presently
followeth. . And though it was simply in the
power of the supreme lawgiver to have dis-
pensed with the infliction, yet, having in his
wisdom purposed to be known a just God in
that way, following forth the tenor of his law,
of necessity there must be a suffering for sin.
Thus, the angels who keep not their station,
falling from it, fell into a dungeon, where
they are, under chains of darkness, reserved
to the judgment of the great day. Jude 6.
Man also fell under the sentence of death, but
in this is the difference between man and
them : they were not one of them, as the
parent or common root of the rest, but each
one fell or stood for himself alone, so a part
of them only perished; but man fell altogeth-
er, so that not one of all the race could escape
condemnation, unless some other way of
satisfaction be found out. And here it is:
Christ suffered for sins, the just for the un-
just. Father, says he, I have glorified thee
on earth. John xvii. 3. In this plot, indeed,
do all the divine attributes shine in their full
lustre; infinite mercy, and immense justice,
and power, and wisdom. Looking on Christ
as ordained for that purpose, I have found a
ransom, says the Father, one fit to redeem
man, a kinsman, one of that very same stock,
the Son of Man: one able to redeem man by
satisfying me, and fulfilling all I lay upon
him; My son, my only begotten Son, in whom
my soul delights. And he is willing, under-
takes, all, says, Lo, I come, Psalm xl. 7: We
are agreed upon the way of this redemption;
yea, upon the persons to be redeemed. It is
not a roving blind bargain, a price paid for
we know not whom. Hear his own words:
Thou hast given the Son (says the Son to the
Father) power over all flesh, that he should
give eternal life to as many as Thou hast given
Aim ; and all mine are thine, and thine are
£º. and I am glorified in them. John xvii.
y J. ve
For the sins of these he suffered, standing
in their room; and what he did and suffered
according to the law of that covenant, was
done and suffered by them. All the sins of
all the elect were made up into a huge bun-
dle, and bound upon his shoulders. So the
prophet speaks in their name: Surely he hath
borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows :
and, The Lord laid [or made to meet] on him
tke iniquity of us all. Isa. liii. 5. He had
spoken of many ways of sin, and said, We
Have turned every one to his own way; here
he binds up all in the word iniquity, as all
one sin, as if it were that one transgression
of the first Adam, that brought on the curse
of his seed, borne by the second Adam, to
take it away from all that are his seed, who
are in him as their root.
He is the great High Priest appearing be-
fore God with the names of the elect upon
his shoulders, and in his heart bearing them
and all their burdens, and offering for them,
not any other sacrifice than himself; charging
all their sin on himself, as the priest did the
sins of the people on the head of the sacrifice.
He, by the Eternal Spirit, says the apostle,
offered up himself without spot unto God,
spotless and sinless, Heb. ix. 14; and so he
alone is fit to take away our sin, being a satis-
factory oblation for it. He suffered : in him
was our ransom, and thus it was paid. In
the man, Christ, was the Deity, and so his
blood was, as the apostle calls it, the blood
of God, Acts xx. 28; and he being pierced,
it came forth, and was told down as the rich
price of our redemption. Not silver, nor
old, nor corruptible things, as our apostle
ath it before, but the precious blood of
Christ, as of a lamb without b/emish.
Obs. 1. Shall any man offer to bear the
name of a Christian, who pleases himself in
the way of sin, and can delight and sport
himself with it, when he considers this, that
Christ suffered for sin 7 Do not think it, you
who still account sin sweet, which he found
so bitter, and account that light, which was
so heavy to him, and made his soul heavy to
the death. You are yet far off from him. If
you were in him, and one with him, there
would be some harmony of your hearts with
his, and some sympathy with those suffer-
ings, as endured by your Lord, your Head,
and for you. They who, with a right view,
see him as pierced by their sins, that sight
pierces them, and makes them mourn, brings
forth tears, beholding the gushing forth of
his blood. This makes the real Christian
an avowed enemy to sin. Shall I ever be
friends with that, says he, which killed, my
Lord 2 No, but I will ever kill it, and, do lt
by applying his death. The true peitent
is sworn to be the death of sin: he māy be
surprised by it, but there is no possibility of
reconcilement betwixt them. e e
Thou that livest kindly and familiarly with
sin, and either openly declarest thyself for it,
or hast a secret love for it, where canst thou
260
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
reap any comfort? . Not from these suffer-
ings. To thee, continuing in that posture, it
is all one as if Christ had not suffered for
sins ; yea, it is worse than if no such thing
had been, that there is salvation, and terms
of mercy offered unto thee, and yet thou per-
ishest ; that there is balm in Gilead, and yet
thou art not healed. And if thou hast not
comfort from Jesus crucified, I know not
whence thou canst have any that will hold
out. Look about thee, tell me what thou
seest, either in thy possession or in thy hopes,
that thou esteemest most, and layest thy con-
fidence on. Or, to deal more liberally with
thee, see what estate thou wouldst choose,
hadst thou thy wish ; stretch thy fancy to
devise an earthly happiness. These times
are full of unquietness; but give thee a time
of the calmest peace, not an air of trouble
stirring ; put thee where thou wilt, far off
from fear of sword and pestilence, and en-
compass thee with children, friends, and pos-
sessions, and honors, and comfort, and health
to enjoy all these ; yet one thing thou must
admit in the midst of them all; within a
while thou must die, and having no real
portion in Christ, but only a deluding dream
of it, thou sinkest through that death into
another death far more terrible. Of all thou
enjoyest, nothing goes along with thee but
unpardoned sin, and that delivers thee up to
endless sorrow. Oh that you were wise, and
would consider your latter end ? Do not still
gaze about you upon trifles, but yet be en-
treated to take notice of your Savior, and re-
ceive him, that he may be yours. Fasten
your belief and your love on him. Give all
your heart to him, who stuck not to give
himself an offering for your sins.
Obs. 2. To you who have fled unto him
for refuge, if sensible of the church's dis-
tress, be upheld with this thought, that he
who suffered for it, will not suffer it to be
undone. All the rage of enemies, yea, the
ates of hell shall not prevail against it.
e may, for a time, suffer the church to be
brought low for the sins of his people, and
other wise reasons, but he will not utterly
forsake it. Though there is much chaff, yet
he hath a precious number in these king-
doms, for whom he shed his blood: many
God hath called, and many he has yet to callſ;
he will not lose any of his flock which he
bought so dear (Acts xx. 28), and for their
sake he will, at one time or another, repair
our breaches, and establish his throne in
these kingdoms. For yourselves, what can
affright you while this is in your eye? Let
others tremble at the apprehension of sword
or pestilence; but surely, you have for them
and all other hazards, a most satisfying an-
swer in this: my Christ hath suffered for
sin; I am not to fear that ; and that set aside,
I know the worst is but death—I am wrong;
truly, that is the best: to be dissolved, and
be with Christ, is [roxXà påXXov Kpetogov) much
more better. Phil. i. 23. So being justified
by faith, believers have peace with God, and
rejoice in hope of the glory of God, gloriſy-
ing even in tribulations. Rom. v. 1–3.
This were a happy estate indeed. But
what shall they think who have no assur-
ance, they who doubt that Christ is theirs,
and that he suffered for their sins 2 I know
no way but to believe on him, and then you
shall know that he is yours. From this ari-
ses the grand mistake of many: they would
first know that Christ is theirs, and then
would believe; which can not be, because
he becomes ours by believing. It is that
which gives title and propriety to him. . .He
is set before sinners as a Savior who hath
suffered for sin that they may look to him
and be saved ; that they may lay over their
souls on him, and then they may be assured
he suffered for them.
Say, then, what is it that scares thee from
Christ? This, thou seest, is a poor ground-
less exception, for he is set before thee as a
Savior to believe on, that so he may be thy
Savior. Why wilt thou not come unto him 7
Why refusest thou to believe? Art thou a
sinner ? Art thou unjust 2 Then, he is fit
for thy case: he suffered for sins, the just
for the unjust. Oh !, but so many and so
great sins! Yea, is that it? It is true in-
deed, and good reason thou hast to think so :
but 1st, Consider whether they be excepted
in the proclamation of Christ, the pardon
that comes in his name: if not, if he make
no exception, why wilt thou ? 2dly, Con-
sider if thou wilt call them greater than this
sacrifice, he suffered. Take due notice of
the greatness and worth, first, of his person,
and then, of his sufferings, and thou wilt not
dare to say thy sin goes above the value of
his suffering, or that thou art too unjust
for him to justify thee. Be as unrighteous
as thou canst be, art thou convinced of it 2
them, know that Jesus the just is more righ-
teous than thy unrighteousness. And, after
all is said that any sinner hath to say, they
are yet, without exception, blessed wbo trust
in him. Psalm ii. ult.
2dly. We have the final cause of his suf-
ferings, That he might bring us to God..] . It
is the chief point of wisdom, to proportion
means to their end: therefore, the all-wise
God, in putting his only Son to so hard a
task, had a high end in this, and this was it,
That he might bring us unto God. In this we
have three things, 1st, The nature of this good,
nearness unto God. 2dly, Our deprivenent
of it, by our own sin. .3dly, Our restoration
to it, by Christ's sufferings.
[1..] The nature of this good. God hath
suited every creature he hath made, with a
convenient good to which it tends, and in the
obtainment of which it rests and is satisfied.
Natural bodies have all their own natural
place, whither, if not hindered, they move
incessantly till they be in it; and they de-
clare, by resting there, that they are (as I
may say) where they would be. Sensitive
WER. 18.]
261
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
creatures are carried to seek a sensitive good,
as agreeable to their rank in being, and, at-
taining that, aim no further. Now, in this is
the excellency of man, that he is made capa-
ble of a communion with his Maker, and, be-
cause capable of it, is unsatisfied without it;
the soul being cut out, so to speak, to that
largeness, can not be filled with less. Though
he is fallen from his right to that good, and
from all right desire of it, yet, not from a ca-
pacity of it, no, nor from a necessity of it, for
the answering and filling of his capacity.
Though the heart once gone from God,
turns continually further away from him,
and moves not toward him till it be renew-
ed, yet even in that wandering, it retains
that natural relation to God, as its centre,
that it hath no true rest elsewhere, nor can
by any means find it. It is made for him,
and is therefore still restless till it meet with
him.
It is true, the natural man takes much
pains to quiet his heart by other things, and
digests many vexations with hopes of con-
tentment in the end and accomplishment of
some design he hath ; but still the heart mis-
gives. . Many times he attains not the thing
he seeks; but if he do, yet he never attains
the satisfaction he seeks and expects in it;
but only learns from that to desire something
further, and still hunts on after a fancy, drives
his own shadow before him, and never over-
takes it; and if he did, yet it is but a shadow.
And so in running from God, besides the sad
end, he carries an interwoven punishment
with his sin, the natural disquiet and vexa-
tion of his spirit, fluttering to and fro, and
Jinding no rest for the soul of his foot ; the
waters of inconstancy and vanity covering the
whole face of the earth.
We study to debase our souls, and to make
them content with less than they are made
for ; yea, we strive to make them carnal, that
they may be pleased with sensible things.
And in this, men attain a brutish content for
a time, forgetting their higher good. But
certainly, we can not think it sufficient, and
that no more were to be desired beyond ease
and plenty, and pleasures of sense, for then,
a beast in good case and a good pasture,
might contest with us in point of happiness,
and carry it away ; for that sensitive good he
enjoys without sin, and without the vexation
that is mixed with us in all.
These things are too gross and heavy. The
Soul, the immortal soul, descended from heav-
en, must either be more happy, or remain
miserable. The highest, the Increated Spirit,
is the proper good, the Father of spirits, that
pure and full good which raises the soul
above itself; whereas all other things draw
it down below itself. So, then, it is never
well with the soul, but when it is near unto
God, yea, in its union with him, married to
him ; mismatching itself elsewhere, it hath
never anything but shame and sorrow. All
that forsake thee shall be ashamed, says the
prophet, Jer. xvii. 13; and the psalmist, The
that are afar off from thee shall perish, Psal.
lxxiii. 27. And this is indeed our natural
miserable condition, and it is often expressed
this way, by estrangedness and distance from
God. See Eph. ii., where the Gentiles are
spoken of as far off by their profession and
nation, but both Jews and Gentiles are far off
by their natural foundation, and both are
brought near by the blood of the New Cove-
Inant.
[2] And this is the second thing here im-
plied, that we are far off by reason of sin ;
otherwise there were no need of Christ, espe-
cially in this way of suffering for sin, to brin
us unto God. At the first, sin, as the breac
of God's command, broke off man, and sepa-
rated him from God, and ever since the soul
remains naturally remote from God. 1. It
lies under a sentence of exile, pronounced by
the justice of God; condemned to banishment
from God, who is the life and light of the
soul, as the soul itself is of the body. 2. It
is under a flat impossibility of returning by
itself; and that in two respects; first, be-
cause of the guiltiness of sin standing be-
tween, as an unpassable mountain or wall of
separation ; secondly, because of the domin-
ion of sin keeping the soul captive, yea, still
drawing it farther off from God, increasing
the distance and the enmity every day. Nor
is there either in heaven or under heaven,
any way to remove this enmity, and make up
this distance, and restore man to the posses-
sion of God, but this one, by Christ, and by
him suffering for sins.
[3.] Our restoration to nearness to God is
by Christ's sufferings. He endured the sen-
tence pronounced against man, yea, even in
this particular notion of it, as a sentence
of exile from God: one main ingredient in
his suffering was that sensible desertion by
his heavenly Father, of which he cried out,
My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken
me 2 And, by suffering the sentence pro-
nounced, he took away the guiltiness of sin,
he himself being spotless and undefiled. For
such a high priest became us, Heb. .vii. 26:
the more defiled we were, the more did we
stand in need of an undefiled priest and sacri-
fice; and he was both. Therefore the apos-
tle here very fitly mentions this qualification
of our Savior, as necessary for restoring us
unto God, the just for the unjust. So taking
on himself, and taking away, the guilt of
sin, setting his strong shoulder to remove that
mountain, he made way or access for man
unto God.
This the apostle hath excellently express-
ed, Eph. ii. 16. He hath reconciled us by his
cross, having slain the enmity: He killed the
quarrel between God and us, killed it by his
death ; brings the parties together, and hath
laid a sure foundation of agreement in his own
sufferings; appeases his Father's wrath by
them, and by the same, appeases the sinner's
conscience. All that God hath to say in
*
262
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
point of Justice, is answered there; all that
the poor humbled sinner hath to say, is an-
swered too. He hath offered up such an
atonement as satisfies the father, so that he
is content that sinners should come in and be
reconciled. And then, Christ gives notice of
this to the soul, to remove all jealousies. It
is full of fear: though it would, it dares not
approach unto God, apprehending him to be
a consuming fire. They who have done the
offence are usually the hardest to reconcile,
because they are still in doubt of their par-
don. But Christ assures the soul of a full
and hearty forgiveness, quenching the fla-
ming wrath of God by his blood. No, says
Christ, upon my warrant come in ; you will
now find my Father otherwise than you im-
agine : he hath declared himself satisfied at
my hands, and is willing to receive you, to
be heartily and thoroughly friends; never to
hear a word more of the quarrel that was be-
tween you ; to grant a full oblivion. And if
the soul bear back still through distrust, he
takes it by the hand, and draws it forward,
leads it unto his Father (as the word ſporayáyn
imports); presents it to him, and leaves not
the matter till it be made a full and sure
agreement.
But for this purpose, that the soul may be
both able and willing to come unto God, the
sufferings of Christ take away that other im-
pediment. As they satisfy the sentence, and
thereby remove the guiltiness of sin, so he
hath by them purchased a deliverance from
the tyrannous power of sin, which detains the
soul from God, after all the way has been
made for its return. And he hath a power
of applying his sufferings to the soul's de-
liverance, in that kind too. He opens the
prison-doors to them who are led captive ;
and because the great chain is upon the heart
willingly enthralled in sin, he, by his sover-
eign power, takes off that, frees the heart
from the love of sin, and shows what a base
slavish condition it is in, by representing, in
his effectual way, the goodness of God, his
readiness to entertain a returning sinner, and
the sweetness and happiness of communion
with him. Thus he powerfully persuades the
heart to shake off all, and, without further
delay, to return unto God, so as to be received
into favor and friendship, and to walk in the
way of friendship with God, to give up itself
to his obedience, to disdain the vile service
of sin, and live suitably to the dignity of fel-
lowship and union with God.
And there is nothing but the power of Christ
alone that is able to effect this, to persuade a
sinner to return, to bring home a heart unto
God. Common mercies of God, though they
have a leading faculty to repentance (Rom.
ii. 4), yet the rebellious heart will not be led
by them. The judgments of God, public or
personal, though they ought to drive us to
God, yet the heart, unchanged, runs the fur-
ther from God. Do we not see it by ourselves
and other sinners about us? They look not
at all toward him who smites, much less do
they return ; or if any more serious thoughts
of returning arise upon the surprise of an af
fliction, how soon vanish they, either the
stroke abating, or the heart, by time, growing
hard and senseless under it ! Indeed, when
it is renewed and brought in by Christ, then
all other things have a sanctified infiuence,
according to their quality, to stir up a Chris-
tian to seek after fuller communion, closer
walk, and nearer access to God. But leave
Christ out, I say, and all other means work
not this way: neither the works nor the word
of God sounding daily in his ear, Return, re-
turn. Let the noise of the rod speak it too,
and both join together to make the cry the
louder, yet the wicked will do wickedly, Dan-
xii. 10; will not hearken to the voice of God,
will not see the hand of God lifted up, Isaiah
xxvi. 11; will not be persuaded to go in and
seek peace and reconcilement with God,
though declaring himself provoked to punish,
and to behave himself as an enemy against
his own people. How many are there, who,
in their own particular, have been very sharp-
ly lashed with divers scourges on their bodies,
or their families, and yet are never a whit the
nearer God for it all, their hearts are proud,
and earthly, and vain, as ever ! and let him
lay on never so much, they will still be the
same. Only a Divine virtue, going forth from
Christ lifted up, draws men unto him; and,
being come unto him, he brings them unto
the Father.
Reflection 1. You who are still strangers to
God, who declare yourselves to be so, by liv-
ing as strangers far off from him, do not still
continue to abuse yourselves so grossly. Can
you think any consolation yours that arises
from the sufferings of Christ, while it is so
evident they have not gained their end upon
you, have not brought you to God 2 Truly,
most of you seem to think that our Lord Je-
sus suffered rather to the end we might neg
lect God, and disobey him securely, than to
restore us to him. Hath he purchased you a
liberty to sin 2 Or is it not deliverance from
sin, which alone is true liberty, the thing he
aimed at, and agreed for, and laid down his
life for 2
2. Why let we his blood still run in vain as
to us? He hath by it opened up our way to
God, and yet we refuse to make use of it!
Oh how few come in . Those who are
brought unto God, and received into friend-
ship with him, entertain that friendship, they
delight in his company, love to be much with
him: is it so with us? By being so near, they
become like unto him, know his will better
every day, and grow more conformable to it.
But, alas! in the most, there is nothing of
this.
3. But even they who are brought unto God
may be faulty in this, in part, not applying so
sweet a privilege. They can comply and be
too friendly with the vain world, can pass
many days without a lively communion with
WER. 18.]
263
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
God, not aspiring to the increase of that, as
the thing our Lord hath purchased for us, and
that wherein all our happiness and welfare
lie, here and hereafter. Your hearts are
cleaving to folly ; you are not delighting your-
selves in the Lord, not refreshed with this
nearness to him, and union with him ; your
thoughts are not often on it, nor is it your
study to walk conformably to it: certainly it
ought to be thus, and you should be per-
suaded to endeavor that it may be thus with
OUI.
y 4. Remember this for your comfort, that as
you are brought unto God by Jesus Christ, so
you are kept in that union by him. It is a
firmer knot than the first was ; there is no
power of hell can dissolve it. He suffered
once to bring us once unto God, never to de-
part again. As he suffered once for all, so
we are brought once for all. We may be
sensibly nearer at one time than at another,
but yet we can never be separate or cut off,
being once knit by Christ, as the bond of our
union. Neither principalities, nor powers,
(&c.) shall be able to separate us from the love
of God, because it holds in Christ Jesus our
Lord. Rom. viii. 37, 38.
Secondly, as to the kind of our Lord's suf-
ferings: Being put to death in the flesh, but
quickened by the Spirit..] The true life of a
Christian, is, to eye Christ in every step of
his ife, both as his rule, and as his strength ;
looking to him as his pattern : both in doing
and suffering, and drawing power from him
for going through both ; for the look of faith
doth that, fetches life from Jesus to enable it
for all, being without him able for nothing.
Therefore the apostle doth still set this before
his brethren ; and having mentioned Christ's
sufferings in general, the condition and end
of it, he here specifies the particular kind of
it, that which was the utmost point, put to
death in the flesh, and then adds this issue
out of it, quickened by the Spirit.
This is at once the strongest engagement,
and the strongest encouragement. Was he,
our Head, crowned with thorns, and shall the
body look for garlands 2 Are we redeemed
from hell and condemnation by him, and can
any such refuse any service he calls them to ?
They who are washed in the Lamb’s blood,
will follow him whithersoever he goes (Rev.
xiv. 4); and, following him through, they
shall find their, journey’s end overpay all the
troubles and sufferings of the way. These are
they, said the elder who appeared in vision to
John, who came out of great tribulation : trib-
ulation and great tribulation, yet they came
out of it, 2nd gloriously too, arrayed in long
while robes " The scarlet strumpet (as fol-
lows in that book) died her garments red in
the blood of the saints; but this is their
happiness, that their garments are washed
white in the blood of the Lamb. Revelations
Wii. 14.
Once take away sin, and all suffering is
light. Now, that is done by this, His once
suffering for sin : those who are in him shall
hear no more of that as condemning them,
binding over to suffer that wrath which is due
to sin. Now, this puts an invincible strength
into the soul for enduring all other things, how
hard soever.
Put to death.] This is the utmost point,
and that which men are most startled at, to
die : and a violent death, put to death ; and
yet, he hath led in this way, who is the Cap-
tain of our salvation. In the flesh. Under
this second phrase, his human nature, and his
divine nature and power, are distinguished.
Put to death in the flesh, is a very fit expres-
sion, not only (as is usual) taking the flesh for
the whole manhood, but because death is most
properly spoken of that very person, or his
flesh. The whole man suffers death, a dis-
solution, or taking to pieces, and the soul suf-
fers a separation, or dislodging ; but death, or
the privation of live and sense, belongs par-
ticularly to the flesh or body. But the Spirit,
here opposed to the flesh or body, is certainly
of a higher nature and power than is the hu-
man soul, which can not of itself return or re-
inhabit and quicken the body.
Put to death..] His death was both volun-
tary and violent. That same power which
restored his life, could have kept it exempted
from death ; but the design was for death.
He therefore took our flesh, to put it off thus,
and to offer it up as a sacrifice, which, to be
acceptable, must of necessity be free and vol-
untary ; and, in that sense, he is said to have
died even by that same Spirit, which here, in
opposition to death, is said to quicken nim.
See Heb. ix. 14: Through the Eternal Spirit,
he offered himself without spot unto God.
They accounted it an ill-boding sign when
the sacrifices came constrained to the altar,
and drew back; and, on the contrary, were
gladdened with the hopes of success when
they came cheerfully forward; but never sac-
rifice came so willingly all the way, and from
the first step knew whither he was going.
Yet, because no other sacrifice would'serve,
he was most content to become one : Sacri-
fices and burnt-offerings thou didst not de-
sire: then said I, Lo, I come. Psalm xl. 6, 7.
He was not only a willing, sacrifice, as Isaac,
bound peaceably, and laid on the altar, but
his own sacrificer. The beasts, if they came
willingly, yet offered not themselves; but he
offered up himself; and thus, not only by a
willingness far above all those sacrifices of
bullocks and goats, but by the Eiernal Spirit,
he offered up himself. Therefore he says, in
this regard, I lay down my life for my sheep :
it is not pulled from me, but I lay it down.
And so it is often expressed by [dríðave] he
died ; and yet, this suits with it, [0ayaroğits]
wt to death. Yea, it was also expedient to
e thus, that his death should be violent, and
so, the more penal, to carry the more clear
expression of a punishment, and such a vio-
lent death as had both ignominy and a curse
tied to it, and this inflicted in a judicial way
264
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
though, as from the hands of men, most un-
justly); that he should stand, and be judged,
and condemned to death as a guilty person,
carrying in that person the persons of so many
who should otherwise have fallen under con-
demnation, as indeed guilty. He was num-
bered with transgressors (as the prophet hath
it), bearing the sins of many. Isa. liii. ult.
Thus, then, there was, in his death, exter-
nal violence joined with internal willingness.
But what is there to be found but complica-
tions of wonders in our Lord Jesus 2 Oh
high inconceivable mystery of godliness
God manifested in the flesh ſ Nothing in this
world so strange and sweet as that conjunc-
ture, God man, humanitas Dei ? What a
strong foundation of friendship and union be-
tween the person of man and God, that their
natures met in so close embraces in one Per-
son And, then, look on, and see so poor and
despised an outward condition through his
life, yet having hid under it the majesty of
God, all the brightness of the Father's glory !
And this is the top of all, that he was put to
death in the flesh ; the Lord of life dying, the
Lord of glory clothed with shame ! But it
quickly appeared what kind of person it was
that died, by this: He was put to death, in-
deed, in the flesh, but quickened by the Spirit 1
Quickened.] He was indeed too great a
morsel for the grave to digest. For all its vast
craving mouth and devouring appetite, crying,
Sheol, Give, give, yet was it forced to give
him up again, as the fish to give up the proph-
et Jonah, who, in that, was the figure of
Christ. The chains of that prison are strong,
but he was too strong a prisoner to be held by
them ; as our apostle hath in his sermon (Acts
ii. 24), that it was not possible that he should
be kept by them. They thought all was sure
when they had rolled to the stone, and sealed
it; that then the grave had indeed shut her
mouth upon him ; it appeared a done business
to them, and looked as if it were very com-
plete in his enemies' eyes, and very desperate
to his friends, his poor disciples and follow-
ers. Were they not near the point of giving
over, when they said, This is the third day,
&c., and We thought this had been he that
should have delivered Israel ? Luke xxiv. 21.
And yet, he was then with them, who was
indeed the deliverer and salvation of Israel.
That rolling of the stone to the grave, was as
if they had rolled it toward the east in the
night, to stop the rising of the sun the next
morning ; much further above all their watch-
es and their power was this Sun of Righte-
ousness in his rising again. That body which
was entombed was united to the spring of
life, the Divine Spirit of the Godhead that
quickened it.
Reflection 1. Thus, the church, which is
likewise his body, when it seems undone,
when it is brought to the lowest posture and
state, yet, by virtue of that mystical union
with Jesus Christ (as his natural body, by
personal union with his Deity), shall be pre-
served from destruction, and shall be deliv-
ered and raised in due time. Yea, as he was
nearest his exaltation in the lowest step of
his humiliation, so is it with his church :
when things are brought to the most hopeless
appearance, then shall light arise out of dark-
ness. Cum duplicantur lateres venit Moses.
Therefore, as we ought to seek a more
humble sense of Sion's distress, so we should
also be solicitous not to let go this hope, that
her mighty Lord will, in the end, be glorious
in her deliverance, and that all her suffer-
ings and low estate shall be as a dark ground
to set off the lustre of her restoration, when
the Lord shall visit her with salvation ; as in
the rising of Jesus Christ, his almighty pow-
er and Deity were more manifested than if
he had not died. And therefore we may say
confidently, with the psalmist to his Lord,
Psalm lxxi. 20: Thou who hast showed me
great and sore troubles, shalt quicken me
again, and shalt bring me up from the depths
of the earth: Thou shalt increase my great-
ness, and comfort me on every side. Yea,
the church comes more beautiful out of the
deepest distress: let it be overwhelmed with
waves, yet it sinks not, but rises up as only
washed. And in this confidence we ought
to rejoice, even in the midst of our sorrows;
and, though we live not to see them, yet,
even in beholding afar off, to be gladdened
with the great things the Lord will do for
his church in the latter times. He will cer-
tainly make bare his holy arm in the eyes of
the nations, and all the ends of the earth
shall see the salvation of our God. Isa. lii. 10.
His King whom he hath set on his holy hill,
shall grow in his conquests and glory, and all
that rise against him shall he break with a
rod of iron. Psalm ii. He was humbled
once, but his glory shall be for ever. As many
were astonished at him, his visage being mar-
ned more than any man, they shall be as
much astonished at his beauty and giory:
So shall he sprinkle many nations ; the kings
shall shut their mouths at him. Isa. lii. 14, 15.
According as here we find that remarkable
evidence of his divine power in rising from
the dead : put to death in the flesh, but quick-
ened by the Spirit.
Ref 2. Thus may a believing soul at the
lowest, when, to its own sense, it is given
over unto death, and swallowed up of it, as
it were in the ºlºſ hell, yet look up to
this divine power. He whose soul was not
left there, will not leave thine there. Yea,
when thou art most sunk in thy sad appre-
hensions, and far off to thy thinking, then is
he nearest to raise and comfort thee; as
sometimes it grows darkest immediately be
fore day. Rest on his power and goodness,
which never failed any who did so. It is he
(as David says) who lifts up the soul from the
gates of death., Psalm ix. 13.
Ref. 3. Would any of you be cured of that
common disease, the fear of death 3 Look
this way, and you shall find more than you
WER. 19–21.]
265
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
seek ; you shall be taught, not only to fear,
but to love it. Consider, 1. His death: he
died. By that, thou who receivest him as
thy life, mayest be sure of this, that thou art,
by that his death, freed from the second
death. Descendit huc vita nostra, et tulit
mortem nostram, et occidit eam de abundan-
tia vita suae : He who is our life, says Au-
gustine,descended hither, and bore our death,
killing it by the abounding of his life. And
that is the great point. Let that have the
name which was given to the other, the most
terrible of all terrible things; and, as the
second death is removed, this death which
thou art to pass through, is, I may say, beau-
tified and sweetened; the ugly visage of it
becomes amiable, when ye look on it in
Christ, and in his death; that puts such a
pleasing comeliness upon it, that whereas
others fly from it with affright, the believer
can not choose but embrace it. He longs
to lie down in that bed of rest, since his
Lord lay in it, and hath warmed that cold
bed and purified it with his fragrant body.
2. But especially be looking forward to his
return thence, quickened by the Spirit ; this
being to those who are in him the certain
pledge, yea, the effectual cause, of that bles-
sed resurrection which is in their hopes.
There is that union betwixt them, that they
shall rise by the communication and virtue
of his rising; not simply by his power, for
so the wicked to their grief shall be raised,
but they by his life, as theirs. Therefore it
is so often reiterated, John vi., where he
speaks of himself as the living and life-giv-
ing bread to believers, I will raise them up
at the last day. This comfort we have even
for the house of clay we lay down ; and as
for our more considerable part, our immortal
souls, this his death and rising hath provi-
ded for them, at their dislodging, an entrance
into that glory where he is. Now, if these
things were lively apprehended and laid
hoſd on, Christ made ours, and the first res.
urrection manifest in us, were we quickened
by his Spirit to newness of life, certainly
there would not be a more welcome and re-
freshing thought, nor a sweeter discourse to
us, than that of death. And no matter for
the kind of it. Were it a violent death, so
was his. Were it what we account most
judgment-like among diseases, the plague;
was not his death very painful ? And was
it not an accursed death 2 And by that curse
endured by him in his, is not the curse taken
away to the believer ? Oh how welcome
will that day be, that day of deliverance
To be out of this woful prison, I regard not
at what door I go out, being at once freed
from so many deaths, and let in to enjoy him
who is my life.
VER. 19. By which also he went and preached unto
the spirits in prison ;
Ver. 20. Which sometime were disobedient, when
once the long-suffering of God waited in the days
of Noah while the ark was a preparing, wherein
few, that is, eight souls, were saved by water.
VER. 21. The like figure whereunto, even baptism,
doth also now save us (not the putting away of the .
filth of the flesh, but the answer of a good con-
science toward God), by the resurrection of Jesus
Christ.
THERE is nothing that so much concerns a
Christian to know, as the excellency of Je-
sus Christ, his person and works; so that it
is always pertinent to insist much on that
subject. The apostle, having spoken of this
Spirit or divine nature, and the power of it,
as raising him from the dead, takes occasion
to speak of another work of that Spirit, to
wit, the emission and publishing of his di-
vine doctrine; and that, not as a new thing
following his death and rising, but as the
same in substance with that which was, by
the same Spirit, promulgated long before,
even to the first inhabitants of the world.
Quickened by the Spirit, that is, in our days,
says the apostle; but then, long before that,
by the same Spirit, he went and preached to
the spirits in prison.
This place is somewhat obscure in itself,
but as it usually happens, made more so by
the various fancies and contests of interpre-
ters, aiming or pretending to clear it. These I
like never to make a noise of. They who
dream of the descent of Christ’s soul into hell,
think this place sounds somewhat that way;
but, being examined, it proves no way suita-
ble, nor can, by the strongest wrestling, be
drawn to fit their purpose. For, 1. That it
was to preach, he went thither, they are not
willing to avow ; though the end they as-
sign is as groundless and imaginary as this
is. 2. They would have his business to be
with the spirits of the faithful deceased be-
fore his coming ; but here we see it is with
the disobedient. And, 3. His spirit here is
the same with the sense of the foregoing
words, which mean not his soul, but his eter-
nal Deity. 4. Nor is it the spirits that were
in prison, as they read it, but the spirits in
prison, which, by the opposition of their for-
mer condition, sometime, or formerly disobe-
dient, doth clearly speak their present condi-
tion, as the just consequence and fruit of
their disobedieſſee.
Other misinterpretations I mention not,
taking it as agreeable to the whole strain of
the apostle's words,” that Jesus Christ did,
* Thus I then thought, but do now apprehend an-
other sense, as probable, if not more, even that so
much rejected by most interpreters: the mission of the
Spirit, and preaching of the gospel by it, after his res-
urrection, preaching to sinners, and converting them,
according to the prophecy which he first fulfilled in
person, and, after, more amply, in his apostles. That
prophecy I mean, Isa. lx. 1. The Spirit came upon
him, and it was sent from him on his apostles, to
preach to spirits in prison; to preach liberty to those
captives, captive spirits, and therefore called spirits in
prison, to illustrate the thing the more, by opposition
to that spirit of Christ, the spirit of liberty, setting
them free. And this is to show the greater efficacy
of Christ's preaching, than of Noah's ; though he was
a signal preacher of righteousness, yet only himself
and his family, eight persons, were saved by him;
but multitudes of all nations by the spirit and preach-
ing of Christ in the gospel; and that by the seal of
34
266
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
before his appearing in the flesh, speak by
his spirit in his servants to those of the fore-
going ages, yea, the most ancient of them,
declaring to them the way of life, though re-
jected by the unbelief of the most part. This
is interjected in the mentioning of Christ's
sufferings and exaltation after them. And,
after all, the apostle returns to that again,
and to the exhortation which he strengthens
by it: but so as that this discourse taken in,
is pertinently adapted to the present subject.
The apostle's aim in it we may conceive to
be this (his main scope being to encourage
his brethren in the faith of Christ, and the
way of holiness, against all opposition and
hardship), so to instruct his brethrenin Christ's
perpetual influence into his church in all ages,
even before his incarnation, as that they might,
at the same time, see the great unbelief of
the world, yea, their opposing of Divine
truth, and the small number of those who re-
ceive it, and so not be discouraged by the
fewness of their number, and the hatred of
the world, finding that Salvation in Jesus
Christ, dead and risen again, which the rest
miss of by their own wilful refusal. And
this very point he insists on clearly in the
following chapter, Ver., 3, 4. And the very
ways of ungodliness there specified, which
believers renounce, were those that the world
was guilty of in those days, and in which
they were surprised by the flood: They ate
and drank till the flood came upon them.
In the words of these three verses, we have
three things: First, An assertion concerning
the preaching of Christ, and the persons he
preached to. Secondly, The designation and
description of the time or age wherein that
was, and the particular way of God's dealing
with them. Thirdly, The adapting or apply-
ing of the example to Christians.—First, the
assertion concerning the preaching of Christ,
and the persons he preached to, in these
words, which I take together, By the which
spirit he went and preached to the spirits in
prison, which sometime were disobedient.
In these words we have a preacher and his
hearers. With regard to the preacher, we
shall find here, 1st. His ability. 2dly. His
activity in the use of it.
1st. His ability is altogether singular and
matchless, the very spring of all abilities, the
Spirit of wisdom himself, being the coeternal
Son of God. That Spirit he preached by,
was the same as that by which he raised
himself from the dead; and without this
Spirit there is no preaching. Now he was,
as our apostle calls him, a preacher of righ-
teousness, but it was by the power of this
Spirit; for in him did this Spirit preach. The
Son is the wisdom of the Father, his name is
The Word ; not only for that by him all
things were created, as John hath it, John i.
baptism, the resurrection of Christ being represented
in the return from the water, and our dying with him,
by immersion; and that figure of baptism is like their
ark.
4, the Son being that power by which, as by
the word of his mouth, all things were made:
but he is The Word, likewise, as revealing
the Father, declaring to us the counsel and
will of God: therefore he is, by the same
evangelist, in the same place, called that
Light which illuminates the world, John i. 9,
without which, man, called the lesser world,
the intellectual world, were as the greater
world without the sun. And all who bring
aright the doctrine of saving wisdom, derive
it necessarily from him; all preachers draw
from this sovereign preacher, as the fountain
of Divine light. As all the planets receive
their light from the sun, and by that diffusing
itself among them, it is not diminished in the
sun, but only communicated to them, re-
maining still full and entire in it as its
source; thus doth the Spirit flow from Christ,
in a particular degree, unto those he sends
forth in his name, and is in them that he
preaches by the power and light of his eter-
mal spirit.
Hither, then, must all those come who
would be rightly supplied and enabled for
that work. It is impossible to speak duly of
him in any measure, but by his Spirit ; there
must be particular access, and a receiving of
instructions from him, and a transfusion of
his Spirit into ours. Oh were it thus with
us, how sweet were it to speak of him ' To
be much in prayer, much in dependance on
him, and drawing from him, would do much
more in this, than reading and studying,
seeking after arts, and tongues, and common
knowledge. These, indeed, are not to be
despised nor neglected. Utilis lectio, utilis
eruditio, sed magis unctio necessaria, quippe
gua sola docet de omnibus, says Bernard :
Reading is good, and learning good, but
above all, anointing is necessary, that anoint-
ing that teacheth all ºf: And you who
are for your own interest, be earnest with this
Lord, this Fountain of Spirit, to let forth
more of it upon his messengers in these times.
You would receive back the fruit of it, were
ye busy this way; you would find more life
and refreshing sweetness in the word of life,
how weak and worthless soever they were
who brought it ; it should descend as sweet
showers upon the valleys, and make them
fruitful.
2d. We have the activity of Christ as a
preacher. By this spirit, it is said here, He
reached. Not only did he so in the days of
is abode on earth, but in all times, both be-
fore and after. He never left his church al-
together destitute of saving light, which he
dispensed himself, and conveyed by the hands
of his servants; therefore it is said, He preach-
ed, that this may be no excuse for times after
he is ascended into heaven, no, nor for times
before he descended to the earth in human
flesh. Though he preached not then, nor
does now in his flesh, yet by his Spirit he
then preached, and still doth ; so that accord-
ing to what was chief in him, he was still
WER. 19–21.]
267
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
present with his church, and preaching in it,
and is so to the end of the world, this his in-
finite, Spirit being, everywhere. . Yet, it is
said here, by which he went and preached,
signifying the remarkable clearness of his ad-
ministration that way. As when he appears
eminently in any work of his own, or in ta-
king notice of our works, God is said to come
down (as in reference to those cities of Babel
and Sodom, Let us go down, and I will go
down and see, Genesis xi. 5, 7; xviii. 21 ; so
Exod. iii. 8, I am come down to deliver Israel);
thus here, so clearly did he admonish them
by Noah, coming, as it were, himself, on pur-
pose to declare his mind to them. And this
word, I conceive, is the rather used to show
what equality there is in this. He came, in-
deed, visibly, and dwelt among men, when
he became flesh ; yet, before that, he visited
them by his Spirit; he went by that, and
preached. And so, in after-times, himself
being ascended, and not having come visibly
in his flesh to all, but to the Jews only, yet,
in the preaching of the apostles to the Gen-
tiles, as the great apostle says of him in that
expression, Eph. ii. 17, He came and preached
to you which were afar off. And this he con-
tinues to do in the ministry of his word; and
therefore, says he, He that despiseth you, de-
spiseth me. Luke x. 16.
Were this considered, it could not but pro-
cure far more respect to the word, and more
acceptance of it. Would you think that, in
his word, Christ speaks by his eternal Spirit,
yea, that he comes and preaches, addresses
himself particularly to you in it: could you
slight him thus, and turn him off with daily
refusals, or delays at least 2 Think, it is too
long you have so unworthily used so great a
Lord, who brings unto you so great salvation ;
who came once in so wonderful a way to work
that salvation for us in his flesh, and is still
coming to offer it unto us by his Spirit; who
does himself preach to us, telling us what he
undertook on our behalf, and how he hath
performed all, and that now nothing rests but
that we receive him, and believe on him, and
all is ours. But alas! from the most the re-
turn is, what we have here—disobedience.
Which sometime were disobedient.] There
are two things in these hearers, by which
they are characterized : their present condi-
tion in the time the apostle was speaking of
them, spirits in prison, and their former dis-
position, when the Spirit of Christ was preach-
ing to them, sometime disobedient. This lat-
ter went first in time, and was the cause of
the other ; therefore, of it first.
1. Sometime disobedient.] If you look to
their visible subordinate preacher, you find he
was a holy man, and an able and diligent
preacher of righteousness, both in his doc-
trine, and in the track of his life, which is
the most powerful preaching ; on both which
accounts it seems strange that he prevailed
so little. But it appears much more so, if we
look higher, even to this height at which the
apostle points, that almighty Spirit of Christ
who preached to them. And yet, they were
disobedient! The word is [re:0íguoj, they
were not persuaded ; it signifies both unbelief
and disobedience, and that very fitly, unbelief
being in itself the grand disobedience: it is
the mind's not yielding to Divine truth, and
so the spring of all disobedience in affection
and action. And this root of bitterness, this
unbelief, is deeply fastened in our natural
hearts; and without a change in them, a ta-
king them to pieces, they can not be good.
It is as a tree firmly rooted, which can not be
plucked up without loosening the ground
round about it. And this accursed root brings
forth fruit unto death, because the word is not
believed, neither the threats of the law, nor
the promises of the gospel; therefore men
cleave unto their sins, and speak peace unto
themselves while they are under the curse.
It may seem very strange that the gospel is
so fruitless among us; yea, that neither word
nor rod, both preaching aloud to us the doc-
trine of humiliation and repentance, persuades
any man to return, or so much as to turn in-
ward, and question himself, to say, “What
have I done?” But thus it will be, till the
Spirit be poured from on high, to open and
soften hearts. This is to be desired, as much
wanting in the ministry of the word ; but
were it there, that would not serve, unless it
were by a concurrent work within the heart
meeting the word, and making the impres-
sions of it there : for here we find the Spirit
went and preached; and yet, the spirits of the
hearers still remained unbelieving and diso-
bedient. It is therefore a combined work of
this Spirit in the preacher and the hearers,
that makes it successful, otherwise it is but
shouting in a dead man’s ear ; there must be
something within, as one said in a like case.
2. To the spirits in prison.] That is now
their posture; and because he speaks of them
as in that posture, he calls them spirits; for
it is their spirits that are in that prison. He
likewise calls them spirits to whom the Spirit
of Christ preached, because it is indeed that
which the preaching of the word aims at ; it
hath to do with the spirits of men. It is not
content to be at their ear with a sound, but
works on their minds and spirits some way,
either to believe and receive, or to be hard-
ened and sealed up to judgment by it, which
is for rebels. If disobedience follow on the
preaching of that word, the prison follows on
that disobedience; and that word, by which
they would not be bound to obedience, binds
them over to that prison, whence they shall
never escape, nor be released for ever.
Take notice of it, and know that you are
warned, you who will not receive salvation,
offering, pressing itself upon you. You are
every day in that way of disobedience, hast-
ening to this perpetual imprisonment.
Consider, you now sit and hear this word ;
so did those who are here spoken of: they had
their time on earth, and much patience was
268
|CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
used toward them. And though you are not
to be swept away by a flood of waters, yet
you are daily carried on by the flood of time
and mortality. Psalm xc. 5. And how soon
you shall be on the other side, and sent into
eternity, you know not. I beseech you, be
yet wise; hearken to the offers yet made you;
for in his name I yet Once again make a ten-
der of Jesus Christ, and salvation in him, to
all that will let go their sins, to lay hold on
him. Oh do not destroy yourselves. You
are in prison ; he proclaims unto you liberty.
Christ is still following us himself with trea-
ties. Clamans dictis, factis, morte, vita, de-
scensu, ascensu, clamans ut redeamus ad eum :
(Augustine): Crying aloud by his words, by his
deeds, by his death, by his life, by his coming
down from heaven, by his ascension into it,
crying to us to return to him. Christ pro-
claims your liberty, and will you not accept
of it ! Think, though you are pleased with
your present thraldom and prison, it reserves
you (if you come not forth) to this other prison,
that shall not please you : these chains of
spiritual darkness in which you are, unless
you be freed, will deliver you up to the chains
of everlasting darkness, wherein these hope-
less prisoners are kept to the judgment of the
great day. But if you ºiſ receive Jesus
Christ presently upon that, life, and liberty,
and blessedness, are made yours. If the Son
make you free, you shall be free indeed. John
viii. 35.
When once the long-suffering of God wait-
ed in the days of Noah..]. There are two main
continuing wonders in the world, the bounty
of God, and the disloyalty of man ; and the
succession of times is nothing but new edi-
tions of these two. One grand example is
here set before us, an oecumenical example,
as large as the whole world; on the part of
God much patience, and yet, on man’s part,
invincible disobedience. Here are two things
in the instance. 1st, The Lord's general deal-
ing with the world of the ungodly at that time.
2dly, His peculiar way with his own chosen,
Noah and his family: he waited patiently for
all the rest, but he effectually saved them.
Observe, first, The time designated thus,
In the days of Noah. There were many
great and powerful persons in those days,
who overtopped (no doubt), in outward re-
Spects; as, in their stature, the proud giants.
And they begot children, mighty men of old,
men of renown, as the text hath it, Gen. vi. 3;
and yet, as themselves perished in the flood,
so their names are drowned. They had their
big thoughts, certainly, that their houses and
their names should continue, as the psalmist
speaks (Psalm xlix. 11), and yet they are sunk
in perpetual oblivion; while Noah's name,
who walked in humble obedience, you see in
these most precious records of God's own book,
still looks fresh, and smells sweet, and hath
this honor, that the very age of the world is
marked with this name, to be known by it:
In the days of Noah; That when profane
ambitious persons do idolatrously seek after,
they are often remarkably disappointed of:
They would have their names memorable and
famous, yet they rot': they are either buried
with them, or remembered with disgrace, rot-
ting above ground, as carcasses uninterred,
and so are the more noisome ; it being as little
credit to them to be mentioned, as for Pilate
that his name is in the confession of faith.
But the name and remembrance of the righ-
teous is still sweet and delightful; as the
name of Abraham the father of the faithful,
and those of Isaac and Jacob : their names
are embalmed indeed, so that they can not rot,
embalmed with God’s own name [Eternal],
THAT name being wrapped about theirs, the
God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
Thus is Noah here mentioned as preferred
of God ; and so, in the second epistle, as a
preacher of righteousness, and Hebrews xi.,
among those worthies whose honor is, that
they believed. This is only a name, a small
thing, not to be mentioned in comparison of
their other privileges, and especially of that
venerable life and glory which they are heirs
to ; and indeed it is a thing they regard very
little ; yet, this we see, that even this advan-
tage follows them, and flies from the vain and
ungodly who haunt and pursue it.
The Lord's dealing with the wicked in
those times, before he swept them away by
the deluge, is represented in these two par-
ticulars: 1. Long-suffering, and withal, 2.
Clear warming.
1. Long-suffering—long forbearing to be
angry, as the Hebrew word is in the procla-
mation of the Divine name, Exodus xxxiv. 6,
which supposes a great provocation, and the
continuance of it, and yet patience continuing.
And in this appears the goodness of God : con-
sidering how hateful sin is to him, and how
powerful he is to punish it, how easy were it,
if it pleased him, in one moment to cut off all
the ungodly, high and low, throughout the
whole world ! Yet he bears, and forbears to
punish Oh what a world of sin is every
day committed in nations, in cities, and vil-
lages, yea, in families, which he doth not
strike with present judgments, and not only
forbears to punish, but multiples his common
mercies on them, sun and rain and fruitful
seasons. Acts xiv. 17.
Yea, there is so much of this, that it falls
under a gross misconstruction ; yet, he bears
that too. Because sentence against an evil
work is not speedily eaecuted, therefore the
heart of the sons of men is fully set in them
to do evil. Eccles. viii. 11. Because there is
not so much as a word of it for the time (so
the word is), this swells and fills the heart of
man, and makes it big to do evil. And not
only is the Lord's long-suffering mistaken by
the ungodly, but even by his own, who should
understand him better, and know the true
sense of his ways, yet sometimes they are
misled in this point: beholding his forbear-
ance of punishing the workers of iniquity, in-
WER. 19–21.]
269
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
stead of magnifying his patience, they fall
very near into questioning his justice and
providence. See Psalm xiii., Jer. xii., Job
xx., &c. Our narrow, hasty spirits, left to
their own measures, take not in those larger
views that would satisfy us in respect to the
ways of God, and forget the immense large-
ness of his wise designs, his deep reach from
one age to another, yea, from eternity to eter-
nity. We consider not, 1. How easily he can
right himself, in point of justice, when he
will ; that none can make escape from him,
how loose soever their guard seem, and how
great liberty soever appears in their present
condition. Nemo decoquit huic creditori. 2.
That as he can most easily, so he will most
seasonably, be known in executing judgment;
and that his justice shall shine the brighter,
by all that patience he hath used, by the sun
of prosperity. , 3. We think not how little
that time is to him, which seems long to us,
to whom a thousand years are as one day.
It seemed a long time of the church's distress
and their enemies' triumph, in those seventy
years of the Babylonish captivity; and yet, in
God’s language, it is spoken of as a moment,
a small moment, Isa. liv. 7. However, in the
issue, the Lord always clears himself. He is
indeed long-suffering and patient, but the im-
penitent abusers of his patience pay interest
for all the time of that forbearance, in the
weight of judgment when it comes upon
them. But thus, we see, the Lord deals.
Thus he dealt with the world in the begin-
ning, when all flesh had corrupted their way;
get, saith he, their days shall be one hundred
and twenty years. Gen. vi. 3.
Let us learn to curb and cool our brisk
humors toward even stubborn sinners. Be
grieved at their sin, for that is your duty ; but
think it not strange, nor fret at it, that they
continue to abuse the long-suffering of God,
and yet, that he continues ever abused by suf.
fering them. Zeal is good, but as it springs
from love, if it be right, so it is requited by
love, and carries the impressions of it: of love
to God, and so, a complacency in his way,
liking it because it is his ; and of love to men,
so as to be pleased with that waiting for
them, in the possibility, at least, of their
being reclaimed; knowing that, however, if
they return-not, yet the Lord will not lose
his own at their hands. Wilt thou, said those
two fiery disciples, that we call for fire, as
Elias 2 Oh but the spirit of the dove rested
on him who told them, They knew not what
spirit they were of Luke ix. 55, q. d. : You
speak of Elias, and you think you are of his
spirit in this motion, but you mistake your-
selves ; this comes from another spirit than
you imagine. Instead of looking for such
sudden justice without you, look inward, and
see whence that is : examine and correct
that within you.
When you are tempted to take ill that
goodness and patience of God to sinners, con-
sider, 1. Can this be right, to differ from his
mind in anything? Is it not our only wisdom
and ever safe rule, to think as he thinks, and
will as he wills 2 And I pray you, does he
not hate sin more than you do? Is not his
interest in punishing it deeper than yours ?
And if you be zealous for his interest, as you
pretend, then be so with him, and in his way;
for starting from that, surely you are wrong.
Consider, 2. Did he not wait for thee ? What
had become of thee, if long-suffering had sub-
served his purpose of further mercy, of free
pardon to thee ? And why wilt thou not
always allow that to which thou art so much
obliged ? Wouldst thou have the bridge cut,
because thou art so over ? Surely thou wilt
not own so gross a thought. Therefore, es-
teem thy God still the more, as thou seest the
more of his long-suffering to sinners ; and
learn for him, and with him, to bear and wait.
2. But this was not a dumb forbearance,
such as may serve for a surprise, but contin-
ual teaching and warning were joined with it,
as remarked before. We see, they wanted
not preaching of the choicest kind. He, the
Son of God, by his Eternal Spirit, went and
preached to them ; it was his truth in Noah's
mouth. And with that, we have a continued
real sermon, expressed in this verse, While the
ark was preparing : that spoke God's mind,
and every knock (as the usual observation is)
of the hammers and tools used in building,
preached to them, threatening aloud designed
judgment, and exhorting to prevent it. And
therefore that word is added, Šećxero, that the
long-suffering of God waited, or expected ;
expected a believing of his word, and a re-
turning from their wickedness. But we see
no such thing followed; they took their own
course still, and therefore the Lord took his.
They had polluted the earth with their wicked-
ness; now the Lord would have the cleansing
by repentance ; that being denied, it must be
another way, by a flood. And because they
and their sins remained one, they would not
part with them, therefore was one work made
of both ; they and their sins, as inseparable,
must be cleansed away together.
Thus impenitency under much long-suffer-
ing, makes judgment full and complete. I
appeal to you, hath not the Lord used much
forbearance toward us? Hath he not patient-
ly spared us, and clearly warned us, and wait-
ed long for the fruit of all ? Hath anything
been wanting 2 Have not temporal mercies
been multiplied on us 2 Have not the spirit-
ual riches of the gospel been opened up to us?
And each of you, for yourselves, consider
how it is with you after so much long-suffer-
ing of God, which none of you can deny he
hath used toward }. and so many gracious
invitations, with that patience. Have they
gained your hearts, or do you still remain
servants to sin, still strangers to him, and
formal worshippers? I beseech you, think
on it, what will be the issue of that course.
Is it a light matter to you, to die in your sins,
and to have the wrath of God abiding on you ?
270
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
to have refused Christ so often, and that after
you have been so often requested to receive
salvation ? After the Lord hath followed
you with entreaties, hath called to you so
often, Why will ye die? yet, wilfully to perish,
and withal to have all these entreaties come
in and accuse you, and make your burden
heavier ? Would you willingly die in this
estate 2 If not, then think that yet he is
waiting, if at length you will return. This
one day more of his waiting you have, and
of his speaking to you; and some who were
here with you the last day, are taken away
since. Oh, that we were wise, and would con-
sider our latter end ? Though there were
neither sword nor pestilence near you, you
must die, and, for anything you know, quickly.
Why wear you out the day of grace and
those precious seasons still, as uncertain of
Christ, yea, as undiligent after him, as you
were long ago 2 As you love your souls, be
more serious in their business. This was the
undoing of the sinners we are speaking of;
they were all for present things. They ate
and drank, they married, in a continued course,
without ceasing, and without minding their
after-estate. , Luke xvii. 27. They were
drowned in these things, and that drowned
them in a flood. Noah did also eat and drink,
but his main work was, during that time, the
É. of the ark. The necessities of this
ife the children of God are tied to, and forced
to bestow some time and pains on them ; but
the thing that takes up their hearts, that
which the bent of their souls is set on, is their
interest in Jesus Christ: and all your wise
designs are but a pleasing madness, till this
be chief with you. Others have had as much
of God's patience, and as fair opportunity, as
you, whose souls and Christ had never met,
and now know that they never shall. They
had their time of worldly projects and enjoy-
ment, as you now have, and followed them,
as if they had been immortally to abide with
them ; but they are passed away as a shadow,
and we are posting after them, and within
awhile shall lie down in the dust. Oh how
happy they whose hearts are not here, tra-
ding with vanity and gathering vexation, but
whose thoughts are on that blessed life above
trouble! Certainly, they who pass for fools
in the world, are the only children of wisdom,
they who have renounced their lusts and
their own wills, have yielded up themselves
to Jesus, taking him for their King, and have
their minds resting on him as their salvation.
While the ark was a preparing.] Observe,
the delay of the Lord's determined judgment
on the ungodly, was indeed long-suffering
toward them, but here was more in it to
Noah and his family; the providing for their
preservation, and, till that was completed for
them, the rest were spared. Thus, the very
forbearance which, the ungodly do enjoy, is
usually involved with the interest of the god-
ly ; something of that usually goes into it;
and so it is in a great part for their sakes,
that the rest are both spared and furnished
with common mercies. The saints are usu-
ally the scorn and contempt of others, yet are
they, by that love the Lord carries toward
them, the very arches and pillars of states,
and kingdoms, and families, where they are,
yea, of the world (Semen sanctum statumen
terrae), the frame whereof is continued mainly
in regard to them. Isa. vi. 13. But they
who are ungrateful to the great Maker and
Upholder of it, and regardless of him, what
wonder if they take no notice of the advan-
tage they receive by the concernment of his
children in the world 2 Observe here,
I. The work. II. The end of it. I. In the
work, the preparing of the ark, observe, 1st,
God’s appointment; 2dly, Noah's obedience.
1st. It was God's appointment. His power
was not tied to this, yet his wisdom chose it.
He who steered the course of this ark safely
all that time, could have preserved those he
designed it for without it; but thus it pleases
the Lord, usually, to mix his most wonderful
deliverances with some selected means; ex-
ercising, in that way, our obedience in their
use, yet so as that the singular power of his
hand in them, whereon faith rests, doth
clearly appear, doing by them what, in a
more natural way, they could not possibly
effect.
2dly. For the obedience of Noah, if we
should insist on the difficulties, both in this
work and in the way of their preservation, by
it, it would look the clearer, and be found
very remarkable. Considering the length of
the work, the great pains in providing mate-
rials, especially considering the opposition
that probably he met with in it from the pro-
fane about him, the mightier of them, or, at
least, the hatred and continual scoffs of all
sorts, it required principles of an invincible
resolution to go through with it. What
(would they say) means this old dotard to
do? Whither this monstrous voyage 2 And
inasmuch as it spoke, as no doubt he told
them, their ruin and his safety, this would
incense them so much the more. You look
far before you, and what shall we all per-
ish, and you alone escape 2 But through all,
the sovereign command and gracious prom-
ise of his God carried him, regarding their
scoffs and threats as little in, making the
ark, as he did afterward the noise of the
waters about it, when he was sitting safe
within it. This his obedience, having in-
deed so boisterous winds to encounter, had
need of a well-fastened root, that it might
stand and hold out against them all, and so
it had. The apostle St. Paul tells us what
the root of it was: By faith being warned of
God, he prepared an ark. , Heb. xi. 7. And
there is no living and lasting obedience but
what springs from that root. He believed
what the Lord spake of his determined judg-
ment on the ungodly world, and from the be-
lief of that arose that holy fear which is ex-
pressly mentioned, Heb. xi. 7, as exciting
WER. 19–21.]
271
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
him to this work; and he believed the word
of promise, which the Lord spake concerning
his preservation by the ark: and the belief
of these two carried him strongly on to the
work, and through it, against all counter-
blasts and opposition ; overcame both his
own doubtings and the moekings of the
wicked, while he still looked to him who
was the master and contriver of the work.
Till we attain such a fixed view of our
God, and such firm persuasion, of his truth,
and power, and goodness, it will never be
right with us; there will be nothing but wa-
vering and unsettledness in our spirits and in
our ways. Every little discouragement from
within or from without, that meets us, will
be likely to turn us over. We shall not walk
in an even course, but still be reeling and
staggering, till faith be set wholly upon its
own basis, the proper foundation of it: not
set between two upon one strong prop, and
another that is rotten, partly on God, and
partly on creature helps and encouragements,
or our own strength. Our only safe and
happy way is, in humble obedience, in his
own strength to follow his appointments,
without standing and questioning the matter,
and to resign the conduct of all to his wis-
dom and love ; to put the rudder of our life
into his hand, to steer the course of it as
seemeth him good, resting quietly on his
word of promise for our safety. Lord, whither
thou wilt, and which way thou wilt, be thou
my guide, and it sufficeth.
This absolute following of God, and trust-
ing him with all, is marked as the true char-
acter of faith in Abraham ; his going after
God away from his country, not knowing, nor
asking whither he went, secure in his guide.
And so, in that other greater point of offering
his Son, he silenced all disputes about it, by
that mighty conclusion of faith, accounting
that he was able to raise him from the dead.
Heb. xi. 8, 19. These it is said, v. 7, By faith,
Noah prepared the ark. He did not argue
and question, How shall this be done, and if
it were, how shall I get all the kinds of
beasts gathered together to put into it, and
how shall it be ended, when we are shut in 2
No, but he believed firmly that it should be
finished by him, and he be saved by it; and
he was not disappointed.
II. The end of this work was the saving
of Noah and his family from the general deſ:
uge, wherein all the rest perished.
Here it will be fit to consider the point of
the preservation of the godly in ordinary and
oommon calamities, briefly in these positions.
1. It is certain that the children of God, as
they are not exempted from the common,
universal calamities and evils of this life,
which befall the rest of men, so not from any
particular kind of them. As it is appointed
for them, with all others, once to die, so we
find them not privileged from any kind of
disease, or other way of death ; not from fall-
ing by sword, or by pestilence, ºr in the phrensy
of a fever, or any kind of sudden death: yea,
when these, or such like, are on a land by
way of public judgment, the godly are not al-
together exempted from them, but may fall
in them with others; as we find Moses dying
in the wilderness with those he brought out
of Egypt. Now though it was for a particu-
lar failing in the wilderness, yet it evinces,
that there is in this no infringement upon
their privileges, nothing contrary to the love
of God toward them, and his covenant with
them.
2. The promises made to the godly of pres-
ervation, from common judgments, have their
truth, and are made good in many of them
who are so preserved, though they do not
hold absolutely and universally. For they
are ever to be understood in subordination to
their highest good; but when they are pre-
served, they ought to take it as a gracious ac-
complishment even of these promises to them,
which the wicked, many of whom do like-
wise escape, have no right to, but are pre-
served for after judgment.
3. It is certain that the curse and sting is
taken out of all those evils incident to the
godly with others, in life and death, which
makes the main difference, though to the eye
of the world invisible. And it may be ob-
served, that in those common judgments of
sword, or pestilence, or other epidemic dis-
eases, a great part of those who are cut
off are of the wickedest, though the Lord
may send of those arrows to some few of his
own, to call them home.
The full and clear distinction of the godly
and the wicked, being reserved for their after-
estate in eternity, it needs not seem strange,
that in many things it appears not here. One
thing above all others most grievous to the
child of God, may take away the wonder of
other things they suffer in common, that is,
the remainders of sin in them while they are
in the flesh : though there is a spirit in them
above it, and contrary to it, which makes the
difference, yet, sometimes the too much like-
ness, especially in the prevailings of corrup-
tion, doth confuse the matter, not only to oth-
ers' eyes, but to their own.
4. Though the great distinction and sever-
ing be reserved to that great and solemn day,
which shall clear all, yet the Lord is pleased,
in part, more remarkably at sometimes to
distinguish his own from the ungodly, in the
execution of temporal judgments, and to give
these as preludes of that final and full judg-
ment. And this instance of Noah was one
of the most eminent in that kind, being the
most general judgment that ever befell the
world, or that shall befall it till the last, and
so the liveliest figure of it; this was by wa-
ter, as the second shall be by fire. It was
most congruous that it should resemble it
in this, as the chief point; the saving of
righteous Noah and his family from it, pre-
figuring the eternal salvation of believers, as
our apostle teacheth.
272
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
Wherein few, that is, eight persons, were
saved by water.] This great point of the
fewness of those who are saved in the other
greater salvation, as in this I shall not now
prosecute : only,
1. If so few, them, the inquiry into our-
selves, whether we be of these few, should
be more diligent, and followed more home,
than it is as yet with the most of us. We
are wary in our trifles, and only in this ea-
sily deceived, yea, our own deceivers in this
great point. Is not this folly far beyond
what you usually say of some, Penny wise
and pound foolish ; to be wise for a moment,
and fools for eternity ?
2. You who are indeed seeking the way
of life, be not discouraged by your fewness.
It hath always been so. You see here, how
few of the whole world were saved. And
is it not better to be of the few in the ark,
than of the multitude in the waters ? Let
them fret as ordinarily they do, to see so few
more diligent for heaven; as no doubt they
did in the case of Noah. And this is what
galls them, that any should have higher names
and surer hopes this way: What! are none
but such as you going to heaven 2 Think
}. all of us damned ? What can we say,
ut that there is a flood of wrath awaiting
many, and certainly, all that are out of the
ark shall perish in it.
3. This is that main truth, that I would
leave with you: look on Jesus Christ as the
ark, of whom this was a figure, and believe it,
out of him there is nothing but certain de-
struction, a deluge of wrath, all the world
over, on those who are out of Christ. Oh
it is our life, our only safety, to be in him.
But these things are not believed. Men think
they believe them, and do not. Were it be-
lieved, that we are under the sentence of
eternal death in our natural state, and that
there is no escape but by removing out of
ourselves unto Christ, Oh, what thronging
would there be to him ' Whereas, now, he
invites, and calls, and how few are persuaded
to come to him 1 Noah believed the Lord's
word of judgment against the world, believed
his promise made to him, and prepared an
ark. Is it not a high sign of unbelief, that,
there being an ark of everlasting salvation
ready prepared to our hand, we will not so
much as come to it? Will you be per-
suaded certainly, that the ark-door stands
open 2 His offers are free ; do but come and
try if he will turn you away. No, he will
not : Him that comes to me, I will in no wise
cast out. John vi. 37. And as there is such
acceptance and sure preservation in him,
there is as sure perishing without him, trust
on what you will. Be you of a giant's stat-
ure (as many of them were), to help you to
climb up (as they would surely do when the
flood came on) to the highest mountains and
tallest trees, yet, it shall overtake you. Make
your best of your worldly advantages, or
good parts, or civil righteousness, all shall
prove poor shifts from the flood of wrath,
which rises above all these, and drowns
them. Only the ark of our salvation is safe.
Think how gladly they would have been
within the ark, when they found death with-
out it ; and now it was too late . How would
many who now despise Christ, wish to honor
him one day ! Men, so long as they thought
to be safe on the earth, would never betake
them to the ark, would think it a prison; and
could men find salvation anywhere else, they
would never come to Christ for it: this is,
because they know him not. But yet, be it
necessity, let that drive thee in ; and then
being in him, thou shalt find reason to love
him for himself, besides the salvation thou
hast in him.
You who have fled into him for refuge,
wrong him not so far as to question your
safety. What though the floods of thy for-
mer guiltiness rise high, thine Ark shall still
be above them : and the higher they rise, the
higher he shall rise, shall have the more
glory in freely justifying and saving thee.
Though thou find the remaining power of sin
still within thee, yet it shall not sink thine
ark. There was in this ark sin, yet they
were saved from the flood. If thou dost be-
lieve, that puts thee in Christ, and he will
bring thee safe through without splitting or
sinking.
As thou art bound to account thyself safe
in him, so to admire that love which set thee
there. Noah was a holy man : but whence
were both his holiness and his preservation
while the world perished, but because he
found favor or free grace, as the word is, in
the eyes of the Lord 2 And no doubt, he did
much contemplate this, being secure within,
when the cries of the rest drowning were
about him. Thus think thou : “Seeing so
few are saved in this blessed Ark wherein I
am, in comparison of the multitudes that per-
ish in the deluge, whence is this ? why was
I chosen, and so many about me left 2 why,
but because it pleased him 3’” But all is strait
here. We have neither hearts nor time for
ample thoughts of this love, till we be beyond
time ; then shall we admire and praise with-
out ceasing, and without wearying.
As the example the apostle here makes use
of, is great and remarkable, so, Thirdly, it is
fit and suitable for the instruction of Chris-
tians to whom he proceeds to adapt and apply
it, in the particular resemblance of it to the
rule of Christianity. The like figure where-
unto, even baptism, doth also now save us.
In these words we have, I. The End of
Baptism. II. The proper virtue or efficacy
of it for that End. And, III. A resemblance
in both these to Noah's preservation in the
Flood.
I. The end of baptism, to save us. This
is the great common end of all the ordinances
of Godſ; that one high mark they all aim at.
And the great and common mistake in regard
to them is, thāt they are not so understood
WER. 19–21.]
273
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
and used. We come and sit awhile, and, if
we can keep awake, give the word the hear-
ing; but how few of us receive it as the in-
§ſ.” word that is able to save our souls '
ere it thus taken, what sweetness would
be found in it, which most who hear and read
it are strangers to . How precious would
those lines be, if we looked on them thus and
saw them meeting and concentring in salva-
tion as their end Thus, likewise, were the
sacraments considered indeed as seals of this
inheritance, annexed to the great charter of
it, seals of salvation, this would powerfully
beget a fit appetite for the Lord's Supper,
when we are invited to it, and would beget
a due esteem of baptism ; would teach you
more frequent and fruitful thoughts of your
own baptism, and more pious considerations
of it when you require it for your children.
A natural eye looks upon bread, and wine,
and water, and sees the outward difference
of their use there, that they are set apart and
differenced (as is evident by external circum-
stances) from their common use; but the main
of the difference, wherein their excellency
lies, it sees not, as the eye of faith above that
espies salvation under them. And oh ! what
a different thing are they to it, from what
they are to a formal user of them . We
should aspire to know the hidden rich things
of God, that are wrapped up in his ordinances.
We stick in the shell and surface of them, and
seek no further ; that makes them unbeauti-
ful and unsavory to us, and that use of them
turns into an empty custom. Let us be more
earnest with him who hath appointed them,
and made this their end, to save us, that he
would clear up the eye of our souls, to see
them thus under this relation, and to see how
they are suited to this their end, and tend to
it. And let us seriously seek salvation in
them, from his own hand, and we shall find
1t.
Doth save us...] ...So that this salvation of
Noah and his family from the deluge, and all
outward deliverances and salvations, are but
dark shadows of this. Let them not be spo-
ken of, these reprisals and prolongings of this
present life, in comparison of the deliverance
of the soul from death, the second death ; the
stretching of a moment, compared to the con-
cernment of eternity. How would any of you
welcome a full and sure protection from com-
mon dangers, if such were to be had, that you
should be ascertained of safety from Sword
and pestilence ; that whatever others suffered
about you, you and your family should be
free ' And those who have escaped a near
danger of this kind are apt to rest there, as
if no more were to be feared ; whereas this
common favor may be shown to those who
are afar off from God. And what though you
be not only thus far safe, but I say, if you
were secured for the future (which none of
you absolutely are), yet, when you are put
out of danger of sword and plague, still death
remains, and sin and wrath may be remain-
ing with it. And shall it not be all one, to
die under these in a time of public peace and
welfare, as if it were now 2 Yea, it may be
something more unhappy, by reason of the
increase of the heap of sin and wrath, guilti-
ness being augmented by life prolonged; and
more grievous to be pulled away from the
world in the midst of peaceable enjoyment,
and to have everlasting darkness succeed to
that short sunshine of thy day of ease; hap-
piness of a short date, and misery for ever !
What availed it wicked Ham to outlive the
flood, to inherit a curse after it : to be kept
undrowned in the waters, to see himself and
his posterity blasted with his father's curse ?
Think seriously, what will be the end of all
thy temporary safety and preservation, if thou
share not in this salvation, and find not thy-
self sealed and marked for it 2 What will it
avail, to flatter thyself with a dream of hap-
piness, and walk in the light of a few sparks
that will soon die out, and them lie down in
sorrow 2 Isai. l. 11. A sad bed that, which
the most have to go to, after they have wea-
ried themselves all the day, all their life, in a
chase of vanity
II. The next thing is, the power and virtue
of this means for its end. That baptism hath
a power, is clear, in that it is so expressly
said, it doth save us : what kind of power is
equally clear from the way it is here ex-
pressed: not by a natural force of the ele-
ment : though adapted and sacramentally
used, it can only wash away the filth of the
body ; its physical efficacy or power reaches
no further: but it is in the hand of the Spirit
of God, as other sacraments are, and as the
word itself is, to purify the conscience, and
convey grace and salvation to the soul, by the
reference it hath to, and union with, that
which it represents. It saves by the answer
of a good conscience unto God, and it affords
that, by the resurrection of Jesus from the
dead.
Thus, then, we have a true account of the
power of this, and so of other sacraments, and
a discovery of the error of two extremes: (1)
Of those who ascribe too much to them, as if
they wrought by a natural inherent virtue,
and carried grace in them inseparably. (2.)
Of those who ascribe too little to them, ma-
king them only signs and badges of our pro-
fession. Signs they are, but more than signs
merely representing ; they are means exhib-
iting, and seals confirming, grace to the faith-
ful. But the working of faith, and the con-
veying of Christ into the soul to be received
by faith, is not a thing put into them to do of
themselves, but still in the Supreme Hand
that appointed them; and he indeed both
causes the souls of his own to receive these
his seals with faith, and makes them effectual
to confirm that faith which receives theme so-
They are then, in a word, neither empty signs
to them who believe, nor effectual causes of
grace to them who believe not.
The mistake, on both sides, arises from the
35
274
[CHAH III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
want of duly considering the relative nature
of these seals, and that kind of union that is
between them and the grace they represent,
which is real, though not natural or physical,
as they speak, so that, though they do not
save all who partake of them, yet they do re-
ally and effectually save believers (for whose
salvation they are means), as the other exter-
mal ordinanees of God do. Though they have
not that power which is peculiar to the Au-
thor of them, yet a power they have, such as
befits their nature, and by reason of which
they are truly said to sanctify and justify, and
Soto save, as the apostle here avers of baptism.
Now, that which is intended for our help,
our carnal minds are ready to turn into a hin-
derance and disadvantage. The Lord repre-
senting invisible things to the eye, and con-
firming his promises even by visible seals, we
are apt from the grossness of our unspiritual
hearts, instead of stepping up by that which
is earthly, to the Divine spiritual things rep-
resented, to stay in the outward element, and
go no further. Therefore, the apostle, to lead
us into the inside of this seal of baptism, is
very clear in designating the effect and fruit
of it: Not (says he) the putting away the
filth of the flesh (and water, if you look no fur-
ther, can do no more); there is an invisible im-
purity upon our nature, chiefly on our invisi-
ble part, our soul: this washing means the
taking away of that, and where it reaches its
true effect, it doth so purify the conscience,
and makes it good, truly so, in the sight of
God, who is the judge of it.
Consider, 1. It is a pitiful thing to see the
ignorance of the most, professing Christianity,
and partaking of the outward seals of it, yet
not knowing what they mean: not apprehend-
ing the spiritual dignity and virtue of them.
Blind in the mysteries of the kingdom, they
are not so much as sensible of that blindness.
And being ignorant of the nature of these
holy things, they can not have a due esteem
of them, which arises out of the view of their
inward worth and efficacy. A confused fancy
they have of some good in them, and this
rising to the other extreme, to a superstitious
confidence in the simple performance and
participation of them, as if that carried some
inseparable virtue with it, which none could
miss of, who are sprinkled with the waters
of baptism, and share in the elements of bread
and wine in the Lord's Supper.
And what is the utmost plea of the most
for their title to heaven, but that in these
relative, and external things they are Chris-
tians; that they are baptized, hear the word,
and are admitted to the Lord's table 2–Not
considering how many have gone through all
these, who yet daily are going on in the ways
of death, never coming near Jesus Christ, who
is the way, and the truth, and the life, whom
the word, and the seals of it, hold forth to be-
Tieyers. And they are washed in his blood,
and quickened with his life, and made like
him, and co-heirs of glory with him.
2. Even those who have some clearer no-
tion of the nature and fruit of the seals of
grace, yet are in a practical error, in that they
look not with due diligence into themselves,
inquiring after the efficiency of them in their
hearts; do not study the life of Christ, to
know more what it is, and then, to search
into themselves for the truth and the growth
of that life within them. Is it not an unbe-
coming thing, for a Christian (when he is
about to appear before the Lord at his table,
and so looks something more narrowly with-
in) to find as little faith, as little Divine affec-
tion, a heart as unmortified to the world, as
cold toward Christ, as before his last address
to the same table, after the intervening, pos-
sibly, of many months; in which time, had
he been careful often to reflect inward on his
heart, and to look back upon that new sealing
in his last participation, he might probably
have been more conformable 2 And, truly, as
there is much guiltiness cleaves to us in this,
so, generally, much more in reference to this
other sacrament that is here the apostle's sub-
ject, baptism, which being but once adminis-
tered, and that in infancy, is very seldom and
sligntly considered by many, even real Chris-
tians. And so we are at a loss in that profit
and comfort, that increase of both holiness
and faith, which the frequent recollecting of
it, after a spiritual manner, would no doubt
advance us to. And not only do we neglect
to put ourselves upon the thoughts of it in
private, but, in the frequent opportunities of
| such thoughts in public, we let it pass
unregarded, are idle, inconsiderate, and so
truly guilty beholders. And the more fre-
quently we have these opportunities, the
less are we touched with them ; they be-
come common, and work not, and the slight-
ing of them grows as common with us as
the thing. Yea, when the engagement is
more special and personal, when parents are
to present their infants to this ordinance (and
then might, and certainly ought to have a
more particular and fixed eye upon it, and
themselves as being sealed with it, to ask
within after the fruit and power of it, and to
stir up themselves anew to the actings of
faith, and to ambition after newness of life,
and, with earnest prayer for their children,
to be suiters for themselves, for further evi-
dence of their interest in Christ); yet possibly
many are not much engaged in these things
even at such times, but are more busied to
prepare their house for entertaining their
friends, than to prepare their hearts for offer:
ing up their infant unto God to be sealed, and
withal to make a new offer of their own
hearts to him, to have renewed on them the
inward seal of the covenant of grace, the out-
ward seal whereof they did receiye, as it is
now to be conferred upon their infant.
Did we often look upon the face of our
souls, the beholding of the many spots with
which we have defiled them after our wash:
ing, might work us to shame and grief, and
WER. 19—21.]
275
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
would drive us by renewed application to
wash often in that blood which that water
figures, which alone can fetch out the stain
of sin ; and then, it would put us upon re-
newed purposes of purity, to walk more
carefully, to avoid the pollutions of the world
we walk in, and to purge out the pollutions
of the hearts that we carry about with us,
which defile us more than all the world be-
sides. It would work a holy disdain of sin,
often to contemplate ourselves as washed in
so precious a laver. Shall I, would the Chris-
tian say, considering that I am now cleansed
in the precious blood of my Lord Jesus, run
again into that puddle out of which he so
graciously took me, and made me clean 2
Let the swine wallow in it: he hath made me
of his sheep-fold. He hath made me of that
excellent order for which all are consecrated by
that washing, who partake of it: he hath wash-
ed us in his blood, and made us kings and
priests unto God the Father. Am I of these,
and shall I debase myself to the vile pleasures
of sin 2 No, I will think myself too good to
serve any sinful lusts : seeing that he hath
looked on me, and taken me up, and washed
and dignified me, and that I am wholly his,
all my study and business shall be, to honor
and magnify him.
The answer of a good conscience, &c.] The
taking away of spiritual filthiness, as the
true and saving effect of baptism, the apostle
here expresses by that which is the further
result and effect of it, the answer of a good
conscience unto God; for it is the washing
away of that filthiness which both makes
the conscience good, and in making it such,
fits it to make answer unto God. A good con-
science, in its full sense, is a pure conscience
and a peaceable conscience ; and it can not,
indeed, be peaceably good, unless it be pure-
ly good. And although, on the other side, it
may want the present enjoyment of peace,
being purified, yet, certainly, in a purified
conscience, there is a title and right to peace;
it is radically there, even when it appears
not ; and, in due time, it shall appear, shall
spring forth, bud, and flourish.
The purified and good condition of the
whole soul may well, as here it doth, go un-
der the name of the good conscience, it be-
ing so prime a faculty of it, and as the glass
of the whole soul, wherein the estate of it
is represented. Therefore, Heb, ix., the ef.
ficacy of the blood of Christ is expressed
thus, that it purifieth our consciences from
dead works ; which expression is the same
thing in effect with that here, the answer of
a good conscience unto God.
The answer [irspºrnual, the asking or ques-
tioning of conscience, which comprises like-
wise its answer; for the word intends the
whole correspondence of the conscience with
God, and with itself as toward God, or in
the sight of God. And indeed, God’s ques-
tioning it, is by itself; it is his deputy in the
soul. He makes it pose itself for him, and
before him, concerning its own condition,
and so, the answer it gives itself in that pos.
ture, he as it were sitting and hearing it in
his presence, is an answer made unto him.
This questioning and answering (if such a
thing were at this time, as it was certainly
Soon after), yet means not the questions and
answers used in the baptism of persons who,
being of years, professed their faith in an-
swering the questions moved ; it possibly al-
ludes unto that; but it further, by way of
resemblance, expresses the inward question-
ing and answering which is transacted with-
in, betwixt the soul and itself, and the soul
and God, and so is allusively called trepôrnpa,
a questioning and answering, but it is dis-
tinctively specified, eis 0309 : whereas the oth-
er was toward men, this is unto God.
A good conscience is a waking, speaking
conscience, and the conscience that questions
itself most, is of all sorts the best ; that
which is dumb, therefore, or asleep, and is
not active and ſrequent in self-inquiries, is
not a good conscience. The word is judi-
cial, repºrnua, alluding to the interrogation
used in law for the trial and executing of
processes. And this is the great business of
conscience, to sit, and examine, and judge
within ; to hold courts in the soul. And it
is of continual necessity that it be so: there
can be no vacation of this judicature, with-
out great damage to the estate of the soul;
yea, not a day ought to pass without a ses-
sion of conscience within ; for daily disor-
ders arise in the soul, which, if they pass on,
will grow and gather more, and so breed
more difficulty in their trial and redress. Yet
men do easily turn from this work as hard
and unpleasant, and make many a long vaca-
tion in the year, and protract it from one day
to another. . In the morning they must go
about their business, and at night, they are
weary and sleepy, and all the day long one
affair steps in after another; and in case of
that failing, some trifling company or other;
and so their days pass on, while the soul is
Overgrown with impunities and disorders.
You know what confusions, and disorders,
and evils, will abound among a rude people,
where there is no kind of court or judicature
held. Thus is it with that unruly rabble,
the lusts and passions of our º, when
there is no discipline or judgment within, or
where there is but a neglect and intermission
of it for a short time. And the most part of
souls are in the posture of ruin : their vile
affections, as a headstrong, tumultuous mul-
titude, that will not suffer a deputed judge to
sit among them, cry down their consciences,
and make a continual noise, that the voice
of it may not be heard, and so, force it to de-
sist and leave them to their own ways.
But you who take this course, know, you
are providing the severest judgment for your-
selves by this disturbing of judgment, as
when a people rise against an inferior judge,
the prince or supreme magistrate who sent
276
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
him, hearing of it, doth not fail to windicate
his honor and justice in their exemplary pun-
ishment.
Will you not answer unto conscience, but,
when it begins to speak, turn to business or
company, that you may not hear it? Know,
that it and you must answer unto God; and
when he shall make inquiry, it must report,
and report as the truth is, knowing that there
is no hiding the matter from him ; Lord,
there are, to my knowledge, a world of enor-
mities within the circuit I had to judge, and
I would have judged them, but was forcibly
withstood and interrupted ; and was not
strong enough to resist the tumultuous power
that rose against me; now the matter comes
into thine own hand to judge it thyself. What
shall the soul say in that day, when con-
science shall make such an answer unto
God, and it shall come under the severity of
his justice for all ? Whereas, if it had given
way to the conscience to find out, and judge,
and rectify matters, so that it could have an-
swered concerning its procedure that way,
God would accept this as the answer of a
good conscience, and what conscience had
done, he would not do over again: It hath
judged ; then, I acquit. For if we would
judge ourselves (says the apostle), we should
not be judged. 1 Cor. xi. 31.
The questioning or inquiry of conscience,
and so, its report or answer unto God, extends
to all the affairs of the soul, all the affections
and motions of it, and all the actions and
carriage of the whole man. The open wick-
edness of the most, testifies against them, that
though sprinkled with water in baptism, yet
they are strangers to the power and gracious
efficacy of it. Not being baptized with the
Holy Ghost and with fire, they have still
their dross and filth remaining in them, and
nothing else appearing in their ways; so that
their consciences can not so much as make a
good answer for them unto men, much less
unto God. What shall it answer for them,
being judged, but that they are swearers, and
cursers, and drunkards, or unclean 2 or that
they are slanderers, delighting to pass their
hours in descanting on the actions and ways
of others, and looking through the miscolored
glass of their own malice and pride; that
they are neglecters of God and holy things,
lovers of themselves and their own pleasures,
more than lovers of God 2 And have such
as these impudence enough to call themselves
Christians, and to pretend themselves to be
such as are washed in the blood of Christ 2
Yes, they do this. But be ashamed and con-
founded in yourselves, you that remain in this
condition. Yea, although thou art blame-
less in men's eyes, and possibly in thy own
eyes too, yet thou may est be filthy still in the
sight of God. . There is such a generation, a
multitude of them, that are pure in their own
eyes, and yet are not washed from their filthi-
ness (Prov. xxx. 12); moral evil persons who
are most satisfied with their own estate, or
such as have further a form of godliness, but
their lusts are not mortified by the power of
it, secret pride, and earthliness of mind, and
vain glory, and carnal wisdom, being still en-
tertained with pleasure within.
These are foul pollutions, filthy and hateful
in the sight of God ; so that there it is thus,
that such guests are in peaceable possession
of the heart, there the blood and Spirit of
Christ are not yet come ; neither can there
be this answer of a good Conscience unto God.
This answer of a good conscience unto God,
as likewise its questioning, to enable itself
for that answer, is touching two great points,
which are of chief concern to the soul, its
justification, and its sanctification ; for bap-
tism is the seal of both, and purifies the con-
science in both respects. That water is the
figure both of the blood and the water, the
justifying blood of Christ, and the pure water
of the sanctifying Spirit of Christ: He takes
away the condemning guiltiness of sin, by
the one, and the polluting filthiness, by the
other. e sº
Now, the conscience of a real believer in:
quiring within, upon right discovery will
make this answer unto God: Lord, I have
found that there is no standing before thee,
for the soul in itself is overwhelmed with a
world of guiltiness: but I find a blood sprink-
led upon it, that hath, I am sure, virtue enough
to purge it all away, and to present it pure
unto thee; and I know that wheresoever thou
findest that blood sprinkled, thine anger is
quenched and appeased immediately upon the
sight of it. Thine hand can not smite where
that blood is before thine eye.—And this the
Lord does agree to, and authorizes the con-
science, upon this account, to return back an
answer of safety and peace to the soul. . .
So for the other point: Lord, I find a living
work of holiness on this soul: though there
is yet corruption there, yet it is as a continual
grief and vexation, it is an implacable hatred,
there is no peace between them, but continual
enmity and hostility ; and if I can not sa
much of the high degrees of grace, and fait
in Christ, and love to him, and heavenliness
of mind, yet, I may say, there is a beginning
of these: at least, this I most confidently af-
firm, that there are real and earnest desires
of the soul after these things. It would know
and conform to thy will, and be delivered
from itself and its own will ; and though it
were to the highest displeasure of all the
world, it would gladly walk in all well-pleas-
ing unto thee. Now, he who sees the truth
of these things, knowing it to be thus, owns
it as his own work, and engages himself to
advance it, and bring it to perfection. This
is a taste of that intercourse which the purifi-
ed conscience hath with God, as the saving
fruit of baptism. &
And all this it doth, not of itself, but by
virtue of the resurrection of Jesus Christ,
which refers both to the remote effect, sal-
vation, and to the nearer effect, as a means
WER. 19—21.]
277.
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
and pledge of that, the purifying of the con-
science. &
By this his death, and the effusion of his
blood in his sufferings, are not excluded, but
are included in it, his resurrection being the
evidence of that whole work of expiation, both
completed and accepted: full payment being
made by our surety, and so, he set free, his
freedom is the cause and the assurance of ours.
Therefore the Apostle St. Paul expresses it so,
that He died for our sins, and rose for our
righteousness; and our apostle shows us the
worth of our living hope in this same resurrec-
tion, chap. i. ver. 3. Blessed be the God and
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who accord-
ing to his abundant mercy, hath begotten us
again unto a lively hope, by the resurrection
of Jesus Christ from the dead.
Now, that baptism doth apply and seal to
the believer his interest in the death and
resurrection of Christ, the Apostle St. Paul
teaches to the full, Rom. vi. 4: We are buried
with him, says he, by baptism into his death,
that like as Christ was raised up from the
dead by the glory of the Father, even so we
should also walk in newness of life. The
dipping into the waters representing our dy-
ing with Christ; and the return thence, our
rising with him.
The last thing is, the resemblance of bap-
tism, in these things, to the saving of Noah
in the flood. And it holds in that we spoke
of last ; for he seemed to have rather entered
into a grave, as dead, than into a safeguard
of life, in going into the ark; yet, being buried
there, he rose again, as it were, in his com-
ing forth to begin a new world. The waters
of the flood drowned the ungodly, as a heap
of filthiness washed them away, them and
their sin together as one, being inseparable;
and upon the same waters, the ark floating,
preserved Noah. Thus, the waters of bap-
tism are intended as a deluge to drown sin
and to save the believer, who by faith is sepa-
rated both from the world and from his sin ;
so, it sinks, and he is saved.
And there is, further, another thing specifi-
ed by the apostle, wherein, though it be a
little hard, yet he chiefly intends the parallel;
the fewness of those that are saved by both.
For though many are sprinkled with the ele-
mental water of baptism, yet few, so as to
attain by it the answer of a good conscience
toward God, and to live by participation of
the resurrection and life of Christ.
Thou that seest the world perishing in a
deluge of wrath, and art now most thought-
ful for this, how thou shalt escape it, fly into
Christ as thy safety, and rest secure there.
Thou shalt find life in his death, and that life
further ascertained to thee in his rising again.
So full and clear a title to life hast thou in
these two, that thou canst challenge all ad-
versaries upon this very ground, as uncon-
querable while thou standest on it, and mayest
speak thy challenge in the apostle's style, It
is God that justifieth, who shall condemn 2
But how know you that he justifies 2 It is
Christ that died, yea, rather that is risen, who
sitteth at the right hand of God, who also
maketh intercession for us. Rom. viii. 33, 34.
It alludes to that place, Isa. l. 8, where Christ
speaks of himself, but in the name of all who
adhere to him ; He is near that justifies me:
who is he that will contend with me & So that
what Christ speaks there, the apostle, with
good reason, imparts to each believer as in
him. If no more is to be laid to Christ's
charge, he being now acquitted, as is clear
by his rising again ; then, neither to thine,
who art clothed with him, and one with him.
This is the grand answer of a good con-
science ; and, in point of justifying them be-
fore God, there can be no answer but this.
What have any to say to thee ? Thy debt is
paid by him who undertook it; and he is free.
Answer all accusations with this, Christ is
7°2S6277.
And then, for the mortifying of sin, and
strengthening of thy graces, look daily on that
death and resurrection. Study them, set thine
eye upon them, till thy heart take on the
impression of them by much spiritual and
affectionate looking on them. Beholding the
glory of thy Lord Christ, then, be transform-
ed into it. 2 Cor. iii. 18. It is not only a
moral pattern or copy, but an effectual cause
of thy sanctification, having real influence
into thy soul. Dead with him, and again alive
with him " Oh happiness and dignity un-
speakable, to have this life known and clear-
ed to your souls . If it were, how would it
make you live above the world, and all the
vain hopes and fears of this wretched life,
and the fear of death itself! Yea, it would
make that visage of death most lovely, which
to the world is most affrightful.
It is the apostle's maxim, that the carnal
mind is enmity against God ; and as it is uni-
versally true of every carnal mind, so of all
the motions and thoughts of it. Even where
it seems to agree with God, yet it is still con-
trary ; if it acknowledge and conform to his
ordinance, yet, even in so doing, it is on direct-
ly opposite terms to him, particularly in this,
that what he esteems most in them, the car-
nal mind makes least account of. He chiefly
eyes and values the inside: the natural man
dwells and rests in the shell and surface of
them. God, according to his spiritual nature,
looks most on the more spiritual part of his
worship and worshippers; the carnal mind is
in this, just like itself, altogether for the sen:
sible, external part, and unable to look beyond
it. Therefore the apostle here, having taken
occasion to speak of baptism in terms that
contain a parallel and resemblance between
it and the flood, is express in correcting this
mistake. It is not, says he, the putting away
of the filth of the flesh, but the answer of a
good conscience.
Were it possible to persuade you, I would
recommend one thing to you : learn to look
on the ordinances of God suitably to their
278
[CHAP. III.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
nature, spiritually, and inquire after the spirit-
ual effect and working of them upon your
consciences. We would willingly, have all
religion reduced to externals; this is our natu-
ral choice; and we would pay all in this coin,
as cheaper and easier by far, and would com-
pound for the spiritual part, rather to add and
give more external performance and cere-
mony. Hence, the natural complacency in
popery, which is all for this service of the
flesh and body-services; and to those pre-
scribed by God, will deal so liberally with
him in that kind, as to add more, and frame
new devices and rites, what you will in this
kind, sprinklings, and washings, and anoint-
ings, and incense. But whither tends all
this? Is it not a gross mistaking of God, to
think him thus pleased ? Or is it not a direct
affront, knowing that he is not pleased with
these, but desires another thing, to thrust
that upon him which he cares not for, and
refuse him what he calls for ?—that single,
humble heart-worship and walking with him,
that purity of spirit and conscience which only
he prizes; no outward service being accepta-
ble, but for these, as they tend to this end and
do attain it. Give me, saith he, nothing, if
you give not this, Oh! saith the carnal mind,
anything but this thou shalt have; as many
washings and offerings as thou wilt, thousands
of rams, and ten thousand rivers of oil; yea,
rather than fail, let the fruit of my body go
for the sin of my soul. Mic. vi. 6. Thus we:
will the outward use of the word and sacra-
ments do it? then, all shall be well. Baptized
we are ; and shall I hear much and com-
municate often, if I can reach it? Shall I be
exact in point of family-worship 2 Shall I
pray in secret? All this I do, or at least I
now promise. Ay, but when all that is done,
there is }. One thing may be wanting, and if it
be so, all that amounts to nothing. Is thy con-
science purified, and made good by all these ;
or art thou seeking and aiming at this, by the
use of all means ? Then certainly thou shalt
find life in them. But does thy heart still
remain uncleansed from the old ways, not
purified from the pollutions of the world 2
Do thy beloved sins still lodge with thee, and
keep possession of thy heart 2 Then art
thou still a stranger to Christ, and an enemy
to God. The word and seals of life are dead
to thee, and thou art still dead in the use of
them all. Know you not that many have
made shipwreck upon the very rock of salva-
tion ? that many who were baptized as well
as you, and as constant attendants on all the
worship and ordinances of God as you, yet
have remained without Christ, and died in
their sins, and are now past recovery 2
that you would be warned There are still
multitudes running headlong that same course,
Oh
!
º
baptized, and yet unbaptized . As the prophet
takes in the profane multitude of God's own
people with the nations, Jer. ix. 26, Egypt,
and Judah, and Edom ; all these nations are
uncircumcised : and the worst came last; and
all the house of Israel are uncircumcised in the
heart : thus, the most of us are unbaptized
in the heart. And as this is the way of per-
sonal destruction, so it is that, as the prophet
there declares, which brings upon the church
so many public judgments; and as the apostle
tells the Corinthians (1 Ep. xi. 30), that for
the abuse of the Lord's Table, many were
sick, and many slept. Certainly, our abuse
of the holy things of God, and want of their
proper spiritual fruits, are among the prime
sins of this land, for which so many slain have
fallen in the fields by the sword, and in the
streets by pestilence; and more are likely
yet to fall, if we thus continue to provoke the
Lord to his face. For, it is the most avowed,
direct affront, to profane his holy things ; and
this we do while we answer not their proper
end, and are not inwardly sanctified by them.
We have no other word, nor other sacraments,
to recommend to you, than those which you
have used so long to no purpose; only we
would call you from the dead forms, to seek
the living power of them, that you perish
In Ot.
You think the renouncing of baptism a
horrible word, and that we would speak so
only of witches; yet it is a common guilti-
ness that cleaves to all who renounce not the
filthy lusts and the self-will of their own
hearts. For baptism carries in it a renoun-
cing of these ; and so, the cleaving unto these,
is a renouncing of it. Oh we all were
sealed for God in baptism; but who lives as
if it was so 2 How few have the impression
of it on the conscience, and the expression
of it in the walk and fruit of their life . We
do not, as clean-washed persons, abhor and
fly all pollutions, All fellowship with the un-
fruitful works of darkness.
We have been a long time hearers of the
gospel, whereof baptism is the seal, and
most of us often at the Lord’s Table. What
hath all this done upon us? Ask within :
Are your hearts changed ? Is there a new
creation there ? Where is that spiritual-
mindedness? Are your hearts dead to the
world and sin, and alive to God, your con-
sciences purged from dead works 3
What means you ? Is not this the end of
all the ordinances, to make all clean, and to
renew and make good the conscience, to
bring the soul and your Lord into a happy
amity, and a good correspondence, that it
may not only be on speaking terms, but often
speak and converse with him 3–may have
liberty both to demand and answer, as the
tending to destruction, through the midst of original word implies 2 that it may speak the
all the means of salvation; the saddest way
of all to it, through word and Sacraments, and
language of faith and humble obedience unto
God, and that he may speak the language of
all heavenly ordinances, to be walking hell-'peace to it, and both, the language of the
ward
Christians, and yet no Christians; Lord each to the other ?
WER. 19–21.]
279.
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
That conscience alone is good, which is
much busied in this work, in demanding and
answering ; which speaks much with itself,
and much with God. This is both the sign
that it is good, and the means to make it
better. That soul will doubtless be very wary
in its walk, which takes daily account of it-
self, and renders up that account unto God.
It will not live by guess, but naturally exam-
ine each step beforehand, because it is re-
solved to examine all after ; will consider
well what it should do, because it means to
ask over again what it hath dome, and not
only to answer itself, but to make a faithful
report of all unto God; to lay all before him,
continually upon trial made: to tell him what
is in any measure well done, as his own
work, and bless him for that ; and tell him,
too, all the slips and miscarriages of the day,
as Our own ; complaining of ourselves in his
presence, and still entreating free pardon,
and more wisdom to walk more holily and
exactly, and gaining, even by our failings,
more humility and more watchfulness.
If you would have your own consciences
answer well, they must inquire and question
much beforehand. Whether is this I pur-
pose, and go about, agreeable to my Lord's
will ? Will it please him 2 Ask that more,
and regard that more, than this, which the
most follow. Will it please or profit my-
self? Fits that my own humor? And ex-
amine not only the bulk and substance of thy
Ways and actions, but the manner of them,
how thy heart is set. So think it not enough
to go to church or to pray, but take heed how
$/€ hear 3 consider how pure he is, and how
piercing his eye, whom thou servest.
Then, again, afterward; think it not enough,
I was praying, or hearing, or reading, it was
a good work, what need I question it further ?
No, but be still reflecting and asking how it
Was done: How have I heard, how have I
prayed 4 Was my heart humbled by the dis-
coveries of sin, from the word 2 Was it re-
freshed with the promises of grace? Did it
iie level under the word, to receive the stamp
9f it? Was it in prayer set and kept in a
holy bent toward God? Did it breathe forth
real and earnest desires into his ear; or was
it remiss, and roving, and dead in the service 2
So in my society with others, in such and
such company, what was spent of my time,
and how did I employ it 2 Did I seek to
honor my Lord, and to edify my brethren, by
my carriage and speeches; or did the time
run out in trifling vain discourse ? When
alone, was it the carriage and walk of my
heart 2 Where it hath most liberty to move
in its own pace, is it delighted in converse
With God 2 Are the thoughts of heavenly
things frequent and sweet to it; or does it
run after the earth and the delights of it,
Spinning out itself in impertinent vain con-
trivances 2
The neglect of such inquiries, is that which
entertains and increases the impurity of the
soul, so that men are afraid to look into them-
selves, and to look up to God. But Oh! what
a foolish course is this, to shift off what can
not be avoided ! In the end, answer must be
made to that all-seeing Judge with whom
we have to do, and to whom we owe our
a CCOUntS.
And, truly, it should be seriously consid-
ered, what makes this good conscience,
which makes an acceptable answer unto
God. That appears by the opposition, not
the putting away the filth of the flesh . then,
it is the putting away of soul-filthiness ; so
it is the renewing and purifying of the con-
science, that makes it good, pure, and peace-
able. In the purifying, it may be troubled,
which is but the stirring in cleansing of it,
and makes more quiet in the end, and physic,
or the lancing of a sore; and after it is in
some measure cleansed, it may have fits of
trouble, which yet still add further purity
and further peace. So there is no hazard in
that work; but all the misery is, a dead se-
curity of the conscience while remaining fil-
thy, and yet unstirred; or, after some stir-
ring or pricking, as a wound not, thoroughly
cured, skinned over, which will but breed
more vexation in the end ; it will fester and
grow more difficult to be cured, and if it be
cured, it must be by deeper cutting and more
pain, than if at first it had endured a thor-
ough search.
O, my brethren take heed of sleeping
unto death in carnal ease. Resolve to take
no rest till you be in the element and place
of soul-rest, where solid rest indeed is. Rest
not till you be with Christ. Though all the
world should offer their best, turn them by
with disdain; if they will not be turned by,
throw them down, and go over them, and
trample upon them. Say you have no rest
to give me, nor will I take any at your hands,
nor from any creature. There is no rest for
me till I be under his shadow, who endured
so much trouble to purchase my rest, and
whom having found, I may sit down quiet
and satisfied ; and when the men of the
world make boast of the highest content, I
will outvie them all with this one word, my
beloved is mine, and I am his.
The answer of a good conscience toward
God..] The conscience of man is never right-
ly at peace in itself, till it be rightly persuad-
ed of peace with God, which, while it re-
mains filthy, it can not be ; for he is holy,
and iniquity can not dwell with him. What
communion betwixt light and darkness? 200r.
vi. 14. So then the conscience must be
cleansed, ere it can look upon God with as-
surance and peace. This cleansing is sacra-
mentally performed by baptism; effectually,
by the Spirit of Christ and the blood of
Christ; and he lives to impart both ; there-
fore here is mentioned his resurrection from
the dead, as that, by virtue whereof we are
assured of this purifying and peace. Then
can the conscience, in some measure with
280
[CHAP. III
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
confidence, answer, Lord, though polluted
by former sins, and by sin still dwelling in
me, yet thou seest that my desires are to be
daily more like my Savior; I would have
more love and zeal for thee, more hatred of
sin. It can answer with St. Peter, when he
was posed, Lovest thou me 3 Lord, I appeal
to thine own eye, who seest my heart; Lord,
thou knowest that I love thee ; at least I de-
sire to love thee, and to desire thee; and
that is love. Willingly would I do thee more
suitable service, and honor thy name more ;
and I do sincerely desire more grace for this,
that thou may est have more glory ; and I
entreat the light of thy countenance for this
end, that, by seeing it, my heart may be more
weaned from the world, and knit unto thy-
self. Thus it answers touching its inward
frame, and the work of holiness by the Spirit
of holiness dwelling in it. But, to answer
justice, touching the point of guilt, it flies to
the blood of sprinkling, fetches all its answer
thence, turns over the matter upon it, and
that blood answers for it; for it doth speak,
and speak better things than the blood of Abel,
Heb. xii. 24; speaks full payment of all that
can be exacted from the sinner; and that is
a sufficient answer.
The conscience is then, in this point, at
first made speechless, driven to a nonplus in
itself, hath from itself no answer to make ;
but then it turns about to Christ, and finds
what to say: Lord, there is indeed in me
nothing but guiltiness; I have deserved death;
but I have fled into the city of refuge which
thou hast appointed; there I resolve to abide,
to live and die there. If justice pursue me,
it shall find me there: I take sanctuary in
Jesus. . The arrest laid upon me, will light
upon him, and he hath wherewithal to an-
swer it. He can straightway declare he hath
paid all, and can make it good. He hath the
acquaintance to show ; yea, his own liberty
is a real sign of it. He was in prison, and
is let free, which tells that all is satisfied.
Therefore the answer here rises out of the
resurrection of Jesus Christ.
And in this very thing lies our peace, and
our way, and all our happiness. Oh it is
Worth your time and pains, to try your in-
terest in this; it is the only thing worthy
your highest diligence. But the most are
out of their wits, running like a number of
distracted persons, and still in a deal of busi-
ness, but to what end they know not. You
are unwilling to be deceived in those things
which, at their best and surest, do but de-
ceive you when all is done; but are content
to be deceived in that which is your great
concernment. You are your own deceivers
in it; gladly gulled with shadows of faith
and repentance, false touches of sorrow, and
false flashes of joy, and are not careful to
have your souls really unbottomed from them-
selves, and built upon Christ; to have him
your treasure, your righteousness, your all,
and to have him your answer unto God your
Father. But if you will yet be advised, let
go all, to lay hold on him: lay your souls on
him, and leave him not. He is a tried foun-
dation-stone, and he that trusts on him, shall
not be confounded.
WER. 22. Who is gone into heaven, and is on the
right hand of God; angels, and authorities, and
powers, being made subject unto him.
THIS is added on purpose to show us fur-
ther, what he is, how high and glorious a
Savior we have
We have here four points or steps of the
exaltation of Christ:—1. Resurrection from
the dead. 2. Ascension into heaven. 3. Sit-
ting at the right hand of God. 4. In that
posture, his royal authority over the angels.
The particulars are clear in themselves. Of
the sitting at the right hand of God, you are
not ignorant that it is a borrowed expression,
drawn from earth to heaven, to bring down
some notion of heaven to us; to signify to
us in our language, suitably to our customs,
the supreme dignity of Jesus Christ, God
and Man, the Mediator of the new covenant,
his matchless nearness unto his Father, and
the sovereignty given him over heaven and
earth. And that of the subjection of angels,
is but a more particular specifying of that
his dignity and power, as enthroned at the
Father's right hand, they being the most el-
evated and glorious creatures: so that his
authority over all the world is implied in
that subjection of the highest and noblest
part of it. His victory and triumph over the
angels of darkness, is an evidence of his in-
vincible power and greatness, and matter of
comfort to his saints; but this here intends
his supremacy over the glorious elect angels.
That there is among them priority, we find ;
that there is a comely order in their differ-
ences, can not be doubted; but to marshal
their degrees and stations above, is a point,
not only of vain fruitless curiosity, but of pre-
sumptuous intrusion. Whether these are
names of their different particular dignities,
or only different names of their general ex-
cellency and power, as I think it can not be
certainly well determined, so it imports us
not to determine: only, this we know, and
are particularly taught from this place, that
whatsoever is their common dignity, both in
names and differences, they are all subject to
our glorious Head, Christ. e -
What confirmation they have in their es-.
tate by him (though piously asserted by di-
vines), is not so infallibly clear from the al-
leged scriptures, which may bear another
sense. But this is certain, that he is their
king, and they acknowledge him to be so; and
do incessantly admire and adore him. They
rejoice in his glory, and in the glory and hap:
piness of mankind through him. They yield
him most cheerful obedience, and serve him
readily in the good of his church, and of each
particular believer, as he deputes and employs
them.
WER. 22.]
281
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
This is the thing here intended, having in it
these two: his dignity above them, and his
authority over them.
1. Such is his dignity, that even that nature
which he stooped below them to take on, he
hath carried up and raised above them; the
very earth, the flesh of man, being exalted in
his person above all those heavenly spirits,
who are of so excellent and pure a being in
their nature, and from the beginning of the
world, have been clothed with so transcend-
ent glory. A parcel of clay is made sobright,
and set so high, as to outshine those bright
flaming spirits, those Stars of the morning,
that flesh being united to the Fountain of
Light, the blessed Deity in the person of the
Son.
In coming to fetch and put on this garment,
he made himself lower than the angels ; but
carrying it with him, at his return to his eter-
nal throne, and sitting down with it there, it
is raised. high above them ; as the apostle
teaches excellently and amply: To which %
them said he, Sit on my right hand 2 Heb.
i. 2.
This they look upon with perpetual won-
der, but not with envy or repining. No, among
all their eyes, no such eye is to be found. Yea,
they rejoice in the infinite wisdom of God in
this design, and his infinite love to poor lost
mankind. It is wonderful, indeed, to see him
filling the room of their fallen brethren with
new guests from earth, yea, with such as are
born heirs of hell ; but that not only sinful
men should thus be raised to a participation
of glory with them who are spotless, sinless
spirits, but their flesh, in their Redeemer,
should be dignified with a glory so far beyond
them—this is that mystery the angels are in-
tent on looking and prying into, and can not,
nor ever shall, see the bottom of it, for it hath
AOIl€.
2. Jesus Christ is not only exalted above
the angels in absolute dignity, but in relative
authority over them. He is made captain
over those heavenly bands: they are all under
his command, for all services wherein it
pleases him to employ them and the great
employment he hath, is the attending on his
church, and on particular elect ones. Are
they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to
minister to them that shall be heirs of salva-
tion ? Heb. i. ult. They are the servants of
Christ, and in him, and at his appointment,
the servants of every believer; and are many
ways serviceable and useful for their good,
which truly we do not duly consider. There
is no danger of overvaluing them, and incli-
ning to worship them upon this consideration;
yea, if we take it right, it will rather take us
off from that. The angel judged his argu-
ment strong enough to St. John against that,
that he was but his fellow-servant, Rev. xix.
10. But this is more, that they are servants
to us, although not therefore inferior, it being
an honorary service. Yet certainly they are
inferior to our Head, and so, to his mysti-
i. body, taken in that motion, as a part of
1IIl.
Reflection 1. The height of this our Sa-
vior's glory will appear the more, if we re-
flect on the descent from which he ascended
to it. Oh how low did we bring down so
high a majesty, into the pit wherein we had
fallen, by climbing to be higher than he had
set us! It was high indeed, as we were fallen
so low, and yet he, against whom our sin was
committed, came down to help us up again,
and to take hold of us—took us on ; so the
word is [&mixap64yerat], Hebrews ii. 16: He took
not hold of the angels—let them go, hath left
them to die for ever—but he took hold of the
seed of Abraham, and took on him indeed
their flesh, dwelling among us, and in a mean
part. He emptied himself, irsvogs (Phil. ii. 7),
and became of no repute. And further, after
he descended to the earth, and into our flesh,
in it he became obedient to death upon the
cross, and descended into the grave. And by
these steps, he was walking toward that
glory wherein he now is: He abased himself,
wherefore, says the apostle, God hath highly
ea'alted him. Phil. ii. 8. So he says of him-
self, Ought not Christ first to suffer these
things, and so enter into his glory? Luke
xxiv. 26. Now this, indeed, it is pertinent to
consider. The apostle is here upon the point
of Christ's sufferings; that is his theme, and
therefore he is so particular in the ascending
of Christ to his glory. Who, of those that
would come thither, will refuse to follow
him in the way wherein he led, he, [doxnyńsl
the leader of our faith ? Hebrews xii. 2.
And who, of those who follow him, will
not love and delight to follow him through
any way, the lowest and darkest ? It is
excellent and safe, and then, it ends you see
where.
Refl. 2. Think not strange of the Lord's
method with his church, in bringing her to
so low and desperate a posture many times.
Can she be in a condition more seemingly
desperate than was her Head—not only in ig-
nominious sufferings, but dead and laid in the
grave, and the stone rolled to it and sealed,
and all made sure ? And yet he arose and
ascended, and now sits in glory, and shall sit
till all his enemies become his footstool. Do
not fear for him, that they shall overtop, yea,
or be able to reach him who is exalted higher
than the heavens: neither be afraid for his
church, which is his body, and, if her Head
be safe and alive, can not but partake of safe-
ty and life with him. Though she were, to
sight, dead and laid in the grave, yet shall
she arise thence, and be more glorious than
before (Isaiah xxvi. 19); and still, the deeper
her distress, shall rise the higher in the day
of deliverance.
Thus, in his dealing with a soul, observe
the Lord's method. Think it not strange that
he brings a soul low, very low, which he
means to comfort and exalt very high in grace
and glory; that he leads it by hell-gates to
282
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
heaven; that it be at that point, My God, my
God, why hast thou forsaken me & Was not
the Head put to use that word, and so to
speak it, as the head speaks for the body,
seasoning it for his members, and sweetening
that bitter cup by his own drinking of it !
Oh what a hard condition may a soul be
brought unto, and put to think, Can he love
me, and intend mercy for me, who leaves me
to this 2 And yet, in all, the Lord is prepar-
ing it thus for comfort and blessedness.
Refl. 3. Turn your thoughts more frequently
to this excellent subject, the glorious high es-
tate of our great High Priest. The angels ad-
mire this mystery, and we slight it ! They re-
joice in it, and we, whom it certainly more near-
ly concerns, are not moved with it ; we do
not draw that comfort and instruction from it,
which it would plentifully afford, if it were
sought after. It would comfort us against all
troubles and fears to reflect, “Is he not on
high, who hath undertaken for us? Doth
anything befall us, but it is past first in heav-
en 2 And shall anything pass there to your
prejudice or damage 2. He sits there, and is
upon the counsel of all, who hath loved us,
and given himself for us; yea, who, as he de-
scended thence for us, did likewise ascend
thither again for us. He hath made our in-
heritance which he purchased, there sure to
us, taking possession for us, and in our name,
since he is there, not only as the Son of God,
but as our surety, and as our Head.” And so
the believer may think himself even already
possessed of this right, inasmuch as his Christ
is there. The saints are glorified already in
their Head. Ubi caput meum regnat ibi me
regnare credo : Where he reigns, there I be-
lieve myself to reign, says Augustine. And
consider, in all thy straits and troubles, out-
ward or inward, they are not hid from him.
He knows them, and feels them, thy compas-
sionate High Priest hath a gracious sense of
thy frailties and griefs, fears, and temptations,
and will not suffer thee to be surcharged. He
is still presenting thy estate to the Father,
and using that interest and power which he
hath in his affection, for thy good. And what
wouldst thou more ? Art thou one whose
heart desires to rest upon him, and cleave to
him 2 Thou art knit so to him, that his res-
urrection and glory secure thee thine. His
life and thine are not two, but one life, as that
of the head and members; and if he could not
be overcome of death, thou canst not neither.
Oh! that sweet word, Because I live, ye shall
live also. John xiv. 19.
Let thy thoughts and carriage be moulded
in this contemplation rightly, ever to look on
thy exalted Head. Consider his glory; see
not only thy nature raised in him above the
angels, but thy person interested by faith in
that his glory; and thea, think thyself too
good to serve any base lust. Look down on
sin and the world with a holy disdain, being
united to him who is so exalted and so glori-
ous. And let not thy mind creep here; en-
gage not thy heart to anything that time and
this earth can afford. Oh why are we so
little where there is such a spring of delight-
ful and high thoughts for us?. If ye be risen
with Christ, seek those things which are above,
where he sits. Col. iii. 1. "What mean you ?
Are ye such as will let go your interest in this
Once crucified, and now glorified Jesus 2 If
not, why are ye not more conformable to it?
Why does it not possess your hearts more ?
Ought it not to be thus? Should not our
hearts be where our treasure, where Our bles-
sed Head is ? Oh how unreasonable, how un-
friendly is it, how much may we be ashamed
to have room in our hearts for earnest thoughts,
or desires, or delights, about anything beside
him 2
Were this deeply wrought upon the hearts
of those that have a right in it, would there
be found in them any attachment to the poor
things that are passing away ? Would death
be a terrible word 2 Yea, would, it not be
One of the sweetest, most rejoicing thoughts
to solace and ease the heart under all pres-
sures, to look forward to that day of liberty ?
This infectious disease” may keep possession
of all the winter, and grow hot with the year
again. Do not flatter yourselves, and think
it is past : you have yet remembering strokes
to keep it in your eye. But, however, shall
we abide always here 2 . Or is there any rea-
son when things are duly weighed, why we
should desire it 2 Well, if you would be
united beforehand, and so feel your separa-
tion from this world less, this is the only way:
Look up to him who draws up all hearts that
do indeed behold him. Then, I say, thy heart.
shall be removed beforehand; and the rest is
easy and sweet. When that is done, all is
gained. And consider, how he desires the
completion of our union with him. Shall it
be his request and earnest desire, and shall it
not be ours too, that where he is, there we ma
be also 2 John xvii. 24. Let us expect it j
patient submission, yet striving by desires and
suits, and looking out for our release from this
body of sin and death.
CHAPTER [W.
VER. 1. Forasmuch then as Christ hath suffered for
us in the flesh, arm yourselves likewise with the
same mind; for he that hath suffered in the flesh
hath ceased from sin.
THE main of a Christian's duty lies in these
two things, patience in suffering, and avoid-
ance of sim, dvéxov kai drixov, and they have a
natural influence upon each other. Although
affliction simply doth not, yet affliction sweet-
ly and humbly carried, doth purify and disen-
gage the heart from sin, wean it from the
world and the common ways of it. And
* This probably refers to the pestilence in 1665.
See the lecture on chap. iv. 6... “Though the pesti-
lence doth not affright you so,” &c.
VER. 1.]
283
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
again, holy and exact walking keeps the soul
in a sound, healthful temper, and so enables
it to patient suffering, to bear things more
easily ; as a strong body endures fatigue, heat,
cold, and hardship, with ease, a small part
whereof would surcharge a sickly constitu-
tion. The consciousness of sin, and careless
unholy courses, do wonderfully weaken a soul
and distemper it, so that it is not able to en-
dure much ; every little thing disturbs it.
Therefore, the apostle hath reason, both to
insist so much on these two points in this
epistle, and likewise to interweave the one
so often with the other, pressing jointly
throughout, the cheerful bearing of all kinds
of afflictions, and the careful forbearing all
kinds of sin; and out of the one discourse he
slides into the other; as here.
And as the things agree in their nature, so, in
their great pattern and principle, Jesus Christ;
and the apostle still draws both thence ; that,
of patience, chap. iii. 18, that of holiness,
here : Forasmuch, then, as Christ hath suf-
fered for us, &c.
The chief study of a Christian, and the very
thing that makes him to be a Christian, is,
conformity with Christ. Summa religionis
imitari quem colis : This is the sum of reli-
;"| (said that wise heathen, Pythagoras), to
e like him whom thou worshippest. But this
example being in itself too sublime, is brought
down to our view in Christ: the brightness
of God is veiled, and veiled in our own flesh,
that we may be able to look on it. The in-
accessible light of the Deity is so attempered
in the humanity of Christ, that we may read
our lesson by it in him, and may direct our
walk by it. And that truly is our only way;
there is nothing but wandering and perish-
ing in all other ways, nothing but darkness
and misery out of him ; but He that follows
me, says he, shall not walk in darkness. John
viii. 12. And therefore is he set before us in
the gospel, in so clear and lively colors, that
we may make this our whole endeavor, to be
like him.
Consider here : 1. The high engagement
to this conformity. 2. The nature of it.
3. The actual improvement of it.
1. The engagement lies in this, that he
suffered for us. Of this we have treated be-
fore. Only, in reference to this, had he come
down, as some have misimagined it, only to
set us this perfect way of obedience, and give
us an example of it in our own nature, this
had been very much : that the Son of God
should descend to teach wretched man, and
the great King descend into man, and dwell
in a tabernacle of clay, to set up a school in
it, for such ignorant, accursed creatures, and
should, in his own person, act the hardest
lessons, both in doing and suffering, to lead
us in both. But the matter goes yet higher
than this. Oh! how much higher hath he
suffered, not simply as our rule, but as our
Surety, and in our stead He suffered for us
in the flesh. We are the more obliged to
make his suffering our example; because it
was to us more than an example ; it was our
Tall SOII].
This makes the conformity reasonable in a
double aspect. . [1..] It is due, that we follow
him, who led thus as the Captain of our sal-
vation ; that we follow him in suffering, and
in doing, seeing both were so for us. It is
strange how some armies have addicted
themselves to their head, so as to be at his
call night and day, in summer and winter, to
refuse no travail or endurance of hardship for
him, and all only to please him, and serve
his inclination and ambition ; as Caesar's
trained bands, especially the veterans, it is
a wonder what they endured in counter-
marches, and in traversing from one coun-
try to another. But besides that our Lord
and Leader is so great and excellent, and so
well deserves following for his own worth,
this lays upon us an obligation beyond all
conceiving, that he first suffered for us, that
he endured such hatred of man, and such
wrath of God the Father, and went through
death, so vile a death, to procure our life.
What can be too bitter to endure, or too
sweet to forsake, to follow him 2 Were this
duly considered, should we cleave to our
lusts or to our ease ? Should we not be
willing to go through fire and water, yea,
through death itself, yea, were it possible,
through many deaths, to follow him.
[2.] Consider, as this conformity is due, so
it is made easy by that his suffering for us.
Our burden which pressed us to hell, being
taken off, is not all that is left, to suffer or to
do, as nothing. Our chains which bound us
over to eternal death, being knocked off,
shall we not walk, shall we not run, in his
ways? Oh! think what that burden and
yoke was which he hath eased us of, how
heavy, how unsufferable it was, and then
we shall think, what he so truly says, that all
he lays on is sweet; his yoke easy, and his
burden light. Oh! the happy change, to be res-
cued from the vilest slavery, and called to con-
formity and fellowship with the Son of God .
2. The nature of this conformity (to show
the nearness of it), is expressed in the very
same terms as in the Pattern: it is not a re-
mote resemblance, but the same thing, even
suffering in the flesh. But that we may un-
derstand rightly what suffering is here meant,
it is plainly this ceasing from sin. So that
suffering in the flesh, here, is not simply the
enduring of afflictions, which is a part of the
Christian's conformity to his head, Christ
(Rom. viii. 29), but implies a more inward
and spiritual suffering. It is the suffering
and the dying of our corruption, the taking
away of the life of sin by the death of Christ:
that death of his sinless flesh works in the
believer the death of sinful flesh, that is, the
corruption of his nature, which is so usually
in Scripture called flesh. Sin makes man
base, drowns him in flesh and the lusts of it,
makes the very soul become gross and earth-
284
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
ly, turns it, as it were, to flesh. So, the
apostle calls the very mind that is unre-
newed, a carnal mind. Rom. viii. 7.
And what doth the mind of a natural man
hunt after and run out into, from one day and
year to another ? Is it not on the things of
this base world, and (corporis negotium) the
concernment of his flesh? What would he
have, but be accommodated to eat, and drink,
and dress, and live at ease ? He minds earthly
things, savors and relishes them, and cares
for them. Examine the most of your pains
and time, and your strongest desires, and
most serious thoughts, whether they go not
this way, to raise yourselves and yours in
your worldly condition. Yea, the highest
projects of the greatest natural spirits, are but
earth still, in respect of things truly spiritual.
All their state designs go not beyond this
poor life that perishes in the flesh, and is
daily, perishing even while we are busiests
in upholding it and providing for it. Present
things and this lodge of clay, this flesh and
its interest, take up most of our time and
pains: the most 2 yea, all, till that change
be wrought which the apostle speaks of, till
Christ be put on : Rom. xiii. 14. Put ye on
the Lord Jesus Christ, and then, the other
will easily follow, which follows in the
words, Make no provision for the flesh, to
fulfil the lusts thereof. Once in Christ, and
then your necessary general care for this
natural life will be regulated and moderated
by the Spirit. And as for all unlawful and
enormous desires of the flesh, you shall be
rid of providing for these. Instead of all pro-
vision for the life of the flesh in that sense,
there is another guest, and another life, for
you now to wait on and furnish for. In them
who are in Christ, that flesh is dead; they
are freed from its drudgery. He that hath
suffered in the flesh, hath rested from sin.
Ceased from sin.] He is at rest from it,
a godly death, as they who die in the Lord,
rest from their labors. Rev. xiv. 13. He that
hath suffered in the flesh and is dead to it,
dies indeed in the Lord, rests from the base
turmoil of sin; it is no longer his master. As
our sin was the cause of Christ's death, his
death is the death of sin in us; and that, not
simply as he bore a moral pattern of it, but
as the real working cause of it, it hath an
effectual influence on the soul, kills it to sin.
I am crucified with . Christ, says St. Paul.
Gal. ii. 20. Faith so looks on the death of
Christ, that it takes the impression of it, sets
it on the heart, kills it unto sin. Christ and
the believer do not only become one in law,
so that his death stands for theirs, but one in
nature, so that his death for sin causes theirs
to it. They are baptized into his death.
Rom. vi. 3.
This suffering in the flesh being unto death,
and such a death (crucifying), hath indeed
pain in it; but what then 2 It must be so
like his, and the believer be like him, in wil-
lingly enduring it. All the pain of his suffer-
ing in the flesh, his love to us digested and
went through with ; so, all the pam to our
nature in severing and pulling us from our
beloved sins, and in our dying to them, if
his love be planted in our hearts, that will
sweeten it, and make us delight in it. Love
desires nothing more than likeness, and
shares willingly in all with the party loved;
and above all love, this Divine love is purest
and highest, and works most strongly that
way ; takes pleasure in that pain, and is a
voluntary death, as Plato calls love. It is
strong as death, says Solomon, Cant. viii. 6.
As death makes the strongest body fall to the
ground, so doth the love of Christ make the
most active and lively sinner dead to his sin;
and as death severs a man from his dearest
and most familiar friends, thus doth the love
of Christ, and his death flowing from it, sever
the heart from its most beloved sins.
I beseech you, seek to have your hearts
set against sin, to hate it, to wound it, and be
dying daily to it. Be not satisfied, unless
ye feel an abatement of it, and a life within
you. Disdain that base service, and being
bought at so high a rate, think yourselves too
good to be slaves to any base lust. You are
called to a more excellent and more honora-
ble service. And of this suffering in the
flesh, we may safely say, what the apostle
speaks of the sufferings with and for Christ
(Rom. viii. 17), that the partakers of these
sufferings are co-heirs of glory with Christ:
If we suffer thus with him, we shall also be
glorified with him ; if we die with him, we
shall live with him for ever.
3. We have the actual improvement of
this conformity: Arm yourselves with the
same mind, or thoughts of this mortification.
Death, taken naturally, in its proper sense,
being an entire privation of life, admits not
of degrees; but this figurative death, this
mortification of the flesh in a Christian, is
gradual. In so far as he is renewed, and is
animated and acted on by the Spirit of Christ,
he is thoroughly mortified (for this death,
and that new life joined with it, and here
added, ver. 2, go together and grow togeth-
er); but because he is not totally renewed,
and there is in him the remains of that cor-
ruption still, which is here called flesh, there-
fore it is his great task, to be gaining further
upon it, and overcoming and mortifying it
every day. And to this tend the frequent ex-
hortations of this nature: Mortify your mem-
bers that are on the earth. So Rom. vi.,
Likewise reckon yourselves dead to sin, and
Let it not reign in your mortal bodies. Thus
here, Arm yourselves with the same mind, or
with this very, thought. . Consider and ap-
ply that suffering of Christ in the flesh, to
the end that you with him suffering in the
flesh, may cease from sin. Think that it
ought to be thus, and seek that it may be
thus, with you. ſº &
Arm yourselves.] There is still fighting,
and sin will be molesting you ; though
WER. 2, 3.]
285
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
wounded to death, yet will it struggle for life,
and seek to wound its enemy; it will assault
the graces that are in you. Do not think, if
it be once struck, and you have given it a
stab near to the heart, by the sword of the
Spirit, that therefore it will stir no more.
o, so long as you live in the flesh, in these
bowels there will be remainders of the life
of this flesh, your natural corruption; there-
fore you must be armed against it. Sin will
not give you rest, so long as there is a drop
of blood in its veins, one spark of life in it:
and that will be so long as you have life here.
This old man is stout, and will fight himself
to death ; and at the weakest it will rouse
up itself, and exert its dying spirits, as men
will do sometimes more eagerly than when
they were not so weak, nor so near death.
This the children of God often find to their
grief, that corruptions which they thought
had. been cold dead, stir and rise up again,
and set upon them. A passion or lust, that
after some great stroke lay a long while as
dead, stirred not, and therefore they thought
to have heard no more of it, though it shall
never recover fully again, to be lively as be-
fore, yet will revive in such a measure as to
molest, and possibly to foil them yet again.
Therefore is it continually necessary that
they live in arms, and put them not off to
their dying day; till they put off the body,
and be altogether free of the flesh. You may
take the Lord's promise for victory in the
end ; that shall not fail ; but do not promise
yourself ease in the way, for that will not
hold. If at some times you be undermost,
give not all for lost: he hath often won the
day, who hath been foiled and wounded in
the fight. But likewise take not all for won,
so as to have no more conflict, when some-
times you have the better, as in particular
battles. Be not desperate when you lose, nor
secure when you gain them : when it is
worse with you, do not throw away your arms,
nor lay them away when you are at best.
Now, the way to be armed is this, the same
mind: How would my Lord, Christ, carry
himself in this case ? And what was his busi-
ness in all places and companies? Was it
not to do the will, and advance the glory of
his Father ? If I be injured and reviled, con-
sider how would he do in this? Would he
repay one injury with another, one reproach
with another reproach 2 No, being reviled,
he reviled not again. Well, through his
strength, this shall be my way too. Thus
ought it to be with the Christian, framing all
his ways, and words, and very thoughts, upon
that model, the mind of Christ, and studying
In all things to walk even as he walked;
studying it much, as the reason and rule of
mortification, and drawing from it, as the
real cause and spring of mortification.
The pious contemplation of his death will
most powerfully kill the love of sin in the
soul, and kindle an ardent hatred of it. The
believer, looking on his Jesus as crucified for
him and wounded for his transgression, and
taking in deep thoughts of his spotless inno-
cency, which deserved no such thing, and of
his matchless love, which yet endured it all
for him, will then naturally think, shall I be
a friend to that which was his deadly enemy 2
Shall sin be sweet to me, which was so bitter
to him, and that for my sake? Shall I ever
lend it a good look, or entertain a favorable
thought .#that which shed my Lord's blood ;
Shall I live in that for which he died, and
died to kill it in me. Oh let it not be.
To the end it may not be, let such really
apply that death, to work this on the soul;
(for this is always to be added, and is the
main thing indeed); by holding and fastening
that death close to the soul, effectually to kill
the effects of sin in it; to stifle and crush them
dead, by pressing that death on the heart;
looking on it, not only as a most complete
model, but as having a most effectual virtue
for this effect; and desiring him, entreating
our Lord himself, who communicates himself
and the virtue of his death to the believer,
that he would powerfully cause it to flow in
upon us, and let us feel the virtue of it.
It is, then, the only thriving and growing
life, to be much in the lively contemplation
and application of Jesus Christ ; to be con-
tinually studying him, and conversing with
him, and drawing from him, receiving of his
fulness, grace for grace. John i. 16. Woºldst
thou have much power against sin, and much
increase of holiness, let thine eye be much on
Christ; set thine heart on him; let it dwell
in him, and be still with him. When sin is
likely to prevail in any kind, go to him, tell
him of the insurrection of his enemies, and
thy inability to resist, and desire him to sup-
press them, and to help thee against them,
that they may gain nothing by their stirring,
but some new wound. If thy heart begin to
be taken with, and move toward sin, lay it
before him ; the beams of his love shall eat
out that fire of those sinful lusts. Wouldst
thou have thy pride, and passions, and love of
the world, and self-love, killed, go sue for the
virtue of his death, and that shall do it. Seek
his Spirit, the Spirit of meekness, and humili-
ty, and divine love. Look on him, and he
shall draw thy heart heavenward, and unite
it to himself, and make it like himself. And
is not that the thing thou desirest ?
VER. 2. That he no longer should live the rest of his
time in the flesh to the lusts of men, but to the
will of God.
VER. 3. For the time past of our life may suffice us to
have wrought the will of the Gentiles, when we
walked in lasciviousness, lusts, excess of wine, re-
vellings, banquetings, and abominable idolatries.
THE chains of sin are so strong, and so fas-
tened on our nature, that there is in us no pow-
er to break them off, till a mightier and strong-
er Spirit than our own come into us. The
Spirit of Christ dropped into the soul, makes
it able to break through a troop, and leap over
a wall, as David speaks of himself, when fur-
286
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
nished with the strength of his God. Psalm
XViii. 29. Men's resolutions fall to nothing;
and as a prisoner who attempts to escape, and
does not, is bound faster, thus usually it is
with men in their self-purposes of forsaking
sin: they leave out Christ in the work, and
So remain in their captivity, yea, it grows
upon them. And while we press them to
free themselves, and show not Christ to them,
We put them upon an impossibility. But a
look to him makes it feasible and easy. Faith
in him, and that love to him which faith
begets, break through and surmount all dif-
ficulties. It is the powerful love of Christ,
that kills the love of sin, and kindles the love
of holiness in the soul; makes it a willing
sharer in his death, and so a happy partaker
of his life. For that always follows, and
must of necessity, as here is added: he that
hath suffered in the flesh, hath ceased from
sin, His crucified and dead to it; but he loses
nothing; yea, it is his great gain, to lose that
deadly life of the flesh for a new spiritual life,
a life indeed living unto God; that is the
end why he so dies, that he may thus live—
That he no longer should live to the lusts of
men, and yet live far better, live to the will of
God. He that is one with Christ by believing,
is one with him throughout, in death and in
life. As Christ rose from the dead, so he
that is dead to sin with him, through the
power of his death, rises to that new life with
him, through the power of his resurrection.
And these two constitute our sanctification,
which whosoever do partake of Christ, and
are found in him, do certainly draw from him.
Thus are they joined, Rom. vi. 11: Likewise
reckon you yourselves dead indeed to sin, but
alive to God, and both, through Christ Jesus
our Lord.
All they who do really come to Jesus Christ,
as they come to him as their Savior to be
clothed with him, and made righteous by him,
so they come likewise to him as their Sanc-
tifier, to be made new and holy by him, to
die and live with him, to follow the Lamb
wheresoever he goes, through the hardest suf-
ferings, and death itself. And this spiritual
suffering and dying with him, is the universal
Way of all his followers; they are all martyrs
thus in the crucifying of sinful flesh, and so
dying for him, and with him. And they may
Weſl go cheerfully through. Though it bear
the unpleasant name of death, yet, as the
other death is (which makes it so little terri-
ble, yea, often to appear so very desirable to
them), so is this, the way to a far more ex-
cellent and happy life; so that they may pass
through it gladly, both for the company and
the end of it. It is with Christ they go into
his death, as unto life in his life. Though a
believer might be free from these terms, he
would not. No, Surely. Could he be content
with that easy life of sin, instead of the Divine
life of Christ? No, he will do thus, and not
accept of deliverance, that he may obtain (as
the apostles speaks of the martyrs) a better
resurrection. Heb. xi. 35. Think on it again,
ou to whom your sins are dear still, and this
ife sweet; you are yet far from Christ and
his life.
The apostle, with the intent to press this
more home, expresses more at large the na-
ture of the opposite estates and lives that he
speaks of, and so, 1. Sets before his Christian
brethren the dignity of that new life; and
then, 2. By a particular reflection upon the for-
mer life, he presses the change. The former
life he calls a living to the lusts of men ; this
new spiritual life, a living to the will of God.
The ſusts of men.] Such as are common to
the corrupt nature of man ; such as every man.
may find in himself, and perceive in others.
The apostle, in the third verse more particular-
ly, for further clearness, specifies those kinds
of men that were most notorious in these lusts,
and those kinds of lusts that were most notori-
ous in men. Writing to the dispersed Jews,
he calls sinful lusts the will of the Gentiles, as
having least control of contrary light in them
(and yet, the Jews walked in the same, though
they had the law as a light and rule for avoid-
ing of them); and implies, that these lusts
were unbeseeming even their former condi-
tion as Jews, but much more unsuitable to
them, as now Christians. Some of the gros-
sest of these lusts he names, meaning all the
rest, all the ways of sin, and so representing
their vileness in the more lively manner.
Not, as some take it, when they hear of such
heinous sins, as if it were to lessen the evil
of sins of a more civil nature by the compari-
son, or as if freedom from these were a blame-
less condition, and a change of it needless ;
no, the Holy Ghost means it just contrary,
that we may judge of all sin, and of our sin-
ful nature, by our estimate of those sins that
are most discernible and abominable. All sin,
though not equal in degree, yet is of one na-
ture, and originally springs from one root,
arising from the same unholy nature of man,
and contrary to the same holy nature and will
of God.
So then, 1. Those who walk in these high-
ways of impiety, and yet will have the name
of Christians, they are the shame of Chris-
tians, and the professed enemies of Jesus
Christ, and of all others the most hateful to
him : they seem to have taken on his name,
for no other end than to shame and disgrace
it. But he will vindicate himself, and the
blot shall fall upon these impudent persons,
who dare hold up their faces in the church of
God as parts of it, and are indeed nothing but
the dishonor of it; spots and blots ; who dare
profess to worship God as his people, and re-
main unclean, riotous, and profane persons.
How suits thy sitting here before the Lord,
and thy sitting with vile ungodly company on
the ale-bench 7 How agrees the word, sounds
it well, There goes a drunken Christian, an
unclean, a basely covetous, or earthly-minded,
Christian. And the naming of the latter is
not besides the text, but agreeable to the very
WER. 2, 3.]
287
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
words of it; for the apostle warrants us to take
it under the name of idolatry, and in that name
he reckons it to be mortified by a Christian:
Col. iii. 5. Mortify therefore your mémbers
which are upon the earth, fornication, unclean-
ness, inordinale affection, evil concupiscence,
and covetousness, which is IDOLATRY.
2. But yet, men who are someway exempt-
ed from the blot of these foul impieties, may
still remain slaves to sin, alive to it, and dead
to God, living to the lusts of men, and not to the
will of God, pleasing others and themselves,
and displeasing him. And the smoothest,
best bred, and most moralized natural man,
is in this base thraldom ; and he is the more
miserable, in that he dreams of liberty in the
midst of his chains, thinks himself clean by
looking on those that wallow in gross pro-
faneness; takes measure of himself by the
most crooked lives of ungodly men about him,
and so thinks himself very straight; but lays
not the straight rule of the will of God to his
ways and heart, which if he did, he would
then discover much crookedness in his ways,
and much more in his heart, that now he sees
not, but takes it to be square and even.
Therefore I advise and desire you to look
more narrowly to yourselves in this, and see
whether you be not still living to your own
lusts and wills instead of to God, seeking, in
all your ways, to advance and please your-
selves, and not him. Is not the bent of your
hearts set that way ? Do not your whole
desires and endeavors run in that channel,
how you and yours may be somebody, how
you may have wherewithal to serve the flesh,
and to be accounted of and respected among
men 2 And if we trace it home, all a man’s
honoring and pleasing of others tends to, and
ends in, pleasing of himself: it resolves into
that. And is it not so meant by him 2 He
pleases men, either that he may gain by them,
or be respected by them, or that something
that is still pleasing to himself may be the
return of it. So, self is the grand idol, for
which all other heart-idolatries are commit-
ted; and, indeed, in the unrenewed heart
there is no scarcity of them. Oh! what mul-
titudes, what heaps, if the wall were digged
through, and the light of God going before us,
and leading us in to see them The natural
motion and way of the natural heart, is no
other than still seeking out new inventions,
a forge of new gods, still either forming them
to itself, or worshipping those it hath already
framed; committing spiritual fornication from
God, with the creature, and multiplying lovers
everywhere, as it is tempted ; as the Lord
complains of his people, upon every high hill,
and under every green tree. Jer. ii.20; iii. 6.
You will not believe so much ill of your-
selves, will not be convinced of this unpleasant
but necessary truth ; and this is a part of our
self-pleasing, that we please ourselves in this,
that we will not see it, either in our callings
and ordinary ways, or in our religious exer-
cises. For even in these, we naturally aim
at nothing but ourselves; either our reputa-
tion, or, at best, our own safety and peace;
either to stop the cry of conscience for the
present, or to escape the wrath that is to
come ; but not in a spiritual regard of the
will of God, and out of pure love to himself
for himself; yet, thus it should be, and that
love, the divine fire in all our sacrifices. The
carnal mind is in the dark, and sees not its
vileness in living to itself, will not confess it
to be so. But when God comes into the soul,
he lets it see itself, and all its idols and idola-
tries, and forces it to abhor and loathe itself
for all its abominations: and having discover-
ed its filthiness to itself, then he purges and
cleanses it for himself, from all its filthiness,
and from all its idols (Ezek. xxxvi. 25), ac-
cording to his promise, and comes in and takes
possession of it for himself, enthrones him-
self in the heart. And it is never right nor
happy till, that be done.
But to the will of God.] We readily take
any little slight change for true conversion,
but we may see here that we mistake it : it
doth not barely knock off some obvious ap-
parent enormities, but casts all in a new
mould, alters the whole frame of the heart
and life, kills a man, and makes him alive
again. And this new life is contrary to the
old ; for the change is made with that intent,
that he live no longer to the lusts º but
to the will of God. He is now, indeed a new
creature, having a new judgment and new
thoughts of things, and so, accordingly, new
desires and affections, and answerably to
these, new actions. Old things are past away
and dead, and all things are become new.
2 Cor. V. 17.
Political men have observed, that in states,
if alterations must be, it is better to alter
many things than a few. And physicians
have the same remark for one’s habit and
custom for bodily health, upon the same
ground; because things do so relate one to
another, that except they be adapted and
suited together in the change, it avails not;
yea, it sometimes proves the worse in the
whole, though a few things, in particular
seem to be bettered. Thus, half-reformations
in a Christian turn to his prejudice; it is only
best to be reformed throughout, and to give
up with all idols; not to live one half to him-
self and the world, and, as it were, another
half to God, for that is but falsely so, and, in
reality, can not be. .The only way is, to
make a heap of all, to have all sacrificed to-
gether, and to live to no lust, but altogether
and only to God. Thus it must be: there is
no monster in the new creation, no half new
creature—either all, or not at all, 6X0; # pil 6Aws.
We have to deal with the Maker and the
Searcher of the heart in this turn, and he will
have nothing unless he have the heart, and
none of that neither, unless he have it all.
If thou pass over into his kingdom, and be-
come his subject, thou must have him for thy
only sovereign. Omnisque potestas impatiens
288
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
consortis: Royalty can admit of no rivalry,
and least of all, the highest and best of all.
If Christ be thy king, then his laws and
Sceptre must rule all in thee; thou must now
acknowledge no foreign power; that will be
treaSOn.
And if he be thy husband, thou must re-
nounce all others. Wilt thou provoke him
to jealousy 2 Yea, beware how thou givest a
thought or a look of thy affection any other
way, for he will spy it, and will not endure it.
The title of a husband is as strict and tender,
as the other of a king.
It is only best to be thus: it is thy great ad-
vantage and happiness, to be thus entirely
freed from so many tyrannous base lords, and
to be now subject to only one, and he so great,
and withal so gracious and sweet a king, the.
Prince of Peace. Thou wast hurried before,
and racked with the very multitude of them.
Thy lusts, so many cruel task-masters over
thee, they gave thee no rest, and the work
they set thee to was base and slavish, more
than the burdens, and pots, and toiling in the
clay of Egypt; thou wast held to work in the
earth, to pain, and to soil and foul thyself
with their drudgery.
Now thou hast but One to serve, and that
is a great ease; and it is no slavery, but true
honor, to serve so excellent a Lord, and in so
high services; for he puts thee upon nothing
but what is neat and what is honorable. Thou
art as a vessel of honor in his house, for his
best employments. Now thou art not in pain
how to please this person and the other, nor
needest thouvex thyself to gain men, to study
their approbation and honor, nor to keep to
thine own lusts and observe their will. Thou
hast none but thy God to please in all ; and
if he be pleased, thou mayest disregard who
be displeased. His will is not fickle and
changing as men's are, and as thine own is.
He hath told thee what he likes and desires,
and he alters not ; so that now, thou knowest
whom thou hast to do withal, and what to do,
whom to please, and what will please him,
and this can not but much settle thy mind,
and put thee at ease. Thou mayest say,
heartily, as rejoicing in the change of so
many for one, and of such for such a One, as
the church says, Isa. xxvi. 13: O Lord our
God, other lords beside thee have had domin-
ion over me, but now, by thee only will I make
mention of thy name ; now, none but thyself,
not so much as the name of them any more,
away, with them : through thy grace, thou
only shalt be my God. It can not endure that
anything be named with thee.
Now, 1. That it may be thus, that we may
wholly live to the will of God, we must know
his will, what it is. Persons grossly ignorant
of God, and of his will, can not live to him.
We can not have fellowship with him, and
walk in darkness; for HE is !ight, 1 John i. 6,
7. This takes off a great many among us,
who have not so much as a common notion
of the will of God. But, besides, that knowl-
edge which is a part, and (I may say) the
first part, of the renewed image of God, is not
a natural knowledge of spiritual things, mere-
ly attained by human teaching or industry,
but it is a beam of God's own, issuing from
himself, both enlightening and enlivening the
whole soul : it gains the affection and stirs to
action, and so, indeed, it acts, and increases
by acting ; for the more we walk according to
what we know of the will of God, the more
we shall be advanced to know more. This
is the real proving what is his good, and holy,
and acceptable will. Romans xii. 2. So says
Christ, If any one will do the will of my Fa-
ther, he shall know of the doctrine. John vii.
17. Our lying off from the lively use of
known truth, keeps us low in the knowledge
of God and communion with him.
2. So, then, upon that knowledge of God's
will, where it is spiritual and from himself,
follows the suiting of the heart with it, the
affections taking the stamp of it, and agreeing
with it, receiving the truth in the love of it,
so that the heart may be transformed into it;
and now it is not driven to obedience violent-
ly, but sweetly moving to it, by love within
the heart, framed to the love of God, and so
of his will.
3. As Divine knowledge begets this affec-
tion, so this affection will bring forth action,
real obedience. For these three are insepa-
rably linked, and each dependant on, and the
product of, the others. The affection is not
blind, but flowing from knowledge; nor the
actual obedience constrained, but flowing from
affection; and the affection is not idle, seeing
it brings forth obedience; nor is the knowl-
edge dead, seeing it begets affection.
Thus the renewed, the living Christian, is
all for God, a sacrifice entirely offered up to
God, and a living sacrifice, which lives to
God. He takes no more notice of his own
carnal will ; hath renounced that to embrace
the holy will of God; and therefore, though
there is a contrary law and will in him, yet
he does not acknowledge it, but only the law
of Christ, as now established in him ; that
law of love, by which he is sweetly and wil-
lingly led. Real obedience consults not now
with flesh and blood, what will please them,
but only inquires what will please his God,
and knowing his mind, thus resolves to demur
no more, nor to ask consent of any other ; that
he will do, and it is reason enough to him:
“My Lord wills it, therefore, in his strength,
I will do it; for now I live to his will, it is
my life to study and obey it.”
Now, we know what is the true character
of the redeemed of Christ, that they are freed
from the service of themselves and of the
world, yea, dead to it, and have no life but for
God, as altogether his.
Let it, then, be our study and ambition to
attain this, and to grow in it; to be daily fur-
ther freed from all other ways and desires,
and more wholly addicted to the will of our
God; displeased when we find anything else
WER. 2, 3.]
289
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
stir or move within us but that, making that
the spring of our notion in every work.
1. Because we know that his sovereign will
is (and is most justly) the glory of his name,
therefore we are not to rest till this be set up
in our view, as our end in all things, and we
are to account all our plausible doings as hate-
ful (as indeed they are), which are not aimed
at this end ; yea, endeavoring to have it as
frequently and as expressly before us as we
can, still keeping our eye on the mark;
throwing away, yea, undoing our own inter-
est, not seeking ourselves in anything, but
him in all.
2. As living to his will is in all things to be
our end, so, in all the way to that end, it is to
be the rule of every step. For we can not
attain his end but in his way; nor can we at-
tain it without a resignation of the way to his
prescription, taking all our directions from
him, how we shall honor him in all. The
soul that lives to him, hath enough to make
anything not only warrantable but amiable in
seeking his will ; and he not only does it, but
delights to do it. This is to live to him, to find
it our life; as we speak of a work wherein
men do most, and with most delight employ
themselves. That such a lust be crucified,
is it thy will, Lord 2 Then, no more advising,
no more delay. How dear soever that was
when I lived to it, it is now as hateful, seeing
I live to thee who hatest it. Wilt thou have
me forget an injury, though a great one, and
love the person that hath wronged me? While
I lived to myself and my passions, this had
been hard. But now, how sweet is it ! seeing
I live to thee, and am glad to be put upon
things most opposite to my corrupt heart;
glad to trample upon my own will, to follow
thine. And this I daily aspire to and aim at,
to have no will of my own, but that thine be
in me, that I may live to thee, as one with
thee, and thou my rule and delight, yea, not
to use the very natural comforts of my life,
but for thee; to eat, and drink, and sleep for
thee; and not to please myself, but to be ena-
bled to serve and please thee; to make one
offering of myself and all my actions to thee,
my Lord.
Oh! it is the only sweet life, to be living
thus, and daily learning to live more fully
thus ! It is heaven this, a little scantling of
it here, and a pledge of whole heaven. This
is indeed the life of Christ, not only like his,
but one with his ; it is his spirit, his life de-
rived into the soul, and therefore both the
most excellent, and certainly the most per-
manent life, for He dieth no more, and there-
fore this his life can not be extinguished.
Hence is the perseverance of the saints; be-
cause they have one life with Christ, and so
are alive unto God, once for all, for ever.
It is true, the former custom of sin would
plead with grace old possession; and this the
apostle implies here, that because formerly
we lived to our lusts, they will urge that ; but
he teaches us to beat it directly back on them,
and turn the edge of it as a most strong rea-
son against them: “True, you had so long
time of us, the more is our sorrow and shame,
and the more reason that it be no longer so.
The rest of his time in the flesh (that is, in
this body) is not to be spent as the foregoing,
tn living to the flesh, that is, the corrupt lusts
of it, and the common ways of the world; but,
as often as the Christian looks back on that,
he is to find it as a spur in his side, to be the
more earnest, and more wholly busied in liv-
ing much to God, having lived so long con-
trary to him, in living to the flesh. . The past
may suffice. There is a rhetorical figure (a
lyptote) in that expression, meaning much
more than the words express: “It is enough
—oh too much, to have lived so long so mis-
erable a life.”
“Now,” says the Christian, “O corrupt lusts
and deluding world, look for no more: I have
served you too long. The rest, whatsoever it is,
must be to the Lord, to live to him by whom I
live; and ashamed and grieved I am I was so
long in beginning ; so much past, it may be
the most of my short race past, before I took
notice of God, or looked toward him. Oh
how have I lost, and worse than lost, all my
by-past days Now, had I the advantage and
abilities of many men, and were I to live many
ages, all should be to live to my God, and
honor him. And what strength I have, and
what time I shall have, through his grace,
shall be wholly his.” And when any Chris-
tian hath thus resolved, his intended life be-
ing so imperfect, and the time so short, the
poorness of the offer would break his heart,
were there not an eternity before him, where-
in he shall live to his God, and in him, with-
out blemish and without end.
Spiritual things being once discerned by a
spiritual light, the whole soul is carried after
them ; and the ways of holiness are never
truly sweet, till they be thoroughly embraced,
and till there be a full renunciation of all that
is contrary to them. All his former ways of
wandering from God, are very hateful to a
Christian who is indeed returned and brought
home; and those are most of all hateful,
wherein he hath most wandered and most
delighted. A sight of Christ gains the heart,
makes it break from all entanglements, both
of its own lusts, and of the profane world
about it. And these are the two things the
apostle here aims at. Exhorting Christians
to the study of newness of life, and showing
the necessity of it, that they can not be Chris-
tians without it, he opposes their new estate
and engagement, to the old customs of their
former condition, and to the continuing cus-
tom and conceit of the ungodly world, that
against both they may maintain that rank and
dignity to which now they are called, and, in
a holy disdain of both, walk as the redeemed
of the Lord. Their own former custom he
speaks to in these verses, and to the custom
and opinion of the world, in those which fol-
low. Both of these will set strong upon a.
37
290
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
man, especially while he is yet weak, and
newly entered into that new estate.
Now, as to the first, his old acquaintance,
his wonted lusts, will not fail to bestir them-
selves to accost him in their most obliging,
familiar way, and represent their long-con-
tinued friendship. But the Christian, follow-
ing the principles of his new being, will not
entertain any long discourse with them, but
cut them short, tell them that the change he
hath made he avows, and finds it so happy,
that these former delights may put off hopes
of regaining him. No, they dress themselves
in their best array, and put on all their orna-
ments, and say, as that known word of the
courtesan, I am the same I was ; the Christian
will answer as he did, I am not the same I
was. And not only thus will he turn off the
plea of former acquaintance that sin makes,
but turn it back upon it, as in his present
thoughts, making much against it. “The
longer I was so deluded, the more reason now
that I be wiser; the more time so mispent,
the more pressing necessity of redeeming it.
Oh I have too long lived in that vile slave-
ry. All was but husks I fed on. I was lay-
ing out my money for that which was no
bread, and my labor for that which satisfied
not. Isa. lv. 2. Now, I am on the pursuit of
a good that I am sure will satisfy, will fill the
largest desires of my soul : and shall I be
sparing and slack, or shall anything call me
off from it 3 Let it not be. I who took so
much pains, early and late, to serve and sac-
rifice to so base a god, shall I not now live
more to my new Lord, the living God, and
sacrifice my time and strength, and my whole
self, to him 2’’
And this is still the regret of the sensible
Christian, that he can not attain to that un-
wearied diligence and that strong bent of af.
fection, in seeking communion with God, and
living to him, which once he had for the ser-
vice of sin: he wonders that it should be
thus with him, not to equal that which it
were so reasonable that he should so far ex-
ceed.
It is, beyond expression, a thing to be la-
mented, that so small a number of men re-
gard God, the author of their being, that so
few live to him in whom they live, returning
that being and life they have, and all their
enjoyments, as is due, to him from whom
they all flow. And then, how pitiful is it,
that the small number who are thus minded,
mind it so remissly and coldly, and are so far
outstripped by the children of this world, who
follow painted follies and lies with more ea-
gerness and industry than the children of
wisdom do that certain and solid blessedness
which they seek after ? Plus illi ad vanita-
tem, quam nos ad verstatem: They are more
intent upon vanity, than we upon verity.
Strangeſ that men should do so much vio-
lency one to another, and to themselves in
body and mind, for trifles and chaff; and
that there is so little to be found of that al-
lowed and commanded violence, for a king-
dom, and such a kingdom, that can not be
moved (Heb. xii. 28); a word too high for all
the monarchies under the sun.
And should not our diligence and violence
in this so worthy a design, be so much the
greater, the later we begin to pursue it?
They tell it of Caesar, that when he passed
into Spain, meeting there with Alexander's
statue, it occasioned him to weep, consider-
ing that he was up so much more early, hav-
ing performed so many conquests in those
years, wherein he thought he himself had
done nothing, and was yet but beginning.
Truly, it will be a sad thought to a really re-
newed mind, to look back on the flower of
youth and strength as lost in vanity; if not
in gross profaneness, yet, in self-serving and
self-pleasing, and in ignorance and neglect
of God. . And perceiving their few years so
far spent ere they set out, they will account
days precious, and make the more haste, and
desire, with holy David, enlarged hearts to
fun the way of God's commandments. Psalm
cxix. 32. They will study to live much in a
little time; and, having lived all the past
time to no purpose, will be sensible they
have none now to spare upon the lusts and
ways of the flesh, and vain societies and vis-
its. Yea, they will be redeeming all they
can, even from their necessary affairs, for
that which is more necessary than all other
necessities, that one thing needful, to learn
the will of our God, and live to it; this is our
business, our high calling, the main and most
excellent of all our employments.
Not that we are to cast off our particular
callings, or omit due diligence in them ; for
that will prove a snare, and involve a person
in things more opposite to godliness. But
certainly, this living to God requires, 1. A fit
measuring of thy own ability for affairs, and,
as far as thou canst choose, fitting thy load to
thy shoulders, not surcharging thyself with
it. An excessive burden of businesses, either
by the greatness or the multitude of them,
will not fail to entangle thee, and depress thy
mind, and will hold it so down, that thou
shalt not find it possible to walk upright and
look upward, with that freedom and frequen-
cy that become heirs of heaven.
2. The measure of thy affairs being adapt-
ed, look to thy affection in them, that it be
regulated too. Thy heart may be engaged
in thy little business as much, if thou watch
it not, as in many and great affairs. A man
may drown in a little brook or pool, as well
as in a great river, if he be down and plunge
himself into it, and put his head under wa-
ter. Some care thou must have, that thou
mayest not care. Those things that are
thorns indeed, thou must make a hedge of
them, to keep out those temptations that ac-
company sloth, and extreme want that wants
on it; but let them be the hedge: suffer
them not to grow within the garden. If
riches increase, set not thy heart on them, nor
WER. 2, 3.]
29]
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
set them in thy heart. That place is due to
another, is made to be the garden of thy be-
loved Lord, made for the best plants and
flowers, and there they ought to grow, the
love of God, and faith, and meekness, and
the other fragrant graces of the Spirit. And
know, that this is no common nor easy mat-
ter, to keep the heart disengaged in the midst
of affairs, that still it be reserved for him
whose right it is.
3. Not only labor to keep thy mind spirit-
ual in itself, but by it put a spiritual stamp
even upon thy temporal employments; and
so thou shalt live to God, not only without
prejudice of thy calling, but even in it, and
shalt converse with him in thy shop, or in
the field, or in thy journey, doing all in obe-
dience to him, and offering all, and thyself
withal, as a sacrifice to him ; thou still with
him, and he still with thee, in all. This is
to live to the will of God indeed, to follow his
direction, and intend his glory in all. Thus
the wife. in the very oversight of her house,
and the husband in his affairs abroad, may be
living to God, raising their low employments
to a high quality this way: Lord, even this
mean work I do for thee, complying with thy
will, who hast put me in this station, and
given me this task. Thiſ will be done. Lord,
I offer up even this work to thee. Accept of
me, and of my desire to obey thee in all. And
as in their work, so, in their refreshments
and rest, Christians do all for him. Whether
ye eat or drink, says the apostle (1 Cor. x.
31), or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory
of God ; doing all for this reason, because it
is his will, and for this end, that he may have
glory; bending the use of all our strength
and all his mercies that way ; setting this
mark on all our designs and ways, This for
the glory of my God, and, This further for
his glory, and so from one thing to another
throughout our whole life. This is the art
of keeping the heart spiritual in all affairs,
yea, of spiritualizing the affairs themselves in
their use, that in themselves are earthly.
This is the elirir that turns lower metal into
gold, the mean actions of this life, in a Chris-
tian's hands, into obedience and holy offer-
ings unto God.
And were we acquainted with the way of
intermixing holy thoughts, ejaculatory ey-
ings of God, in our ordinary ways, it would
keep the heart in a sweet temper all the day
long, and have an excellent influence into all
our ordinary actions and holy performances,
at those times when we apply ourselves sol-
emnly to them. Our hearts would be near
them, not so far off to seek and call in, as usu-
ally they are through the neglect of this. This
were to walk with God indeed; to go all the
day long as in our Father's hand; whereas,
without this, our praying morning and even-
ing looks but as a formal visit, not delighting
in that constant converse which yet is our
happiness and honor, and makes all estates
sweet. This would refresh us in the hardest
labor; as they that carry the spices from Ara-
bia are refreshed with the smell of them in
their journey, and some observe, that it keeps
their strength, and frees them from faint-
1ng.
If you will then live to God indeed, be not
satisfied without the constant regard of him;
and whosoever hath attained most of it,
study it yet more, to set the Lord always be-
fore you, as David professeth, and then shall
you have that comfort that he adds, he shall
be still at your right hand, that you shall not
be moved. Psalm xvi. 8.
And you that are yet to begin this, think
what his patience is, that after you have
slighted so many calls, you may yet begin to
seek him, and live to him. And then, con-
sider, if you still despise all this goodness,
how soon it may be otherwise; you may be
past the reach of this call, and may not be-
gin, but be cut off for ever from the hopes of
it. Oh, how sad an estate and the more so,
by the remembrance of these slighted offers
and invitations! Will you then yet return ?
You that would share in Christ, let go those
lusts to which you have hitherto lived, and
embrace him, and in him there is spirit and
life for you. He shall enable you to live this
heavenly life to the will of God, His God and
gour God, and his Father and your Father.
John XX. 17. Oh delay no longer this happy
change. How soon may that puff of breath
that is in thy nostrils, who hearest this, be
extinguished ' . And art thou willing to die
in thy sins, rather than that they should die
before thee? Thinkest thou it a pain to live
to the will of God 2 Surely it will be more
pain to lie under his eternal wrath. Oh ! thou
knowest not how sweet they find it who have
tried it. Or thinkest thou, I will afterward 2
Who can make thee sure either of that after-
ward, or of that will ? If but afterward,
why not now presently, without further de-
bate 2 Hast thou not served sin long enough 2
May not the time passed in that service, suf-
fice 2 yea, is it not too much 3 Wouldst
thou only live unto God as little time as may
be, and think the dregs of thy life good
enough for him 2 What ingratitude and gross
folly is this Yea, though thou wert sure of
coming unto him and being accepted, yet, if
thou knewest him in any measure, thou
wouldst not think it a privilege to defer it,
but willingly choose to be free from the
world and thy lusts, to be immediately his,
and wouldst, with David, make haste, and not
delay to keep his righteous judgments. All
the time thou livest without him, what a
filthy, wretched life is it, if that can be called
life that is without him . To live to sin, is to
live still in a dungeon; but to live to the will
of God, is to walk in liberty, and light, to
walk by light unto light, by the beginnings
of it to the fulness of it, which is in his
presence.
292
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
VER. 4. Wherein they think it strange that ye run
not with them to the same excess of riot, speak-
ing evil of you :
VER. 5. Who shall give account to him that is ready
to judge the quick and the dead.
GRACE, until it reach its home and end in
glory, is still in conflict; there is a restless
party within and without, yea, the whole
world against it. It is a stranger here, and
is accounted and used as such. They think
it strange that you run not with them, and
they speak evil of you : these wondering
thoughts they went in reproaching words.
In these two verses we have these three
things: 1. The Christian's opposite course to
that of the world. 2. The world's opposite
thoughts and speeches of this course. 3. The
supreme and final judgment of both.
1. The opposite course, in that They run
to excesses of riot—You run not with them.
They run to excesses (ägorías) of riot or lua-
ury. Though all natural men are not, in the
grossest kind, guilty of this, yet they are all
of them in some way truly riotous or luxuri-
ous, lavishing away themselves, and their
days, upon the poor perishing delights of sin,
each according to his own palate and humor.
As all persons that are riotous, in the com-
mon sense of it, gluttons or drunkards, do
not love the same kind of meats or drink, but
have several relishes or appetites, yet they
agree in the nature of the sin; so the notion
enlarged after that same manner, to the dif-
ferent custom of corrupt nature, takes in all
the ways of sin: some are glutting in, and
continually drunk with pleasures and carnal
enjoyments; others, with the cares of this
life, which our Savior reckons with surfeit-
ing and drunkenness, as being a kind of it,
and surcharging the heart as they do: as
there he expresses it, Luke xxi. 34, Take
heed to yourselves, lest at any time your
hearts be overcharged with surfeiting and
drunkenness, and cares of this life. What-
soever it is that draws away the heart from
God, that, how plausible soever, doth de-
bauch and destroy us: we spend and undo
ourselves upon it, as the word signifies,
dooria, a making havoc of all. And the other
word, dvºxwo s, signifies profusion, and disso-
lute lavishing, a pouring out of the affections
upon vanity; they are scattered and defiled
as water spilt upon the ground, that can not
be cleansed nor gathered up again. And, in-
deed, it passes all our skill and strength, to
recover and recollect our hearts for God; he
only can do it for himself. He who made it,
can gather it, and cleanse it, and make it
anew, and unite it to himself. Oh! what a
scattered, broken, unstable thing is the car-
nal heart, till it be changed, falling in love
with every gay folly it meets withal, and run-
ning out to rest profusely upon things like its
vain self, which suit and agree with it, and
serve its lusts . It can dream and muse upon
these long enough, upon anything that feeds
the earthliness or pride of it; it can be prodi-
|
|
|
gal of hours, and let out floods of thoughts,
where a little is too much, but is bounded
and straitened where all are too little; hath
not one fixed thought in a whole day to
spare for God.
And truly, this running out of the heart is
a continual drunkenness and madness: it is
not capable of reason, and will not be stop-
ped in its current by any persuasion; it is
mad, upon its idols, as the prophet speaks,
Jer, 1.38. You may as well speak to a riv-
er in its course, and bid it stay, as speak to
an impenitent sinner in the course of his in-
iquity; and all the other means you can use,
is but as the putting of your finger to a rap-
id stream, to stay it. But there is a Hand
that can both stop and turn the most impet-
uous torrent of the heart, be it even the heart
of a king, which will least endure any other
controlment. Prov. xxi. 1.
Now, as the ungodly world naturally moves
to this profusion with a strong and swift mo-
tion, runs to it, so, it runs together to it, and
that makes the current both the stronger and
the swifter ; as a number of brooks falling
into one main channel, make a mighty
stream. And every man naturally is, in his
birth, and in the course of his life, just as a
brook, that of itself is carried to that stream
of sin which is in the world, and then falling
into it, is carried rapidly along with it. And if
every sinner, taken apart, be so incontrovert-
ible by all created power how much more
hard a task is a public reformation, the turn-
ing of a land from its course of wickedness!
All that is set to dam up their way, doth at
the best but stay, them a little, and they
swell, and rise, and run over with more noise
and violence than if they had not been stop-
ped. Thus we find outward restraints prove,
and thus the very public judgments of God on
us. They may have made a little interruption,
but, upon the abatement of them, the course
of sin, in all kinds, seems to be now more
fierce, as it were, to regain the time lost in
that constrained forbearance. So that we see
the need of much prayer to entreat his pow-
erful hand, that can turn the course of Jor-
dan, that he would work, not a temporary,
but an abiding change of the course of this
land, and cause many souls to look upon Je-
sus Christ and flow into him, as the word is
in Psalm xxxiv. 5.
This is their course, but you run not with
them. The godly are a small and weak com-
pany, and yet, run counter to the grand tor-
rent of the world, just against them. And
there is a Spirit within them, whence that
their contrary motion flows; a Spirit stron
enough to maintain it in them, against .#
the crowd and combined course of the un-
godly. Greater is he that is in you, than he
that is in the world. 1 John iv. 4. As Lot in
Sodom, his righteous soul was not carried
with them, but was vered with their ungodly
doings. There is, to a believer, the example
of Christ, to set against the example of the
WER. 4, 5.]
293
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
world,and the Spirit of Christagainst the spirit
of the world ; and these are by far the more
excellent and the stronger. Faith looking to
him, and drawing virtue from him, makes
the soul surmount all discouragements and
oppositions. So, Heb. xii. 2: Looking to
Jesus ; and that not only as an example
worthy to oppose to all the world’s exam-
ples: the saints were so, yet he more than
they all ; but further, he is the Author and
Finisher of our faith ; and so we eye him,
as having endured the cross, and despised
the shame, and as having sat down at the
right hand of the throne of God, not only
that, in doing so, we may follow him in that
way, unto that end, as our pattern, but as
our head, from whom we borrow our strength
so to follow the Author and Finisher of our
jaith. And so, I John v. 4: This is our vic-
tory, whereby we overcome the world, even
our faith.
The Spirit of God shows the believer
clearly both the baseness of the ways of sin,
and the wretched measure of their end.
That divine light discovers the fading and
false blush of the pleasures of sin, that there
is nothing under them but true deformity and
rottenness, which the deluded, gross world
does not see, but takes the first appearance
of it for true and solid beauty, and so is en-
amored with a painted strumpet. And as
ne sees the vileness of that love of sin, he
sees the final unhappiness of it, that her
ways lead to the chambers of death. Me-
thinks a believer is as one standing upon a
high tower, who sees the way wherein the
world runs, in a valley, as an unavoidable
precipice, a steep edge hanging over the bot-
tomless pit, where all that are not reclaimed,
fall over before they be aware; this they, in
their low way, perceive not, and therefore
walk and run on in the smooth pleasures and
ease of it toward their perdition ; but he
that sees the end, will not run with them.
And as he hath, by that light of the Spirit,
this clear reason for thinking on and taking
another course, so, by that Spirit, he hath a
very natural bent to a contrary motion, so
that he can not be one with them. That
Spirit moves him upward whence it came,
and makes that, in so far as he is renewed,
his natural motion. Though he hath a clog
of flesh that cleaves to him, and so breeds
him some difficulty, yet, in the strength of
that new nature, he overcomes it, and goes
on till he attain his end, where all the diffi-
culty in the way presently is over-rewarded
and forgotten. This makes amends for ev-
ery weary step, that every one of those who
walk in that way, shall appear in Zion be-
fore God. Psalm lxxxiv. 6.
2. We have their opposite thoughts and
speeches of each other. They think it strange,
speaking evil of you. The Christian and the
carnal man are most wonderful to each other.
The one wonders to see the other walk so
strictly, and deny himself to those carnal
liberties which the most take, and take for
so necessary, that they think they could not
live without them. And the Christian thinks
it strange that men should be so bewitched,
and still remain children in the vanity of
their turmoil, wearying and humoring them-
selves from morning to night, running after
stories and fancies, ever busy doing nothing;
wonders that the delights of earth and sin
can so long entertain and please men, and
persuade them to give Jesus Christ so many
refusals, to turn from their life and happi-
ness, and choose to be miserable, yea, and
take much pains to make themselves misera-
ble. He knows the depravedness and blind-
mess of nature in this, knows it by himself,
that once he was so, and therefore wonders not
so much at them as they do at him; yet, the
unreasonableness and phrensy of that course
now appear to him in so strong a light, that
he can not but wonder at these woful mis-
takes. But the ungodly wonder far more at
him, not knowing the inward cause of his
different choice and way. The believer, as
we said, is upon the hill; he is going up,
and looking back on them in the valley, sees
their way tending to, and ending in death,
and calls them to retire from it as loud as he
can ; he tells them the danger, but either
they hear not, nor understand his language,
or will not believe him : finding present ease
and delight in their way, they will not con-
sider and suspect the end of it, but they
judge him the fool who will not share with
them, and take that way where such multi-
tudes go, and with such ease, and some of
them with their train, and horses, and coach-
es, and all their pomp, while he, and a few
straggling poor creatures like him, are climb-
ing up a craggy steep hill, and will by no
means come off from that way, and partake
of theirs; not knowing, or not believing that
at the top of that hill he climbs, is that hap-
py glorious city the new Jerusalem, whereof
he is a citizen, and whither he is tending ;
not believing that he knows the end, both of
their way and of his own, and therefore
would reclaim them if he could, but will by
no means return unto them : as the Lord
commanded the prophet, Let them return unto
thee, but return not thou unto them. Jer. xv. 19.
The world thinks it strange that a Chris-
tian can spend so much time in secret prayer,
not knowing, nor being able to conceive of
the sweetness of the communion with God
which he attains in that way. Yea, while
he feels it not, how sweet it is, beyond the
world's enjoyments, to be but seeking after it,
and waiting for it ! Oh, the delight that there
is in the bitterest exercise of repentance, in
the very tears, much more in the succeeding
harvest of joy! Incontinentes veræ volupta-
tis ignari, says Aristotle: The intemperate
are strangers to true pleasure. It is strange
unto a carnal man, to see the child of God
disdain the pleasures of sin; he knows not the
higher and purer delights and pleasures that
294
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
the Christian is called to, and of which he
hath, it may be, some part at present, but,
however, the fulness of them in assured hope.
The strangeness of the world's way to the
Christian, and of his to it, though that is
somewhat unnatural, yet affects them very
differently. He looks on the deluded sinner
with pity, they on him with hate. Their
part, which is here expressed, of wondering,
breaks out in reviling: They speak evil of you ;
and what is their voice? “What mean these
precise fools?” will they readily say. “What
course is this they take, contrary to all the
world 2 Will they make a new religion, and
condemn all their homest, civil neighbors that
are not like them 2 Ay, forsooth, do all go to
hell, think you, except you, and those that
follow your way ? We are for no more than
good fellowship and liberty; and as for so
much reading and praying, those are but
brain-sick, melancholy conceits: a man may
go to heaven like his neighbor, without all
this ado.” Thus they let fly at their pleas-
ure. But this troubles not the composed
Christian's mind at all: while curs snarl and
bark about him, the sober traveller goes on
his way, and regards them not. He that is
acquainted with the way of holiness, can
more than endure the counter-blasts and airs
of scoffs and revilings; he accounts them his
glory and his riches. So Moses esteemed the
reproach of Christ greater riches than the
treasures in Egypt. Heb. xi. 26. And beside
many other things to animate, we have this
which is here expressed:—
3dly, The supreme and final judgment. Oh,
how full is it! They shall give account to Him
that is ready to judge the quick and the dead
—hath this in readiness, rö £rotuos $xovrt, hath
the day set; and it shall surely come, though
you think it far off.
Though the wicked themselves forget their
scoffs against the godly, and though the Chris-
tian slights them, and lets them pass, they
pass not so ; they are all registered, and the
great court-day shall call them to account for
all these riots and excesses, and withal, for
all their reproaches of the godly, who would
not run with them in these ways. Tremble,
then, ye despisers and mockers of holiness,
though you come not near it. What will you
do when those you reviled shall appear glori-
ous in your sight, and their King, the king of
saints here, much more glorious, and his glory
their joy, and all terror to you? Oh,' then,
all faces that could look out disdainfully upon
religion and the professors of it, shall gather
blackness, and be bathed with shame, and the
despised saints of God shall shout so much
the more for joy.
You that would rejoice, then, in the appear-
ing of that holy Lord and Judge of the world,
let your way be now in holiness. Avoid and
hate the common ways of the wicked world;
they live in their foolish opinion, and that
shall quickly end, but the sentence of that day
shall stand for ever.
VER. 6. But for this cause was the gospel preached
also to them, that are dead, that they might be
judged according to men in the flesh, but live ac-
cording to God in the Spirit.
It is a thing of prime concernment for a
Christian, to be rightly informed, and frequent-
ly put in mind, what is the true estate and
nature of a Christian ; for this, the multitude
of those that bear that name, either know
not, or commonly forget, and so are carried
away with the vain fancies and mistakes of
the world. The apostle hath characterized
Christianity very clearly to us in this place,
by that which is the very nature of it, con-
formity with Christ, and that which is neces-
sarily consequent upon that, disconformity
with the world. And as the nature and natu-
ral properties of things hold universally, those
who in all ages are effectually called by the
gospel, are thus moulded and framed by it.
Thus it was, says the apostle, with your
brethren who are now at rest, as many as re-
ceived the gospel ; and for this end was it
preached to them, that they might be judged
according to men in the flesh, but live accord-
ing to God in the Spirit.
We have here, 1. The preaching of the
gospel as the suitable means to a certain end.
2. The express nature of that end.
1. For this cause was the gospel preached.
There is a particular end, and that very im-
portant, for which the preaching of the gos-
pel is intended ; this end many consider not,
hearing it as if it were to no end, or not pro-
pounding a fixed, determined end in the hear-
ing. This, therefore, is to be considered by
those who preach this gospel, that they aim
aright in it at this end, and at no other—no
self-end. The legal priests were not to be
squint-eyed (Lev. xxi. 20), nor must evangeli-
cal ministers be thus squinting to base gain,
or vain applause. They should also make it
their study, to find in themselves this work,
this living to God ; otherwise, they can not
skilfully or faithfully apply their gifts to work
this effect on their hearers: and therefore ac-
quaintance with God is most necessary.
How sounds it, to many of us at least, but
as a well-contrived story, whose use is to
amuse us, and possible delight us a little, and
there is an end——and indeed no end, for this
turns the most serious and most glorious of
all messages into an empty sound. If we
awake and give it a hearing, it is much : but
for anything further, how few deeply before-
hand consider: “I have a dead heart; there-
fore will I go unto the word of life, that it
may be quickened. It is frozen : I will go
and lay it before the warm beams of that Sun
which shines in the gospel. My corruptions
are mighty and strong, and grace, if there be
any in my heart, is exceeding weak; but
there is in the gospel a power to weaken and
kill sin, and to strengthen grace, and this
being the intent of my wise God in appoint-
ing it, it shall be my desire and purpose in
resorting to it, to find it to me according to
WER. 6.]
295
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
his gracious design : to have faith in my
Christ, the fountain of my life, more strength-
ened, and made more active in drawing from
him ; to have my heart more refined and spir-
itualized, and to have the sluice of repent-
ance opened, and my affections to Divine
things enlarged, more hatred of sin, and more
love of God and communion with him.”
Ask yourselves concerning former times;
and, to take yourselves even now, inquire
within, “Why came I hither this day ? What
had I in mine eye and desires this morning
ere I came forth, and in my way as I was
coming 2 Did I seriously propound an end, or
not ; and what was my end ?” Nor doth the
mere custom of mentioning this in prayer,
satisfy the question ; for this, as other such
things usually do in our hand, may turn to a
lileless form, and have no heat of spiritual af.
fection, none of David's panting and breathing
after God in his ordinances; such desires as
will not be stilled without a measure of at-
tainment, as the child’s desire of the breast,
as our apostle resembles it, ch. ii. 1.
And then, again, being returned home, re-
flect on your hearts: “Much hath been heard,
but is there anything done by it 2 Have I
gained my point? It was not simply to pass
a little time that I went, or to pass it with
delight in hearing, rejoicing in that light, as
they did in St. John Baptist's for a season
[rpäs &pavl, as long as the hour lasts. It was
not to have my ear pleased, but my heart
changed ; not to learn some new notions, and
carry them cold in my head, but to be quick-
ened and purified, and renewed in the spirit
of my mind. Is this done? Think I now
With greater esteem of Christ, and the life of
faith, and the happiness of a Christian 2 And
are such thoughts solid and abiding with me?
What sin have I left behind 2 What grace of
the Spirit have I brought home 2 Ör what
new degree, or, at least, new desire of it, a
living desire, that will follow its point 2 Oh!
this were good repetition.”
It is a strange folly in multitudes of us, to
set ourselves no mark, to propound no end in
the hearing of the gospel. The merchant
sails not merely that he may sail, but for
traffic, and traffics that he may be rich. The
husbandman ploughs not merely to keep him-
self busy, with no further end, but ploughs
that he may sow, and sows that he may reap
with advantage. And shall we do the most
excellent and fruitful work fruitlessly, hear
only to hear, and look no further ? This is
indeed a great vanity, and a great misery, to
lose that labor, and gain nothing by it, which
duly used, would be, of all others, most ad-
Vantageous and gainful: and yet all meetings
are full of this
Now, when you come, it is not simply to
hear a discourse, and relish or dislike it in
hearing, but a matter of life and death; of
eternal death, and eternal life ; and the spir-
itual life, begotten and nourished by the word,
is the beginning of that eternal life. It follows,
To them that are dead..] By which, I con-
ceive, he intends such as had heard and be-
lieved the gospel, when it came to them,
and now were dead. And this, I think, he
doth to strengthen those brethren to whom
he writes; he commends the gospel, to the
intent that they might not think the condition
and end of it hard : as our Savior mollifies the
matter of outward sufferings thus: So perse-
cuted they the prophets that were before you,
Matthew v. 12; and the apostle afterward, in
this chapter, uses the same reason in that
same subject. So here, that they might not
judge the point of mortification he presses, so
grievous, as naturally men will do, he tells
them, it is the constant end of the gospel, and
that they who have been saved by it, went
that same way he points out to them. They
that are dead before you, died in this way
that I press on you, before they died ; and
the gospel was preached to them for that very
end.
Men pass away, and others succeed, but
the gospel is still the same, hath the same
tenor and substance, and the same ends. So
Solomon speaks of the heavens and earth,
that they remain the same, while one genera-
tion passes, and another cometh. Eccl. i. 4.
The gospel surpasses both in its stability, as
our Savior testifies: They shall pass away,
but not one jot of this word. Matthew v. 18.
And indeed they wear and wax old, as the
apostle teaches us; but the gospel is, from
one age to another, of most unalterable in-
tegrity, hath still the same vigor and power-
ful influence as at the first.
They who formerly received the gospel, re-
ceived it upon these terms, therefore think it
not hard. And they are now dead ; all the
difficulty of that work of dying to sin, is now
over with them. If they had not died to their
sins by the gospel, they had died in them, af.
ter a while, and so died eternally. It is there-
fore a wise prevention, to have sin judged
and put to death in us before we die. If we
will not part with sin, if we die in it, and
with it, we and our sin perish together; but
if it die first before us, then we live for ever.
And what thinkest thou of thy carnal will
and all the delights of sin 2 What is the long-
est term of its life 2 Uncertain it is, but most
certainly very short; thou and these pleasures
must be severed and parted within a little
time; however, thou must die, and then they
die, and you never meet again. Now, were
it not the wisest course to part a little sooner
with them, and let them die before thee, that
thou mayest inherit eternal life, and eternal
delights in it, pleasures for evermore ? It is
the only wise bargain; let us therefore delay
it no longer.
This is our season of enjoying the sweet-
ness of the gospel. Others heard it before us
in the places which now we fill ; and now
they are removed, and we must remove short-
ly, and leave our places to others, to speak
and hear in. It is high time we were consid-
296
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
ering what we do here, to what end we speak
and hear: high time to lay hold on that sal-
vation which is held forth unto us, and that
we may lay hold on it, to let go our hold of
sin and those perishing things we hold so
firm, and cleave so fast to. Do they that are
dead, who heard and obeyed the gospel, now
repent of their repentance and mortifying of
the flesh 2
thousand times more pains, were it for many
ages, all too little for a moment of that which
now they enjoy, and shall enjoy to etermity ?
And they that are dead, who heard the gos-
pel and slighted it, if such a thing might be,
what would they give for one of those oppor-
tunities which now we daily have, and daily
lose, and have no fruit or esteem of them
You have lately seen, at least many of you,
and you that shifted the sight, have heard of
numbers, cut off in a little time, whole fami-
lies swept away by the late stroke of God's
hand,” many of which did think no other but
that they might have still been with you here
in this place and exercise, at this time, and
many years after this. And yet, who hath
laid to heart the lengthening out of his day,
and considered it more as an opportunity of
securing that higher and happier life, than as
a little protracting of this wretched life, which
is hastening to an end ? Oh therefore be en-
treated to-day, while it is called To-day, not
to harden your hearts. Though the pesti-
lence doth not now affright you so, yet, that
standing mortality, and the decay of these
earthen lodges, tell us that shortly we shall
cease to preach and hear this gospel. Did
we consider, it would excite us to a more ear-
nest search after our evidences of that eternal
life that is set before us in the gospel ; and
we should seek them in the characters of that
spiritual life which is the beginning of eter-
nal life within us, and is wrought by the gos-
pel in all the heirs of salvation.
Think therefore wisely of these two things,
of what is the proper end of the gospel, and
of the approaching end of thy days; and let
thy certainty of this latter, drive thee to seek
more certainty of theformer, that thou mayest
partake of it; and then, this again will make
the thoughts of the other sweet to thee. That
visage of death, that is so terrible to unchang-
ed sinners, shall be amiable to thine eye.
Having found a life in the gospel as happy and
lasting as this miserable and vanishing, and
seeing the perfection of that life on the other
side of death, thou wilt long for the passage.
Be more serious in this matter of daily
hearing the gospel. Consider why it is sent
to thee, and what it brings, and think—It is
too long I have slighted its message, and
many who have done so are cut off, and shall
hear it no more ; I have it once more invi-
ting me, and to me this may be the last in-
vitation. And in these thoughts, ere you
come, bow your knee to the Father of Spirits,
that this one thing may be granted you, that
* A. D. 1665.
Or rather, do they not think ten.
your souls may find at length the lively and
mighty power of his Spirit upon yours, in the
hearing of this gospel, that you may be judg-
ed according to men in the flesh, but live ac-
cording to God in the Spirit.
2. Thus is the particular nature of that end
expressed. And not to perplex you with
various senses, the apostle intends, I con-
ceive, no other than the dying to the world
and sin, and living unto God, which is his
main subject and scope in the foregoing dis-
course. That death was before called a suf-
fering in the flesh, which is in effect the
same; and therefore, though the words may
be drawn another way, yet it is strange that
interpreters have been so far wide of this their
genuine and agreeable sense, and that they
have been by almost all of them taken in some
other import.
To be judged in the flesh, in the present
sense, is to die to sin, or that sin die in us:
and [1..] It is thus expressed suitably to the
nature of it; it is to the flesh a violent death,
and it is according to a sentence judicially
pronounced against it. . That guilty and mise-
rable life of sin, is in the gospel adjudged to
death: there that arrest and sentence is clear
and full. See Rom. vi. 6, &c.; viii. 13. That
sin must die in order that the soul may live :
it must be crucified in us, and we to it, that
we may partake of the life of Christ, and of
happiness in him. And this is called to be
judged in the flesh, to have this sentence exe-
cuted. [2.] The thing is the rather spoken
of here under the term of being judged, in
counterbalance of that judgment mentioned
immediately before, ver. 5, the last judgment
of quick and dead, wherein they who would
not be thus judged, but mocked and despised
those that were, shall fall under a far more
terrible judgment, and the sentence of a heavy
death indeed, even everlasting death ; though
they think they shall escape and enjoy liberty
in living in sin. And that to be judged accord-
ing to men, is, I conceive, added; to signify
the connaturalness of the life of sin to a man's
now corrupt nature; that men do judge it a
death indeed, to be severed and pulled from
their sins, and that a cruel death ; and the
sentence of it in the gospel is a heavy sen-
tence, a hard saying to a carnal heart, that
he must give up all his sinful delights, must
die indeed in self-denial, must be separated
from himself, which is to die, if he will be
joined with Christ, and live in him. Thus
men judge that they are adjudged to a pain-
ful death by the sentence of the gospel. Al-
though it is that they may truly and happily
live, yet they understand it not so. They see
the death, the parting with sin and all its
pleasures; but the life they see not, nor can
any know it till they partake of it; it is known
to him in whom it exists; it is hid with Christ
in God. Col. iii. 3. And therefore the opposi-
tion here is very fitly thus represented, thai
the death is according to men in the flesh, but
the life is according to God in the Spirit.
WER. 6.]
297
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
As the Christian is adjudged to this death
in the flesh by the º so he is looked on
and accounted, by carnal men, as dead, for
that he enjoys not with them what they es-
teem their life, and think they could not live
without. One that can not carouse and swear
with profane men, is a silly dead creature,
good for nothing ; and he that can bear
wrongs, and love him that injured him, is a
poor spiritless fool, hath no mettle or life in
him, in the world’s account. Thus is he
judged according to men in the flesh,_he is
as a dead man,—but lives according to God
wn the Spirit; dead to men, and alive to God,
as wer. 2.
Now, if this life be in thee, it will act. All
life is in motion, and is called an act, but
most active of all is this most excellent, and,
as I may call it, most lively life. It will be
moving toward God, often seeking to him,
making still toward him as its principle and
fountain, exerting itself in holy and affec-
tionate thoughts of him; sometimes on One
of his sweet attributes, sometimes on anoth-
er, as the bee among the flowers. And as it
will thus act within, so it will be outwardly
laying hold on all occasions, yea, seeking out
ways and opportunities to be serviceable to
thy Lord ; employing all for him, commend-
ing and extolling his goodness, doing and suf-
fering cheerfully for him, laying out the
strength of desires, and parts, and means, in
thy station, to gain him glory. If thou be
alone, then not esteeming thyself alone, but
with him, seeking to know more of him, and
to be made more like him. If in company,
then casting about how to bring his name
into esteem, and to draw others to a love of
religion and holiness by speeches, as it may
be fit, and most by the true behavior of thy
carriage ;-tender over the souls of others, to
do them good to thy utmost ; thinking, each
day, an hour lost when thou art not busy for
the honor and advantage of him to whom
thou now livest:-thinking in the morning,
Now what may I do this day for my God 2
How may I most please and glorify him, and
use my strength, and wit, and my whole
self, as not mine, but his 2 And then, in the
evening, reflecting, O Lord, have I seconded
these thoughts in reality ? What glory hast
thou had by me this day? Whither went
my thoughts and endeavors ? What busied
them most 2 Have I been much with God 2
Have I adorned the gospel in my converse
with others ?—And if thou findest anything
done this way, this life will engage thee to
bless and acknowledge him, the spring and
worker of it. If thou hast stepped aside,
were it but to an appearance of evil, or if
any fit season of good hath escaped thee un-
profitably, it will lead thee to check thyself,
and to be grieved for thy sloth and coldness,
and to see if more love would not beget more
diligence.
Try it by sympathy and antipathy, which
follow the nature of things: as we see in
some plants and creatures that can not grow,
can not agree together, and others that do fa-
vor and benefit mutually. If thy soul hath
an aversion and reluctancy against whatever
is contrary to holiness, it is an evidence of
this new nature and life ; thy heart rises
against wicked ways and speeches, oaths and
cursings, and rotten communication; yea,
thou canst not endure unworthy discourses,
wherein most spend their time; thou findest
no relish in the unsavory societies of such as
know not God, canst not sit with vain persons,
but findest a delight in those who have the
image of God upon them, such as partake of
that divine life, and carry the evidences of it
in their carriage. David did not disdain the
fellowship of the saints, and that it was no
disparagement to him, is implied in the name
he gives them, Psalm xvi. 2, the eacellent
ones, the magnific or noble, adiri : that word
is taken from one that signifies a robe or no-
ble garment, adereth, toga magnifica: so
he thought them nobles and kings as well
as he they had robes royal, and therefore
were fit companions of kings. A spiritual
eye looks upon spiritual dignity, and esteems
and loves them who are born of God, how
low soever be their natural birth and breed-
ing. The sons of God have of his Spirit in
them, and are born to the same inheritance,
where all shall have enough, and they are
tending homeward by the conduct of the
same Spirit that is in them ; so that there
must be among them a real complacency
and delight in one another.
And then, consider the temper of thy heart
toward spiritual things, the word and ordi-
mances of God, whether thou dost esteem
highly of them, and delight in them ; wheth-
er there be compliance of the heart with di-
vine truths, something in thee, that suits and
sides with them against thy corruptions :
whether in thy affliction thou seekest not to
the puddles of earthly comforts, but hast thy
recourse to the sweet crystal streams of the
divine promises, and findest refreshment in
them. It may be, at some times, in a spirit-
ual distemper, holy exercises and ordinances
will not have that present sensible sweetness
to a Christian, that he desires: and some
will for a long time lie under dryness and
deadness this way; yet there is here an ev-
idence of this spiritual life, that thou stayest
by the Lord, and reliest on him, and wilt not
leave these holy means, how sapless soever
to thy sense for the present. Thou findest
for a long time little sweetness in prayer, yet
thou prayest still, and, when thou canst say
nothing, yet offerest at it, and lookest toward
Christ thy life. Thou dost not turn away
from these things to seek consolation else-
where, but as thou knowest that life is in
Christ, thon wilt stay till he refresh thee
with new and lively influence. It is not any
where but in him ; as St. Peter said, Lord,
whither should we go 2 Thou hast the words
of eternal life. John vi. 68.
38
298
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
Consider with thyself, whether thou hast
any knowledge of the growth of deficiencies
of this spiritual life; for it is here but begun,
and breathes in an air contrary to it, and
lodges in a house that often smokes and dark-
ens it. Canst thou go on in formal perform-
ances, from one year to another, and make
no advancement in the inward exercises of
grace, and restest thou content with that ?
It is no good sign. But art thou either gain-
ing victories over sin, and further strength
of faith and love, and other graces, or, at
least, art thou earnestly seeking these, and
bewailing thy wants and disappointments of
this kind 2 Then thou livest. At the worst,
wouldst thou rather grow this way, be far-
ther off from sin, and nearer to God, than
grow in thy estate, or credit or honors 2 Es-
teemest thou more highly of grace than of
the whole world 2 There is life at the root;
although thou findest not that flourishing
thou desirest ; yet, the desire of it is life in
thee. And, if growing this way, art thou
content; whatsoever is thy outward estate 2
Canst thou Solace thyself in the love and
goodness of thy God, though the world frown
on thee? Art thou unable to take comfort in the
Smiles of the world, when his face is hid? This
tells thee thou livest, and that he is thy life.
Although many Christians have not so
much sensible joy, yet they account spiritual
joy and the light of God’s countenance the
only truejoy, and all other without it, mad-
ness; and they cry, and sigh, and wait for it.
Meanwhile, not only duty and the hopes of
attaining a better state in religion, but even
love to God, makes them to do so, to serve,
and please and glorify him to their utmost.
And this is not a dead resting without God,
but it is a stable compliance with his will in
the highest point; waiting for him, and liv-
ing by faith, which is most acceptable to him,
In a Word, whether in sensible comfort or
Without it, still, this is the fixed thought of a
believing soul, It is good for me to draw
nigh to God, Psalm lxxiii. 28:-only good;
and it will not live in a willing estranged-
ness from him, what way soever he be pleas-
ed to deal with it,
. Now, for the entertaining and strengthen-
ing of this life, which is the great business
and care of all that have it,
1st. Beware of omitting and interrupting
those spiritual means, which do provide it
and nourish it. Little neglects of that kind
will draw on greater, and great neglects will
make great abatements of vigor and liveliness.
Take heed of using holy things coldly and
lazily, without affection: that will make them
fruitless, and our life will not be advantaged
by them, unless they be used in a lively way.
Be active in all good within thy reach; as
this is a sign of the spiritual life, so it is a
helper and friend to it. A slothful, unstirring
life, will make a sickly, unhealthy life. Mo.
tion purifies and sharpens the spirits, and
makes men robust and vigorous.
2dly. Beware of admitting a correspondence
with any sin ; yea, do not so much as discourse
familiarly with it, or look kindly toward it;
for that will undoubtedly cast a damp upon
thy spirit, and diminish thy graces at least,
and will obstruct thy communion with God.
Thou knowest (thou who hast any knowledge
of this life) that thou canst not go to him with
that sweet freedom thou wert wont, after
thou hast been but tempering or parleying
with any of thy old loves. Oh do not make
so foolish a bargain, as to prejudice the least
of thy spiritual comforts, for the greatest and
longest continued enjoyments of sin, which
are base and but for a season.
But wouldst thougrow upward in this life?
3dly, Have much recourse to Jesus Christ thy
head, the spring from whom flow are animal
spirits that quicken thy soul. Wouldst thou
know more of God? He it is who reveals the
Father, and reveals him as his Father, and,
in him, thy Father ; and that is the sweet
notion of God. Wouldst thou overcome thy
lusts further. Our victory is in him. Apply
his conquests: We are more than conquerors,
through him that loved us. Rom. viii. 37.
Wouldst thou be more replenished with graces
and spiritual affections 2 His fulness is, for
that use, open to us; there is life, and more
life, in him, and for us. This was his busi-
ness here. He came, that we might have life,
and might have it more abundantly. John
x. 10.
VER. 7. But the end of all things is at hand: be ye
therefore sober, and watch unto prayer.
THE heart of a real Christian is really taken
off from the world, and set heavenward ; yet
there is still in this flesh so much of the flesh
hanging to it, as will readily poise all down-
ward, unless it be often wound up and put in
remembrance of those things that will raise
it still to further spirituality. This the apostle
doth in this epistle, and particularly in these
words, in which three things are to be con-
sidered. I. A threefold duty recommended.
II. The mutual relation that binds these duties
to one another. III. That reason here used
to bind them upon a Christian.
I. A threefold duty recommended, sobriety,
watchfulness, and prayer; and of the three,
the last is evidently the chief, and is here so
meant, and others being recommended, as
suitable and subservient to it; therefore I shall
speak first of prayer.
And truly, to speak and to hear of this duty
often, were our hearts truly and entirely ac-
quainted with it, would have still new sweet-
ness and usefulness in it. Oh, how great
were the advantage of that lively knowledge
of it, beyond the exactest skill in defining it,
and in discoursing on the heads of doctrine
concerning it ! e
Prayer is not a smooth expression, or a
well-contrived form of words; not the product
of a ready memory, or of a rich invention
exerting itself in the performance. These
may draw a neat picture of it, but still, the
WER. 7.]
299
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
life is wanting. The motion of the heart
God-ward, holy and divine affection, makes
prayer real, and lively, and acceptable to the
living God, to whom it is presented; the
pouring out of thy heart to him who made
it, and therefore hears it, and understands
what it speaks, and how it is moved and af.
fected in calling on him. It is not the gilded
paper and good writing of a petition, that
prevails with a king, but the moving sense
of it. And to that king who discerns the
heart, heart-sense is the sense of all, and that
which only he regards; he listens to hear
what that speaks, and takes all as nothing
where that is silent. All other excellence in
prayer is but the outside and fashion of it ;
this is the life of it.
Though prayer, precisely taken, is only
petition, yet, in its fuller and usual sense, it
comprehends the venting of our humble sense
of Wileness and sin, in sincere confession, and
the extolling and praising of the holy name
of our God, his excellency and goodness, with
thankful acknowledgment of received mer-
cies. Of these sweet ingredient perfumes is
the incense of prayer composed, and by the
Divine fire of love it ascend unto God, the
heart and all with it; and when the hearts
of the saints unite in joint prayer, the pillar
of sweet smoke goes up the greater and the
fuller. Thus says that song of the spouse:
Going up from the wilderness, as pillars of
smoke perfumed with myrrh and frankincense,
and all the powders of the merchant. Cant.
iii. 6. The word there (Timeroth, from Temer,
a palm-tree), signifies straight pillars, like the
tallest, straightest kind of trees. And, indeed,
the sincerity and unfeignedness of prayer
make it go up as a straight pillar, no crooked-
ness in it, tending straight toward heaven,
and bowing to no side by the way. Oh the
single and fixed viewing of God, as it, in other
ways, is the thing which makes all holy and
Sweet, so particularly does it in this Divine
work of prayer.
It is true we have to deal with a God who
of himself needs not this our pains, either to
inform or to excite him: he fully knows our
thoughts before we express them, and our
wants before we feel them or think of them.
Nor doth this affection and gracious bent to
do his children good, wax remiss, or admit
of the least abatement and forgetfulness of
them.
But, instead of necessity on the part of God,
which can not be imagined, we shall find that
equity, and that singular dignity and utility
of it, on our part, which can not be denied.
1. Equity. That thus the creature signify
his homage to, and dependance on, his Crea-
tor, for his being and well-being ; that he
take all the good he enjoys, or expects, from
that Sovereign Good, declaring himself un-
worthy, waiting for all upon the terms of free
goodness, and acknowledging all to flow from
that spring.
2. Dignity. Man was made for communion
with God his Maker; it is the excellency of
his nature to be capable of this end, the hap-
piness of it to be raised to enjoy it. Now, in
nothing more in this life, is this communion
actually and highly enjoyed, than in the ex-
ercise of prayer; in that he may freely im-
part his affairs, and estate, and wants, to
God, as the most faithful and powerful friend,
the richest and most loving father; may use
the liberty of a child, telling his Father what
he stands in need of and desires, and commu-
ning with him with humble confidence, being
admitted so frequently into the presence of
so great a King.
3. The utility of it. [1] Prayer eases the
soul in times of distress, when it is oppressed
with griefs and fears, by giving them vent,
and that in so advantageous a way, emptying
them into the bosom of God. The very vent,
were it but into the air, gives ease; or speak
your grief to a statue rather than smother it;
much more ease does it give to pour it forth
into the lap of a confidential and sympathi-
zing friend, even though unable to help us ;
yet still more, of one who can help ; and, of
all friends, our God is, beyond all compari-
son, the surest, and most affectionate, and
most powerful. So Isa. lxiii. 9, both com-
passion and effectual salvation are expressed:
In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the
angel of his presence saved them ; in his love
and in his pity he redeemed them ; and he
bare them, and carried them all the days of
old. And so, resting on his love, power, and
gracious promises, the soul quiets itself in
God upon this assurance, that it is not in vain
to seek him, and that he despiseth not the
sighing of the poor. Psalm xii. 5.
[2.] The soul is more spiritually affected
with its own condition, by laying it open be-
fore the Lord ; becomes more deeply sensible
of sin, and ashamed in his sight, in confessing
it before him; more dilated and enlarged to
receive the mercies sued for, as the opening
wide of the mouth of the soul, that it may be
filled ; more disposed to observe the Lord in
answering, and to bless him, and trust on
him, upon the renewed experiences of his re-
gard to its distresses and desires.
[3.] All the graces of the Spirit are, in
prayer, stirred and exercised, and, by exer-
cise, strengthened and increased ; faith, in
applying the Divine promises, which are the
very ground that the soul goes upon to God,
Hope looking out to their performance, and
Love particularly expressing itself in that
sweet converse, and delighting in it, as love
doth in the company of the person beloved,
thinking all hours too short in speaking with
him. Oh, how the soul is refreshed with
freedom of speech with its beloved Lord
And as it delights in that, so it is continually
advanced and grows by each meeting and
conference, beholding the excellency of God,
and relishing the pure and sublime pleasures
that are to be found in near communion with
him. Looking upon the Father in the face
300
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
of Christ, and using him as a mediator in
prayer, as still it must, it is drawn to further
admiration of that bottomless love, which
found out that way of agreement, that new
and living way of our access, when all was
shut up, and we must otherwise have been
shut out for ever. And then, the affectionate
expressions of that reflex love, seeking to find
that vent in prayer, do kindle higher, and be-
ing as it were fanned and blown up, rise to a
greater, and higher, and purer flame, and so
tend upward the more strongly. David, as
he doth profess his love to God in prayer, in
his Psalms, so no doubt it grew in the ex-
pressing; I will love thee, O Lord my strength,
Psalm xviii. 1. And in Psalm crvi. 1, he
doth raise an incentive of love out of this
very consideration of the correspondence of
prayer—I love the Lord because he hath
heard ; and he resolves thereafter upon per-
sistance in that course—therefore will I call
upon him as long as I live. And as the gra-
ces of the Spirit are advanced in prayer by
their actings, so for this further reason, be-
cause prayer sets the soul particularly near
unto God in Jesus Christ. It is then in his pres-
ence, and being much with God in this way,
it is powerfully assimilated to him by con-
Verse with him; as we readily contract their
habits with whom we have much inter-
course, especially if they be such as we sin-
gularly love and respect. Thus the soul is
moulded further to the likeness of God, is
stamped with clearer characters of him, hy
being much with him, becomes more like
God, more holy and spiritual, and, like Mo-
ses, brings back a bright shining from the
II) OUnt.
[4.] And not only thus, by a natural influ-
ence, doth prayer work this advantage, but
even by a federal efficacy, suing for, and upon
suit obtaining, supplies of grace as the chief
good, and besides, all other needful mercies.
It is a real means of receiving. Whatsoever
you shall ask, that will I do, says our Savior.
John xiv. 13. God having established this
intercouse, has engaged his truth and good-
ness in it, that if they call on him, they shall
be heard and answered. If they prepare the
heart to call, he will incline his ear to hear.
Our Savior hath assured us, that we may
build upon his goodness, upon the affection
of a father in him; He will give good things
to them that ask, says one Evangelist (Matt.
vii. 11), give them the Holy Spirit to them
that ask him, says another (Luke xi. 13), as
being the good indeed, the highest of gifts
and the sum of all good things, and that for
which his children are most earnest suppli-
cants. Prayer for grace doth, as it were, set
the mouth of the soul to the spring, draws
from Jesus Christ, and is replenished out of
his fulness, thirsting after it, and drawing
from it that way. -
And for this reason it is that our Savior,
and from him, and according to his example,
the apostle, recommend prayer so much.
Watch and pray, says our Savior, Matt. xxvi.
41; and St. Paul, Pray continually, 1 Thess.
v. 17. And our apostle here particularly spe-
cifies this, as the grand means of attaining
that conformity with Christ which he pres-
ses: this is the highway to it, Be sober and
watch unto prayer. He that is much in
prayer, shall grow rich in grace. He shall
thrive and increase most, who is busiest in
this, which is our very traffic with heaven,
and fetches the most precious commodities
thence. He who sends oftenest out these
ships of desire, who makes the most voyages .
to that land of spices and pearls, shall be
sure to improve his stock most, and have
most of heaven upon earth.
But the true art of this trading is very rare.
Every trade hath something wherein the
skill of it lies; but this is deep and supernat-
ural, is not reached by human industry. In-
dustry is to be used in it, but we must know
the faculty of it comes from above, that spirit
of prayer without which, learning, and wit,
and religious breeding, can do nothing. There-
fore, this is to be our prayer often, our great
suit, for the spirit of prayer, that we may
speak the language of the sons of God by
the Spirit of God, which alone teaches the
heart to pronounce aright those things that
the tongue of many hypocrites can articulate
well to man’s ear. Only the children, in that
right strain that takes him, call God their
Father, and cry unto him as their Father;
and therefore, many a poor unlettered Chris-
tian far outstrips your school-rabbies in this
faculty, because it is not effectually taught
in those lower academies. They must be in
God’s own school, children of his house, who
speak this language. Men may give spirit-
ual rules and directions in this, and such as
may be useful, drawn from the word that fur-
nishes us with all needful precepts; but you
have still to bring these into the seat of this
faculty of prayer, the heart, and stamp tº tem
upon it, and so to teach it to pray, without
which there is no prayer. This is the pre-
rogative royal of him who framed the heart
of man within him.
But for advancing in this, and growing
more skilful in it, prayer is, with continual
dependance on the Spirit, to be much used.
Praying much, thou shalt be blest with much
faculty for it. So then, askest thou, What
shall I do that I may learn to pray ? . There
be things here to be considered, which are
expressed as serving this end ; but for the
present take this, and chiefly this. By pray-
ing, thou shalt learn to pray.—Thou shalt
both obtain more of the Spirit, and find more
of the cheerful working of it in prayer, when
thou puttest it often to that work for which
it is received, and wherein it takes delight.
And, as both advantaging all other graces
and promoting the grace of prayer itself, this
frequency and abounding in prayer is here
very clearly intended, in that the apostle
makes it as the main of the work we have to
WER. 7.]
301
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
do, and would have us keep our hearts in a
constant aptness for it: Be sober and watch
—to what end ?—unto prayer.
Be sober.] They that have no better, must
make the best they can of carnal delights. It
is no wonder they take as large a share of
them as they can bear, and sometimes more.
But the Christian is called to a more excel-
lent state, and higher pleasures; so that he
may behold men glutting themselves with
these base things, and be as little moved to
share with them, as men are taken with the
pleasure a swine hath in wallowing in the
mire.
It becomes the heirs of heaven to be far
above the love of the earth, and in the neces-
sary use of any earthly things, still to keep
within the due measure of their use, and to
keep their hearts wholly disengaged from an
excessive affection to them. This is the so-
briety to which we are here exhorted.
It is true, that in the most common sense
of the word, it is very commendable, and it is
fit to be so considered by a Christian, that he
flee gross intemperance, as a thing most con-
trary to his condition and holy calling, and
wholly inconsistent with the spiritual temper
of a renewed mind, with those exercises to
which it is called, and with its progress in
its way homeward. It is a most unseemly
sight, to behold one simply by outward pro-
fession a Christian, overtaken with surfeiting
and drunkenness, much more, given to the
vile custom of it. All sensual delights, even
the filthy lust of uncleanness, go under the
common name of insobriety, intemperance,
droMagia ; and they all degrade and destroy the
noble soul, being unworthy of a man, much
more of a Christian ; and the contempt of
them preserves the soul and elevates it.
But the sobriety here recommended, though
it takes in that too, yet reaches farther than
temperance in meat and drink. It is the
spiritual temperance of a Christian mind in
all earthly things, as our Savior joins these
together, Luke xxi. 34, surfeiting, and drunk-
enness, and cares of this life : and under the
Cares are comprehended all the excessive de-
sires and delights of this life, which can not
be followed and attended without distem-
pered carefulness.
Many who are sober men and of temperate
diet, yet are spiritually intemperate, drunk
with pride, or covetousness, or passions;.
drunk with self-love and love of their pleas-
ures and ease, with love of the world and
the things of it, which can not consist with
the love of God, as St. John tells us, 1 John ii.
15; drunk with the inordinate, unlawful love
even of their lawful calling and the lawful gain
they pursue by it. Their hearts are still going
after it, and so, reeling to and fro, never fixed
on God and heavenly things, but either hur-
ried up and down with incessant business, or,
if sometimes at ease, it is as the ease of a
drunken man, not composed to better and
wiser thoughts, but falling into a dead sleep,
contrary to the watching here joined with
sobriety.
Watch..] There is a Christian rule to be
observed in the very moderating of bodily
sleep, and that particularly for the interest of
prayer; but watching, as well as sobriety,
here, implies chiefly the spiritual circum-
spectness and vigilancy of the mind, in a
wary, waking posture, that it be not surprised
by the assaults or sleights of Satan, by the
world, nor by its nearest and most deceiving
enemy, the corruption that dwells within,
which being so near, doth most readily watch
unperceived advantages, and easily circum-
vent us. Heb. xii. 1. The soul of a Christian
being surrounded with enemies, both of so
great power and wrath, and so watchful to
undo it, should it not be watchful for its own
safety, and live in a military vigilancy con-
tinually, keeping constant watch and senti-
nel, and suffering nothing to pass that may
carry the least suspicion of danger ? Should
he not be distrustful and jealous of all the
motions of his own heart, and the smilings
of the world? And in relation to these, it
will be a wise course to take that word as a
good caveat, Nips kai piavnoe firio reiv. Be watch-
ful, and remember to mistrust. Under the gar-
ment of some harmless pleasure, or some law-
ful liberties, may be conveyed into thy soul
some thief or traitor, that will either betray
thee to the enemy, or at least pilfer and steal of
the most precious things thou hast. Do we
not by experience find, how easily our foolish
hearts are seduced and deceived, and therefore
apt to deceive themselves 2 And by things
that seem to have no evil in them, they are yet
drawn from the height of affection to their
Supreme Good, and from communion with
God, and study to please him ; which should
not be intermitted, for then it will abate,
whereas it ought still to be growing.
Now, II. The mutual relation of these du-
ties is clear: they are each of them assistant
and helpful to the other, and are in their na-
ture inseparably linked together, as they are
here in the words of the apostle ; sobriety,
the friend of watchfulness, and prayer, of
both. Intemperance doth of necessity draw
on sleep ; excessive eating and drinking, by
sending up too many, and so, gross vapors,
surcharge the brain ; and when the body is
thus deadened, how unfit is it for any active
employment. Thus the mind, by a surcharge
of delights, or desires, or cares of earth, is
made so heavy and dull, that it can not
awake; hath not the spiritual activity and
clearness that spiritual exercises, particularly
prayer, do require. Yea, as bodily insobriety,
full feeding and drinking, not only for the
time indisposes to action, but, by the custom
of it, brings the body to so gross and heavy a
temper, that the very matural spirits can not
stir to and fro in it with freedom, but are
clogged, and stick as the wheels of a coach
in a deep miry way; thus is it with the soul
glutted with earthly things: the affections
302
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
bemited with them, make it sluggish and in-
active in spiritual things, and render the mo-
tions of the spirit heavy; and, obstructed thus,
the soul grows carnally secure and sleepy,
and prayer comes heavily off. But when the
affections are soberly exercised, and even in
lawful things have not full liberty, with the
reins laid on their necks, to follow the world
and carnal projects and delights: when the
unavoidable affairs of this life are done with
a spiritual mind, a heart kept free and disen-
gaged ; then is the soul more nimble for spir-
itual things, for Divine meditation and prayer:
it can watch and continue in these things, and
spend itself in that excellent way with more
alacrity.
Again, as this sobriety, and the watchful
temper attending it, enable for prayer, so
prayer preserves these. Prayer winds up the
soul from the earth, raises it above those
things which intemperance feeds on, acquaints
it with the transcending sweetness of Divine
comforts, the love and loveliness of Jesus
Christ ; and these most powerfully wean the
soul from the low creeping pleasures that the
world gapes after and swallows with such
greediness. He that is admitted to nearest
intimacy with the king, and is called daily
to his presence, not only in the view and
company of others, but likewise in secret,
will he be so mad as to sit down and drink
with the kitchen-boys, or the common guards,
so far below what he may enjoy 3 Surely
In Ot.
Prayer, being our near communion with the
great God, certainly sublimates the soul, and
makes it look down upon the base ways of
the world with disdain, and despise the truly
besotting pleasures of it. Yea, the Lord doth
sometimes fill those souls that converse much
with him, with such beatific delights, such
inebriating sweetness, as I may call it, that
it is, in a happy manner, drunk with these ;
and the more there is of this, the more is the
soul above base intemperance in the use of
the delights of the world. Whereas common
drunkenness makes a man less than a man,
this makes him more than a man: that sinks
him below himself, makes him a beast; this
raises him above himself, and makes him an
angel.
Would you, as surely you ought, have much
faculty for prayer, and be frequent in it, and
experience much of the pure sweetness of it?
Then deny yourselves more the muddy pleas-
ures and sweetness of the world. If you would
pray much, and with much advantage, then
be sober, and watch unto prayer. Suffer not
your hearts to long so after ease, and wealth,
and esteem in the world: these will make
your hearts, if they mix with them, become
like them, and take their quality; will make
them gross and earthly, and unable to mount
up ; will clog the wings of prayer, and you
shall find the loss, when your soul is heavy
and drowsy, and falls off from delighting in
God and communion with him. Will such
things as those you follow be able to counter-
Vail your damage 3 Can they speak you peace,
and uphold you in a day of darkness and dis-
tress 2 Or may it not be such now, as will
make them all a burden and vexation to you?
But, on the other hand, the more you abate
and let go of these, and come empty and hun-
gry to God in prayer, the more room shall
you have for his consolations; and therefore,
the more plentifully will he pour in of them,
and enrich your soul with them the more, the
less you take in of the other.
Again, would you have yourselves raised to,
and continued and advanced in, a spiritual
heavenly temper, free from the surfeits of
earth, and awake and active for heaven 3 Be
incessant in prayer.
But thou wilt say, “I find nothing but
heavy indisposedness in it, nothing but ro-
ving and vanity of heart, and so, though I
have used it some time, it is still unprofitable
and uncomfortable to me.” Although it be
so, yet hold on, give it not over. Or need I
say this to thee ? Though it were referred
to thyself, wouldst thou forsake it and leave
off 2 Then, what wouldst thou do next 2 For
if there be no comfort in it, far less is there
any for thee in any other way. If temptation
should so far prevail with thee as to lead thee
to try intermission, either thou wouldst be
forced to return to it presently, or certainly
wouldst fall into a more grievous condition,
and, after horrors and lashings, must at length
come back to it again, or perish for ever.
Therefore, however it go, continue praying.
Strive to believe that love thou canst not see;
for where sight is abridged, there it is proper
for faith to work. If thou canst do no more,
lie before thy Lord, and look to him, and say,
“Lord, here I am, thou mayest quicken and
revive me if thou wilt, and I trust thou wilt;
but if I must do it, I will die at thy feet. My
life is in thy hand, and thou art goodness and
mercy: while I have breath I will cry, or, if I
can not cry, yet I will wait on, and look to thee.”
One thing forget not, that the ready way to
rise out of this sad, yet safe state, is, to be
much in viewing the Mediator, and interpo-
sing him between the Father’s view and thy
soul. Some who do orthodoxly believe this
to be right, yet (as often befalls us in other
things of this kind), do not so consider and
use it in their necessity, as becomes them,
and therefore fall short of comfort. He hath
declared it. No man cometh to the Father
but by me. How vile soever thou art, put
thyself under his robe, and into his hand, and
he will lead thee unto the Father, and pre-
sent thee acceptable and blameless; and the
Father shall receive thee, and declare him-
self well pleased with thee in his well-beloved
Son, who hath covered thee with his righte-
ousness, and brought thee so clothed, and set
thee before him.
III. The third thing we have to consider is,
the reason which binds on us these duties:
The end of all things is at hand.
WER. 7.]
303
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
We need often to be reminded of this, for
even believers too readily forget it: and it is
very suitable to the apostle's foregoing dis-
course of judgment, and to his present exhor-
tation to sobriety and watchfulness unto
prayer. Even the general end of all is at
hand ; though, since the apostle wrote this,
many ages are past. For, [1..] The apostles
usually speak of the whole time after the
coming of Jesus Christ in the flesh, as the last
time, for that two double chiliads of years
passed before it, the one before, the other un-
der the law ; and in this third, it is conceived,
shall be the end of all things. And the apos-
tles seem, by divers expressions, to have ap-
prehended it in their days to be not far off.
So, St. Paul, 1 Thess. iv. 17: We which are
alive, and remain, shall be caught up togeth-
er with them in the clouds—speaking as if it
were not impossible that it might come in
their time ; which put him upon some expli-
cation of that correction of their mistakes, in
his next epistle to them, wherein, notwith-
standing, he seems not to assert any great
tract of time to intervene, but only that in
that time great things were first to come.
[2.] However, this might always have been
said: in respect of succeeding eternity, the
whole duration of the world is not considera-
ble ; and to the eternal Lord who made it,
and hath appointed its period, a thousand
3years are but as one day. We think a thou-
Sand years a great matter, in respect of our
short life, and more so through our shortsight-
edness, who look not through this to eternal
life; but what is the utmost length of time,
were it millions of years, to a thought of eter-
nity ? We find much room in this earth, but
to the vast heavens, it is but as a point.
Thus, that which is but small to us, a field or
little enclosure, a fly, had it skill, would di-
vide into provinces in proportion to itself.
[3.] To each man, the end of all things is
even after our measure, at hand ; for when
he dies, the world ends for him. Now this
consideration fits the subject, and presses it
strongly. . Seeing all things shall be quickly
at an end, even the frame of heaven and
earth, why should we, knowing this, and hav-
ing higher hopes, lay out so much of our de-
sires and endeavors upon those things that are
posting to ruin 3 It is no hard motion, to be
sober and watchful to prayer, to be trading
that way, and seeking higher things, and to
be very moderate in these, which are of so
short a date. As in themselves and their ut-
most term, they are of short duration, so more
evidently to each of us in particular, who are
so soon cut off, and flee away. Why should
our hearts cleave to those things from which
we shall so quickly part, and from which, if
we will not freely part and let them go, we
shall be pulled away, and pulled with the
more pain, the closer we cleave, and the
faster, we are glued to them 2
This the Apostle St. Paul casts in seasona-
bly (though many think it not seasonable at
such times), when he is discoursing of a great
point of our life, marriage, to work Christian
minds to a holy freedom both ways, whether
they use it or not ; not to view it, nor any-
thing here, with the world's spectacles, which
make it look so big and so fixed, but to see it
in the stream of time as passing by, and as no
such great matter. 1 Cor. vii. 31: The fash-
ion of this world passeth away rapáyet, as a par
geant or show in a street, going through and
quickly out of sight. What became of all the
marriage solemnities of kings and princes of
former ages, which they were so taken up
with in their time ! When we read of them
described in history, they are as a might-
dream, or a day-ſancy, which passes through
the mind and vanishes.
Oh foolish man, that hunteth such poor
things, and will not be called off till death
benight him, and he finds his great work not
done, yea, not begun, nor even seriously
thought of Your buildings, your trading,
your lands, your matches, and friendships and
projects, when they take with you, and your
hearts are after them, say, But for how long
are all these ? Their end is at hand : there-
fore be sober, and watch unto prayer. Learn
to divide better: more hours for prayer, and
fewer for them ; your whole heart for it, and
none of it for them. Seeing they will fail you
so quickly, prevent them ; become free: lean
not on them till they break, and you fall into
the pit.
It is reported of one, that, hearing the fifth
chapter of Genesis read, so long lives, and
yet, the burden still, they died—Seth lived
nine hundred and twelve years, and he died ,
Enos lived nine hundred and five years,
and he died ; Methuselah nine hundred and
sixty-nine years, and he died ;-he took so
deeply the thought of death and etermity, that
it changed his whole frame, and turned him
from a voluptuous, to a most strict and pious
course of life. How small a word will do
much, when God sets it into the heart | But
surely, this one thing would make the soul
more calm and sober in the pursuit of present
things, if their term were truly computed and
considered. How soon shall youth, and health,
and carnal delights, be at an end How soon
shall state-craft, and king-craft, and all the
great projects of the highest wits and spirits,
be laid in the dust . This casts a damp upon
all those fine things. But to a soul acquainted
with God, and in affection removed hence al-
ready, no thought so sweet as this. It helps
much to carry it cheerfully through wrestlings
and difficulties, through better and worse ;
they see land near, and shall quickly be at
home : that is the way. The end of all things
is at hand ; an end of a few poor delights and
the many vexations of this wretched life; an
end of temptations and sins, the worst of all
evils; yea, an end of the imperfect fashion of
our best things here, an end of prayer itself,
to which succeeds that new song of endless
praise.
304
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
VER. 8. And, above all things, have fervent charity
among yourselves: for charity shall cover the mul-
titude of sins.
THE graces of the Spirit are an entire frame,
making up the new creation, and none of them
can be wanting; therefore the doctrine and
exhortation of the apostles speak of them
usually, not only as inseparable, but as one.
But there is, among them all, none more com-
prehensive than this of love, insomuch that
St. Paul calls it the fulfilling of the law, Rom.
xiii. 10. Love to God is the sum of all rela-
tive to him, and so likewise is it toward our
brethren. Love to God is that which makes
us live to him, and be wholly his ; that which
most powerfully weans us from this world,
and causeth us delight in communion with
him in holy meditation and prayer. Now the
apostle adding here the duty of Christians to
one another, gives this as the prime, yea, the
sum of all : Above all, have fervent love.
Concerning this, consider, I. The nature of
it. II. The eminent degree of it. And, III.
The excellent fruit of it.
I. The nature of this love. 1. It is a union,
therefore called a bond or chann, that links
things together. 2. It is not a mere external
union, that holds in customs, or words, or out-
ward carriage, but a union of hearts. 3. It is
here not a natural, but a spiritual, supernat-
ural union : it is the mutual love of Chris-
tians as brethren. There is a common benevo-
lence and good will due to all; but a more
particular uniting affection amongst Chris-
tians, which makes them interchangeably
On 62.
The devil being an apostate spirit, revolted
and separated from God, doth naturally pro-
ject and work division. This was his first
exploit, and it is still his grand design and
business in the world. He first divided man
from God; put them at an enmity by the first
sin of our first parents; and the next we read
of in their first child, was enmity against his
brother. So, Satan is called by our Savior,
justly, a liar and a murderer from the begin-
ning, John viii. 44: he murdered man by ly-
ing, and made him a murderer.
And as the devil's work is division, Christ’s
work is union. He came to dissolve the works
of the devil, tvaxſon, by a contrary work, 1 John
iii. 8. He came to make all friends; to re-
collect and reunite all men to God, and man
to man. And both those unions hold in him
by virtue of that marvellous union of natures
in his person, and that mysterious union of
the persons of believers with him as their
head. So the word, évakºaxatógagóat, signifies,
Eph. i. 10, To unite all in one head.
This was his great project in all; this he
died and suffered for, and this he prayed for,
John xvii.; and this is strong above all ties,
natural or civil, union in Christ. This they
have who are indeed Christians; this they
would pretend to have, if they understood it,
who profess themselves Christians. If natural
friendship be capable of that expression, one
spirit ºn two bodies, Christian union hath it
much more really and properly ; for there is,
indeed, one spirit more extensive in all the
faithful, yea, so one a spirit, that it makes
them up into one body more extensive. They
are not so much as divers bodies, only divers
members of one body.
Now, this love of our brethren is not an-
other from the love of God; it is but the
streaming forth of it, or the reflection of it.
Jesus Christ sending his spirit into the heart,
unites it to God, in himself by love, which is
indeed all, that loving of God supremely and
entirely, with all the mind and soul, all the
combined strength of the heart And then,
that same love, first wholly carried to him, is
not divided or impaired by the love of our
brethren, but is dilated, as derived from the
other. God allows, yea, commands, yea,
causes, that it stream forth, and act itself
toward them, remaining still in him, as in
its source and centre; beginning at him, and
returning to him, as the beams that diffuse
themselves from the sun, and the light and
heat, yet are not divided or cut off from it,
but remain in it, and, by emanation, issue
from it. In loving our brethren in God, and
for him, not only because he commands us to
love them, and so the law of love to him ties
us to it, as his will ; but because that love of
God doth naturally extend itself thus, and act
thus; in loving our brethren after a spiritual,
Christian manner, we do, even in that, love
our God.
Loving of God makes us one with God, and
so gives us an impression of his Divine bount
in his Spirit. And his love, the proper .
of his Spirit, dwelling in the heart, enlarges
and dilates it, as self-love contracts and strait-
ens it: so that as self-love is the perfect op-
posite to the love of God, it is likewise so to
brotherly love; it shuts out and undoes both ;
and where the love of God is rekindled and
enters the heart, it destroys and burns up self-
love, and so carries the affection up to himself,
and in him forth to our brethren.
This is that bitter root of all enmity in man
against God, and, among men, against one
another, self, man's heart turned from God
toward himself; and the very work of re-
newing grace is, to annul and destroy self, to
replace God in his right, that the heart, and
all its affections and motions, may be at his
disposal; so that, instead of self-will and self.
love, which ruled before, now, the will of God,
and the love of God, command all.
And where it is thus, there this fixačexpia,
this love of our brethren, will be sincere.
Whence is it that wars, and contests, and
mutual disgracings and despisings, do so
much abound, but that men love themselves,
and nothing but themselves, or in relation to
themselves, as it pleases, or is advantageous
to them 2 That is the standard and rule.
All is carried by interest, so thence are strifes,
and defamings, and bitterness against one
another. But the Spirit of Christ coming in,
WER. 8.]
305
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
undoes all selfishness. And now, what is
according to God, what he wills and loves,
that is law, and a powerful law, so written
on the heart, this law of love, that it obeys,
not unpleasantly, but with delight, and knows
no constraint but the sweet constraint of love.
To forgive a wrong, to love even thine enemy
for him, is not only feasible now, but delecta-
ble, although a little while ago thou thoughtest
it was quite impossible.
That Spirit of Christ, which is all sweet-
ness and love, so calms and composes the
heart, that peace with God, and that unspeak-
ably blessed correspondence of love with him,
do so fill the soul with lovingness and sweet-
ness, that it can breathe nothing else. It hates
nothing but sin, it pities the sinner, and car-
ries toward the worst that love of good will,
desiring their return and salvation. But as
for those in whom appears the image of their
Father, their heart cleaves to them as breth-
ren indeed. No natural advantages of birth,
of beauty, or of wit, draw a Christian's love
so much, as the resemblance of Christ; wher-
ever that is found, it is comely and lovely to
a soul that loves him.
Much communion with God sweetens and
calms the mind, cures the distempers of pas-
sion and pride, which are the avowed enemies
of love. Particularly, prayer and love suit
well.
(1.) Prayer disposes to this love. He that
loveth not, knoweth not God, saith the beloved
apostle, for God is love. 1 John iv. 3. He
that is most conversant with love in the spring
of it, where it is purest and fullest, can not
but have the fullest measure of it, flowing in
thence into his heart, and flowing forth thence
unto his brethren. If they who use the society
of mild and good men, are insensibly assimi-
lated to them, grow like them, and contract
somewhat of their temper; much more doth
familiar walking with God powerfully trans-
form the soul into this likeness, making it mer-
ciful, and loving, and ready to forgive, as he is.
(2.) This love disposes to prayer. To pray
together, hearts must be consorted and tuned
together ; otherwise, how can they sound
the same suits harmoniously 2 How un-
pleasant, in the exquisite ear of God, who
made the ear, are the jarring, disunited hearts
that often seem to join in the same prayer,
and yet are not set together in love! And
when thou prayest alone, while thy heart is
imbittered and disaffected to thy brother, al-
though upon an offence done to thee, it is as
a mistuned instrument; the strings are not
accorded, are not in tune among themselves,
and so the sound is harsh and offensive. Try
it well thyself, and thou wilt perceive it ;
how much more he to whom thou prayest
When thou art stirred and in passion against
thy brother, or not, on the contrary, lovingly
affected toward him, what broken, disorder-
ed, unfastened stuff are thy requests | There-
fore the Lord will have this done first, the
heart tuned : Go thy way, says he, leave thy
gift, and be reconciled to thy brother; then
come and offer thy gift. Matt, v. 23.
Why is this which is so much recommend-
ed by Christ, so little regarded by Christians?
It is given by him as the characteristic and
badge of his followers; yet, of those who
pretend to be so, how few wear it ! Oh a
little real Christianity were more worth than
all that empty profession and discourse, that
we think so much of Hearts receiving the
mould and stamp of this rule, these were liv-
ing copies of the gospel. Ye are our epistle,
says the apostle, 2 Cor. iii. 2. We come to-
gether, and hear, and speak, sometimes of
one grace, and sometimes of another, while
yet the most never seek to have their hearts
enriched with the possession of any one of
them. We search not to the bottom the
perverseness of our nature, and the guilti-
ness that is upon us in these things; or we
shift off the conviction, and find a way to for-
get it when the hour is done.
That accursed root, self-love, which makes
man an enemy to God, and men enemies and
devourers one of another, who sets to the dis-
covery and the displanting of it 2 Who bends
the force of holy endeavors and prayer, sup-
plicating the hand of God for the plucking
of it up 2 Some natures are quieter and
make less noise, but till the heart be posses-
sed with the love of God, it shall never truly
love either men in the way due to all, or the
children of God in their peculiar relation.
Among yourselves, &c.] That is here the
point: the peculiar love of the saints as thy
brethren, glorying and rejoicing in the same
Father, the sons of God begotten again to
that lively hope of glory. Now these, as
they owe a bountiful disposition to all, are
mutually to love one another as brethren.
Thou that hatest and reproachest the god-
ly, and the more they study to walk as the
children of their holy Father, hatest them
the more, and art glad to find a spot on them.
to point at, or wilt dash mire on them where
thou findest none, know that thou art in this.
the enemy of God; know that the indignity
done to them, Jesus Christ will take as done
to himself. Truly, we know that we have
passed from death unto life, because we love
the brethren : he that loveth not his brother,
abideth in death. 1 John iii. 4. So then,
renounce this word, or else believe that thou
art yet far from the life of Christ, who so
hatest it in others. Oh but they are but a
number of hypocrites wilt thou say. If they
be so, this declares so much the more thy ex-
treme hatred of holiness, that thou canst not
endure so much as the picture of it; canst
not see anything like it, but thou must let fly
at it. And this argues thy deep hatred of
God. Holiness in a Christian is the image
of God, and the hypocrite, in the resemblance
of it, is the image of a Christian ; so that thou.
hatest the very image of the image of God.
For, deceive not thyself, it is not the latent
evil in hypocrisy, but the apparent good unit
39
306
[CHAY. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
that thouhatest. The profaneman thinks him-
self a great zealot against hypocrisy ; he is
still exclaiming against it ; but it is only this
he is angry at, that all should not be ungod-
ly, the wicked enemies of religion, as he is,
either dissolute, or merely decent. And the
decent man is frequently the bitterest enemy
of all strictness beyond his own size, as con-
demning him, and therefore he cries it down,
as all of it false and counterfeit wares.
Let me entreat you, if you would not be
found fighters against God, let no revilings
be heard among you, against any who are,
or seem to be, followers of holiness. If you
will not reverence it yourselves, yet rever-
ence it in others; at least, do not reproach it.
It should be your ambition, else, why are
you willing to be called Christians? But if
you will not pursue holiness, yet persecute it
not. If you will not have fervent love to the
saints, yet burn not with infernal heat of fer-
vent hatred against them ; for truly, that is
one of the most likely pledges of those flames,
and of society with damned spirits, as love
to the children of God is, of that inheritance
and society with them in glory.
You that are brethren, and united by that
purest and strongest tie, as you are one in
your Head, in your life derived from him, in
your hopes of glory with him, seek to be
more one in heart, in fervent love one to an-
other in him. Consider the combinations
and concurrences of the wicked against him
and his little flock, and let this provoke you
to more united affection. Shall the scales
of Leviathan (as one alludes) stick so close
together, and shall not the members of Christ
be more one and undivided ? You that can
feel it, stir up yourselves to bewail the pres-
ent divisions, and the ſears of more. Sue
earnestly for that one Spirit, to act and work
more powerfully in the hearts of his people.
II. Consider the eminent degree of this love.
1. Its eminency among the graces, above all.
2. The high measure of it required, fervent
love ſekrevil, a high bent, or strain of it; that
which acts strongly, and carries far.
1. It is eminent, that which indeed among
Christians preserves all, and knits all togeth-
er, and therefore called, Colos. iii. 14, the
bond of perfection : all is bound up by it.
How can they pray together, how advance
the name of their God, or keep in and stir
up all grace in one another, unless they be
united in love 2 How can they have access
to God, or fellowship with him who is love,
as St John speaks, if, instead of this sweet
temper, there be rancor and bitterness among
them 2 So then, uncharitableness and divis-
ions among Christians, do not only hinder
their civil good, but their spiritual much
more; and that not only lucro cessante (as
they speak), interrupting the ways of mutual
rofiting, but damno emergente, it doth real-
y damage them, and brings them to losses;
preys upon their graces, as hot withering
winds on herbs and plants. Where the heart
entertains either bitter malice, or but unchar-
itable prejudices, there will be a certain de-
cay of spirituality in the whole soul.
2. Again, for the degree of this love re-
quired, it is not a cold indifferency, a negative
love, as I may call it, or a not willing of evil,
nor is it a lukewarm wishing of good, but
fervent and active love ; for, if fervent, it will
be active, a fire that will not be smothered,
but will find a way to extend itself.
III. The fruits of this love follow. 1. Cov-
ering of evil, in this verse. 2. Doing of good,
ver. 9, &c.
Charity shall cover the multitude of sins.]
This expression is taken from Solomon, Prov.
x. 12; and as covering sins is represented as
a main act of love, so love is commended by
it, this being a most useful and laudable act
of it, that it covers sins, and a multitude of
sins. Solomon saith (and the opposition clears
the sense), Hatred stirreth up strife, aggra-
vates and makes the worst of all, but love cov-
ereth all sins : it delights not in the undue dis-
closing of brethren's failings, doth not eye
them rigidly, nor expose them willingly to
the eyes of others.
Now this recommends charity, in regard
of its continual usefulness and necessity this
way, considering human frailty, and that in
many things, as St. James speaks, we all of
fend, James iii. 2; so that this is still need-
ful on all hands. What do they think who
are still picking at every appearing infirmity
of their brethren : Know they not that the
frailties that cleave to the saints of God while
they are here, do stand in need of, and call
for, this mutual office of love, to cover and
pass them by ? Who is there that stands not
in need of this 2 If none, why are there any
who deny it to others ? There can be no so-
ciety nor entertaining of Christian converse
without it, without giving (as we speak) al-
lowance; reckoning to meet with defects and
weaknesses on all hands, and covering the
failings of one another, seeing it is mutually
needful.
Again, as the necessity of this commends
it and the love whence it flows, so there is
that laudable ingenuousness in it that should
draw us to the liking of it. It is the bent of
the basest and most worthless spirits, to be
busy in the search and discovery of others'
failings, passing by all that is commendable
and imitable, as base flies readily sitting on
any little sore they can find, rather than upon
the sound parts. But the more excellent mind
of a real Christian loves not unnecessarily to
touch, no, nor to look upon them, but rather
turns away. Such never uncover their broth-
er's sores, but to cure them ; and no more than
is necessary for that end: they would willing-
ly have them hid, that neither they nor others
might see them. -
This bars not the judicial trial of scanda-
lous offences, nor the giving information of
them, and bringing them under due censure.
The forbearing of this is not charity, but both
WER. 8.]
307
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
iniquity and cruelty ; and this cleaves too
much to many of us. They that can not pass
over the least touch of a wrong done to them-
selves, can digest twenty high injuries done
to God by profane persons about them, and
resent it not. Such may be assured that they
are as yet destitute of love to God, and of
Christian love to their brethren, which springs
from it.
The uncovering of sin, necessary to the
curing of it, is not only no breach of charity,
but is indeed a main point of it, and the neg-
lect of it the highest kind of cruelty. But fur-
ther than that goes, certainly, this rule teach-
es the veiling of our brethren's infirmities
from the eyes of others, and even from our
own, that we look not on them with rigor;
no, nor.without compassion.
1. Love is skilful in finding out the fairest
construction of things doubtful; and this is a
great point. Take me the best action that
can be named, pride and malice shall find a
Way to disgrace it, and put a hard visage up-
On it. Again, what is not undeniably evil,
love will turn it in all the ways of viewing it,
till it find the best and most favorable.
2. Where the thing is so plainly a sin, that
this way of covering it can have no place, yet
then will love consider what may lessen it
most ; whether a surprise, or strength of
temptation, or ignorance (as our Savior, Fa-
ther, forgive them, for they know not what
they do), or natural complexion, or at least
will still take in human frailty, to turn all
the bitterness of passion into sweet compas-
SłOſl.
3. All private reproofs, and where con-
science requires public accusation and cen-
Sure, even these will be sweetened in that
compassion that flows from love. If it be
such a sore as must not lie covered up, lest it
prove deadly, so that it must be uncovered, to
be lanced and cut, that it may be cured, still
this is to be done as loving the soul of the
brother. Where the rule of conscience urges
it not, then thou must bury it, and be so far
from delighting to divulge such things, that,
as far as without partaking in it, thou mayest,
thou must veil it from all eyes, and try the
way of private admonition ; and if the party
. to be humble and willing to be re-
claimed, then forget it, cast it quite out of thy
thoughts, that, as much as may be, thou
mayest learn to forget it more. But this, I
Say, is to be done with the tenderest bowels
of piety, feeling the cuts thou art forced to
give in that necessary incision, and using
mildness and patience. Thus the apostle in.
structs his Timothy: Reprove, rebuke, eachort,
but do it with long-suffering, with all long-
suffering. 2 Tim. iv. 2. And even them that
9ppose, instruct, says he, with meekness, if
God, peradventure will give them repentance
to, the acknowledging of the truth. 2 Tim-
othy ii. 25. * -
4. If thou be interested in the offence, even
by unfeigned free forgiveness, so far as thy
concern goes, let it be as if it had not been.
And though thou meet with many of these,
charity will gain and grow by such occasions,
and the more it hath covered, the more it can
cover: cover a multitude, says our apostle,
covers all sins, says Solomon. Yea, though
thou be often put to it by the same party,
what made thee forgive once, well improved,
will stretch our Savior's rule to seventy times
seven times in one day. Matt. xviii. 21.
And truly in this men mistake grossly who
think it is greatness of spirit to resent wrongs,
and baseness to forgive them : on the contra-
ry, it is the only excellent spirit scarcely to
feel a wrong, or, feeling, straightly to forgive
it. It is the greatest and best of spirits that
enables to this, the Spirit of God, that dove-
like Spirit which rested on our Lord Jesus,
and which from him is derived to all that are
in him. I pray you, think, is it not a token
of a tender and sickly body, to be altered with
every touch from every blast it meets with ?
And thus is it a sign of a poor, weak, sickly
spirit, to endure nothing, to be distempered
at the least air of an injury, yea, with the
very fancy of it, where there is really none.
Inf. 1. Learn then to beware of those evils
that are contrary to this charity. Do not dis-
pute with yourselves in rigid remarks and
censures, when the matter will bear any bet-
ter SenSe.
2dly. Do not delight in tearing a wound
wider, and stretching a real failing to the ut-
In OSt.
3dly. In handling of it, study gentleness,
pity, and meekness. These will advance the
cure, whereas the flying out into passion
against thy fallen brother, will prove nothing
but as the putting of thy nail into the sore,
that will readily rankle it and make it worse.
Even sin may be sinfully reproved : and how
thinkest thou that sin shall redress sin, and
restore the sinner 2
There is a great deal of spiritual art and
skill in dealing with another's sin: it requires
much spirituality of mind, and much pru-
dence, and much love, a mind clear from pas-
sion ; for that blinds the eye, and makes the
hand rough, so that a man neither rightly
sees, nor rightly handles the sore he goes
about to cure ; and many are lost through the
ignorance and neglect of that due temper
which is to be brought to this work. Men
think otherwise, that their rigors are much
spirituality; but they mistake it. Brethren,
if a man be overlaken in a fault, ye which are
spiritual, restore such a one in the spirit of
meekness, considering thyself, lest thou also
be tempted. Gal. vi. 1.
4thly. For thyself, as an offence touches
thee, learn to delight as much in that Divine
way of forgiveness, as carnal minds do in that
base, inhuman way of revenge. . It is not, as
they judge, a glory to bluster and swagger for
everything, but the glory of a man to pass by
a transgression. Prov. xix. 11. This makes
him Godlike. And consider, thou often that:
308
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
love which covers all thine, that blood which
was shed to wash off thy guilt. Needs any
more be said to gain all in this that can be re-
quired of thee ?
Now, the other fruit of love, doing good,
is first expressed in one particular, verse 9,
and then dilated to a general rule, at verse 20.
VER. 9. Use hospitality one to another, without
grudging.
HospitaLITY, or kindness to strangers, is
mentioned here as an important fruit of love,
it being, in those times and places, in much
use in travel, and particularly needful often
among Christians one to another then, by
reason of hot and general persecutions. But
under this name, I conceive all other supply
of the wants of our brethren in outward things
to be here comprehended.
Now, for this, the way and measure indeed
must receive its proportion from the estate
and ability of persons. But certainly, the
great straitening of hands in these things, is
more from the straitness of hearts, than of
means. A large heart, with a little estate,
will do much with cheerfulness and little
noise, while hearts glued to the poor riches
they possess, or rather are possessed by, can
scarcely part with anything till they be pulled
from all.
Now, for the supplying of our brethren's
necessities, one good help is, the retrenching
of our own superfluities. Turn the stream
into that channel where it will refresh thy
brethren and enrich thyself, and let it not run
into the dead sea. Thy vain excessive enter-
tainments, the gaudy variety of dresses, these
thou dost not challenge, thinking it is of thine
own ; but know (as it follows, wer. 10), thou
art but steward of it, and this is not faithfully
laying out ; thou canst not answer for it. Yea,
it is robbery; thou robbest thy poor brethren
who want necessaries, while thou lavishest
thus on unnecessaries. Such a feast, such a
suit of apparel, is direct robbery in the Lord's
eye ; and the poor may cry, “That is mine
that you cast away so vainly, by which both
I and you might be profited.” Withhold not
good from them to whom it is due, when it is
in the power of thy hand to do it. Proverbs
iii. 27, 28.
Without grudging.] Some look to the ac-
tions, but few to the intention and posture of
mind in them ; and yet that is the main : it is
all, indeed, even with men, so far as they can
perceive it, much more with thy Lord, who
always perceives it to the full. He delights
in the good he does his creatures, and would
have them be so affected to one another ; es-
pecially he would have his children bear this
trait of his likeness. See, then, when thou
givest alms, or entertainest a stranger, that
there be nothing either of under-grumbling,
or crooked self-seeking in it. Let the left
hand have no hand in it, nor so much as know
of it, as our Savior directs, Matt. vi. 3. Let
it not be to please men, or to please thyself,
or simply out of a natural pity, or from the
consideration of thy own possible incidency
into the like case, which many think very
well, if they be so moved; but here is a high-
er principle moving thee, love to God, and to
thy brother in and for him. This will make
it cheerful and pleasant to thyself, and well-
pleasing to Him for whom thou dost it. We
lose much in actions, in themselves good,
both of piety and charity, through disregard
of our hearts in them ; and nothing will pre-
vail with us to be more intent this way, to look
more on our hearts, but this, to look more on
him who looks on them, and judges, and ac-
cepts all according to them.
Though all the sins of former ages gather
and fall into the latter times, this is pointed
out as the grand evil, uncharitableness. The
Apostle St. Paul tells us, 2 Tim. iii. 2, that in
the last days men shall be covetous, slanderous,
lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God—
but how 2 Whence all this confluence of
evils 2 The spring of all is put first, and that
is the direct opposite of Christian love: men
shall be [ºavrot) lovers of themselves. This
is what kills the love of God, and the love of
our brethren, and kindles that infernal fire of
love to please themselves: riches make men
Voluptuous and covetous, &c. Truly, what-
soever become of men's curious computations
of times, this wretched selfishness and decay
of love may save us the labor of much chro-
nological debate in this, and lead us, from
this certain character of them, to conclude
these to be the latter times, in a very strict
sense. All other sins are come down along,
and run combined now with this ; but truly,
uncharitableness is the main one. As old age
is a rendezvous or meeting-place of maladies,
but is especially subject to cold diseases, thus
is it in the old age of the world : many sins
abound, but especially coldness of love, as
our Savior foretells it, that in the last days the
love of many shall war cold. Matt. xxiv. 12.
As the disease of the youth of the world was,
the abounding of lust (Gen. vi.), so that of its
age is, decay of love. And as that heat called
for a total deluge of waters, so this coldness
calls for fire, the kindling of a universal fire,
that shall make an end of it and the world
together. Aqua propter ardorem libidinis,
ignis propter teporem charitatis: Water be-
cause of the heat of lust, fire because of the
coldness of charity.
But they alone are the hº men, and have
the advantage of all the world, in whom the
world is burnt up beforehand, by another fire,
that Divine fire of the love of God, kindled in
their hearts, by which they ascend up to him,
and are reflected from him upon their brethren,
with a benign heat and influence for their
good. Oh ! be unsatisfied with yourselves,
and restless till you find it thus, till you find
your hearts possessed of this excellent grace
of love, that you may have it, and use it, and
it may grow by using and acting. I could,
methinks, heartily study on this, and weary
WER. 10.]
309
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
you with the reiterated pressing of this one
thing, if there were hopes, in so wearying
you, to weary you out of those evils that are
contrary to it, and in pressing this grace, to
make any real impression of it upon your
hearts. Besides all the further good that
follows it, there is in this love itself so much
peace and sweetness, as abundantly pays
itself, and all the labor of it; whereas pride
and malice do fill the heart with continual
vexations and disquiet, and eat out the very
bowels wherein they breed. Aspire to this,
to be wholly bent, not only to procure or
desire hurt to none, but to wish and seek the
good of all: and as for those that are in Christ,
Surely, that will unite thy heart to them, and
stir thee up, according to thy opportunities
and power, to do them good, as parts of Christ,
and of the same body with thyself.
VER. 10. As every man hath received the giſt, even
so minister the same one to another, as good
stewards of the manifold grace of God.
THIS is the rule concerning the gifts and
graces bestowed on men. And we have here,
1. Their difference in their kind and measure.
2. Their concordance in their source and use.
1. Their difference in their kind and mea-
sure is expressed in the first clause, As every
one hath received ; then, again, in the last
clause, [Totkiänlyāpts, various or manifold grace;
where xúpts grace, is all one with the former,
xáotapa, gift, and is taken at large for all kind
of endowments and furniture by which men
are enabled for mutual good. One man hath
riches, another, authority and command,
another, wit or eloquence, or learning ; and
some, though eminent in some one, yet have
a fuller conjuncture of divers of these. We
find not more difference in visages and statures
of body, than in qualifications and abilities of
mind, which are the visage and stature of it,
yea, the odds is far greater between man and
man in this, than it can be in the other.
2. Now, this difference accords well with
the accordance here expressed in their com-
mon spring and common use. For the variety
of these many gifts suits well with the singular
riches and wisdom of their one Giver, and
with the common advantage and benefit of
the many receivers. And in the usefulness
of that variety to the receivers shine forth the
bounty and wisdom of the Giver in so order-
ing all that diversity to one excellent end.
So this TouriNm Xépts, manifold grace, here, com-
mends that Toxviroix)\o; copia, manifold wisdom,
that the apostle speaks of, Eph. iii. 10.
There is such an admirable beauty in this
Variety, such a symmetry and contemperature
of different, yea, of contrary qualities, as speaks
his riches, that so divers gifts are from the
same Spirit; a kind of embroidering,” of many
colors happily mixed, as the word rotºx\eiv
signifies: as it is in the frame of the natural
body of man, that lesser world, and in the
composition of the greater world, thus it is in
* The psalmist's word applied to the body. Psalm
cxxxix. 12.
the church of God, the mystical body of Jesus
Christ, exceeding both in excellency and
beauty.
And as there is such art in this contrivance,
and such comeliness in the resulting frame,
so it is no less useful. And this chiefly com-
mends the thing itself, and the supreme wis-
dom ordering it, that, as in the body each
part hath not only its place for proportion and
order, but its several use; and as in the world
each part is beneficial to another, so here,
every man's gift relates, and is fitted to some
use for the good of others.
Infer. 1. The first thing which meets us
here, it is very useful to know, that all is re-
ceived, and received of gift, of most free gift :
so the words do carry. Now this should most
reasonably check all murmuring in those who
receive least, and all insulting in those that
receive most. Whatever it is, do not repine;
but praise, how little soever it is, for it is a
free gift. Again, how much soever it is, be
ºnot high-minded, but fear ; boast not thyself,
but humbly bless thy Lord. For if thou
didst receive it, why dost thou boast, as if thou
hadst not received it 2 1 Cor. iv. 7.
Inf. 2. Every man hath received some gift,
no man all gifts; and this, rightly considered,
would keep all in a more even temper. As,
in nature, nothing is altogether useless, so
nothing is self-sufficient. This should keep
the meanest from repiming and discontent:
He that hath the lowest rank in most respects,
yet something he hath received, that is not
only a good to himself, but, rightly improved,
may be so to others likewise. And this will
curb the loftiness of the most highly privile-
ged, and teach them, not only to see some
deficiencies in themselves, and some gifts in
far meaner persons, which they want, but,
besides the simple discovery of this, it will
put them upon the use of what is in lower
persons; not only to stoop to the acknowledg-
ment, but even, withal, to the participation
and benefit of it; not to trample upon all that
is below them, but to take up and use things
useful, though lying at their feet. Some
flowers and herbs, that grow very low, are
of a very fragrant smell and healthful use.
Thou that carriest it so high, losest much
by it. Many poor Christians whom thou
despisest to make use of, may have that in
them which might be very useful for thee;
but thou overlookest it, and treadest on it.
St. Paul acknowledgeth he was comforted by
the coming of Titus, though far inferior to
him. Sometimes, a very mean, unlettered
Christian may speak more profitably and
comfortably, even to a knowing, learned man,
than multitudes of his own best thoughts can
do, especially in a time of weakness and dark-
IleSS.
Inf. 3. As all is received and with that dif-
ference, so the third thing is, that all is re-
ceived to minister to each other, and mutual
benefit is the true use of all, suiting the mind
of him who dispenses all, and the way of his
310
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
dispensation. Thou art not proprietary lord
of anything thou hast, but itkóvopos, a steward ;
and therefore oughtest gladly to be a good
steward, that is both faithful and prudent in
thy intrusted gifts, using all thou hast to the
good of the household, and so to the advan-
tage of thy Lord and Master. Hast thou
abilities of estate, or body or mind 2 Let all
be thus employed. Thinkest thou that thy
wealth, or power, or wit, is thine, to do with
as thou wilt, to engross to thyself, either to
retain useless or to use: to hoard and wrap
up, or to lavish out, according as thy humor
leads thee ? No, all is given as to a steward,
wisely and faithfully to lay up and lay out.
Not only thy outward and common gifts of
mind, but even saving grace, which seems
most intrusted and appropriated for thy pri-
wate good, yet is not wholly for that: even
thy graces are for the good of thy brethren.
Oh, that we would consider this in all, and
look back and mourn on the fruitlessness of
all that hath been in our hand all our life
hitherto ' If it has not been wholly fruitless,
}. how far short of that fruit we might have
brought forth ! Any little thing done by us
looks big in our eye; we view it through a
magnifying glass; but who may not complain
that their means, and health, and opportu-
nities of several kinds, of doing for God and
for our brethren, have lain dead upon their
hands, in a great part 2 As Christians are
defective in other duties of love, so most in
that most important duty, of advancing the
spiritual good of each other. Even they who
have grace, do not duly use it to mutual edi-
fication. I desire none to leap over the
bounds of their calling, or the rules of Chris-
tian prudence in their converse; yea, this
were much to be blamed ; but I fear lest un-
wary hands, throwing on water to guench
that evil, have let some of it fall aside upon
those sparks that should rather have been
stirred and blown up.
Neither should the disproportion of gifts
and graces hinder Christians to minister one
to another: it should neither move the weaker
to envy the stronger, nor the stronger to de-
spise the weaker; but each, in his place, is
to be serviceable to the others, as the apos-
tle excellently presses, by that most fit re-
semblance of the parts of the body. As
the foot says not, Why am I not the eye or
the head, the head can not say of the foot, I
have no need of thee. 1 Cor. xii. 15, 21.
There is no envy, no despising in the natural
body. Oh, the pity there should be so much
in the mystical Were we more spiritual,
less of this would be found. In the mean-
time, Oh, that we were more agreeable to
that happy estate we look for, in our present
aspect and carriage one toward another
Though all the graces of the Spirit exist, in
some measure, where there is one, yet not
all in a like measure. One Christian is more
eminent in meekness, another in humility, a
third in zeal, &c. Now, by their spiritual
converse one with another, each may be a
gainer; and in many ways maw a private
Christian promote the good of others with
whom he lives, by seasonable admonitions,
and advice, and reproof, sweetened with
meekness, but most by holy example, which
is the most lively and most effectual speech.
Thou that hast greater gifts hast more in-
trusted in thy hand, and therefore the greater
thy obligation to fidelity and diligence. Men
in great place and public services, ought to
stir themselves up by this thought to singu-
lar watchfulness and zeal. And in private
converse one with another, we ought to be do-
ing and receiving spiritual good. Are we not
strangers here? Is it not strange that we so
often meet and part, without a word of our
home, or the way to it, or our advance tow-
ard it 2 Christians should be trading one
with another in spiritual things; and he,
surely, who faithfully uses most, receives
most. This is comprehended under that
word: To him that hath (i. e. possesses ac-
tively and usefully), shall be given ; and
from him that hath not (i.e. uses not), shall
be taken away even that which he hath. Matt.
xxv. 29. Merchants can feel in their trading
a dead time, and complain seriously of it; but
Christians, in theirs, either can suffer it and
not see it, or see it and not complain, or, pos-
sibly, complain and yet not be deeply sensi-
ble of it.
Certainly, it can not be sufficiently regret-
ted, that we are so fruitless in the Lord's
work in this kind, that when we are alone
we study it not more, nor seek it more by
prayer, to know the true use of all we re-
ceive, and that we do not in society endeavor
it accordingly ; but we trifle out our time,
and instead of the commerce of grace to our
mutual enriching, we trade in vanity, and
are, as it were, children exchanging shells
and toys together.
This surely will hie heavy upon the con-
science when we reflect on it, and shall come
near the utter brink of time, looking forward
on eternity, and then looking back to our
days, so vainly wasted, and worn out to so
little purpose. Oh let us awake, awake
ourselves and one another, to more fruitful-
ness and faithfulness, whatsoever be our re-
ceived measure, less or more.
Be not discouraged : to have little in the
account shall be no prejudice. The appro-
bation runs not, Thou hast much, but, on the
contrary, Thou hast been faithful in little.
Great faithfulness in the use of small gifts
hath great acceptance, and a great and sure
reward. Great receipts engage to greater
returns, and therefore require the greater
diligence; and that not only for the increase
of grace within, but for the assistance of it
in others. Retired contemplation may be
more pleasing, but due activity for God and
nus church is more profitable. Rachel was
fair, but she was barren; Leah blear-eyed,
but fruitful.
VER. 11.]
311
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
VER. 11. If any man speak, let him speak as the ora-
cles of God; if any man minister, let him do it as
of the ability which God giveth; that God in all
things may be glorified through Jesus Christ; to
whom be praise and dominion for ever and ever.
Amen.
EveRy part of the body of Christ, as it par-
takes of life with the rest, so it impartsser-
vice to the rest. But there be some more em-
inent, and, as I may say, organic parts of this
body, and these are more eminently useful to
the whole. Therefore the apostle, having
enlarged into a general precept, adds a word
in special reference to these special parts, the
preachers of the word, and (which here I
conceive is meant by deacons or ministers)
ºther assistant officers of the church of
God.
These are co-ordained by Jesus Christ, as
Lord of his own house, to be serviceable to
him in it. He fits and sanctifies for this great
work, all who are called unto it by himself.
And they are directed for the acquitting of
their great work, I. By a clear rule of the
due manner. II. By the main end of its ap-
pointment.
I. Particular rules for the preaching of the
word may be many, but this is a most com-
prehensive one which the apostle gives: If
any man speak, let him speak as the oracles
of God. It is clear from the rule, what
speaking is regulated, and for brevity it is
once expressed. If any man speak the ora-
cles of God, let him speak them like them-
selves, as the oracles of God.
It is a chief thing in all serious actions, to
take the nature of them aright: for this
mainly regulates them, and directs in their
performance. And this especially should be
regarded in those things that are of highest
Worth and greatest weight, in spiritual em-
ployments, wherein it is most dangerous,
and yet with us most ordinary, to mistake
and miscarry. Were prayer considered as
presence and speech with the great God, the
King of Glory, Oh, how would this mould
the mind ' What a watchful, holy, and hum-
ble deportment would it teach . So that,
truly, all directions for prayer might be sum-
med up, after this same model, in this one,
If any man pray, let him speak as speaking
with God ; just as here for preaching, If any
man speak in that way, let him do it as
speaking from God, that is, as the oracles of
God tâder this, all the due qualifications
of this holy work are comprised. I shall
name but these three, which are primary,
and others may be easily reduced to these:
1. Faithfully. 2. Holily. , 3. Wisely.
1. In the first, fidelity, it is supposed that
a man should have a competent insight and
knowledge in these divine oracles, that first
he learn before he teach ; which many of us
do not, though we pass through the schools
and classes, and through the books too,
wherein these things are taught, and bring
with us some provision, such as may be had
there. He that would faithfully teach of
God, must be taught of God, be 0sočičakrºs,
God-learned ; and this will help to all the
rest: will help him to be faithful in deliver-
ing the message as he receives it, not de-
tracting, or adding, or altering ; and as in
setting forth that in general truths, so in the
particular setting them home, declaring to
his people their sins, and God's judgments
following sin, especially in his own people.
2. A minister must speak holily, with that
high esteem and reverence of the Great
Majesty whose message he carries, that be-
comes the divinity of the message itself, those
deep mysteries that no created spirits are
able to fathom. Oh this would make us
tremble in the dispensing of these oracles,
considering our impurities, and weaknesses,
and unspeakable disproportion to so high a
task. He had reason who said, “I am seized
with amazement and horror as often as I be-
gin to speak of God.” And with this hum-
ble reverence is to be joined, ardent love to
Our Lord, to his truth, to his glory, and to his
people's souls. These holy affections stand
opposite to our blind boldness in rushing on
this sublime exercise as a common work, and
our dead coldness in speaking of things
which our hearts are not warmed with ; and
so no wonder what we say seldom reaches
further than the ear, or, at furthest, than the
understanding and memory of our hearers.
There is a correspondence; it is the heart
speaks to the heart, and the understanding
and memory the same, and the tongue speaks
but to the ear. Further, this holy temper
shuts out all private passion in delivering
divine truths. It is a high profaning of his
name and holy things, to make them speak
our private pleas and quarrels; yea, to re-
prove sin after this manner is a heinous sin.
To fly out into invectives, which, though not
expressed so, yet are aimed as blows of self-
revenge for injuries done to us, or fancied by
us, this is to wind and draw the holy word
of God to serve our unholy distempers, and
to make it speak, not his meaning, but our
own. Surely, this is not to speak as the ora-
cles of God, but basely to abuse the word, as
imposters in religion of old did their images,
speaking behind them, and through them,
what might make for their advantage. It is
true that the word is to be particularly ap-
plied to reprove most the particular sins
which most abound among a people ; but
this is to be done, not in anger, but in love.
3. The word is to be spoken wisely. By
this I mean, in the way of delivering it, that
it be done gravely and decently ; that light
expressions, and affected flourishes, and un-
seemly gestures, be avoided: and that there
be a sweet contemperature of authority and
mildness. But who is sufficient for these
things?
Now, you that hear should certainly meet
and agree in this too. If any hear, let him.
hear as the oracles of God ; not as a well-
turned sound, to help you to sleep an hour
312
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
not as a human speech or oration, to displease
or please you for an hour, according to the
suiting of its strain and your palate; not as
a school lesson, to add somewhat to your
stock of knowledge, to tell you somewhat
you knew not before, or as a feast of new no-
tions. Thus the most relish a preacher,
while they try his gift, and it is new with
them, but a little time disgusts them. But
hear as the oracles of God. The discovery
of sin and death lying on us, and the discov-
ery of a Savior, that takes these off; the
sweet word of reconciliation, God wooing
man ; the Great King entreating for peace
with a company of rebels—not that they are
too strong for him, oh! no, but, on the con-
trary, he could utterly destroy them in one
moment; these are the things brought you in
this word. Therefore come to it with suita-
ble reverence, with ardent desires, and hearts
open to receive it with meekness, as the in-
grafted word that is able to save your souls.
James i. 21. It were well worth one day's
aims of speaking and hearing, that we could
earn somewhat, at least, how to speak and
hear henceforward; to speak, and to hear,
as the oracles of God.
In the other rule, of ministering as of the
ability that God giveth, we may observe:
1. Ability, and that received from God; for
other ability there is none for any good work,
and least of all, for the peculiar ministration
of his spiritual affairs in his house. 2. The
using of this ability received from him for
them.
And this, truly, is a chief thing for minis-
ters, and for individual Christians, still to
depend on the influence and strength of God;
to do all his works in that strength. The
humblest Christian, how weak soever, is the
strongest. There is a natural wretched in-
dependency in us, that we would be the
authors of our own works, and do all without
him, without whom indeed we can do nothing.
Let us learn to go more out of ourselves, and
we shall find more strength for our duties, and
against our temptations. Faith's great work
is, to renounce self-power, and to bring in the
power of God to be ours. Happy they that
are weakest in themselves, sensibly so. That
word of the apostle is theirs; they know what
it means, though a riddle to the world: When
I am weak, then am I strong. 2 Cor. xii. 10.
Now,
II. The end of all this appointment is, that
in all God, may be glorified through Jesus
Christ. All meet in this, if they move in their
straight line: here concentre, not only these
two sorts specified in this verse, but all sorts
of persons that use aright any gift of God, as
they are generally comprehended in the for-
mer verse. For this end relates to all, as it
is expressed universally, that in all, in all
persons and all things; the word bears both,
and the thing itself extends to both.
Here we have, like that of the heavens, a
circular motion of all sanctified good: it comes
forth from God, through Christ, unto Chris-
tians, and moving in them to the mutual good
of each other, returns through Christ unto
God again, and takes them along with it, in
whom it was, and had its motion.
All persons and all things shall pay this
tribute, even they that most wickedly seek
to withhold it; but this is the happiness of
the Saints, that they move willingly thus, are
sweetly drawn, not forced or driven. They
are gained to seek and desire this, to set in
with God in the intention of the same end ;
to have the same purpose with him, his glory
in all, and to prosecute his end by his direc-
tion, by the means and ways he appoints
them.
This is his due, as God; and the declining
from this, the squinting from this view to
self-ends, especially in God’s own peculiar
work, is high treason. Yet, the base heart
of man leads naturally this way, to intend
himself in all, to raise his own esteem or
advantage in some way. And in this the
heart is so subtle, that it will deceive the
most discerning, if they be not constant in
suspecting and watching it. This is the great
task, to overcome in this point ; to have self
under our feet, and God only in our eye and
purpose in all.
It is most reasonable, his due as God the
author of all, not only of all supervenient
good, but even of being itself, seeing all is
from him, that all be for him : For of him,
and through him, and to him, are all things :
to whom be glory for ever. Amen. Rom.
xi. ult.
As it is most just, so it is also most sweet,
to aim in all at this, that God be glorified :
it is the alone worthy and happy design, which
fills the heart with heavenliness, and with a
heavenly calmness; sets it above the clouds
and storms of those passions which disquiet
low, self-seeking minds. He is a miserable,
unsettled wretch, who cleaves to himself and
forgets God; is perplexed about his credit,
and gain, and base ends, which are often bro-
ken, and which, when he attains, yet they
and he must shortly perish together. When
his estate, or designs, or any comforts fail,
how can he look to him at whom he looked
so little before ? May not the Lord say, Go
to the gods whom thou hast served, and let
them deliver and comfort thee : seek comfort
from thyself, as thou didst all for thyself?
What an appalment will this be!. But he
that hath resigned himself, and is all for God,
may say confidently, that the Lord is his por-
tion. This is the Christian's aim, to have
nothing in himself, nor in anything, but on
this tenure: all for the glory of my God,
my estate, family, abilities, my whole self,
.# I have and am. And as the love of God
grows in the heart, this purpose grows: the
higher the flame rises, the purer it is. . The
eye is daily more upon it; it is oftener in the
mind in all actions than before. In common
things, the very works of our callings, our
VER. 12, 13.]
313
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
very refreshments, to eat and drink, and sleep,
are all for this end, and with a particular aim
at it as much as may be ; even the thought
of it often renewed throughout the day, and
at times, generally applied to all our ways
and employments. It is this elixir that turns
thy ordinary works into gold, into sacrifices,
by the touch of it.
Through Jesus Christ.] The Christian in
covenant with God, receives all this way, and
returns all this way. And Christ possesses,
and hath equal right with the Father to this
ſº as he is equally the spring of it with
im, as God. But it is conveyed through
him as Mediator, who obtains all the grace
we receive: and all the glory we return, and
all our praise, as our spiritual sacrifice, is put
into his hand as our High-priest, to offer up
for us, that may be accepted.
Now the j, ardor of the apostle's affec-
tions, taken with the mention of this glory
of God, carries him to a dozology, as we term
it, a rendering of glory, in the middle of his
discourse. Thus often we find in St. Paul
likewise. Poor and short-lived is the glory
and grandeur of men; like themselves, it is
a shadow, and nothing ; but this is solid and
lasting, it is supreme, and abideth for ever.
And the apostles, full of divine affections, and
admiring nothing but God, do delight in this,
and can not refrain from this at any time in
their discourse: it is always sweet and season-
able, and they find it so. And thus are spirit-
ual minds : a word of this nature falls on them
as a spark on some matter that readily takes
fire; they are straight inflamed with it. But
alas ! to us how much is it otherwise ! The
mention of the praises and glory of our God,
is, to our hearts, as a spark falling either into
a puddle of water, and foul water too, or āt
least, as upon green timber, that much fire
will not kindle; there is so much moisture
of our humors and corruptions, that all dies
out with us, and we remain cold and dead.
But were not this a high and blessed con-
dition, to be in all estates in some willing
readiness to bear a part in this song, to ac-
knowledge the greatness and goodness of our
God, and to wish him glory in all 2 What
are the angels doing 2 This is their business,
and that without end. And seeing we hope
to partake with them, we should even here,
though in a lower key, and not so tunably
neither, yet, as we may, begin it; and upon
all occasions, our hearts should be often fol-
lowing in this sweet note, or offering at it,
To him be glory and dominion for ever.
VER. 12. Beloved. think it not strange concerning the
fiery trial, which is to try you, as though some
strange thing happened unto you.
VER. 13. But rejoice, inasmuch as you are partakers
of Christ's sufferings; that when his glory shall be
revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy.
This fighting life, surely, when we consider
it aright, we need not be dissuaded from low-
ing it, but have rather need to be strength-
ened with patience to go through, and to fight
on with courage and assurance of victory ;
still combating in a higher strength than our
own, against sin within and troubles without.
This is the great scope of this epistle, and the
apostle often interchanges his advices and
comforts in reference to these two. Against
sin he instructs us in the beginning of this
chapter, urging us to be armed, armed with
the same mind that was in Christ, and here
again, against suffering, and both in a like
way. In the mortifying of sin, we suffer
with him, as there he teaches, verse 1 of this
chapter: and in the encountering of affliction,
we suffer with him, as here we have it; and
so, the same mind in the same sufferings will
bring us to the same issue. Beloved, think it
not strange concerning the fiery trial which is
to try you, &c. But rejoice, inasmuch as ye
are partakers of Christ’s sufferings ; that
when his glory shall be revealed, ye likewise
may be glad with eaceeding joy.
The words, to the end of the chapter, con-
tain grounds of encouragement and consola-
tion for the children of God in sufferings, es-
pecially in suffering for God.
These two verses have these two things:
I. The close conjunction of sufferings with
the estate of a Christian. II. The due com-
posure of a Christian toward suffering.
I. It is no new, and therefore no strange
thing, that sufferings, hot sufferings, fiery
ones, be the companions of religion. Besides
the common miseries of human life, there is
an accession of troubles and hatreds for that
holiness of life to which the children of God
are called.
It was the lot of the church from her wick-
ed neighbors, and in the church, the lot of the
most holy and peculiar servants of God, from
the proſane multitude. Wo is me, my mother,
says Jeremiah, that thou hast born me a man
of strife, and a man of contention to the whole
earth. Jer. xv. 10. And of all the prophets,
says not our Savior, handling this same ar-
gument in his sermon, So persecuted they the
prophets that were before you ? Matt. v. 12.
And afterward, he tells them what they
might look for: Behold, says he, I send you
forth as sheep in the midst of wolves. Matt.
x. 16. And, in general, there is no following
of Christ, but with his badge and burden.
Something is to be left, we ourselves are to
be left: Whosoever will be my disciple, let him
deny himself; and somewhat to take: Take
up his cross and follow me. Matt. xvi. 24.
And doth not the apostle give his scholars
this universal lesson, as an infallible truth,
All that will live godly in Jesus Christ, shall
suffer persecution ? Look, in the close of that
roll of believers conquering in suffering, what
a cluster of sufferings and torture you have.
Heb. xi. 36, &c. Thus in the primitive times,
the trial, and fiery trial, even literally so, con-
tinued long. Those wicked emperors hated
the very innocency of Christians; and the
people, though they knew their blameless
carriage, yet, when any evil came would
40
314
[UHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
pick this quarrel, and still cry, Christianos ad
leones. . .
Now this, if we look to inferior causes, is
not strange, the malignant ungodly world ha-
ting holiness, hating the light, yea, the very
shadow of it. And the more the children of
God walk like their Father and their home,
the more unlike must they, of necessity, be-
come to the world about them, and therefore
become the very mark of all their enmities
and malice.
And thus, indged, the godly, though the
sons of peace, are the improper causes, the
occasion of much moise and disturbance in the
world ; as their Lord, the Prince of Peace,
avows it openly of himself in that sense: I
came not to send peace, but a sword, to set a
man at variance with his father, and the
daughter against the mother, &c. Matt. x. 34.
If a son in a family begin to inquire after
God, and withdraw from their profane or
dead way, oh, what a clamor rises presently
“Oh, my son, or daughter, or wife, is become
a plain fool,” &c. And then is all done that
may be, to quell and vex them, and make
their life grievous to them.
The exact holy walking of a Christian re-
ally condemns the world about him : shows
the disorder and foulness of their profane
ways. The life of religion, set by the side of
dead formality, discovers it to be a carcass, a
lifeless appearance; and, for this, neither
grossly wicked, nor decent, formal persons,
can well digest it. There is in the life of a
Christian a convincing light, that shows the
deformity of the works of darkness, and a
piercing heat, that scorches the ungodly, and
stirs and troubles their consciences. This
they can not endure, and hence rises in them
a contrary fire of wicked hatred, and hence
the trials, the fiery trials of the godly. If they
could get those precise persons removed out
of their way, they think they might then have
more room, and live at more liberty : as it is,
Rev. xi. 10, a carousing [xapodow]. What a
dance there was about the two dead bodies
of the two witnesses | The people and na-
tions rejoiced and made merry, and sent gifts
one to another, because these two prophets
tormented them that dwelt on the earth. And
from the same hearth, I mean the same wick-
edness of heart in the world, are the fires of
persecution kindled against the saints in the
world, and the bonfires of joy when they are
rid of them.
And as this is an infernal fire of enmity
against God, so it is blown by that spirit
whose element it is. Satan stirs up and
blows the coal, and raises the hatred of the
ungodly against Christians.
But while he, and they in whom he power-
fully works, are thus working for their vile
ends in the persecution of the saints, HE who
sovereignly orders all, is working in the same,
his wise and gracious ends, and attains them,
and makes the malice of his enemies serve
his ends and undo their own. It is true, that
by the heat of persecution many are scared
from embracing religion : such as love them-
selves and their present ease, and others that
seemed to have embraced it, are driven to let
it go and fall from it; but yet, when all is
well computed, religion is still upon the gain-
ing hand. Those who reject it, or revolt from
it, are such as have no true knowledge of it,
or share in it, nor in that happiness in which
it ends. But they that are indeed united to
Jesus Christ, do cleave the closer to him, and
seek to have their hearts more fastened to
him, because of the trials that they are, or
may probably be put to. And in their victo-
rious patience appears the invincible power
of religion where it hath once gained the
heart, that it can not be beaten or burnt Cut:
itself is a fire more mighty than all the fires
kindled against it. The love of Christ con-
quers and triumphs in the hardest sufferings
of life, and in death itself.
And this hath been the means of kindling
it in other hearts which were strangers to it,
when they beheld the victorious patience of
the saints, who conquered dying, as their
Head did : who wearied their tormentors, and
triumphed over their cruelty by a constancy
far above it.
Thus, these fiery trials make the lustre of
faith most appear, as gold shines brightest in
the furnace; and if any dross be mixed with
it, it is refined and purified from it by these
trials, and so it remains, by means of the fire,
purer than before. And both these are in the
resemblance here intended ; that the fire of
sufferings is for the advantage of believers,
both as trying the excellency of faith, giving
evidence of it, what it is, and also purifying
it from earth and drossy mixtures, and ma-
king it more excellently what it is, raising it
to a higher pitch of refinedness and worth.
In these fires, as faith is tried, so the word
on which faith relies is tried, and is found al/
gold, most precious, no refuse in it. The
truth and the sweetness of the promises are
much confirmed in the Christian’s heart, upon
his experiment of them in his sufferings. His
God is found to be as good as his word, being
with him when he goes through the fire (Isa.
xliii. 2), preserving him, so that he loses noth-
ing except dross, which is a gainful loss—
leaves only of his corruption behind him.
Oh how much worth is it, and how doth
it endear the heart to God, to have found him
sensibly present in the times of trouble, re-
freshing the soul with dews of spiritual com-
fort in the midst of the flames of fiery trial.
One special advantage of these fires is, the
purifying of a Christian's heart from the love
of the world and of present things. It is true,
the world at best is base and despicable, in
respect of the high estate and hopes of a be-
liever; yet still there is somewhat within him
that would bend him downward, and draw
him to too much complacency in outward
things, iſ they were much to his mind. Too
kind usage might sometimes make him for-
WER. 12, 13.]
315
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
get himself and think himself at home, at
least so much as not to entertain those long-
ings after home, and that ardent progress
homeward, that become him. It is good for
us, certainly, to find hardship, and enmities,
and contempts here, and to find them fre-
quent, that we may not think them strange,
but ourselves strangers, and may think it
were strange for us to be otherwise enter-
tained. This keeps the affections more clear
and disengaged, sets them upward. Thus
the Lord makes the world displeasing to his
own, that they may turn in to him, and seek
all their consolations in himself. Oh, un-
speakable advantage
II. The composure of a Christian, in ref-
erence to sufferings, is prescribed in these
two following, resolving and rejoicing : 1.
Resolving to endure them, reckoning upon
them, Think it not strange, pi, Ševčeate; 2.
Rejoicing in them, xaſpers, Be glad, inas-
much, &c.
Be not strangers in it..] Which yet natu-
rally we would be. We are willing to hear
of peace and ease, and would gladly believe
what we extremely desire. It is a thing of
prime concern, to take at first a right notion
of Christianity. This many do not, and so
either fall off quickly, or walk on slowly and
heavily; they do not reckon right the charges,
take not into the account the duties of doing
and suffering, but think to perform some du-
ties, if they may with ease, and have no other
foresight; they do not consider that self-deni-
al, that fighting against a man's self, and
fighting vehemently with the world, those
trials, fiery trials, which a Christian must en-
counter with. As they observe of other points,
so popery is in this very compliant with na-
ture, which is a very bad sign in religion.
We would be content it were true that the
true church of Christ had rather prosperity
and pomp for her badge than the cross; much
ease and riches, and few or no crosses, ex-
cept they were painted and gilded crosses,
such as that church hath chosen, instead of
real ones.
Most men would give religion a fair coun-
tenance, if it gave them fair weather ; and
they that do indeed acknowledge Christ to be
the Son of God, as St. Peter did, yet are natu-
rally as unwilling as he was to hear the hard
news of suffering: and if their advice might
have place, would readily be of his mind, Be
it far from thee, Lord. Matthew xvi. 22, 23.
His good confession was not, but this kind ad-
vice was from flesh and blood, and from an
Evil spirit, as the sharp answer tells: Get
thee behind me, Satan, thou art an offence
wnto me.
You know what kind of Messiah the Jews
generally dreamed of, and therefore took of.
fence at the meanness and sufferings of Christ,
expecting an earthly king, and an outwardly
flourishing state. And the disciples, them-
selves, after they had been long with him,
were still in that same dream, when they
were contesting about imaginary places. Yea,
they were scarcely well out .# it, even after
his suffering and death ; all the noise and
trouble of that had not well awaked them.
We trusted it had been he which should have
restored Israel. Luke xxxiv. 12.
And, after all that we have read and heard
of ancient times, and of Jesus Christ himself,
his sufferings in the flesh, and of his apostles
and his saints, from one age to another, yet
still we have our inclinations to this practice
of driving troubles far off from our thoughts,
till they come upon our backs, fancying moth-
ing but rest and ease, till we be shaken rudely
out of it.
How have we of late flattered ourselves,
many of us one year after another, upon slight
appearances, “Oh, now it will be peace"
And, behold, still trouble hath increased, and
these thoughts have proved the lying visions
of our own hearts, while the Lord hath not
spoken of it. Ezek. xiii. 7. And thus, of late,
have we thought it at hand, and taken ways of
our own to hasten it, which, I fear, will prove
fool's haste, as you say.
You that know the Lord, seek him earnest-
ly for the averting of further troubles and
combustions, which, if you look aright, you
will find threatening us as much as ever.
And withal, seek hearts prepared and fixed
for days of trial, fiery trial. Yea, though we
did obtain some breathing of our outward
peace, yet shall not the followers of Christ
want their trials from the hatred of the un-
godly world. If it persecuted me, says he, it
will also persecute you. John xv. 20.
Acquaint, therefore, your thoughts and
hearts with sufferings, that when they come,
thou and they not being strangers, may agree
and comply the better. Do not afflict your-
selves with vain fears beforehand of troubles
to come, and so make uncertain evils a cer-
tain vexation by advance ; but thus forethink
the hardest trial you are likely to be put to
for the name and cause of Christ, and labor
for a holy stability of mind, for encountering
it if it should come upon you. Things cer-
tainly fall the lighter on us, when they fall
first upon our thoughts. In this way, indeed,
of an imagined suffering, the conquest before-
hand may be but imaginary, and thou mayest
fail in the trial. Therefore, be still humble and
dependant on the strength of Christ, and seek
to be previously furnished with much distrust
of thyself, and much trust in him, with much
denial of thyself, and much love to him ; and
this preparing and training of the heart may
prove useful, and make it more dexterous,
when brought to a real conflict. In all, both
beforehand and in the time of the trial, make
thy Lord Jesus all thy strength. That is our
only way in all to be conquerors, to be more
than conquerors, through him that loved us.
Rom. viii. 37.
Think it not strange, for it is not. Suit
your thoughts to the experience and verdict
of all times, and to the warnings that the
316
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
Spirit of God hath given us in the Scriptures,
and our Savior himself from his own mouth,
and in the example which he showed in his
own person. But the point goes higher.
Rejoice.] Though we think not the suffer-
ings strange, yet, may we not well think
that rule somewhat strange, to rejoice in
them 2 No, it will be found as reasonable
as the other, being duly considered. And it
rests upon the same ground, which will bear
both. Inasmuch as you are partakers of the
sufferings of Christ.
If the children of God consider their trials,
not in their natural bitterness, but in the
sweet love whence they spring, and the
Sweet fruits that spring from them, that we
are our Lord's gold, and that he tries us in
the furnace to purify us (as in the former
Verse), this may beget not only patience, but
gladness even in the sufferings. But add we
this, and truly it completes the reason of this
way of rejoicing in our saddest sufferings,
that in them we are partakers of the suffer-
2ngs of Christ.
So then, 1. Consider this twofold connected
participation, of the sufferings of Christ and
of the after-glory. . 2. The present joy, even
in sufferings, springing from that participa-
tlon.
I need not tell you, that this communion
In sufferings, is not in point of expiation, or
Satisfaction to Divine justice, which was the
peculiar end of the sufferings of Christ per-
sonal, but not of the common sufferings of
Christ mystical. He bare our sins in his own
body on the tree, and in bearing them, took
them away: we bear his sufferings, as his
body united to him by his Spirit. Those suf-
ferings which were his personal burden, we
partake the sweet fruits of; they are account-
ed ours, and we are acquitted by them ; but
the endurance of them was his high and in-
communicable task, in which none at all
were with him. Our communion in these as
fully completed by himself in his natural
body, is the ground of our comfort and joy in
those sufferings that are completed in his
mystical body, the church. *
This is indeed our joy, that we have so
light a burden, so sweet an exchange; the
weight of sin quite taken off our backs, and
all bound on his cross only, and our crosses,
the badges of our conformity to him, laid in-
deed on our shoulders, but the great weight
of them likewise held up by his hand, that
they overpress us not. These fires of our
trial may be corrective, and purgative of the
remaining power of sin, and they are so in-
tended ; but Jesus Christ alone, in the suffer-
ings of his own cross, was the burnt-offering,
the propitiation for our sins.
Now, although he hath perfectly satisfied
for us, and saved us by his sufferings, yet
this conformity to him in the way of suffer-
ing is most reasonable. Although our holi-
mess doth not stand in point of law, nor come
in at all in the matter of justifying us, yet we
are called and appointed to holiness in Christ,
as assimilating us to him, our glorious head;
and we do really receive it from him, that
we may be like him. So these our suffer-
ings bear a very congruous likeness to him,
though in no way as an accession to his in
expiation, yet as a part of his image; and
therefore the apostle says, even in this re-
spect, that we are predestinated to be con-
formed to the image of his Son. Rom. viii.
29. Is it fit that we should not follow where
Our Captain led, and went first, but that he
should lead through rugged, thorny ways,
and we pass about to get away through flow-
ery meadows 2 As his natural body shared
with his head in his sufferings, so ought his
body mystical to share with him, as its head
—the buffetings and spittings on his face, the
thorny crowns on his head, a pierced side,
nailed hands and feet: if we be parts of him,
can we think that a body finding nothing but
ease, and bathing in delights, can agree to a
head so tormented ? I remember what that
pious duke said at Jerusalem, when they
offered to crown him king there, Nolo au-
ream, ubi Christus spineam : No crown of
gold, where Christ Jesus was crowned with
thorns.
This is the way we must follow, or else
resolve to leave him ; the way of the cross is
the royal way to the crown. He said it, and
reminded them of it again, that they might
take the deep impression of it: Remember
what I said unto you, the servant is not great-
er than the Lord. If they have persecuted
me, they will also persecute you : if they have
Kept my saying, they will keep yours also.
John xv. 20. And particularly in point of
reproaches: If they have called the master
Beelzebub, how much more shall they call
them of his household 3 Matt. x. 24. A bit-
ter scoff, an evil name, reproaches for Christ,
why do these fret thee? They were a part
of thy Lord's entertainment while he was
here. Thou art, eyen in this, a partaker of
his sufferings, and in this way is he bringing
thee forward to the partaking of his glory.
That is the other thing.
When his glory shall be revealed.] Now
that he is hidden, little of his glory is seen. It
was hidden while he was on earth, and now
it is hidden in heaven, where he is. And as
for his body here, his church, it hath no
pompous dress, nor outward splendor ; and
the particular parts of it, the saints, are poor
despised creatures, the very refuse of men in
outward respects and common esteem. So
he himself is not seen, and his followers, the
more they are seen and looked on by the
world's eye, the more meanness appears.
True, as in the days of his humiliation some
rays were breaking forth through the veil of
his flesh and the cloud of his low despicable
condition, thus it is sometimes with his fol-
lowers: a glance of his image strikes the
very eye of the world, and forces some ac-
knowledgment and a kind of reverence in
WER. 12, 13.]
317
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
the ungodly ; but, commonly, Christ and his
followers are covered with all the disgraces
and ignominies the world can put on them.
But there is a day wherein he will appear,
and it is at hand; and then he shall be glori-
ous, even in his despised saints, and admired
in them that believe, 2 Thess. i. 10 : how
much more in the matchless brightness of
his own glorious person
In the mean time, he is hidden, and they
are hidden in him ; Our life is hid with Christ
in God. Col. iii. 3. The world sees nothing
of his glory and beauty, and even his own
see not much ; they have but a little glimmer-
ing of him, and of their own happiness in
him ; know little of their own high condition,
and what they are born to. But in that bright
day, he shall shine forth in his royal dignity,
and every eye shall see him, and be overcome
with his splendor. Terrible shall it be to
those that formerly despised him and his
Saints, but to them it shall be the gladdest
day that ever arose upon them, a day that
shall never set or be benighted; the day they
so much longed and looked out for, the full
accomplishment of all their hopes and desires.
Oh, how dark were all our days without the
hope of this day !
Then, says the apostle, ye shall rejoice with
exceeding joy ; and to the end you may not
fall short of that joy in the participation of
glory, fall not back from a cheerful progress
in the communion of those sufferings that are
so closely linked with it, and will so surely
lead unto it, and end in it. For in this the
apostle's expressions, this glory and joy is set
before them, as the great matter of their de-
sires and hopes, and the certain end of their
present sufferings.
Now, upon these grounds, the admonition
will appear reasonable, and not too great a
demand, to rejoice even in sufferings.
It is true, that passage in the epistle to the
Hebrews, ch. xii. 11, opposes present affliction
to joy. But, 1st, If you mark, it is but in the
appearance, or outward visage, It seemeth not
to be matter of joy, but of grief. To look
upon, it hath not a smiling countenance; yet
ioy may be under it. And, 2. Though to the
flesh it is what it seems, grief, and not joy,
yet there may be under it spiritual joy; yea,
the affliction itself may help and advance that
joy. 3. Through the natural sense of it, there
will be some alloy or mixture of grief, so that
the joy can not be pure and complete, but yet
there may be joy even in it. This the apostle
here clearly grants: Rejoice now in suffering
that you may rejoice eaceedingly after it,
dyax\tºpºevot, leaping for joy. Dou tless, this
oy, at present, is but a little parcel, a drop
of that sea of joy. Now it is joy, but more is
reserved. Then, they shall leap for joy. Yet
even at present, rejoice in trial, yea, in fiery
trial. This may be done. The children of
God are not called to so sad a life as the world
imagines: besides what is laid up for them in
heaven, they have, even here, their rejoicings
and songs in their distresses, as those prison-
ers had their psalms even at midnight, after
their stripes, and in their chains, before they
know of a sudden deliverance. (Acts xvi. 25.)
True, there may be a darkness within, cloud-
ing all the matter of their joy, but even that
darkness is the seed-time of after-joy: light
is sown in that darkness, and shall spring up ;
and not only shall they have a rich crop at
full harvest, but even some first-fruits of it
here, in pledge of the harvest.
And this they ought to expect, and to seek
after with minds humble and submissive as
to the measure and time of it, that they may
be partakers of spiritual jöy, and may by it
be enabled to go patiently, yea, cheerfully,
through the tribulations and temptations that
lie in their way homeward. And for this end
they ought to endeavor after a more clear dis-
cerning of their interest in Christ, that they
may know they partake of him, and so that,
in suffering, they are partakers of his suffer-
ings and shall be partakers of his glory.
Many afflictions will not cloud and obstruct
this, so much as one sin; therefore, if ye would
walk cheerfully, be most careful to walk holily.
All the winds about the earth make not an
earthquake, but only that within.
Now this Joy is grounded on this commu-
nion [1] in sufferings, then, [2] in glory.
[1..] Even in sufferings themselves. It is a
sweet, a joyful thing to be a sharer with Christ
in anything. All enjoyments wherein he is
not, are bitter to a soul that loves him, and
all sufferings with him are sweet. The worst
things of Christ are more truly delightful than
the best thing of the world; his afflictions are
sweeter than their pleasures, his reproach
more glorious than their honors, and more
rich than their treasures, as Moses accounted
them. Heb. xi. 26. Love delights in likeness
and communion, not only in things otherwise
pleasant, but in the hardest and harshest
things, which have not anything in them
desirable, but only that likeness. So that
this thought is very sweet to a heart posses-
sed with this love: what does the world by
its hatred, and persecutions, and revilings for
the sake of Christ, but make me more like
him, give me a greater share with him, in
that which he did so willingly undergo for
me 2 When he was sought for to be made a
king, as St. Bernard remarks, He escaped ;
but when he was sought to be brought to the
cross, he freely yielded himself. And shall 1
shrink and creep back from what he calls me
to suffer for his sake | Yea, even all my other
troubles and sufferings, I will desire to have
stamped thus, with this conformity to the
sufferings of Christ, in the humble, obedient,
cheerful endurance of them, and the giving
up my will to my Father's.
The following of Christ makes any way
pleasant. His faithful followers refuse no
march after him, be it through deserts, and
mountains, and storms, and hazards, that will
affright self-pleasing, easy spirits. Hearts
318
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
kindled and actuated with the Spirit of Christ,
will follow him wheresoever he goeth.
As he speaks it for warning to his disciples,
If they persecuted me, they will persecute you,
so he speaks it for comfort to them, and suffi-
cient comfort it is, If they hate you, they hated
me before you. John xv. 18, 20.
[2] Then add the other: see whither it
tends. He shall be revealed in his glory, and
ye shall even overflow with joy in the par-
taking of that glory. Therefore, rejoice now
in the midst of all your sufferings. Stand
upon the advanced ground of the promises
and the covenant of grace, and by faith look
beyond this moment, and all that is in it, to
that day wherein everlasting joy shall be upon
your heads, a crown of it, and sorrow and
mourning shall flee away. Isa. li. 11. Believe
in this day, and the victory is won. Oh that
blessed hope, well fixed and exercised, would
give other manner of spirits. What zeal for
God would it not inspire | What invincible
courage against all encounters! How soon
will this pageant of the world vanish, that
men are gazing on, these pictures and fancies
of pleasures and honors, falsely so called, and
give place to the real glory of the sons of God,
when this blessed Son, who is God, shall be
seen appearing in full majesty, and all his
brethren in glory with him, all clothed in
their robes | And if you ask, who are they,
why, these are they who came out of great
tribulation, and have washed their robes in
the blood of the Lamb. Rev. vii. 14.
VER. 14. If ye be reproached for the name of Christ,
happy are ye; for the Spirit of glory and of God
resteth upon you ; on their part he is evil spoken
of, but on your part he is glorified.
VER. 15. But let none of you suffer as a murderer, or
as a thief, or as an evil-doer, or as a busy-body in
other men’s matters.
VER. 16. Yet, if any man suffer as a Christian, let
him not be ashamed ; but let him glorify God on
this behalf.
THE WoRD is the Christian's magazine,
both of instructions and of encouragements,
whether for doing or for suffering ; and this
epistle is rich in both. Here, what the apos-
tle had said concerning suffering in general,
he specifies in the particular case of suffer-
ing reproaches. But this seems not to come
up to the height of that expression which
he hath used before : he spoke of fiery trial,
but this of reproach seems rather fit to be
called an airy trial, the blast of vanishing
words. Yet, upon trial, it will be found to
be (as here it is accounted) a very sharp, a
fiery trial.
First, then, of this particular kind of suf-
fering; and secondly, of the comfort and ad-
vice furnished against it.
If ye be reproached.] If we consider both
the nature of the thing and the strain of the
Scriptures, we shall find that reproaches are
among the sharpest sort of sufferings, and
are indeed fiery trials. The tongue is a fire,
says St. James, and reproaches are the flash-
es of that fire; they are a subtle kind of
flame, like that lightning which, as natural-
ists say, crusheth the bones, and yet breaks
not the flesh ; they wound not the body, as
do tortures and whips, but through a whole
skin they reach the spirit of a man, and cut
it. So Psalm xlii. 10: As with a sword in
ony bones, mine enemies reproach me. The
fire of reproaches preys upon and dries up
the precious ointment of a good name, to use
Solomon's comparison, Eccl. vii. 4. A good
name is in itself good, a prime outward good;
and take us according to our natural temper
and apprehensions (according to which we
feel things), most men are, and some exces-
sively, too tender and delicate in it. Although,
truly, I take it rather to be a weakness than
true greatness of spirit, as many fancy it, to
depend much on the opinion of others, and
to feel it deeply, yet, I say, considering that
it is commonly thus with men, and that there
are the remains of this, as of other frailties
in the children of God, it can not well be
but reproaches will ordinarily much afflict
men, and to some kind of spirits, possibly, be
more grievous than great bodily pain or suf-
fering.
And inasmuch as they are thus grievous,
the Scripture accounts them so, and very
usually reckons them among sufferings: it is
apt to name them more than any other kind
of suffering, and that with good reason, not
only for their piercing nature (as we have
Said), but withal for their frequency and mul-
titude; and some things we suffer do, as flies,
more trouble by their number than by their
weight. .*
Now,there is no one kind of suffering, of such
constancy and commonness, and abundance,
as reproaches are. When other persecutions
cease, yet these continue : when all other fires
of martyrdom are put out, these burn still. In
all times and places, the malignant world is
ready to revile religion; not only avowed
enemies of it, but the greatest part even of
those that make a vulgar profession of it:
they that outwardly receive the form of re-
ligion, are yet, many of them, inwardly ha-
ters of the power of it, and Christians who
are such merely in name, will scorn and re-
proach those that are Christians indeed.
And this is done with such ease by every
one, that these arrows fly thick: every one
that hath a tongue can shoot them, even base
abjects (Psalm xxxv. 15); and the drunkards
make songs, as Jeremiah complains. The
meanest sort can reach this point of perse-
cution, and be active in it against the chil-
dren of God. They who can not, or dare
not offer them any other injury, will not fear,
nor spare, to let fly a tâunt or bitter word.
So that whereas other sufferings are rarer,
these meet them daily:—While they say dai-
ly unto me, Where is thy God 2 p. xlii. 10.
We see, then, how justly reproaches are
often mentioned among and beyond other
trials, and accounted persecution. See Matt.
v. 10, 11: Blessed are ye when men shall re-
WER. 14—16.]
319
|FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
vile you, and persecute you, and shall say all
manner of evil, against you falsely, for my
sake. In the history of the casting out of
Hagar and her son, Gen. xxi. 9, all we find
laid to Ishmael’s charge is, Sarah saw him
mocking. And as he that was born after the
flesh did then, in this manner, persecute him
that was born after the Spirit (Gal. iv. 29),
even so it is now. And thus are reproaches
mentioned among the sufferings of Christ in
the gospel, and not as the least: the railings
and mockings that were darted at him, and
fixed to the Cross, are mentioned more than
the very nails that fixed him. And so, He-
brews xii. 2, the shame of the cross: though
he was above it and despised it, yet that shame
added much to the burden of it. So, verse 3:
Consider him who endured the contradiction
of sinners.
Now the other thing is, that this is the lot
of Christians, as it was of Christ. And why
should they look for more kindness and bet-
ter usage, and think to find acclamations and
applauses from the world, which so vilified
their Lord 2 Oh, no | The vain heart must
be weaned from these, to follow Christ. If
we will indeed follow him, it must be tamed
to share with him in this point of suffering,
not only mistakes and misconstructions, but
bitter scoffings and reproaches. Why should
not our minds ply and fold to this upon that
very reason which he so reasonably presses
again and again on his disciples? The ser-
van t is not greater than his master. And, in
reference to this very thing, he adds: If they
have called the Master, Beelzebub, how much
more will they speak so of his servants. Matt.
x. 24, 25.
Infer. 1. Seeing it is thus, I shall first press
upon the followers of Christ the apostle's rule
here, to keep their suffering spotless, that it
may not be comfortless. Resolve to endure
it, but resolve likewise that it shall be on your
part innocent suffering. Suffer not as evil-
doers. Besides that the ways of wickedness
are most unsuitable to your holy calling, look
to the enmity about you, and gain even out
of that evil, this great good of more circum-
spect and holy walking. Recollect who you
are, and where you are, your own weakness,
and the world's wickedness. This our Savior
represents, and upon it gives that suitable
rule: Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the
midst of wolves ; be ye therefore wise as ser-
pents, and harmless as doves.—Prudens sim-
plicitas. Know you not what exact eyes of
others are upon you ? Will you not thence
learn exactly to eye yourselves and all your
ways, and seek of God, with David, to be led
in righteousness, because of your enemies,
your observers ? Psalm xxvii. 11.
This is the rule here : verse 16. Suffer as
Christians, holily and blamelessly, that the
enemy may not know where to fasten his
hold. As the wrestlers anointed their bodies,
that the hands of their antagonists might not
fasten upon them, thus, truly they that walk
and suffer as Christians anointed with the
Spirit of Christ, their enemies can not well
fasten their hold upon them.
To you, therefore, who love the Lord Jesus,
I recommend this especially to be careful
that all your reproaches may be indeed for
Christ, and not for anything in you unlike to
Christ; that there be nothing save the matter
of your rod. Keep the quarrel as clean and
unmixed as you can, and this will advantage
you much, both within and without, in the
peace and firmness of your minds, and in the
refutation of your enemies. This will make
you as a brazen wall, as the Lord speaks to
the prophet: they shall fight against you, but
shall not prevail. Jer. xv. 20.
Keep far off from all impure, unholy ways.
Suffer not as evil-doers, no, nor as busy-bodies.
Be much at home, setting things at rights
within your own breast, where there is so
much work, and such daily need of diligence,
and then you will find no leisure for unneces-
sary idle pryings into the ways and affairs of
others; and further than your calling and the
rules of Christian charity engage you, you
will not interpose in any matters without you,
nor be found proud and censorious, as the
world is ready to call you.
Shun the appearances of evil ; walkwarily
and prudently in all things. Be not heady,
nor self-willed, no, not in the best thing.
Walk not upon the utter brink and hedge of
your liberty, for then you shall be in danger
of overpassing it. Things that are lawful
may be inexpedient, and, in case there is fear
of scandal, ought either to be wholly forborne,
or used with much prudence and circumspec
tion. Oh, study in all things to adorn the
gospel, and under a sense of your own unskil-
fulness and folly, beg wisdom from above,
that anointing that will teach you all things,
much of that holy Spirit, that will lead you
in the way of all truth ; and then, in that way,
whatsoever may befall you, suffer it, and how-
ever you may be vilified and reproached, hap-
py are ye, for the Spirit of glory and of God
resteth upon you.
Inf. 2. But if to be thus reproached is to be
happy, then, certainly, their reproachers are
not less unhappy. If on those resteth the
Spirit of glory and of God, what spirit is in
these, but the spirit of Satan, and of shame
and vileness 2 Who is the basest, most con-
temptible kind of person in the world 2 Tru-
ly, I think, an avowed contemner and mocker
of holiness. Shall any such befound among us?
I charge you all in this name of Christ, that
you do not entertain godless prejudices against
the people of God. Let not your ears be open
to, nor your hearts close with the calumnies
and lies that may be flying abroad of them
and their practices; much less open your
mouths against them, or let any disgraceful
word be heard from you. And when you
meet with undeniable real frailties, know the
law of love, and to practise it. Think, “This
is blameworthy, yet let me not turn it to the
320
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
reproach of those persons, who, notwithstand-
ing, may be sincere, much less to the reproach
of other persons professing religion, and then
cast it upon religion itself.”
My brethren, beware of sharing with the
ungodly in this tongue-persecution of Chris-
tians. There is a day at hand, wherein the
Lord will make inquiry after these things.
If we shall be made accountable for idle
words (as we are warned, Matt. xii. 36), how
much more for bitter malicious words uttered
against any, especially against the saints of
God, whom, however the world may reckon,
he esteems his precious ones, his treasure
You that now can look on them with a scorn-
ful eye, which way shall you look when they
shall be beautiful and glorious, and all the
ungodly clothed with shame 2 Oh, do not re-
proach them, but rather come in and share
with them in the way of holiness, and in all
the sufferings and reproaches that follow it ;
for if you partake of their disgrace, you shall
share in glory with them, in the day of their
Lord's appearing.
The words contain two things, the evil of
these reproaches supposed, and the good ex-
pressed. The evil supposed, that they are
trials, and hot trials, has been treated of al-
ready. Now as to the good expressed.
Happy are ye..] Ye are happy even at pres-
ent, in the very midst of them ; they do not
trouble your happy estate, yea, they advance
it. Thus solid, indeed, is the happiness of
the saints, that in the lowest condition it re-
mains the same : in disgraces, in caves, in
prisons and chains, cast them where you will,
still they are happy. A diamond in the mire,
Sullied and trampled on, yet still retains its
own worth. But this is more, that the very
things that seem to make them miserable, do
not only not do that, but, on the contrary, do
make them the more happy: they are gainers
by their losses, and attain more liberty by
their thraldoms, and more honor by their dis-
graces, and more peace by their troubles. The
world and all their enemies are exceedingly
befooled in striving against them : not only
can they not undo them, but by all their en-
mity and practices, they do them pleasure,
and raise them higher. With what weapons
shall they fight 2 How shall a Christian's en-
emies set upon him 2 Where shall they hit
him, seeing that all the wrongs they do him,
do indeed enrich and ennoble him, and that
the more he is depressed, he flourishes the
more. Certainly, the blessedness of a Chris-
tian is matchless and invincible.
But how holds this, that a Christian is hap-
py in reproaches and by them 2 It is not
through their nature and virtue, for they are
evil (so Matt. v. 11); but first, by reason of
the cause ; secondly, by reason of the accom-
panying and consequent comfort.
º reason of the cause of these re-
proaches. This we have negatively at verse
15. Not as an evil-doer; that stains thy holy
profession, damps thy comfort, and clouds thy
happiness, disprofits thee, and dishonors thy
Lord. But the cause is stated positively, ver,
14, 16—for the name of Christ. And what is
there so rough which that will not make
pleasant, to suffer with Christ and for Christ,
who suffered so much and so willingly for
thee ? Hath he not gone through all before
thee, and made all easy and lovely 2 Hath he
not sweetened poverty, and persecution, and
hatred, and disgraces, and death itself, per-
fumed the grave, and turned it from a pit of
horror into a sweet resting-bed ? And thus
love of Christ judgeth: it thinks all lovely
which is endured for him, is glad to meet with
difficulties, and is ambitious of suffering for
him. Scorn or contempt is a thing of hard
digestion, but much inward heat of love di-
gests it easily. Reproaches are bitter, but
the reproaches of Christ are sweet. Take
their true value, Heb. xi. 26: The reproaches
of Christ are greater riches than the treasures
{ Egypt : his very worst things, better than
the best of the world. A touch of Christ turns
all into gold : his reproaches are riches, as it
is expressed there, and honor, as here. Hap-
py! Not only afterward shall ye be happy,
but happy are ye at present; and that, not
only in apprehension of that after-happiness,
as sure, and as already present to faith reali-
zing it, but even [2] in that they now possess
the presence and comforts of the Spirit.
For the spirit of glory..] This accompanies
disgraces %. him ; his Spirit, the Spirit of
glory and of God. With your sufferings
goes the name of Christ, and the Spirit of
Christ take them thus, when reproaches are
cast upon you for his name, and you are ena-
bled to bear them by his Spirit. And surely
his Spirit is most fit to support you under
them, yea, to raise you above them. They
are ignominious and inglorious, he is the Spir-
it of glory; they are human reproaches; he,
the Divine Spirit, the Spirit of glory and of
God, that is, the glorious Spirit of God.
And this is the advantage: the less the
Christian finds esteem and acceptance in the
world, the more he turns his eye inward, to
see what is there; and there he finds the
world's contempt counterpoised by a weight
of excellency and glory, even in this present
condition, as the pledge of the glory before
him. The reproaches be fiery : but the Spirit
of glory resteth upon you, doth not give you
a passing visit, but stays within you, and is
indeed yours. And in this the Christian can
take comfort, and let the foul weather blow
over, let all the scoffs and contempts abroad
pass as they come, having a glorious Spirit
within, such a guest honoring him with his
presence, abode, and sweet fellowship, being
indeed one with him. So that rich miser at
Athens could say—when they scorned him in
the streets, he went home to his bags, and
hugging himself there at the sight, let them
say what they would :—
“Populus me sibilat: at mihi plaudo
Ipse domi, simulae nummos contemplor in arca.”
WER. 14–16.]
321
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
How much more reasonably may the Chris-
tian say, “Let them revile and bark, I have
riches and honor enough that they see not.”
And this is what makes the world, as they
are a malicious party, so to be an incompe-
tent judge of the Christian's estate. They
see the rugged unpleasant outside only : the
right inside their eye can not reach. We
were miserable indeed, were our comforts
such as they could see.
And while this is the constant estate of a
Christian, it is usually most manifested to
him in the time of his greatest sufferings.
Then (as he said) he naturally turns inward
and sees it most, and accordingly finds it
most. God making this happy supplement
and compensation, that when his people have
least of the world, they have most of himself;
when they are most covered with the world's
disfavor, his favor shines brightest to them.
As Moses, when he was in the cloud, had
nearest access and speech with God; so when
the Christian is most clouded with distresses
and disgraces, then doth the Lord often show
himself most clearly to him.
If you be indeed Christians, you will not be
so much thinking, at any time, how you may
be free from all sufferings and despisings, but
rather, how you may go strongly and cheer-
fully through them. Lo, here is the way:
seek a real and firm interest in Christ, and a
participation of Christ's Spirit, and then a
look to him will make all easy and delight-
ful. Thou wilt be ashamed within thyself to
start back, or yield one foot, at the encounter
of a taunt or reproach for him. Thou wilt
think, “For whom is it 2 Is it not for him
who for my sake hid not his face from shame
and spitting 2" And further, “He died : now,
how should I meet death for him, who shrink
at the blast of a scornful word 2’’
If you would know whether this his Spirit
is and resteth in you, it can not be better
known than, 1st. By that very love, ardent
love to him, and high esteem of him, and
thence a willingness, yea, a gladness to suffer
anything for him. 2d. This Spirit of glory
sets the heart on glory. True glory makes
heavenly things, excellent in our thoughts,
and sets the world, the better and the worse,
the honor and the dishonor of it, at a low
Tate.
The spirit of the world is a base, ignoble
spirit, even the highest pitch of it. Theirs
are but poor designs who are projecting for
kingdoms, compared to those of the Chris-
tian, which ascend above all things under
the sun, and above the sun itself, and there-
fore he is not shaken with the threats of the
world, nor taken with its offers. Excellent
is the answer which St. Basil gives, in the
person of those martyrs, to that emperor who
made them (as he thought) great proffers to
draw them off: “Why,” say they, “dost
thou bid us so low as pieces of the world 2
We have learned to despise it all.” This is
not stupidity, nor an ºted stoutness of spir-
4
it, but an humble sublimity, which the natural
spirit of a man can not reach unto.
But wilt thou say still, “This stops me, I
do not find this Spirit in me: if I did, then I
think I could be willing to suffer anything.”
To this, for the present, I say not more than
this: Dost thou desire that Christ may be
glorified, and couldst thou be content it were
by thy suffering in any kind thou may est be
called to undergo for him 2 Art thou willing
to give up thine own interest to study and fol-
low Christ's, and to sacrifice thine own credit
and name to advance his ? Art thou unwil-
ling to do anything that may dishonor him,
but not unwilling to suffer anything that may
honor him 2 Or wouldst thou be thus 2 Then
be not disputing, but up and walk on in his
strength. *
Now, if any say, But his name is dishon-
ored by these reproaches—true, says the
apostle, on their part it is so, but not on
$/ours. They that reproach you, do their
best to make it reflect on Christ and his
cause, but thus it is only on their part. You
are sufferers for his name, and so you glorify
it: your faith and patience, and your victory
by these, do declare the power of Divine
grace, and the efficacy of the gospel. These
have made torturers ashamed, and induced
some beholders to share with those who were
tortured. Thus, though the profane world
intends, as far as it can reach, to fix dishonor
upon the profession of Christ, yet it sticks
not, but on the contrary, he is glorified by
your constancy.
And as the ignominy fastens not, but the
glory from the endurance does, so Christians
are obliged, and certainly are ready, accord-
ing to the apostle's zeal, ver. 16, to glorify
God on this behalf, that, as he is glorified in
them, so they may glorify and bless him who
hath dignified them so; that whereas we
might have been left to a sad sinking task, to
have suffered for various guilts, our God hath
changed the tenor and nature of our suffer-
ings, and makes them to be for the name of
Christ.
Thus, a spiritual mind doth not swell on a
conceit of constancy and courage, which is
the readiest way of self-undoing, but ac-
knowledges all to be gift, even suffering :
To you it is given not only to believe but to
suffer, and so to bless him on that behalf.
Phil. i. 29. Oh this love grows in suffering-
See Acts v. 41. They went away rejoicing
that they were counted worthy to suffer shame
for his name.
Consider, it is but a short while, and the
wicked and their scoffs shall vanish ; they
shall not be. This shame will presently be
over, this disgrace is of short date, but the
glory, and the Spirit of glory, are eternal.
What though thou shouldst be poor, and de-
famed, and despised, and be the common.
mark of scorn and all injuries, yet the end of
them all is at hand. This is now thy part,
but the scene shall be changed. Kings here.
322
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
real ones, are in the deepest reality but stage
kings; but when thou comest to alter the
person thou now bearest, here is the odds:
thou wast a fool in appearance, and for a mo-
ment, but thou shalt be truly a king for ever.
WER. 17. For the time is come, that judgment must
begin at the house of God: and if it first begin at
us, what shall the end be of them that obey not the
gospel of God.
THERE is not only perfect equity, but withal
a comely proportion and beauty in all the
ways of God, had we eyes open to discern
them, particularly in this point of the suffer-
ings and afflictions of the church. The apos-
tle here sets it before his brethren, For the
time is come, &c. In which words, there is,
1st. A parallel of the Lord's dealing with his
own and with the wicked. 2d. A persuasion
to due compliance and confidence, on the part
of his own, upon that consideration.
The parallel is in the order and the meas-
ure of punishing ; and it is so that, for the
order, it begins at the house of God, and ends
upon the ungodly. And that carries with it
this great difference in the measure, that it
passes from the one on whom it begins, and
rests on the other on whom it ends, and on
whom the full weight of it lies for ever. It is
so expressed: What shall the end be, &c., which
imports, not only that judgment shall over-
take them in the end, but that it shall be
their end ; they shall end in it, and it shall
be endless upon them.
The time is...] Indeed, the whole time of
this present life is so, is the time of suffering
and purifying for the church, compassed with
enemies who will afflict her, and subject to
those impurities which need affliction. The
children of God are in their under-age here:
all their time they are children, and have
their frailties and childish follies; and there-
fore, though they are not always under the
stroke of the rod, for that they were not able
to endure, yet they are under the discipline
and use of the rod all their time. And where-
as the wicked escape till their day of full
payment, the children of God are in this life
chastised with frequent afflictions. And so,
The time [6 kated; may here be taken accord-
ing as the apostle St. Paul uses the same
word, Rom. viii. 18, raffiliard Toij vövkaipov, The
sufferings of this present time.
But withal, it is true, and appears to be
here implied, that there are peculiar set
times, which the Lord chooses for the cor-
recting of his church. He hath the days pre-
fixed and written in his Ephemerides, hath
his days of correcting, wherein he goes round
from one church to another. We thought it
would never come to us, but we have now
found the smart of it.
And here the apostle may probably mean
the times of those hot persecutions that were
then begun, and continued, though with some
intervals for two or three ages. Thus, in the
sixth chapter of the Apocalypse, after the
white horse, immediately follow at his heels,
the red, and the black, and the pale horse.
And as it was upon the first publishing of the
gospel, so usually, upon the restoring of it, or
upon remarkable reformations of the church
and revivings of religion, follow sharp and
searching trials. As the lower cause of this
is the rage and malice of Satan, and of the
ungodly world, acted and stirred by him,
against the purity and prevalency of religion,
so it is from a higher hand for better ends.
The Lord will discover the multitudes of
hypocrites and empty professors, who will at
such a time readily abound, when religion is
upon an advancing way, and the stream of it
runs strong. Now, by the counter-current of
troubles, such fall back and are carried away.
And the truth of grace, in the hearts of be-
lievers, receives advantage from these haz-
ards and sufferings; they are put to fasten
their hold the better on Christ, to seek more
experience of the real and sweet consolations
of the gospel, which may uphold them against
the counter-blasts of suffering. Thus is reli-
gion made a more real and solid thing in the
hearts of true believers: they are entered to
that way of receiving Christ and his cross
together, that they may see their bargain,
and not think it a surprise.
Judgment.] Though all her sufferings are not
such, yet commonly, there is that unsuitable
and unwary walking among Christians, that
even their sufferings for the cause of God,
though unjust from men, are from God just
punishments of their miscarriages toward
him, in their former ways; their self-pleas-
ing and earthliness having too high a relish
for the delights of this world, forgetting their
inheritance and home, and conforming them-
selves to the world, walking too much like it.
Must begin..] The church of God is pun-
ished, while the wicked are free and flourish
in the world, possibly all their days: or, iſ
judgment reach them here, yet it is later; it
begins at the house of God. [1] This holds
in those who profess his name, and are of the
visible church, compared with them who are
without the pale of it, and are its avowed en-
emies. [2.] In those who profess a desire of
a more religious and holy course of life with-
in the church, compared with the profane
multitude. [3.] In those who are indeed
more spiritual and holy, and come nearer
unto God, compared with others who fall
short of that measure. In all these respects
it holds, that the Lord doth more readily ex-
ercise them with afflictions, and correct their
wanderings, than any others.
And this truly is most reasonable; and the
reason lies in the very name given to the
church, the house of God. For,
1. There is equity in such a proceeding.
The sins of the church have their peculiar
aggravations, which fall not upon others.
That which is simply a sin in strangers to
God, is, in his people, the breach of a known
and received law, and a law daily unfolded
and set before them : yea, it is against their
WER. 17.]
323.
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
oath of allegiance; it is perfidy and breach
of covenant, committed both against the
clearest light, and the strictest bonds, and the
highest mercies. And still the more partic-
ular the profession of his name and the testi-
monies of his love, these make sin the more
sinful, and the punishment of it the more
reasonable. The sins of the church are all
twice dipped, Dibapha, have a double dye.
Isa. i. 18. They are breaches of the law, and
they are, besides, ungrateful and disloyal
breaches of promise.
2. As there is unquestionable equity, so
there is an evident congruity in this. God
is ruler of all the world, but particularly of
his church, here called his house, wherein he
hath a special residence and presence; and
therefore it is most suitable that there he be
specially observed and obeyed, and if diso-
beyed, that he take notice of it and punish it;
that he suffer not himself to be dishonored to
his face by those of his own house. And
therefore, whosoever escapes, his own shall
not. You only have I known, of all the fam-
tlies of the earth : therefore will I punish you
for all your iniquities. Amos iii. 2. It is fit
that he who righteously judges and rules all
nations, should make his justice most evident
and exemplary in his own house, where it
may best be remarked, and where it will best
appear how impartial he is in punishing sin.
So a king (as the psalmist, Psalm ci. 2), that
he may rule the land well, makes his own
house exemplary. It is, you know, one spe-
cial qualification of a bishop and pastor, to be
one that ruleth well his own house, having his
children in subjection ; for if a man know
not how to rule his own house, how shall he
take care of the church of God 2 1 Tim. iii. 4.
Now this, therefore, more eminently appears
in the Supreme Lord of the church: he rules
it as his own house, and therefore when he
finds disobedience there, he will first punish
that. So he clears himself, and the wicked
world being afterward punished, their mouths
are stopped with the preceding punishment
of the church. Will he not spare his own 2
Yea, they shall be first scourged. What then
shall be the end of them that obey not the
gospel.
And indeed, the purity of his nature, if it
be everywhere contrary to all sinful impurity,
can not but most appear in his peculiar dwel-
ling-house; that he will especially have neat
and clean. If he hate sin all the world over,
where it is nearest to him he hates it most,
and testifies his hatred of it most: he will
not endure it in his presence. As cleanly,
neat persons can not well look upon anything
that is nasty, much less will they suffer it to
come near them or touch them, or to continue
in their presence in the house where they
dwell: so the Lord, who is of purer eyes
than to behold iniquity, will not abide it
within his own doors; and the nearer any
come to him, the less can he endure any un-
holiness or sinful pollution in them. He will
be sanctified in all that come nigh him, Lev.
x. 3.; so especially in his ministers. Oh,
how pure ought they to be, and how provo.
king and hateful to him are their impurities
Therefore, in that commission to the destroy-
ers, Ezek. ix. 6, to which place the apostle
here may have some reference, Go, says he,
slay the old and the young, and begin at my
sanctuary. They were the persons who had
polluted his worship, and there the first
stroke lighted. And in a spiritual sense, be-
cause all his people are his own elect priest-
hood, and should be holiness to the Lord ;
when they are not really so, and do not sanc-
tify him in their walking, he sanctifies him-
self, and declares his holiness in his judg-
ments on them.
3. There is mercy in this dispensation too;
even under the habit of judgment, love walks
Secretly and works. So loving and so wise a
Father will not undo his children by sparing
the rod, but because he loves, rebukes, and
chastens. See Heb. xii. 6. Prov. iii. 11. Apoc.
iii. 19. His church is his house; therefore
that he may delight in it, and take pleasure
to dwell in it, and make it happy with his
presence, he will have it often washed and
made clean, and the filth and rubbish scoured
and purged out of it; this argues his gracious
purpose of abiding in it.
And as he doth it, that he may delight in
his people, so he doth it that they may de-
light in him, and in him alone. He imbitters
the breast of the world, to wean them ;
makes the world hate them, that they may
the more easily hate it ; suffers them not to
settle upon it, and fall into a complacency
with it, but makes it unpleasant to them by
many and sharp afflictions, that they may
with the more willingness come off and be
untied from it, and that they may remember
home the more, and seek their comforts
above; that finding so little below, they may
turn unto him, and delight themselves in
communion with him. That the sweet in-
cense of their prayers may ascend the more
thick, he kindles those fires of trials to them.
For though it should not be so, yet so it is,
that in times of ease they would easily grow
remiss and formal in that duty.
He is gracious and wise, knows what he
does with them, and the thoughts he thinks
toward them. Jer. xxix. 11. All is for their
advantage, for the purifying of their iniquities.
Isa. xxvii. 9. He purges out their impatience,
and earthliness, and self-will, and carnal
security; and thus refines them for vessels
of honor. We see in a jeweller's shop, that
as there are pearls and diamonds, and other
precious stones, so there are files, cutting in-
struments, and many sharp tools, for their
polishing ; and while they are in the work-
he se, they are continual neighbors to them,
and often come under them. The church is
God’s jewellery, his work-house, where his
jewels are a polishing for his palace and house;
and those he especially esteems and means to
324
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
make most resplendent, he hath oftenest his
tools upon.
Thus observe it, as it is the church compar-
ed to other societies, so is it in a congregation
or family; if there be one more diligently
seeking after God than the rest, he shall be
liable to meet with more trials, and be oftener
under afflictions than any of the company,
either under contempt and scorn, or poverty
and sickness, or some one pressure or other,
outward or inward. And those inward trials
are the nearest and sharpest which the world
sees least, and yet the soul feels most. And
yet all these, both outward and inward, have
love, unspeakable love in them all, being
designed to purge and polish them, and, by
the increasing of grace, to fit them for glory.
Inf. 1. Let us not be so foolish as to prom-
ise ourselves impunity on account of our re-
lation to God as his church in covenant with
him. If once we thought so, surely our ex-
perience hath undeceived us. And let not
what we have suffered harden us, as if the
worst were past. We may rather fear it is
but a pledge and beginning of sharper judg-
ment. Why do we not consider our unhum-
bled and unpurified condition, and tremble
before the Lord 2 Would we save him a
labor, he would take it well. Let us purify
our souls, that he may not be put to further
purifying by new judgments. Were we busy
reading our present condition, we should see
very legible foresigns of further judgments;
as for instance: [1..] . The Lord taking away
his eminent and worthy servants, who are as
the very pillars of the public peace and wel-
fare, and taking away counsel, and courage,
and union, from the rest; forsaking us in our
meetings, and leaving us in the dark to grope
and rush one upon another. [2.] The dissen-
sions and jarrings in the state and church, are
likely, from imagination, to bring it to a reality.
These unnatural burnings threaten new fires
of public judgments to be kindled among us.
[3.] That general despising of the gospel and
abounding of profaneness throughout the
land, not yet purged, but as our great sin
remaining in us, calls for more fire and more
boiling. T4..] The general coldness and dead-
ness of spirit ; the want of zeal for God, and
of the communion of Saints, that mutual stir-
ring up of one another to holiness; and, which
is the source of all, the restraining of prayer,
a frozen benumbedness in that so necessary
work, that preventer of judgments, that bind-
er of the hands of God from punishments, and
opener of them for the pouring forth of mer-
cies.—Oh! this is a sad condition in itself,
though it portended no further judgment, the
Lord hiding himself, and the spirit of zeal
and prayer withdrawn, and scarcely any
lamenting it, or so much as perceiving it!
Where are our days either of solemn prayer
or praises, as if there were cause for neither
And yet, there is a clear cause for both. Truly,
my brethren, we have need, if ever we had,
to bestir ourselves. Are not these kingdoms,
at this present, brought to the extreme point
of their highest hazard 2 And yet, who lays
it to heart.
Inf: 2. Learn to put a right construction
on all God's dealings with his church, and
with thy soul. . With regard to his church,
there may be a time wherein thou shalt see it
not only tossed, but, to thy thinking, covered
and swallowed up with tears: but wait a little,
it shall arrive safe. This is a common stum-
bling-stone, but walk by the light of the word,
and the eye of faith looking on it, and thou
shalt pass by and not stumble at it. The
church mourns, and Babylon sings—sits as a
queen ; but for how long 2 She shall come
down and sit in the dust ; and Sion shall be
glorious, and put on her beautiful garments,
while Babylon shall not look for another
revolution to raise her again ; no, she shall
never rise. And a mighty angel took up a
stone like a great mill-stone, and cast it into
the sea, saying, Thus with violence, shall that
great city Babylon be thrown down, and shall
be found no more at all. Rev. xviii. 21.
Be not hasty: take God’s work together,
and do not judge of it by parcels. It is indeed
all wisdom and righteousness; but we shall
best discern the beauty of it, when we look
on it in the frame, when it shall be fully com-
pleted and finished, and our eyes enlightened
to take a fuller and clearer view of it than we
can have here. Oh, what wonder, what end-
less wondering will it then command
* We read of Joseph hated, and sold, and
imprisoned, and all most unjustly, yet because,
within a leaf or two, we find him freed and
exalted, and his brethren coming as suppli-
cants to him, we are satisfied. But when we
look on things which are for the present cloudy
and dark, our short-sighted, hasty spirits can
not learn to wait a little, till we see the other
side, and what end the Lord makes. We see
judgment beginning at the house of God, and
this perplexes us while we consider not the
rest, What shall be the end of them that obey
not the gospel ? God begins the judgment
On his diº for a little time, that it may
end and rest upon his enemies for ever. And
indeed, he leaves the wicked last in the pun-
ishment, that he may make use of them for
the punishment of his church. They are his
rod, Isa. x. 5; but when he hath done that
work with them, they are broken and burnt,
and that, when they are at the height of
their insolence and boasting, not knowing
what hand moves them, and Smites his people
with them for a while, till the day of their
consuming come, ver, 16, 24, 25. Let the
vile enemy that hath shed our blood and in-
sulted over us, rejoice in their present im-
punity, and in men's procuring of it, and plead-
ing for it;” there is another hand whence we
* I am ready to believe this refers to the escape of
many who had deserved the severest punishments,
for their part in the grand Irish rebellion, but were
screened by the favor of some great men in the reign
of King Charles II.-[Dr. Doddridge.]
WER. 18.]
325
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
may look for justice. And though it may be,
that the judgment begun at us, is not yet
ended, and that we may yet further, and that
justly, find them our Scourge, yet, certainly,
we may and ought to look beyond that, unto
the end of the Lord's work, which shall be
the ruin of his enemies, and the peace of his
people, and the glory of his name.
Of them that obey not the gospel.] The end
of all the ungodly is terrible, but especially
the end of such as heard the gospel, and
have not received and obeyed it.
The word drew 0% wrov hath in it both unbelief
and disobedience ; , and these are insepara-
ble. Unbelief is the grand point of disobe-
dience in itself, and the spring of all other
discbedience; and the pity is, that men will
not believe it to be thus.
They think it an easy and a common thing
to believe. Who doth not believe 2 Oh, but
rather, who does 2 Who hath believed our
report 2 Were our own misery, and the hap-
piness that is in Christ believed, were the
riches of Christ and the love of Christ be-
lieved, would not this persuade men to for-
sake their sins and the world, in order to em-
brace him 2
But men run away with an extraordinary
fancy of believing, and do not deeply consid-
er what news the gospel brings, and how
much it concerns them. Sometimes, it may
be, they have a sudden thought of it, and
they think, I will think on it better at some
other time. But when comes that time !
One business steps in after another, and shuf-
ſles it out. Men are not at leisure to be
saved.
Observe the phrase, the gospel of God. It
is his embassy of peace to men, the riches
of his mercy and free love opened and set
forth, not simply to be looked upon, but laid
hold on ; the glorious holy God declaring his
design of agreement with man, in his own
Son, his blood streaming forth in it to wash
away uncleanness. , And yet this gospel is
not obeyed Surely, the conditions of it
must be very hard, and the commands intol-
erably grievous, that are not hearkened to.
Why, judge you if they be. The great com-
mand is, to receive that salvation; and the
other is this, to love that Savior; and there
is no more. Perfect obedience is not now the
thing ; and the obedience which is required,
that love makes sweet and easy to us, and
acceptable to him. This is proclaimed to all
who hear the gospel, but the greatest part
refuse it: they love themselves, and their
lusts, and this present world, and will not
change, and so they perish
They perish —What is that ? What is
their end ? I will answer that but as the
apostle doth, and that is even by asking the
question over again, What shall be their end?
There is no speaking of it ; a curtain is
drawn : silent wonder expresses it best, tel-
ling that it can not be expressed. How then
shall it be endured ? It is true, that there
be resemblances used in Scripture, giving us
some glance of it. We hear of a burning
lake, a fire that is not quenched, and a worm
that dies not. Isa. lxvi. 24; Mark ix. 44;
Rev. xxi. 8. But these are but shadows to
the real misery of them that obey not the
gospel. Oh, to be filled with the wrath of
God, the ever-living God, for ever! What
words or thoughts can reach it? Oh, eter-
nity, etermity " Oh, that we did believe it.
This same parallel of the Lord’s dealing
with the righteous and the wicked, is con-
tinued in the following verse, in other terms
for the clearer expression, and deeper im-
pression of it.
VER. 18. And if the righteous scarcely be saved,
where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear.
IT is true, then, that they are scarcely sav-
ed ; even they who endeavor to walk up-
rightly in the ways of God, that is, the righ-
teous, they are scarcely saved. This imports
not any uncertainty or hazard in the thing
itself as to the end, in respect of the purpose
and performance of God, but only, the great
difficulties and hard encounters in the way;
that they go through so many temptations
and tribulations, so many fightings without,
and fears within. The Christian is so sim-
ple and weak, and his enemies are so crafty
and powerful, the oppositions of the wicked
world, their hatreds, and scorns, and moles-
tations, the sleights and violence of Satan,
and, worst of all, the strength of his own
corruptions; and by reason of abounding cor-
ruption, there is such frequent, almost con-
tinual, need of purifying by afflictions and
trials, that he has need to be still under
physic, and is of necessity at sometimes
drained and brought so low, that there is
scarcely strength or life remaining in him.
And, truly, all outward difficulties would
be but matter of ease, would be as nothing,
were it not for the incumbrance of lusts and
corruptions within. Were a man to meet
disgraces and sufferings for Christ, how eas-
ily would he go through them, yea, and re-
joice in them, were he rid of the fretting im-
patience, the pride, and self-love, of his own
carnal heart | These clog and trouble him
worst, and he can not shake them off, nor
prevail against them without much pains,
many prayers and tears; and many times,
after much wrestling, he scarcely finds that
he hath gained any ground : yea, sometimes
he is foiled and cast down by them.
And so, in all other duties, such a fighting
and continual combat, with a revolting, back-
sliding heart, the flesh still pulling and drag-
ging downward ' When he would mount up,
he finds himself as a bird with a stone tied to
its foot; he hath wings that flutter to be up-
ward, but is pressed down by the weight
fastened to him. What struggling with Wan-
derings and deadness in hearing, and reading,
and prayer' And what is most grievous is,
that, by their unwary walking, and the pre-
vailing of some corruption, they grieve the
526
[CHAP. IV.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
Spirit of God, and provoke him to hide his
face, and withdraw his comforts. How much
pain to attain anything, any particular grace
of humility, or meekness, or self-denial ; and
if anything be attained, how hard to keep
and maintain it against the contrary party
How often are they driven back to their old
point. If they do but cease from striving a
little, they are carried back by the stream.
And what returns of doubtings and misbe-
lief, after they thought they were got some-
what above them, insomuch that sometimes
they are at the point of giving over, and
thinking it will never be for them. And yet,
through all these they are brought safe home.
There is another strength than theirs which
bears them up, and brings them through.
But these things, and many more of this na-
ture, argue the difficulty of their course, and
that it is not so easy a thing to come to heav-
en as most imagine it.
Inference. Thou that findest so little stop
and conflict in it, who goest thy round of ex-
ternal duties, and all is well, art no more
troubled ; thou hast need to inquire, after a
long time spent in this way, am I right 7
Have I not yet to begin 3 Surely, this looks not
like the way to heaven, as it is described in the
Scripture: it is too smooth and easy to be right.
And if the way of the righteous be so hard,
then how hard shall be the end of the ungodly
sinner that walks in sin with delight ! It
were strange if they should be at such pains,
and with great difficulty attain their end, and
he should come in among them in the end ;
they were fools indeed. True, if it were so.
But what if it be not so 2 Then the wicked
man is the fool, and shall find that he is, when
he shall not be able to stand in judgment.
Where shall he appear, when to the end he
might not appear, he would be glad to be
Smothered under the weight of the hills and
mountains, if they could shelter him from ap-
pearing ?
And what is the aim of all this which we
have spoken, or can speak, on this subject, but
that ye may be moved to take into deeper
thoughts the concernment of your immortal
souls 2 Oh, that you would be persuaded !
Oh, that you would betake yourselves to
Jesus Christ, and seek salvation in him 1 Seek
to be covered with his righteousness, and to
be led by his Spirit in the ways of righteous-
ness. That will seal to you the happy cer-
tainty of the end, and overcome for you all
the difficulties of the way. What is the gos-
§ of Christ preached for 2 What was the
lood of Christ shed for 2 Was it not, that
by receiving him we might escape condemna-
tion ? Nay, this drew him from heaven: He
came that we might have life, and that we
might have it more abundantly. John x. 10.
VER. 19. Wherefore let them that suffer according to
the will of God, commit the keeping of their souls
to him in well-doing, as unto a faithful Creator.
NoTHING doth so establish the mind amid
the rollings and turbulency of present things,
as both a look above them, and a look beyond
them; above them to the steady and good
Hand by which they are ruled, and beyond
them to the sweet and beautiful end to which,
by that Hand, they shall be brought. This
the apostle lays here as the foundation of that
patience and peace in troubles, where with he
would have his brethren furnished. And thus
he closes this chapter in these words: Wheher
fore, let them that suffer according to the will
ºf God, commit the keeping of their souls to
Åim in well-doing as unto a faithful Creator:
The words contain the true principle of
Christian patience and tranquillity of mind in
the sufferings of this life, expressing both
wherein it consists, and what are the grounds
of it.
I. It lies in this, committing the soul whto
God. The word sy dyabarotia which is add-
ed, is a true qualification of this, that it be
in well doing, according to the preceding doc:
trine, which the apostle gives clearly, and
largely, ver. 15, 16. If men would have
inward peace amid outward trouble; they
must walk by the rule of peace, and keep
strictly to it. If you would commit your soul
to the keeping of God, know that he is a holy
God, and an unholy soul that walks in any
way of wickedness, whether known Or secret,
is no fit commodity to put into his pure hand
to keep. Therefore, as you would have this
confidence to give your holy God the keep-
ing of your soul, and that he, may accept
of it, and take it off your hand, beware of
wilful pollutions and unholy ways. Walk sº
as you may not discredit your Protector, and
move him to be ashamed of you, and disclaim
you. Shall it be said that you live under his
shelter, and yet walk inordinately 2. As this
can not well be, you can not well believe it
to be. Loose ways will loosen your hold of
him, and confidence in him. You will be
driven to question your interest, and to think,
surely I d6 but delude myself: can I be under
his safeguard, and yet follow the course of
the world, and my corrupt heart? Certainly,
let who will be so, he will not be a guardian
and patron of wickedness. No, he is not a
God that hath pleasure in wickedness, nor shall
evil dwell with him. Psalm v. 4. If thou give
thy soul to him to keep, upon the terms of
liberty to sin, he will turn it out of his doors,
and remit it back to thee to look to as thou
wilt thyself. Yea, in the ways of sin, thou
dost indeed steal it back, and carriest it out
from him; thou puttest thyself out of the
compass of his defence, goest without the
trenches, and art, at thine own hazard, ex-
posed to armies of mischiefs and miseries.
* Inference. This, then; is primarily to be
looked to: you that would have safety in God
in evil times, beware of evil ways; for in
these it can not be. If you will be safe in
him, you must stay with him, and in all your
ways, keep within him as your fortress
Now, in the ways of sin you run out from
him.
VER. 19.]
327
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
Hence it is we have so little established
confidence in God in times of trial. We take
ways of our own, and will be gadding, and
so we are surprised and taken, as they that
are often venturing out into the enemy's reach,
and can not stay within the walls. It is no
idle repetition, Psalm xci. 1: He that dwelleth
in the secret places of the Most High, shall
abide under the shadow of the Almighty. He
that wanders not, but stays there, shall find
himself there hidden from danger. They that
rove out from God in their ways, are disquiet-
ed and tossed with fears; this is the fruit of
their own ways ; but the soul that is indeed
given to him to keep, keeps near him.
Study pure and holy walking, if you would
have your confidence firm, and have boldness
and joy in God. You will find that a little
sin will shake your trust, and disturb your
peace, more than the greatest sufferings : yea,
in those sufferings, your assurance and joy in
God will grow and abound most if sin be kept
out. That is the trouble-feast that disquiets
the conscience, which, while it continues
good, is a continual feast. So much sin as
gets in, so much peace will go out. Afflictions
can not break in upon it to break it, but sin
doth. All the winds which blow about the
earth from all points, stir it not ; only that
within the bowels of it makes the earthquake.
I do not mean that for infirmities a Chris-
tian ought to be discouraged. But take heed
of walking in any way of sin, for that will
unsettle thy confidence. Innocency and holy
walking make the soul of a sound constitu-
tion, which the counterblasts of affliction wear
not out, nor alter. Sin makes it so sickly and
crazy, that it can endure nothing. Therefore,
study to keep your consciences pure, and they
shall be peaceable, yea, in the worst of times
commonly most peaceable and best furnished
with spiritual confidence and comfort.
Commit the keeping of their souls...] The
Lord is an entire protector. He keeps the bod-
ies, yea, all that belongs to the believer, and,
as much as is good for him, makes all safe,
keeps all his bones, not one of them is broken,
Psal. xxxiv. 18; yea, says our Savior, The
very hairs of your head are numbered, Matt.
x. 30. But that which, as in the believer’s
account, and in God's account, so, certainly
in itself is most precious, is principally com-
mitted and received into his keeping, their
souls. They would most gladly be secured
in that here, and that shall be safe in the
midst of all hazards. Their chief concern is,
that, whatsoever be lost, this may not : this
is the jewel, and therefore, the prime care is
of this. If the soul be safe, all is well; it is
riches enough. What shall it profit a man,
though he gain the whole world, says our Sa-
vior, and lose his own soul 2 Mark viii. 36.
And so, what shall it disprofit a man, though
he lose the whole world, if he gain his soul ?
Nothing at all.
When times of trial come, oh, what a bus-
tle to hide this and that ; to flee, and carry
away and make safe that which is but trash
and rubbish to the precious soul; but how
few thoughts of that Were we in our wits,
that would be all at all times, not only in
trouble, but in days of peace. Oh, how shall
I make sure about my soul ? Let all go as
it may, can I but be secured and persuaded in
that point, I desire no more.
Now, the way is this, commit them to God:
this many say, but few do. Give them into
his hand, lay them up there (so the word is),
and they are safe, and may be quiet and com-
posed.
In patience possess your souls, says our Sa-
vior, Luke xxiv. 19. Impatient, fretting
souls are out of themselves; their owners
do not possess them. Now, the way to pos-
sess them ourselves in patience, is, thus to
commit them to him in confidence; for then
only we possess them, when he keeps them.
They are easily disquieted and shaken in
pieces while they are in our own hands, but
in his hand, they are above the reach of dan-
gers and fears.
Inference. Learn hence, what is the
proper act of faith : it rolls the soul over on
God, ventures it in his hand, and rests satis-
fied concerning it, being there. And there is
no way but this, to be quiet within, to be im-
pregnable and immovable in all assaults, and
fixed in all changes, believing in his free
love. Therefore, be persuaded to resolve on
that ;-not doubting and disputing, “Wheth-
er shall I believe or not ? Shall I think he will
suffer me to lay my soul upon him to keep,
so unworthy, so guilty a soul ? Were it not
presumption ſ”—Oh, what sayest thou ? Why
dost thou thus dishonor him, and disquiet
thyself 2 If thou hast a purpose to walk in
any way of wickedness, indeed thou art not
for him ; yea, thou comest not near him
to give him thy soul. But wouldst thou
have it delivered from sin, rather than from
trouble, yea, rather than from hell ? Is that
the chief safety thou seekest, to be kept from
iniquity, from thine own iniquity, thy below-
ed sins ? Dost thou desire to dwell in him,
and walk with him 2 Then, whatsoever be
thy guiltiness and unworthiness, come for-
ward, and give him thy soul to keep. If he
should seem to refuse it, press it on him. If
he stretch not forth his hand, lay it down
at his foot, and leave it there, and resolve
not to take it back. Say, “Lord, thou hast
made us these souls, thou callest for them
again to be committed to thee; here is one.
It is unworthy, but what soul is not so 2 It
is most unworthy, but therein will the riches
of thy grace appear most in receiving it.” And
thus leave it with him, and know, he will
make thee a good account of it. Now, should
you lose goods, or credit, or friends, or life it-
self, it imports not ; the main concern is sure,
if so be thy soul is out of hazard. I suffer
these things for the gospel, says the apostle :
nevertheless, I am not ashamed—Why ?—
for I know whom I have trusted, and am per-
328
[CHAP. W.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
suaded that he is able to keep that which I
have committed to him against that day. 2
Tim. i. 12.
II. The ground of this confidence, is in
these two things, the ability and the fidelity of
him in whom we trust. There is much in a
persuasion of the power of God. Though
few think they question that, there is in us
secret, undiscovered unbelief, even in that
point. Therefore the Lord so often makes
mention of it in the prophets. See Isa. l. 3,
&c. And, on this point, the Apostle Paul is
particularly express: I am persuaded that he
is able to keep, &c. So this apostle: Kept by
the power of God through faith unto salva-
tion, ready to be revealed in the last time.
Chap. i. 5. This is very needful to be con-
sidered, in regard of the many and great op-
positions, and dangers, and powerful enemies,
that seek after our souls; He is able to keep
them, for he is stronger than all, and none
can pluck them out of his hand, says our Sa-
vior. John x. 29. This the apostle here
implies in that word, Creator: if he was
able to give them being, surely he is able
to keep them from perishing. This rela-
tion of a Creator implies likewise a benign
propension and good will to the works of his
hands; if he gave them us at first, when
once they were not, forming them out of
nothing, will he not give us them again, be-
ing put into his hand for safety 2
And as he is powerful, he is no less faith-
ful, a faithful Creator. Truth itself. Those
who believe on him, he never deceives or
disappoints. Well might St. Paul say, I
know whom I have trusted. Oh, the advan-
tage of faith ! It engages the truth and the
power of God : his royal word and honor lie
upon it, to preserve the soul that faith gives
him in keeping. If he remain able and faith-
ful to perform his word, that soul shall not
perish.
There be in the words, other two grounds
of quietness of spirit in sufferings. [I.] It is
according to the will of God. The believing
soul, subjected and levelled to that will, com-
plying with his good pleasure in all, can not
have a more powerful persuasive than this,
that all is ordered by his will. This settled
in the heart would settle it much, and make
it even in all things; not only to know, but
wisely, and deeply to consider, that it is thus,
that all is measured in heaven, every drachm
of thy troubles weighed by that skilful hand,
which doth all things by weight, number,
and measure.
And then, consider him as thy God and
Father, who hath taken special charge of
thee, and of thy soul: thou hast given it to
him, and he hath received it. And, upon this
consideration, study to follow his will in all,
to have no will but his. . This is thy duty,
and thy wisdom. Nothing is gained by
spurning and struggling, but to hurt and vex
thyself; but by complying, all is gained—
sweet peace. It is the very secret, the mys-
tery of solid peace within, to resign all to his
will, to be disposed of at his pleasure, with-
out the least contrary thought. And thus,
like two-faced pictures, those sufferings and
troubles, and whatsoever else, while beheld
on the one side as painful to the flesh, hath
an unpleasant visage, yet, go about a little,
and look upon it as thy Father’s will, and then
it is smiling, beautiful, and lovely. This I
would recommend to you, not only for tem-
porals, as easier there, but in spiritual things,
your comforts and sensible efīlargements, to
love all that he does. It is the sum of Chris-
tianity, to have thy will crucified, and the
will of thy Lord thy only desire. Whether
joy or sorrow, sickness or health, life or death,
in all, in all, Thy will be done.
The other ground of quietness is contained
in the first word, which looks back on the
foregoing discourse, Wherefore—what ? See- .
ing that your reproachings and sufferings are
not endless, yea, that they are short, they
shall end, quickly end, and end in glory, be
not troubled about them, overlook them.
The eye of faith will do it. A moment gone,
and what are they 2 This is the great cause
of our disquietness in present troubles and
griefs; we forget their end. We are affect-
ed by our condition in this present life, as if
it were all, and it is nothing. Oh, how quick-
ly shall all the enjoyments, and all the suf-
ferings of this life pass away, and be as if they
had not been
CHAPTER W.
WER 1. The elders which are among you, I exhort,
who am also an elder, and a witness of the suffer-
ings of Christ, and also a partaker of the glory
that shall be revealed.
THE church of Christ being one body, is
interested in the condition and carriage of
each particular Christian, as a part of it, but
more especially in respect to those who are
more eminent and organic parts of it. There-
fore, the apostle, after many excellent direc-
tions given to all his Christian brethren to
whom he writes, doth most reasonably and
fitly add this express exhortation to those
who had the oversight and charge of the rest:
The elders which are among you, &c.
The words contain a particular definition
of the persons exhorted and the persons ex-
horting.
I. The persons exhorted: The elders among
you. Elders here, as in other places, is a
name, not of age, but of office ; yet the office
is named by that age which is, or ought to
be, most suitably qualified for it, importing,
that men, though not aged, yet, if called to
that office, should be noted for such wisdom
and gravity of mind and carriage, as may
give that authority, and command that re-
spect, which is requisite for persons in their
calling ; not novices, as St. Paul speaks: not
WER. 1.]
329
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
as a light bladder, being easily blown up, as
young unstable minds are ; but such as young
Timothy was in humility and diligence, as
the apostle testifies of him, Phil. ii. 20, and
as he further exhorts him to be, 1 Tim. iv.
12: Let no man despise thy youth, but be an
example of believers in word, in conversation,
in charity, in faith, in purity.
The name of elders indifferently signifies
either age or their calling : and the name of
ruling elders sometimes denotes civil rulers,
sometimes pastors of the church ; as, among
the Jews, both offices often met in the same
person. Here, it appears that pastors are
meant, as the exhortation, of feeding the
flock, evidences; which though it sometimes
signifies ruling, and here may comprise it,
yet is chiefly by doctrine. And then the title
given to Christ, in the encouragement which
is added, confirms this interpretation: The
Chief Shepherd.
A due frame of spirit and carriage in the
elders, particularly the apostles of the church,
is a thing of prime concern for the good of it.
It is one of the heaviest threatenings, when
the Lord declares, that he will give a rebel-
lious people such teachers and prophets as
they deserved, and indeed desired : If there
be a man to prophesy of wine and strong
drink, such a one shall be a prophet, says
he to that people. Mic. ii. 11. And, on the
other side, among the sweetest promises of
mercy, this is not the least, to be furnished
with plenty of faithful teachers. Though
profane men make no reckoning of it, yet,
were it in the hardest times, they who know
the Lord will account of it as he doth, a
sweet allay of all sufferings and hardship :
Though the Lord give you the bread of adver-
sity and the water of affliction, yet shall not
thy teachers be removed into a corner, but
thine eyes shall see thy teachers. Isa. xxx. 20.
how rich a promise is that, Jer. iii. 15: I will
give you pastors according to my own heart.
This promise is to be pressed and sued for
by earnest prayer. Were people much in this
duty, pastors would find the benefit of it, and
so the people themselves would receive back
their prayers, with much gain, into their own
bosom : they would have the returned bene-
fit of it, as the vapors that go up from be-
low, fall down upon the earth again in sweet
showers and make it fruitful. Thus, went
there many prayers up for pastors, their doc-
trine would drop as rain, and distil as dew,
(Deut. xxx. 2), and the sweet influence of it
would make fruitful the valleys, humble
hearts receiving it. And, at this time, it is
very needful that the Lord be much impor-
tuned for the continuance and increase of his
favor in this his church. As they who have
power should be more careful of those due
means which, in schools of learning, or oth-
erwise, are needful for qualifying men for this
service; so, all in general, both people and
pastors, and such as are offering themselves
to that service, should chiefly beg from the
higher academy, that teaching, abundance
of that Spirit promised to those employed in
that work, that might make them able minis-
ters of the New Testament.
Oh! it is an inestimable blessing, to have
the saving light of the gospel shining clear in
the faithful and powerful ministry of it. They
thought so, who said of their worthy teacher,
they had rather for them, that the sun should
not shine, than that he should not teach.
Salius solem non lucere, quam Chrysostomum
non docere.
2. The person exhorting: I, a co-presbyter
or fellow-elder with you. The duty of mu-
tual exhortation lies on Christians at large,
though it be little known among the greatest
part ; but truly, pastors should be, as in oth-
er duties, so particularly in this, eminent and
exemplary in their intercourse and converse,
saying often one to another, Oh! let us re-
member to what we are called ; to how high
and heavy a charge ; to what holiness and
diligence ; how great is the hazard of our
miscarriage, and how great the reward of
our fidelity. They should be often whetting
and sharpening one another by these weighty
and holy considerations.
And a witness of the sufferings of Christ.
He did indeed give witness to Christ, by suf-
fering for him the hatred and persecutions of
the world in the publishing of the gospel, and
so was a witness and martyr before the time
that he was put to death: and this I exclude
not. But that which is more particularly here
intended is, his certain knowledge of the suf-
ferings of Christ, in his own person, as an
eyewitness of them, and upon that knowl-
edge, a publisher of them. Luke xxiv. 48.
And thus these two suit with the two mo-
tives urged, to bear home the exhortation:
the one couched in that expression, the flock
of God (ver. 2), his purchase with those his
sufferings whereof I was an eyewitness; the
other motive, in the words, a crown of glory,
&c., wer. 4. As if he had said, I may speak
the more confidently of that, for I am one of
those who have a real interest in it, and a
firm belief of it, a partaker of the glory that
shall be revealed. And these, indeed, are the
things which give weight to a man’s words,
make them powerful and pressing.
A witness of the sufferings of Christ. The
apostles had a singular advantage in this,
who were ačrórrat, eyewitnesses; and St. Paul,
who wanted that, had it supplied by a vision
of Christ, in his conversion. A spiritual view
of Christ crucified, is generally, I will not say
absolutely, necessary to make a minister of
Christ, but certainly very requisite for the due
witnessing of him, and the displaying of the
excellency and virtue of his sufferings, and for
so preaching the gospel that there shall need
no other crucifix; after so clear and lively a
way, as that it may in some measure suit the
* Alluding to the custom of many popish preachers
to carry a little crucifix into the pulpit with them.-
DR. DoDDRIDGE.
42
330
[CHAP. W.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
apostle's word, Gal. iii. 1: Before whose eyes
Jesus Christ hath been evidently set forth cru-
cified among you. º
Men commonly read, and hear, and may
possibly preach, of the sufferings of Christ as
a common story, and in that way it may a lit-
tle move a man, and wring tears from his
eyes. But faith hath another kind of sight
of them, and so works another kind of affec-
tions; and without that, the very eyesight of
them had availed the apostles nothing ; for
how many saw him suffer as they did, who
reviled, or at least despised him But by the
eye of faith to see the only begotten Son of God,
as stricken and smitten of God, bearing our
sorrows, and wounded for our transgressions,
Jesus Christ, the righteous, reckoned among
the unrighteous and malefactors; to see him
stripped naked, and scourged, and buffeted,
and nailed, and dying ; and all for us; this is
the thing that will bind upon us most strong-
ly all the duties of Christianity and of our par-
ticular callings, and best enable us, according
to our callings, to bind them upon others. But
our slender view of these things occasions a
light sense of them, and that, cold incitements
to answerable duty. Certainly, deep impres-
sions would cause lively expressions.
Would we willingly stir up our own hearts
and one another to holy diligence in our sta-
tion, study more thoroughly Christ as suffer-
ing and dying: that is the very life of the gos-
pel and of our souls; it is all we have to
learn, and all we have to teach and press on
you. I determined to know nothing among
3you, save Jesus Christ and him crucified, to
make Christ's cross the sum of all my learn-
Ing.
A partaker of the glory to be revealed.] As
he was a witness of those sufferings, so a par-
taker of the glory purchased by those suffer-
ings; and therefore, as one insighted and in-
terested in what he speaks, the apostle might
fitly speak of that peculiar duty to which
those sufferings and that glory do peculiarly
persuade. This is the only way of speaking
of those things, not as a discourser or contem-
plative student, but as a partaker of them.
There is another force in a pastor's exhorta-
tion either to his people or his brethren, who
brings his message written upon his own
heart; who speaks of the guilt of sin, and the
sufferings of Christ for it, as particularly feel-
ing his own guilt, and looking on those suffer-
ings as taking it away; speaks of free grace
as one who either hath drunken of the refresh-
ing streams of it, at least is earnestly thirsting
after it; speaks of the love of Christ, from a
heart kindled with it, and of the glory to
come, as one who looks to be a sharer in it,
and longs earnestly for it, as one who hath
..] his joy and content laid up in the hopes
Of li.
And thus with respect to Christians con-
versing with each other in their mutual ex-
hortings and comfortings, all is cold and dead
that flows not from some inward persuasion
and experimental knowledge of Divine things.
But that gives an edge and a sweetness to
Christian conference: to be speaking of Jesús
Christ, not only as a King and as a Redeem-
er, but as their King, and their Redeemer, in
David's style, My King and my God, and of
his sufferings as theirs, applied by faith, and
acquitting them in St. Paul's style, Who loved
me and gave himself for me 5 to be speaking
of the glory to come as their inheritance, that
of which they are partakers, their home; as
strangers meeting together abroad, in some
foreign country, delight to speak of their own
land, their parentage and friends, and the rich
patrimony there abiding them. Peregrinis
in terris nulla est jucundior recordatio quam
sual civil atis: “Nothing is more delightful,”
says Augustine, “to travellers in distant
countries, than the remembrance of their na-
tive land.” And this ought to be the enter-
tainment of Christians when they meet. Away
with trifling, vain discourses; cause all to give
place to these refreshing remembrances of
our home. Were our hearts much on that
rich inheritance above, it would be impossi-
ble to refrain our tongues, and to pass on so
silent concerning it; to find matter of empty
pratings, and be pleased with them, and to
have no relish of this. Whither go your
hearts 2 They are out of their way, and
abase themselves, that turn so much down-
ward, and are not more above the sun, eying
still that blessed land where our purchased
inheritance lies.
Oh, seek after more clear knowledge of
this glory, and of your interest in it, that your
hearts may rejoice in the remembrance of it;
that it be not to you as the description of a
pleasant land, such as men read of in history,
and have no portion in ; they like it well, and
are pleased with it while they read, be it but
Some imagined country or commonwealth
finely fancied. But know this country of
yours to be real, and no device; and seek to
know yourselves to be partakers of it.
This confidence depends not upon a singu-
lar revelation, but on the power of faith, and
the light of the Spirit of God, which clears to
his children the things that he hath freely
given them ; though some of them at times,
some, it may be, all, or most of their time, do
want it, God so disposing it, that they scarce-
ly clearly see their right, till they be in pos-
session; see not their heaven and home, till
they arrive at it, or are hard upon it. Yet,
truly, this we may and ought to seek after in
humility and submission, that we may have
the pledge and earnest of our inheritance ;
not so much for the comfort within us (though
that is allowed), as that it may wean our
hearts from things below, may raise us to
higher and closer communion with God, and
enable us more for his service, and excite us
more to his praises, even here. What were
a Christian without the hope of this glory 2
As one said, Tolle religionem, et nullus eris:
Take away religion, and you take away the
WER. 2–4.]
331
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
man. And, having this hope, what are all
things here to him 2 How poor and despica-
ble the better and worse of this life, and this
life itself! How glad is he that it will quick-
ly end And what were the length of it to
him, but a long continuance of his banish-
ment, a long detainment from his home, and
how sweet is the message that is sent for him
to come home !
The glory to be revealed ! It is hidden for
the present, wholly unknown to the children
of this world, and even but little known to
the children of God, who are heirs of it. Yea,
they who know themselves partakers of it,
yet know not much what it is ; only this, that
it is above all they know or can imagine.
They may see things, which make a great
show here ; they may hear of more than they
See ; they may think or imagine more than
either they hear or see, or can distinctly con-
ceive of ; but still they must think of this
glory as beyond it all. If I see pompous
shows, or read or hear of them, yet this I say
of them, “These are not as my inheritance:
oh it is far beyond them.” Yea, does my
mind imagine things far beyond them, golden
mountains and marble palaces, yet those fall
short of my inheritance, for it is such as eye
hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it en-
tered into the heart of man to conceive. Oh,
the brightness of that glory when it shall be
revealed ! How shall they be astonished, who
shall see it, and not partake of it ! How shall
they be filled with everlasting joy, who are
heirs of it! Were the heart much upon the
thoughts of that glory, what thing is there in
this perishing world, which could either lift
it up or cast it down 2
VER. 2. Feed the flock of God which is among you,
taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but
willingly; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind.
VER. 3. Neither as being lords over God's heritage,
but being ensamples to the flock.
VER. 4. And when the Chief Shepherd shall appear,
ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not
away.
IN these words we have, I. The duty en-
joined: Feed the flock of God which is among
you, taking the oversight of it. II. The due
qualifications for this duty: Not by constraint,
not for filthy lucre, not as lording it over
God's heritage, but willingly, of a ready
mind, and as being ensamples to the flock.
III. The high advantage to be expected: An
unfading crown of glory, when the Chief
Shepherd shall appear.
I. The duty enjoined. Every step of the
way of our salvation hath on it the print of
infinite majesty, wisdom, and goodness, and
this among the rest: that men, sinful, weak
men, are made subservient in that great work
of bringing Christ and souls to meet; that by
the foolishness of preaching (or what appears
so to carnal wisdom), the chosen of God are
called, and come unto Jesus, and are made
wise unto salvation ; and that the life which
is conveyed to them by the word of life in the
hands of poor men, is by the same means pre-
served and advanced. This is the standing
work of the ministry, and this the thing here
bound upon them that are employed in it, to
feed the flock of God that is among them. Je-
sus Christ descended to purchase a church,
and descended to provide and furnish it, to
send down his Spirit: He ascended and gave
gifts, particularly for the work of the minis-
try, and the great use of them is this, feed
the flock of God.
Not to say any more of this usual resem-
blance of a flock, as importing the weakness
and tenderness of the church, the continual
need she stands in of inspection, and guidance,
and defence, and the tender care of the Chief
Shepherd for these things, the phrase enforces
the present duty of subordinate pastors, their
care and diligence in feeding that flock. The
due rule of discipline not excluded, the main
part of this duty is, by doctrine, the leading
them into the wholesome and green pastures
of saving truths revealed in the gospel, ac-
commodating the way of teaching to their
condition and capacity ; and with this they
should be, as much as possible, particularly
acquainted, and suit diligently and prudently
their doctrine to it. They are to feed the
sheep, those more advanced; to feed the lambs,
the younger and weaker; to have special care
of the infirm : to learn of their Master, the
great Shepherd, to bind up that which is
broken, and strengthen that which is sick
(Ezek. xxxiv. 16)—those that are broken in
spirit, that are exercised with temptations;
and gently to lead those that are with young
(Isa. xl. 11)—those in whom the inward wor
of grace is as in the conception, and they
heavy and weak with the weight of it, and
the many difficulties and doubtings which are
frequent companions and symptoms of that
work. Oh, what dexterity and skilfulness,
what diligence, and, above all, what affection
and bowels of compassion, are needful for this
task ' Who is sufficient for these things # 2
Cor. ii. 16. Who would not faint and give
over in it, were not our Lord the Chief Shep-
herd ; were not all our sufficiency laid up in
his rich fulness, and all our insufficiency cov-
ered in his gracious acceptance 3
Inf. 1. This is the thing we have to eye
and study, to set him before us, and to apply
ourselves in his strength to this work: not to
seek to please, but to feel ; not to delight the
ears, but to feed the souls of his people ; to
see that the food be according to his appoint-
ment; not empty or subtile motions, not light
affected expressions, but wholesome truths,
solid food, spiritual things spiritually con-
ceived, and uttered with holy understanding
and affection.
And we are to consider this, wherein lies
a very pressing motive; it is the flock of
God : not our own, to use as we please, but
committed to our custody by him, who loves
highly and prizes his flock, and will require
an account of us concerning it ; his bought,
332
[CHAP. W.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
his purchased flock, and at so dear a rate,
as the apostle St. Paul uses this same con-
sideration, in the same argument, Acts xx.
28: The flock of God that he hath bought
with his own blood. How reasonable is it
that we bestow our strength and life on that
flock for which our Lord laid down his life;
that we be most ready to draw out our spirits
for them for whom he let out his blood
Had I, says that holy man, Bernard, some of
that blood poured forth on the cross, how
carefully would I carry it ! And ought I
not to be as careful of those souls that it was
shed for ? (Advent, Serm. 3.) Oh, that price
which was paid for souls, which he, who
was no foolish merchant, but wisdom itself,
gave for them Were that price more in our
eyes, and more in yours, nothing would so
much take either you or us, as the matter of
our souls. In this would our desires and en-
deavors meet, we to use, and you to improve,
the means of saving your precious souls.
Inf. 2. This mainly concerns us indeed,
who have charge of many, especially finding
the right cure of one soul within us so hard:
but you are concerned in it, each for one. At
least remember, this is the end of the min-
istry, that you may be brought unto Christ;
that you may be led to the sweet pastures
and pleasant streams of the gospel; that you
may be spiritually fed, and may grow in that
heavenly life, which is here begun in all
those in whom it shall hereafter be perfected.
And as we ought in preaching, so ought
you in hearing, to propound this end to your-
selves, that you may be spiritually refreshed,
and walk in the strength of that divine nour.
ishment. Is this your purpose when you
come hither ? Inquire of your own hearts,
and see what you seek, and what you find,
in the public ordinances of God's house. Cer.
tainly, the most do not so much as think on
the due design of them; they aim at no end,
and therefore can attain none; they seek
nothing, but sit out their hour, asleep or
awake, as it may happen. Or, possibly,
Some seek to be delighted for the time, as
the Lord tells the prophet, to hear, as it were,
a pleasant song, Ezek. xxxiii. 32, if the gifts
and strain of the speaker be anything pleas-
ing. Or, it may be, they seek to gain some
new notions, to add somewhat to their stock
of knowledge, either that they may be en-
abled for discourse, or, simply, that they may
know. Some, it may be, go a little further;
they iike to be stirred and moved for the time,
and to have some touch of good affection
kindled, in them ; but this lasts but for a
while, till their other thoughts and affairs get
in, and smother and quench it; they are not
careful to blow it up and improve it. How
many, when they have been a little affected
with the word, go out and fall into other dis-
courses and thoughts: they either take in
their affairs secretly, as it were under their
cloak, and their hearts keep up a conference
with them, or, if they forbear this, yet, as
soon as they go out, they plunge themselves
over head and ears in the world, and lose all
which might have any way advantaged their
spiritual condition. It may be, one will say,
It was a good sermon. Is that to the pur-
pose ? But what think you it hath for your
praise or dispraise ? Instead of saying, Oh,
how well was that spoken | you should say,
Oh, how hard is repentance how sweet a
thing is faith ! how excellent the love of Je-
sus Čhrist! That were your best and most
real commendation of the sermon, with true
benefit to yourselves. tº
If some of you be careful of repeating, yet,
rest not on that ; if you be able to speak of
it afterward upon occasion, there is some-
what requisite beside and beyond this, to ev-
idence that you are indeed fed by the word,
as the flock of God. As when sheep, you
know, or other creatures, are nourished by
their pasture, the food they have eaten ap-
pears not in the same fashion upon them, not
in grass, but in growth of flesh and fleece;
thus the word would truly appear to feed
you, not by the bare discoursing of the word
over again, but by the temper of your spirits
and actions, if in them you really grow more
spiritual, if humility, self-denial, charity, and
holiness, are increased in you by it; other-
wise, whatsoever literal knowledge you at-
tain, it avails you nothing. Though you
heard many sermons every day; and attained
further light by them, and carried a plausible
profession of religion, yet, unless by the gos-
pel you be transformed into the likeness of
Christ, and grace be indeed growing in you,
wou are but, as one says of the cypress-trees,
fair and tall, but fruitless.” . .
Are you not grieved and afraid, or may not
many of you be so, who have lived many
years under a fruitful ministry, and yet are
as earthly and selfish, as unacquainted with
God and his ways, as at the first 3, Consider
this, that as the neglect of souls will lie
heavy on unholy or negligent ministers, so, a
great many souls are ruining themselves un-
der some measure of fit means, and the slight-
ing of those means will make their condition
far heavier than that of many others. Re-
member our Savior’s word : Wo to thee,
Chorazin ' Wo unto thee, Bethsaida | It
shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon in
the day of judgment than for you. Matt.
xi. 21
II. The discharge of this high task we
have here duly qualified: the apostle expres-
ses the upright way to it, both negatively
itivelv.
*}}...º.o. evils the apostle would re-
move from this work, constrainedness, covet-
ousness, and ambition, as opposed to willing-
ness, a ready mind, and an exemplary temper
and behavior. * &
1. We are cautioned against constrained-
ness, whivaykaards; against being driven to the
work by necessity, indigence, and want of
* & g *
* Kakoi kai úpn\ot kai kāpiriv ogº èxoval.
WER. 2–4.]
333
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
employment or subsistence, as it is with too
many, making a trade of it to live by, and
setting to it as to any other calling for that
end ; yea, making it the refuge and forlorn
resource of their insufficiency for other cal-
lings. And as men are not to undertake the
work, driven to it by that hard weapon of
necessity, so, being engaged in it, they are
not to discharge the duties of it merely upon
necessity, because of fines binding to it, or
for fear of censure: this is a violent forced
motion and can not but be both very unpleas-
ant and unprofitable, as to the proper end and
profiting of this work. And as the principle
of the motion in this service should not be a
compelling necessity of any kind, but true
willingness of heart, so this willingness
should not arise from anything but pure af-
fection to the work.
2. Not for filthy gain, but purely from the
inward bent of the mind. As it should not
be a compulsive or violent motion by neces-
sity from without, so it should not be an arti-
ficial motion by weights hung on within—
avarice and love of gain. The former were
a wheel, driven or drawn, going by force;
the latter, little better, as a clock made to go
by art, by weights hung to it. But there
should be a natural motion, like that of the
heavens in their course. A willing obedi-
ence to the Spirit of God within, moving a
man in every part of this holy work, that is,
Tpoſſypôs, his mind carried to it as the thing he
delights in, and in which he loves to be ex-
ercised. So, Timothy careth yungios, not arti-
ficially, but naturally. Phil. ii. 20. There
may be in a faithful pastor very great reluc-
tance in engaging and adhering to the work,
upon a sense of the excellency of it and his
own unfitness, and the deep apprehension of
those high interests, the glory of God, and
the salvation of souls; and yet, he may enter
into it, and continue in it, with this readiness
of mind too; that is, with most single and
earnest desires of doing all he can for God,
and the flock of God ; only grieved that
there is in him so little suitableness of heart,
so little holiness and acquaintance with God
for enabling him to it. But might he find
that, he were satisfied ; and in expectation
of that, he goes on, and waits, and is doing
according to his little skill and strength, and
can not leave it. He is constrained indeed,
but all the constraint is that of love to Jesus,
and, for his sake, to the souls he hath bought
(2 Cor. v. 14); and all the gain sought, is, to
#. souls to Christ; which is fat different
rom the constraint and the gain here prohib-
ited ; yea, this is indeed that very willing-
ness and readiness of mind which is opposed
to that other constraint. That is without ;
this is within: that other gain, is base filthy
gain, aixposépôos; this noble and divine.
Inſ: 1. Far be it from us, that necessity
and constraint should be the thing that moves
us in so holy a work. The Lord whom we
serve, sees into the heart, and if he did not
that primarily moving, accounts all our dili-
gence nothing. And let not base earth within
be the cause of our willingness, but a mind
touched with heaven. It is true, the temp-
tations of earth with us, in the matter of
gain, are not great; but yet, the heart may
cleave to them, as much as if they were
much greater, and if it do cleave to them,
they shall ruin us; as well a poor stipend
and glebe, if the affection be upon them, as a
great deanery or bishopric. If a man fall
into it, he may drown in a small brook, being
under water, as well as in the great ocean.
Oh, the little time that remains ! Let us
join our desires and endeavors in this work,
bend our united strength to serve him, that
we may have joy in that day of reckoning.
And, indeed, there is nothing moves us
aright, nor shall we ever find comfort in this
service, unless it be from a cheerful inward
readiness of mind, and that from the love of
Christ. Thus said he to his apostle, Lovest
thou me 2. Then feed my sheep and feed my
lambs. John xxi. 16. Love to Christ begets
love to his people's souls, which are so pre-
cious to him, and a care of feeding them. He
devolves the working of love toward him,
upon his flock, for their good, puts them in
his room, to receive the benefit of our servi-
ces, which can not reach him considered in
himself: he can receive no other profit from
it. Love, much love, gives much unwearied
care and much skill in this charge. How
sweet is it to him that loves, to bestow him-
self, to spend and be spent, upon his service
whom he loves | Jacob, in the same kind of
service, endured all that was imposed upon
him, and found it light by reason of love, the
cold of the nights, and heat of the days: sev-
en years he served for his Rachel, and they
seemed to him but a few days, because he
loved her. Gen. xxix. 20.
Love is the great endowment of a shepherd
of Christ's flock. He says not to Peter, Art
thou wise, or learned, or eloquent 2 but, Lov-
est thou me 2 Then feed my sheep.
3. The third evil is ambition, and that is
either in the affecting of undue authority, or
the overstrained and tyrannical exercise of
due authority, or to seek those dignities that
suit not with this charge, which is not do-
minium, but ministerium. This temper, there-
fore, is forbidden, Luke xxii. 25, 26: The
kings of the Gentiles eatercise lordship over
them, but ye shall not be so. There is a min-
isterial authority to be used in discipline, and
more sharpness with some than with others;
but still, lowliness and moderation must be
predominant, and not domineering with rig-
or ; rather being examples to the flock in all
holiness, and especially in humility and meek-
ness, wherein our Lord Jesus particularly pro-
pounds his own example: Learn of me, for I
am meek and lowly of heart.
But being ensamples.]. Such a pattern as
they may stamp and print their spirits and
carriage by, and be followers of you, as you
334
[CHAP. W.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
are of Christ. And without this there is lit-
tle or no fruitful preaching. Well says Nazi-
anzen, Either teach not, or teach by living.
So the apostle exhorteth Timothy to be an ex-
ample in word, but withal in conversation.
1 Tim. iv. 12. That is rámos, the best printed
copy.
But this pares off, will some think, all en-
couragements of learning; leaves no advan-
tage, no respect, or authority. Oh, no: it
removes poor worthless encouragements out
of the way, to make place for one great one
that is sufficient, which all the others together
are n0t.
III. The high advantage: And when the
chief Shepherd shall appear, ye shall receive
a crown of glory which fadeth not away.
Thou shaft iose nothing by all that re-
straint from base gain, and vain glory, and
worldly power. No matter, let them all go
for a crown : that weighs them all down ;
that shall abide for ever. Oh, how far more
excellent! A crown of glory, pure, unmixed
glory, without any ingrediency of pride or
sinful vanity, or any danger of it. And a
crown that fadeth 720t, diſtag furt vov, of such a
flower as withers not: not a temporary gar-
land of fading flowers, such as all here are.
TWo to the crown of pride, says the proph-
et, Isaiah xxviii. 1. Though it be made
of flowers growing in a fat valley, yet, their
glorious beauty is a fading flower; but this
will remain fresh and in perfect lustre to all
eternity. May they not well trample on
base gain and vain applause, who have this
Crown to look to ? They that will be con-
tent with those, let them be; but they have
their reward, and it is done and gone, when
faithful followers are to receive theirs. Joys
of royal pomp, marriages and feasts, how
soon do they vanish as a dream . That of
Ahasuerus lasted about half a year, but then
it ended ! And how many since that are gone
and forgotten | But this day begins a tri-
umph and a feast, that shall never either end
or weary, affording still fresh, ever new de-
lights. All things here, the choicest pleas-
ures, cloy, but satisfy not : those above shall
always satisfy, and never cloy, When the
chief Shepherd shall appear. And that shall
shortly be: this moment will shortly be out.
What is to be refused in the way to this
crown 2 All labor is sweet for it. And what
is there here to be desired to detain our
hearts that we should not most willingly let
go, to rest from our labors, and receive our
crown 2 Was ever any king sad to think
that the day of his coronation drew nigh 2
And then, there will be no envy, nor jealous-
ies: all will be kings, each with his crown,
each rejoicing in the glory of the others, and
all in His, who that day shall be all in all.
VER. 5. Likewise, ye, younger, submit yourselves
to the elder; yea, all of you be subject one to an-
other, and be clothed with humility: for God re-
sisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble.
SIN hath disordered all; so that nothing is
to be found but distemper and crookedness in
the condition and ways of men toward God,
and toward one another, till a new Spirit
come in and rectify all. And very much of
that redress lies in this particular grace of
humility, here recommended by the apostle.
That grace regulates the carriage, 1. Of
the younger toward the elder. 2. Of all
men one to another. 3. Of all toward God.
1st. The younger are to be subject to the
elder. Which I take so to refer to difference
of years, that it hath some aspect likewise to
the relation of those that are under the disci-
pline and government of the elders, rosoft repot,
who, though not always such in years, ought,
however, to suit that name in exemplary
gravity and wisdom. It is no seigniory, but
a ministry; yet, there is a sacred authority
in it, when rightly carried, which both duly
challenges, and effectually commands that
respect and obedience which is fit for the
right order and government of the house of
God.
The Spirit of Christ in his ministers, is
the thing that makes them truly elders, and
truly worthy of double honor ; and without
that, men may hunt after respect and credit
by other parts, and the more they follow it,
the faster it flies from them ; or, if they catch
anything of it, they only grasp a shadow.
Infer. Learn, you my brethren, that obedi-
ence which is due to the discipline of God's
house. This is all we plead for in this point.
And know, if you refuse it, and despise the
ordinance of God, he will resent the indig-
nity as done to himself. And Oh, that all
who have that charge of his house upon
them, would mind his interest wholly, and
not rise in conceit of their power, but wholly
employ and improve it for their Lord and
Master, and look on no respect paid to them-
selves as for its own sake desirable, but only
so far as is needful for the profitable dis-
charge and advancement of his work in their
hands ! What are human differences and
regards 2 How empty a vapor And what-
soever it is, nothing is lost by single and en-
tire love of our Lord's glory, and total aiming
at that. Them that honor him, he will hon-
or ; and those that despise him, shall be de-
spised. 1 Sam. ii. 30.
But though this [likewise] implies, I con-
ceive, somewhat relative to the former sub-
ject, yet, certainly, its full scope is more ex-
tensive, and directs us, touching the differ-
ence of years, to yield the subjection; that is,
the respect and reverence which is due from
younger to elder persons. . .
The presumption and unbridleness of youth
require the pressing and binding on of this
rule. And it is of undeniable equity, even
written in nature, as due to aged persons.
But, doubtless, those reap this due fruit in
that season the most, who have ripened it
most by the influence of their grave and holy
carriage. The hoary head is indeed a crown
—but when ?—when found in the way of
WER. 5.]
335
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
righteousness. Prov. xvi. 31. There it shines
and hath a kind of royalty over youth ; oth-
erwise, a graceless old age is a most despica-
ble and lamentable sight. What gains an
unholy old man or woman, by their scores of
years, but the more scores of guiltiness and
misery 3 And their white hairs speak noth-
ing but ripeness for wrath. Oh to be as
a tree planted in the house of the Lord,
bringing forth fruit in old age. Psalm xcii.
12, 13. Much experience in the ways of God,
and much disdain of the world, and much
desire of the love of God, a heavenly temper
of mind and frame of life; this is the advan-
tage of many years. But to have seen and
felt the more misery, and heaped up the more
sin, the greater bundle of it, against the day
of wrath, a woful treasure of it, threescore,
or threescore and ten years a gathering, and
with so much increase every day; no vaca-
tion, no dead years, no, not a day wherein it
was not growing ; how deplorable a case !
A sad reflection, to look back and think,
What have I done for God? and to find
nothing but such a word of sin committed
against him, How much better he who gets
home betimes in his youth, if once delivered
from sin and death, at one with God, and
some way serviceable to him, or desiring to
be so, and who hath a quick voyage, having
lived much in a little time !
2. All of you be subject one to another.
This yet further dilates the duty, makes it
universally mutual ; one subject to another.
This directly turns bout the vain contest of
men, that arises from the natural mischief
of self-love. Every one would carry it, and
be best and highest. The very company of
Christ, and his exemplary lowliness, and the
meanness of himself and those his followers,
all these did not bar out this frothy foolish
question, Who shall be greatest ? And so far
it was disputed, that it occasioned heat about
it, a strife among them. Luke xxii. 24. Now,
this rule is just opposite: each is to strive to
be lowest, subject one to another.
This doth not annul either civil or church
government, nor those differences that are
grounded upon the law of nature, or of civil
society : for we see immediately before, that
such differences are allowed, and the partic-
ular duties of them recommended : but it
only requires that all due respect, according
to their station, be given by each Christian
to another. And though there can not be
such a subjection to masters or parents to
their servants and children, as is due to them
from these, yet, a lowly, meek carrying of
their authority, a tender respect of their
youth, the receiving of an admonition from
them duly qualified, is that which suits with
the rule; and, in general, not delighting in
the trampling on, or abusing of any, but
rather seeking the credit and good esteem of
all as our own; taking notice of that good in
them, wherein they are beyond us (for all
have some advantage, and none hath all);
and, in a word (and it is the precept of St.
Paul, like this of our apostle here), In honor
preferring one another, Rom. xii. 10, q. d. :
Let this be all the strife, who shall put most
respect each on another, according to the ca-
pacity and station of every one : in giving
honor, go each one before another. e
Now, that such carriage may be sincere,
no empty compliment, or court holy water
(as they speak), but a part of the solid holiness
of a Christian, the apostle requires the true
principle of such deportment, the grace of
humility, that a Christian put on that ; not
the appearance of it, to act in as a stage-gar-
ment, but the truth of it, as their constant
habit. Beye clothed with humility. It must
appear in your outward carriage; so the re-
semblance of clothing imports. Butlet it ap-
pear as really it is ; so the very name of it
imports. It is not raretvojavía, but rarewologívn;
not a show of humility, but heart-lowliness,
humility of mind. -
As it is the bent of humility to hide other
graces, so far as piety to God and our brethren
will permit, so, it would willingly hide itself;
it loves not to appear but as necessity urges.
Appear it must, and it doth somewhat more
appear than many other graces do, though it
seeks not to appear. It is seen as a modest
man or woman's apparel, which they wear
not for the end that it may be seen ; they do
not gaudily flaunt and delight, in dressing:
though there is a decency as well as necessity,
which they do and may have respect to, yet
it is in so neat and unaffected a way, that
they are a good example even in that point.
Thus, humility in carriage and words, is as
the decorum of this clothing, but the main is
the real usefulness of it, -
And therefore, a truly humble man desires
not much to appear humble. Yea, were it
not for disedifying his brethren, he would
rather disguise and hide, not only other things
by humility, but even humility itself, and
would be content, upon the mistake of some
words or gestures, to pass for proud and vain,
being humbled within, rather than to be big
in his own eyes, under a semblance of out-
ward lowliness. Yea, were it not that charity
and piety do both forbid it, he would not care
to do some things on purpose that might seem
arrogant, to carry humility unseen, that doth
so naturally delight in covering all graces, and
is sorry that it can not do so without being
seen itself, as that garment that covers the
rest, must of necessity be seen itself. But
seeing it must be so, it is with the least show
that may be, as a dark veil cast about rich
attire, hides their show, and makes very little
itself. e
This, therefore, is mainly to be studied,
that the seat of humility be the heart. Al-
though it will be seen in the carriage, yet as
little as it can ; as few words as may be con-
cerning itself; and those it doth speak, must
be the real thoughts of the mind, and not an
affected voice of it differing from the inward
336
[CHAP. W.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
sense: otherwise, humble speech and carriage
only put on without, and not fastened in the
inside, is the most refined and subtle, and in-
deed the most dangerous kind of pride. And
this I would recommend as a safe way: Ever
let thy thoughts concerning thyself be below
what thou utterest; and what thou seest
needful or fitting to say to thine own abase-
ment, be not only content (which most are
not) to be taken at thy word, and believed to
be such by them that hear thee, but be desir-
ous of it, and let that be the end of thy speech,
to persuade them, and gain it of them, that
they really take thee for as worthless and
mean as thou dost express thyself.
Infer. But how little are we acquainted
with the real frame of Christianity, the most
living without a rule, not laying it to their
words and ways at all, nor yielding so much
as seeming obedience to the gospel; while
others take up a kind of profession, and think
all consists in some religious performances,
and do not study the inward reserve of their
heart-evils, nor labor to have that temple
purged : for the heart should be a temple, and
it stands in much need of a sweeping out of
the filthiness, and putting out of idols. Some
there be, who are much busied about the
matter of their assurance, still upon that point,
which it is lawful indeed, and laudable to in-
quire after, yet not so as to neglect other things
more needful. It were certainly better for
many, when they find no issue that way, to
turn somewhat of their diligence to the study
of Christian graces and duties in their station,
and to task themselves for a time, were it to
the more special seeking, first, of some one
grace, and then, of another, as meekness, and
patience, and this particularly of humility.
To be truly heart-humble—many men despise
it in others: but some that will commend it
in the general, or in some of those in whom
they behold it, yet seek not to put it on them-
selves. They love to be more gay, and to
seem to be somebody, and not to abase them-
selves. It is the way, say they, to be undone.
This clothing is too poor a stuff, and too sad
a color for them. Oh, my brethren, you know
not the excellency of it. Ye look out at a
distance and judge according to your light
vain minds. But will you see it by the light
of the word, and then you shall perceive much
hidden richness and comeliness in it. And
do not only approve it, and call it comely on
others, but put it on, and so, it is most come-
ly. And as it is with respect to all graces,
so, particularly, as to this clothing of humility,
though it make least show, yet, come near,
and you will see it both rich and comely; and
though it hides other graces, yet, when they
do appear under it, as sometimes they will,
a little glance of them so, makes them much
more esteemed. Rebecca's beauty and her
jewels were covered with a veil, but when
they did appear, the veil set them off, and
ºnded them, though at a distance it hid
them.
Again : As in all graces, so, particularly in
this grace, take heed of a disguise or counter-
feit of it. ... Oh, for sincerity in all things, and
particularly in this To be low in thine own
eyes, and willing to be so in the eyes of others,
this is the very upright nature of heart-humili-
ty. 1st. Not to be deluded with a false conceit
of advantages thou hast not. 2dly. Not to be
swelled with a vain conceit of those thou
really hast. 3dly. Not affecting to be esteem-
ed by others, either upon their imagining thee
to have some good that is not in thee, or dis-
cerning that which is. Is not the day at
hand, when men will be taken off the false
heights they stand on, and set on their own
feet; when all the esteem of others shall
Vanish and pass away like smoke, and thou
shalt be just what God finds and accounts
thee, and neither more nor less 2 Oh the
remembrance of that day when a true esti-
mate will be made of all, this would make men
hang less upon the unstable conceits and
opinions of one another, knowing our judg-
ment and day shall shortly end. Be it little
or much that thou hast, the lower and closer
thou carriest it under this cloak, the safer
shall it and thou be, the more shall it increase,
and thou shalt be the liker him in whom all
fulness dwells. In this he hath most express-
ly set himself before us as our pattern ; and
one says well, “Surely, man might now be
constrained to be proud, for whom God him-
self became humble.”
Now, to work the heart to an humble pos-
ture, 1. Look into thyself in earnest : and tru-
ly, whosoever thou be that hast the highest
conceit of thyself, and the highest causes for
it, a real sight of thyself will lay thy crest.
Men look on any good, or any fancy of it, in
themselves, with both eyes, and skip over as
unpleasant their real defects and deformities.
Every man is naturally his own flatterer; oth-
erwise, flatteries, and false cryings up from
others, would make little impression ; but
hence their success, they meet with the same
conceit within. But let any man see his igno-
rance, and lay what he knows not over against
what he knows; the disorders in his heart and
affections, over against any right motion in
them ; his secret follies and sins, against his
outwardly blameless carriage—this man shall
not readily love and embrace himself; yea, it
shall be impossible for him not to abase and
abhor himself.
2. Look on the good in others, and the evil
in thyself; make that the parallel, and then
thou wilt walk humbly. Most men do just the
contrary, and that foolish and unjust compari-
son puffs them up.
3. Thou art not required to be ignorant of
that good which really is so indeed ; but be-
ware of imagining that to be good which is
not ; yea, rather let something that is truly
good pass thy view, and see it within, rather
than beyond its true size. And then, whatso-
ever it be, see it not as thine own, but as
God's, his free gift ; and so, the more thou
WER. 5.]
337
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
hast, looking on it in that view, thou wilt
certainly be the more humble, as having the
more obligations: the weight of them will
press thee down, and lay thee still lower, as
you see it in Abraham—the clear visions and
promises he had made him fall down flat to
the ground. Gen. xv. 12.
4. Pray much for the spirit of humility, the
Spirit of Christ, for that is it ; otherwise, all
thy vileness will not humble thee. When
men hear of this or of other graces, and how
reasonable they are, they think presently to
have them, and do not consider the natural
enmity and rebellion of their own hearts, and
the necessity of receiving them from heaven.
And therefore, in the use of all other means,
be most dependant on that influence, and most
in the use of that means which opens the
heart most to that influence, and draws it
down upon the heart, and that is prayer.
Of all the evils of our corrupt nature, there
is none more connatural and universal than
pride, the grand wickedness, self-exalting in
our own and others’ opinion. Though I will
not contest what was the first step in that
complicated first sin, yet certainly this of
pride was one, and a main ingredient in it—
that which the unbelief conceived going be-
fore, and the disobedience following after,
were both servants to ; and ever since, it
sticks still deep in our nature. St. Augustine
says truly, “That which first overcame man,
is the last thing he overcomes.” Some sins,
comparatively, may die before us, but this
hath life in it, sensibly as long as we. It is
as the heart of all, the first living, and the
last dying; and it hath this advantage, that,
whereas other sins are fomented by one an-
other, this feeds even on virtues and graces
as a moth that breeds in them, and consumes
them, even in the finest of them, if it be not
carefully looked to. This hydra, as one head
of it is cut off, another rises up. It will se-
cretly cleave to the best actions, and prey
upon them. And therefore is there so much
need that we continually watch, and fight,
and pray against it, and be restless in the pur-
suit of real and deep humiliation, daily seek-
ing to advance further in it; to be nothing,
and desire to be nothing; not only to bear, but
to love our own abasement, and the things
that procure and help it, to take pleasure in
them, so far as may be without sin: yea,
even in respect of our sinful failings, when
they are discovered, to love the bringing low
of ourselves by them, while we hate, and
grieve for the sin of them.
And, above all, it is requisite to watch
ourselves in our best things, that self get not
in, or, if it break in, or steal in at any time,
that it be presently found out and cast out
again ; to have that established within us, to
do all for God, to intend him and his glory in
all, and to be willing to advance his glory,
were it by our own disgrace: not to make
raising or pleasing thyself the rule of exer-
cising thy parts and graces, when thou art
called to use and bring them forth, but the
good of thy brethren, and in that, the glory
of thy Lord. Now, this is indeed to be sev-
ered from self and united to him, to have self-
love turned into the love of God. And this is
his own work : it is above all other hands:
therefore the main combat against pride, and
the conquest of it, and the gaining of humili-
ty, is certainly by prayer. God bestows him-
self upon them who are most abundant in
prayer; and they to whom he shows himself
most are certainly the most humble.
Now, to stir us up to diligence in the exer-
cise of this grace, take briefly a consideration
Or tWO.
1. Look on that above pointed at, the high
example of lowliness set before us: Jesus
Christ requiring our particular care to take
this lesson from him. And is it not most rea-
sonable 2 He the most fair, the most excel-
lent and complete of all men, and yet the
most humble ! He more than a man, who
yet willingly became, in some sort, less than
a man, as it is expressed, Psalm xxii. 6, a
worm and no man. And when Majesty itself
emptied itself, and descended so low, shall a
worm swell and be high-conceited ?
Then, consider, it was for us he humbled
himself, to expiate our pride: and therefore
it is evidently the more just that we follow a
pautern which is both so great in itself, and
doth so nearly concern us. O humility, the
virtue of Christ (that which he so peculiarly
espoused), how dost thou confound the vanity
of our pride.
2. Consider the safety of grace under this
clothing; it is that which keeps it unexposed
to a thousand hazards. Humility doth grace
no prejudice in covering it, but indeed shel-
ters it from violence and wrong : therefore
they do justly call it conservatria virtutum,
the preserver of graces; and one says well,
that “he who carries other graces without
humility, carries a precious powder in the
wind without a cover.”
3. Consider the increase of grace by it, as
here expressed ; the perfect enmity of God
against pride, and his bounty toward humili-
ty. He resisteth the proud, and giveth grace
to the humble.
God resisteth the proud [ävrtráocrat], singles
it out for his grand enemy, and sets himself
in battle array against it: so the word is. It
breaks the ranks of men in which he hath set
them, when they are not subject, Útoratogópevoi,
as the word is before ; yea, pride not only
breaks rank, but rises up in rebellion against
God, and doth what it can to dethrone him
and usurp his place: therefore he orders his
forces against it. And to be sure, if God be
able to make his party good, pride shall not
escape ruin. He will break it, and bring it
low : for he is set upon that purpose, and will
not be diverted. -
But he giveth grace—pours it out plentiful:
ly upon humble hearts. His sweet dews and
showers of grace slide off the mountains of
43
338
[CHAP. W.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
pride, and fall on the low valleys of humble
hearts, and make them pleasant and fertile.
The swelling heart, puffed up with a fancy
of fullness, hath no room for grace. It is lift-
ed up, is not hallowed and fitted to receive
and contain the graces that descend from
above. And again, as the humble heart is
most capacious, and, as being emptied and
hollowed, can hold most, so it is the most
thankful, acknowledges all as received, while
the proud cries out that all is his own. The
return of glory that is due from grace, comes
most freely and plentifully from an humble
heart: God delights to enrich it with grace,
and it delights to return him glory. The more
he bestows on it, the more it desires to honor
him with all ; and the more it doth so, the
more readily he bestows still more upon it;
and this is the sweet intercourse between
God and the humble soul. This is the noble
ambition of humility, in respect whereof all
the aspirings of pride are low and base. When
all is reckoned, the lowliest mind is truly the
highest ; and these two agree so well, that
the more lowly it is, it is thus the higher;
and the higher thus, it is still the more lowly.
Oh, my brethren, want of this is a great
cause of all our wants. Why should our God
bestow on us what we would bestow on our
idol, self? Or, if not to idolize thyself, yet to
idolize the thing, the gift that grace bestowed,
to fetch thy believing and comforts from that,
which is to put it in his place who gave, and
to make Baal of it, as some would render Ho-
sea ii. 8.* Now he will not furnish thee thus
to his own prejudice therein. Seek, there-
fore, to have thy heart on a high design, seek-
ing grace still, not to rest in any gift, nor to
grow vain and regardless of him upon it. If
we had but this fixed with us—“What gift
or grace I seek, what comfort I seek, it shall
be no sooner mine, but it shall be all thine
again, and myself with it; I desire nothing
from thee, but that it may come back to thee,
and draw me with it unto thee; this is all my
end, and all my desire”—the request thus
presented would not come back so often un-
answered.
This is the only way to grow quickly rich :
come still poor to him who hath enough ever
to enrich thee, and desire of his riches, not
for thyself, but for him. Mind entirely his
glory in all thou hast and seekest to have.
What thou hast, use so, and what thou want-
est, vow that thou wilt use it so : let it be his
in thy purpose, even before it he thine in pos-
session, as Hannah did in her suit for a son,
1 Sam. i. 11; and thou shalt obtain it as she
did. And then, as she was, be thou faithful
in the performance: Him whom I received
(says she) by petition, I have returned to the
Lord.
It is undoubtedly the secret pride and self-
* The words Gnasu Lebagnol, which we render
which they prepared for Baal, may, as the margin
notes, be translated wherewith they made Baal,—DR.
DoDDRIDGE.
ishness of our hearts, that obstruct much of
the bounty of God’s hand in the measure of
our graces, and the sweet embraces of his
love, which we should otherwise find. The
more that we let go of ourselves, still the
more should we receive of himself. Oh, fool-
ish we, who refuse so blessed an exchange
To this humility, as in these words it is
taken in the notion of our inward thoughts
touching ourselves, and our carriage in rela-
tion to others, the apostle joins the other hu-
mility, in relation to God ; being indeed the
different actings of one and the same grace,
. inseparably connected each with the
Other.
VER.6. Humble yourselves, therefore, under the migh-
ty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time.
THIS is pressed by a reason both of equity
and necessity, in that word. The might
hand of God. He is sovereign Lord of alſ,
and all things do obeisance to him ; there-
fore it is just, that you his people, professing
loyalty and obedience to him, be most sub-
missive and humble in your subjection to him
in all things. Again, mark the necessity, his
mighty hand: there is no striving, it is a vain
thing to flinch and struggle, for he doth what
he will. And his hand is so mighty, that the
greatest power of the creature is nothing to
it. Yea, it is all indeed derived from him,
and therefore can not do any whit against
him. 1ſ thou wilt not yield, thou must yield:
if thou wilt not be led, thou shalt be pulled
and drawn. Therefore, submission is your
only course.
A third reason by which this duty is pressed,
is that of utility, or the certain advantage of
it. As there is nothing to be gained, yea, ra-
ther, as you are certainly ruined by reluctance,
so this humble submission is the only way to
gain your point. What would you have un-
der any affliction, but be delivered and raised
up ! Thus alone can you attain that: Hum-
ble yourselves, and he shall raise you up in
due time.
This is the end why he humbles you: he
lays weights upon you, that you may be de-
pressed. Now, when this end is gained, that
you are willingly so, then the weights are
taken off, and you are lifted up by his gra-
cious hand. Otherwise, it is not enough that
he hath humbled you by his hand, unless you
humble yourselves under his hand. Many
have had great and many pressures, one af.
fliction after another, and been humbled, and
yet not made humble, as they commonly ex-
press the difference: humbled by force in re-
gard of their outward condition, but not hum-
bled in their inward temper; and therefore.
as soon as the weight is off, like heaps of
wool, they rise up again, and grow as big as
they were. tº gº
If we would consider this in our particular
trials, and aim at this deportment, it were
our wisdom. Are they not mad, who, under
any stroke, quarrel or struggle against God 2
VER. 6.]
339
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
what gain your children thus at your hands,
but more blows 3 Nor is this only an un-
seemly and unhappy way, openly to resist
and strive, but even secretly to fret and grum-
ble ; for he hears the least whispering of the
heart, and looks most how that behaves it-
self under his hand. Oh, humble acceptance
of his chastisement, is our duty and our peace;
that which gains most on the heart of our
Father, and makes the rod fall soonest out of
his hand.
And not only should we learn this in our
Outward things, but in our spiritual condi-
tion, as the thing the Lord is much pleased
with in his children. There is a stubborn-
ness and fretting of heart concerning our
souls, that arises from pride and the untam-
edness of our nature; and yet some take a
pleasure in it, touching the matter of comfort
and assurance, if it be withheld. Or (which
they take more liberty in), if it be sanctifica-
tion and victory over sin they seek, and yet
find little or no success, but the Lord holding
them under in these, they then vex them-
selves, and wax more discontented, and noth-
ing pleases them: as peevish children, up-
on the refusal of somewhat they would have,
take displeasure, and make no account of the
daily provision made for them, and all the
other benefits they have by the care and love
of their parents. This is a folly very unbe-
seeming the children that are the children of
wisdom, and should walk as such ; and till they
learn more humble respect for their Father's
will, they are still the farther off from their
purpose. Were they once brought to submit
the matter, and give him heartily his will, he
Would readily give them theirs, as far as it
were for their good : as you say to your chil-
dren, of anything they are too stiff and earnest
in, and make a noise for, “Cry not for it, and
you shall have it.”
And this is the thing we observe not, that
the Lord often by his delays, is aiming at
this; and were this done, we can not think
how graciously he would deal with us. His
gracious design is, to make much room for
grace, by much humbling ; especially in some
spirits which need much trying, or when he
means much to enable for some singular ser-
vice. And thus, the time is not lost, as we are
apt to imagine, but it furthers our end, while
We think the contrary. It is necessary time
and pains that are given to the unballasting of
a ship, the casting out of the earth and sand,
when it is to be laden with spices. We must
be emptied more, if we would have more of
that fulness and riches which we are long-
ing for.
So long as we fume and chafe against his
way, though it be in our best supplications,
we are not in a posture for a favorable an-
swer. Would we wring things out of his
hand by fretfulness 2 That is not the way :
no ; but present humble submissive suits:
“Lord, this is my desire, but thou art wise
and gracious; I refer the matter to thy will for
the thing, and for the measure, and for the
time, and all.” Were we moulded to this
composure, then were mercy near. When he
hath gained this, broken our will and tamed
our stoutness, then he relents and pities. See
Jer. XXX. 17, 18. Because they called thee an
outcast, &c., thus saith the Lord, behold, I
will bring again the captivity of Jacob's
tents, &c.
This I would recommend in any estate, the
humble folding under the Lord's hand, kis-
sing the rod, and falling low before him ; and
this is the way to be raised. But there may
be some one who thinks he hath tried this
awhile, and is still at the same point, hath
gained nothing, and he may therefore be ready
to fall back to his old repinings; let such a
one know that his humbling and compliance
were not upright; it was a fit of false, con-
strained submission, and therefore lasts mot;
it was but a tempting of God, instead of sub-
mitting to him. “Oh, will he have a sub-
mission ? I will try it, but with this reserve,
that if after such a time I gain not what I
seek, I shall think it is lost, and that I have
reason to return to my discontent.” Though
the man says not thus, yet this meaning is
secretly under it. But wouldst thou have it
right, it must be without condition, without
reserve ; no time, nor anything, prescribed :
and then he will make his word good, he will
raise thee up, and that
In due time. Not thy fancied time, but
his own wisely appointed time. . Thou think-
est, now I am sinking ; if he help not now, it
will be too late. Yet he sees it otherwise : he
can let thee sink still lower, and yet bring thee
up again. He doth but stay till the most fit
time. Thou canst not see it now, but thou
shalt see it, that his chosen time is absolute-
ly best. God waiteth to be gracious. Isa.
xxx. 18. Doth he wait, and wilt not thou ?
Oh, the firm belief of his wisdom, power, and
goodness, what difficulty will it not sur-
mount 2 So then, be humbie under his hand.
Submit not only thy goods, thy health, thy
life, but thy soul. Seek and wait for thy par-
don as a condemned rebel, with thy rope
about thy neck. Lay thyself low before him,
stoop at his feet, and crave leave to look up,
and speak, and say: “Lord, I am justly under
the sentence of death : if I fall under it, thou
art righteous, and I do here acknowledge it;
but there is deliverance in Christ, thither I
would have recourse: yet, if I be beaten back,
and kept out, and faith withheld from me,
and I perish, as it were, in view of salvation;
if I see the rock, and yet can not come at it,
but drown ; what have I to say ? In this,
likewise, thou art righteous. Only, if it seem
good unto thee to save the vilest, mcst
wretched of sinners, and to show great mer-
cy in pardoning so great debts, the higher
will be the glory of that mercy. However,
here I am resolved to wait, till either thou
graciously receive me, or absolutely reject
me. If thou do this, I have not a word to
340
[CHAP. W.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
Say against it; but because thou art gracious,
I hope, I hope thou wilt yet have mercy on
me, I dare say that the promise in the text
belongs to such a soul, and it shall be raised
wp in due time.
And what though most, or all of our life,
should pass without much sensible taste even
of spiritual comforts, a poor all it is . Let us
not over-esteem this moment, and so think too
much of our better or worse condition in it,
either in temporals, or even in spirituals, so
far as regards such things as are more arbi-
trary and accessory to the name of our spirit-
ual life. Provided we can humbly wait for
free grace and depend on the word of prom-
ise, we are safe. If the Lord will clearly
shine on us, and refresh us, this is much to
be desired and prized ; but if he so think fit,
what if we should be all our days held at a
distance, and under a cloud of wrath 2 It is
but a moment in his anger. Psalm xxx. 5.
Then follows a life-time in his favor, an end-
less life-time. It is but weeping (as it there
follows) for a night, and joy comes in the
norning, that clearer morning of Eternity, to
which no evening succeeds.
VER. 7. Casting all your care upon him, for he careth
for you.
AMONG other spiritual seerets, this is one,
and a prime one, the combination of lowli-
ness and boldness, humble confidence: this is
the true temper of a child of God toward his
great and good Father; nor can any have it,
but they who are indeed his children, and
have within them that spirit of adoption
which he sends into their hearts. Gala-
tians iv. 6.
And these two the apostle here joins to-
gether ; Humble yourselves under the hand of
God, and yet cast your care on him : upon
that same hand under which you ought to
humble yourselves, must you withal cast
over your care, all your care; for he careth
jor you.
Consider, I. The nature of this confidence,
casting all your care on him. II. The
ground or warrant of it, For he careth for
3/0tt.
I. For the nature of it. Every man hath
Some desires and purposes that are predomi-
nant with him, besides those that relate to
the daily exigencies of life with which he is
compassed; and in both, according to their
importance or his estimate of them, and the
difficulties occurring in them, he is naturally
carried to be proportionally thoughtful and
careful in them. Now, the excess and dis-
temper of this care, is one of the great dis-
eases and miseries of man's life. Moral men,
perceiving and feeling it, have been tamper-
ing at the cure, and prescribing after their
fashion, but with little success. Some pres-
ent abatement and allay of the paroxysm or
extremity, their rules may reach ; but they
never go near the bottom, the cause of the
evil, and therefore can not work a thor-
ough sound cure of it. Something they have
spoken, somewhat fitly, of the surpassing of
nature's rule and size in the pursuit of super-
fluous, needless things; but, for the unavoid-
able care of things needful, they know no re-
dress, but refer men entirely to their own in-
dustry and diligence. They can tell how lit-
tle will serve him who seeks no more than
what will serve, but how to be provided with
that little, or to be assured of it, and freed
from troubling care, they can not tell.
Now, truly it were a great point, to be well
instructed in the former ; and it is necessary
for the due practice of the rule here given,
touching necessary cares, first, to cut off cares
unnecessary, to retrench all extravagant, Su-
perfluous desires. For, certainly, a great
part of the troublous cares of men, relate
merely to such things as have no other ne-
cessity in them, than what our disordered de-
sires create, nor truly any real good in them,
but what our fancy puts upon them. Some
are indeed forced to labor hard for their dai-
ly bread ; but, undoubtedly, a great deal of
the sweat and toil of the greatest part of men
is about unnecessaries: ad supervacua suda-
tur. Such an estate, so much by the year,
such a place, so much honor, and esteem,
and rank in the world,—these are the things
that make some slaves to the humors of
others, whom they court, and place their de-
pendance on, for these ends; and those, pos-
sibly, to whom they are so enthralled, are
themselves at as little liberty, but captivated to
the humors of some others, either above them,
or who being below them, may give accession
and furtherance to their ends of enrichment,
advancement, or popularity. Men who are
set on these things, forge necessities to them-
selves, and make vain things as necessary as
food and raiment, resolving that they will
have them, or fall in the chase, being wil-
fully and unavoidably bent on them. They
that will be rich, says the apostle (1 Tim. vi.
9), who are resolved on it upon any terms,
meet with terms hard enough, they fall in-
to temptation, and a snare, and into many
foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in
destruction and perdition. Drown them :
there is no recovering, but still they are
plunged deeper and deeper. Foolish lusts :
unreasonable, childish desires; after one bar-
gain, such another, and after one sin, another
to make even, and somewhat then to keep.
that whole, and so on without end. If their’
hearts are set upon purchase and land, still
some house and neighbor-field, some Naboth's
vineyard is in their eyes, and all the rest is
nothing without that, which discovers the
madness of this humor, this dropsy-thirst.
And this is the first thing, indeed, to be
looked to, that our desires and cares be
brought to a due compass. And what would
we have 2 Think we that contentment lies
in so much, and no less 2 When that is at-
tained, it shall appear as far off as before.
When children are at the foot of a high hill,
VER. 7.]
341
FIRST EPISTI,E OF PETER.
they think it reaches the heavens, and yet, if
they were there, they would find themselves as
far off as before, or at least not sensibly near-
er. Men think, Oh, had I this, I were well ;
and when it is reached, it is but an advanced
standing from which to look higher, and spy
out for some other thing.
We are indeed children in this, to think
the good of our estate lies in the greatness,
and not in the fitness of it for us. He were a
fool that would have his clothes so, and think
the bigger and longer they were, they would
please him the better. And certainly, as in
apparel, so in place and estate, and all out-
ward things, their good lies not in their great-
mess, but in their fitness for us. Our Savior
tells us expressly, that man’s life consisteth
not in the abundance of the things he posses-
seth, Luke xii. 13. Think you that great and
rich persons live more content 2 Believe it
not. . If they will deal freely, they can tell
you the contrary ; that there is nothing but a
show in them, and that great estates and
places have great grief and cares attend-
ing them, as shadows are proportioned to
their bodies. And if they have no real
crosses, luxury frames troubles to itself; like
a variety of dishes corrupting the stomach
and causing variety of diseases. And instead
of need, they have fantastic vain discontents
that will trouble men as much as greater, be it
but this hawk flies not well, or that dog runs
not well, to men whose hearts are in those
games.
So then, I say, this is first to be regulated :
all childish, vain, needless cares are to be
discharged, and, as being unfit to cast on thy
God, are to be quite cast out of thy heart.
Entertain no care at all but such as thou
may est put into God’s hands, and make his
on thy behalf; such as he will take off thy
hand, and undertake for thee.
All needful lawful care, and that only, will
he receive. So then, rid thyself quite of all
that thou canst not take this course with, and
then, without scruple, take confidently this
course with all the rest. Seek a well-regu-
lated, sober spirit. In the things of this life,
be content with food and raiment ; not deli-
eates, but food ; not ornament, but raiment,
Toophy of rovºv, a ketāquara oi koguńuara; and con-
clude, that what thy father carves to thee is
best for thee, the fittest measure, for he knows
it, and loves thee wisely. This course our
Savior would have thee take, Matt. vi. 31;
first, to cut off superfluous care, then, to turn
over on thy God the care of what is neces-
sary. He will look to that, thou hast him
engaged ; and he can and will give thee be-
yond that, if he sees it fit.
Only, this is required of thee, to refer the
matter to his discretion entirely. Now, in
thy thus well-regulated affairs and desires,
there is a diligent care and study of thy duty;
this he lays on thee. There is a care of sup-
port in the work, and of the success of it;
this thou oughtest to lay on him. And so in-
deed, all the care is turned off from thee up-
on him, even that of duty, which from him
lies on us. We offer our service, but for skill
and strength to discharge it, that care we lay
on him, and he allows us to do so; and then,
for the event and success, with that we trust
him entirely. And this is the way to walk
contentedly and cheerfully homeward, lean-
ing and resting all the way on him, who is
both our guide and our strength, who hath
us and all our good in his gracious hand.
Much zeal for him, and desire of his glory,
minding our duty in relation to that, is the
thing he requires, and while we are bending
our whole care to that, he undertakes the
care of us and our condition: as that king
said to his favorite, when persuading him to
fidelity and diligence in his state-trust, “Do
my affairs, and I will do yours.” Such a
word directly hath St. Chrysostom: 20 peoi-
uvnoov rà roi; 68.05 kat airós peppyńget rô adv : f
thou have a concern for the things that are
God’s, he will also be careful with thee and
thine.
The care of duty thus carried, is sweet
and light, doth not cut and divide the mind;
it is united and gathered in God, and rests
there, and walks in his hand all the way.
He bears the weight of all our works, and
works them in us, and for us; and therein lies
Our peace, that he ordains for us. Isa. xxvi.
12. If thou wouldst shake off the yoke of
obedience, thou art likewise to be shaken off
thyself; but if, in humble diligence in the
ways of God, thou walk on in his strength,
there is nothing that concerns thee and thy
work, but he will take the charge and care of
thyself, and all thine interests. Art thou
troubled with fears, enemies, and snares?
Untrouble thyself of that, for he is with thee.
He hath promised to lead thee in a straight
and safe path, Psalm xxvii. 11; and to rebuke
all thine enemies, to subdue thine iniquities
for thee, Micah vii. 19 ; and to fight against
those that fight against thee, Psalm XXXV. 1.
No weapon formed against thee shall prosper,
Isa. liv. 17; yea, when thou passest through
the water, and through the fire, he will be with
thee, Isa. xliii. 2. Doth thine own weakness
discourage thee ? Hath he not engaged for
that too 2 So lay over that care upon him.
Hath he not spoken of strengthening the
weak hands and feeble knees, and said, that
the lame shall leap as an hart 2 Isa. xxxv. 3,
6. And though there is nothing in thyself but
unrighteousness and weakness, yet there is
in him for thee, righteousness and strength,
Isa. xlv. 24—righteousness, to express the
abundance of righteousness. When thou art
ready to faint, a look to him will revive thee;
a believing look draws in of his strength to
thy soul, and renews it. Isa. xl. 29. And
know, the more tender and weak thou art,
the more tender he is over thee, and the more
strong will he be in thee. He feeds his flock
like a shepherd, and the weakest he is the
most careful of: they are carried in his arms
342
[CHAP. W.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
and his bosom, Isa. xl. 11, and it is easy for
the feeblest to go so.
And as for the issue and success of thy
way, let not that trouble thee at all : that is
the care he would have thee wholly disbur-
den thyself of, and lay entirely upon him.
Do not vex thyself with thinking, how will
this and that be, what if this and the other
fall out. That is his part wholly, and if
thºu meddle with it, thou at once displeasest
him, and disquietest thyself. This sin car-
ries the punishment of it close tied to it. If
thou wilt be struggling with that which be-
longs not to thee, and poising at that burden
that is not thine, what wonder, yea, I may
say, what pity if thou fall under it 2 Art
thou not well served ? Is it not just, that iſ
thou wilt do for thyself, and bear for thy-
self, what thy Lord calls for to bear for thee,
thou shouldst feel the weight of it to thy cost?
But what is the way of this devolving of
my burden 2 There is a faculty in it that all
persons have not : though they would do
thus with it, they can not ; it lies on them,
and they are not able to cast it on God. The
way is, doubtless, by praying and believing:
these are the hands by which the soul can
turn over to God what itself can not bear :
all cares, the whole bundle, is most dexter-
ously transferred thus. Be careful in moth-
ing. Phil. iv. 6. A great word " Oh, but
how shall it be 2 Why thus, says he, In all
things make §: requests known unto God,
and in a confident cheerful way, supplication
mixed with thanksgiving ; so shall it be the
more lively and active to carry forth, and car-
ry up thy cares, and discharge thee of them,
and lay them on God. Whatsoever it is that
presses thee, go tell thy Father ; put over the
matter into his hand, and so thou shalt be
freed from pepigya, that dividing, perplexing
care, that the World is full of.
No more, but when thou art either to do or
suffer anything, when thou art about any pur-
pose or business, go tell God of it, and ac-
quaint him with it; yea, burden him with it,
and thou hast done for matter of caring: no
more care, but quiet, sweet diligence in thy
duty, and dependance on him for the carriage
of thy matters. And in this prayer, faith
acts: it is a believing requesting. Ask in
ſº. not doubting. Jam. i. 6. So thou rol-
est over all on him; that is the very proper
working of faith, the carrying the soul, and
all its desires, out of itself unto God, as ex-
pressed Psalm xxxvi. 5: roll over on God—
make one bundle of all ; roll thy cares, and
thyself with them,as one burden allon thy God.
Now faith, to do this, stays itself on the
promise. It can not move but on firm ground,
and the promises are its ground; and for this
end is this added, he careth for thee.
This must be established in the heart. 1.
The firm belief of the divine providence, that
all things are managed and ruled by it, and
that in the highest power and wisdom ; that
there is no breaking of his purposes, nor re-
sisting of his power. The counsel of the Lord
standeth for ever, and the thoughts of his
heart to all generations. Psalm. xxxiii. 11.
2. The belief of his gracious providence to
his own people, that he orders all for their
true advantage, and makes all different lines
and ways concentre in their highest good;
all to meet in that, how opposite soever in
appearance. See Rom. viii. 28. 3. A par-
ticular confidence of his good-will toward
thee, and undertaking for thee. Now, if this
be the question, the promise resolves thee:
trust him, and he takes on the trust, and there
is no other condition; cast on him thy care,
and he takes it on, he cares for thee. His
royal word is engaged not to give thee the
slip, if thou do really lay it upon him. Cast
thy burden upon the Lord, Psalm lv. 22;-
hand it over, heave it upon him—and he shall
sustain thee ; shall bear both, if thou trust
him with both, both thee and thy burden : He
shall never suffer the righteous to be moved.
Inf. 1. The children of God have the only
sweet life. The world thinks not so, rather
looks on them as poor, discontented, lowering
creatures; but it sees not what an uncaring,
truly secure life they are called to. While
others are turmoiling and wrestling, each with
his projects and burdens for himself, and are
at length crushed and sinking under them (for
that is the end of all that do for themselves),
the child of God goes free from the pressure
of all that concerns him, it being laid over on
his God. If he use his advantage, he is not
racked with musings, Oh what will become
of this and that ; but goes on in the strength
of his God as he may, offers up poor, but sin-
cere endeavors to God, and is sure of one thing,
that all shall be well. He lays his affairs and
himself on God, and so hath no pressing care;
no care but the care of love, how to please,
how to honor his Lord. And in this, too, he
depends on him, both for skill and strength ;
and touching the success of things, he leaves
that as none of his to be burdened with, casts
it on God, and since he careth for it, they need
not both care, his care alone is sufficient.
Hence springs peace, inconceivable peace.
Be careful for nothing, but in everything, by
prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving,
let your requests be made known unto God.
And the peace of God, which passeth all un-
derstanding, shall keep your hearts and
minds, through Jesus Christ. Phil. iv. 6, 7.
Inf. 2. But truly, the godly are much want-
ing to themselves, by not improving this their
privilege. They too often forget this their
sweet way, and fret themselves to no purpose;
they wrestle with their burdens themselves,
and do not entirely and freely roll them over
on God. They are surcharged with them,
and he calls for them, and yet they will not
give them him. They think to spare him,
but indeed, in this, they disobey, and dishonor,
and so grieve him; and they find the grief
return on themselves, and yet can not learn
to be wise.
WER. 8, 9.]
343
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
Why deal we thus with our God and with
our souls, grieving both at once 2 Let it never
be, that for any outward thing thou perplex
thyself, and ravel thy thoughts, as in thickets,
with the cares of this life. Oh, how unsuita-
ble are these to a child of God, for whom a
life so far more excellent is provided ! Hath
he prepared a kingdom for thee, and will he
not bestow thy charges in the way to it?
Think it not : He knoweth you have need of
these things. Matt. vi. 32. Seek not vain
things, nor great things: for these, it is like-
ly, are not fit for thee; but seek what is need-
ful and convenient in his judgment, and refer
thyself to that.
Then, as for thy spiritual estate, lay over
upon God the care of that too. Be not so
much in thorny questionings, doubting and
disputing at every step, Oh, is this accepted,
and that accepted, and, so much deadness |
&c.; but apply thyself more simply to thy
duty. Lamely as it may be, halt on, and be-
lieve that he is gracious and pities thee, and
lay the care of bringing thee through upon
him. Lie not complaining and arguing, but
up and be doing, and the Lord shall be with
thee. 1 Chron. xxii. 16. I am persuaded that
many a soul that hath some truth of grace,
falls much behind in the progress, by this
accustomed way of endless questionings.
Men can scarcely be brought to examine and
suspect their own condition, being carnally
secure, and satisfied that all is well ; but then,
when once they awaken and set to this, they
are ready to entangle themselves in it, and
neglect their way, by poring on their condi-
tion. They will not set cheerfully to any-
thing, because they want assurances and
height of joy ; and this course they take is
the way to want it still. Walking humbly
and sincerely, and offering at thy duty, and
waiting on the Lord, is certainly the better
way, and nearer that very purpose of thine ;
for he meeteth him that rejoiceth and worketh
righteousness, those that remember him in his
ways. Isa. lxiv. 5. One thing the Christian
should endeavor to obtain, firm belief for the
church : all the care of that must be cast on
God, that he will beautify Zion, and perform
all his word to her. And then think, do I
trust him for the whole church, and the great
affairs concerning it, and shall I doubt him
for myself, or anything that concerns me !
Do I confide in him for the steering and guid-
ance of the whole ship, and shall I be peevish-
ly doubting and distrusting about my pack
in it 2
Again, when in addition to the present and
the past, thou callest in after evils by advance,
and art still revolving the dangers before, and
thy weakness. It is good, indeed, to enter-
tain by these, holy fear and self-distrust; but
by that, be driven in to trust on him who un-
dertakes for thee, on him in whom thy
strength lies, and be as sure and confident in
him, as thou art, and justly art, distrustful of
thyself.
Further, learn to proscribe nothing. Study
entire resignation, for that is thy great duty
and thy peace; that gives up all into the hand
of thy Lord, and can it be in a better hand 2
First, refer the carving of outward things to
him, heartily and fully. Then, stay not there,
but go higher. If we have renounced the
comforts of this world for God, let us add this,
renounce even spiritual comforts for him too:
Put all in his will: If I be in light, blessed
be thou; and if in darkness, even then, bless-
ed be thou too. As he saith of earthly trea-
sures, gold is mine, and silver is mine—(and
this may satisfy a Christian in those two, to
desire no more of them than his Father sees
fit to give, knowing that he, having all the
mines and treasures of the world at his com-
mand, would not pinch and hold short his
children, if it were good for them to have
more); even thus it is in respect to the other,
the true riches: Is not the Spirit mine, may
God say, and all comforts mine? have
them to bestow, and enough of them. And
ought not this to allay thy afflicting care, and
to quiet thy repinings, and establish thy heart,
in referring it to his disposal, as touching thy
comfort and supplies 2 The whole golden
mines of all spiritual comfort and good are
his, and the Spirit itself. Then, will he not
furnish what is fit for thee, if thou humbly
attend on him, and lay the care of providing
for thee upon his wisdom and love? This
were the sure way to honor him with what
we have, and to obtain much of what we
have not; for certainly he deals best with those
that do most absolutely refer all to him.
VER. S. Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversa-
ry the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seek-
ing whom he may devour.
VER. 9. Whom resist, steadfast in the faith, knowing
that the same afflictions are accomplished in your
brethren that are in the world.
THE children of God, if they rightly take
their Father's mind, are always disburdened
of perplexing carefulness, but never exempted
from diligent watchfulness. Thus we find
here, they are allowed, yea, enjoined, to cast
all their care upon their wise and loving Fa-
ther, and are secured by his care. He takes it
well that they lay all over on him, yea, he takes
it not well, when they forbear him, and bur-
den themselves. He hath provided a sweet
quiet life for them, could they improve and
use it; a calm and firm condition in all the
storms and troubles that are about them :
however things go, to find content, and be
careful for nothing. e
Now, upon this, a carnal heart would in-
agine straight, according to its sense and in-
clination—as it desires to have it, so would it
dream that it is—that then, a man devolving
his care on God, may give up all watch, and
ward, and needs not apply himself to any kind
of duty. But this is the ignorant and per-
verse mistake, the reasonless reasoning of the
flesh. You see these are here joined, not only
as agreeable, but indeed inseparable: Cast
344
[CHAP. W.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
all your care on him, for he careth for you,
and withal, be sober, be vigilant.
And this is the Scripture logic. It is he
that workelh in you to will and to do. Phil.
ii. 13. Then, would you possibly think, I
need not work at all, or, if I do, it may be
very easily and securely. No : therefore, says
the apostle, because he worketh in you to
will and to do, work out your salvation, yea,
and do it with fear and trembling ; work you
in humble obedience to his command, and in
dependance on him who workelh all in you.
Thus, here. Cast your care on him, not
that you may be the more free to take your
own pleasure and slothful ease, but, on the
contrary, that you may be the more active
and apt to watch; being freed from the bur-
den of vexing carefulness, which would press
and encumber you, you are the more nimble,
as one eased of a load, to walk, and work,
and watch as becomes a Christian. And for
this very purpose is that burden taken off from
you, that you may be more able and disposed
for every duty that is laid upon you.
Observe these two as connected, and thence
gather first, there is no right believing with-
out diligence and watchfulness joined with it.
That slothful reliance of most souls on blind
thoughts of mercy will undo them: their faith
is a dead faith, and a deadly faith ; they are
perishing and will not consider it. Such per-
sons do not duly cast their care on God for
their souls, for indeed they have no such care.
Secondly, there is no right diligence without
believing.
There is, as in other affairs, so, even in
spiritual things, an anxious perplexing care,
which is a distemper and disturbance to the
soul: it seems to have a heat of zeal and af-
fection in it, but is, indeed, not the natural
right heat that is healthful, and enables for
action, but a diseased, feverish heat, that puts
all out of frame, and unfits for duty. It seems
to stir and further, but indeed it hinders, and
does not hasten us, but so as to make us stum-
ble : as if there was one behind a man, dri-
ving and thrusting him forward, and not suf-
fering him to set and order his steps in his
course, this were the ready way, instead of
advancing him, to weary him, and possibly
give him a fall.
Such is the distrustful care that many have
in their spiritual course: they raise a hundred
questions about the way of their performances,
and their acceptance, and their estate, and the
issue of their endeavors. Indeed, we should
endeavor to do all by our rule, and to walk
exactly, and examine our ways; especially
in holy things, to seek some insight and facul-
ty in their performance, suiting their nature
and end, and his greatness and purity whom
we worship. This should be minded dili-
gently, and yet calmly and composedly; for
diffident doubtings do retard and disorder all.
But quiet stayedness of heart on God, depen-
dance on him, on his strength for performance,
and his free love in Christ for acceptance, this
makes the work go kindly and sweetly on,
makes it pleasing to God, and refreshing to
thy soul.
Inf. Certainly, thou art a vexation to thy-
self, and displeasest thy Lord, when thou art
questioning whether thou shalt go on or not,
from finding in thy service so much deadness
and hardness; thinking, therefore, that it were
as good to do nothing, that thou dost but dis-
honor him in all. Now, thou considerest not,
that in these very thoughts thou dost more
wrong and dishonor him than in thy worst
services : for thou callest in question his lenity
and goodness, takest him for a rigorous exac-
ter, yea, representest him to thyself as a hard
master, who is the most gentle and gracious
of all masters. Do not use him so. Indeed,
thou oughtest to take heed to thy foot, to see
how thy heart is affected in his worship.
Keep and watch it as thou canst, but in doing
so, or in endeavoring to do, however thou find
it, do not think he will use rigors with thee;
but the more thou observest thine own mis-
carriages toward him, the less severely will
he observe them. To think otherwise, to
fret and repine that thy heart is not to his
mind, nor indeed to thine own, to go on in a
discontented impatience, this is certainly not
the commanded watchfulness, but that forbid-
den carefulness.
Be sober.]. This we have formerly spoken
of, the apostle having formerly exhorted to it
once and again in this epistle. It were easy
to entertain men's minds with new discourse,
if our task were rather to please than to profit;
for there be many things which, with little
labor, might be brought forth as new and
strange to ordinary hearers. But there be a
few things which chiefly concern us to know
and practise, and these are to be more fre-
quently represented and pressed. This apos-
tle, and other inspired writers, drew from too
full a spring to be ebb of matter; but they
rather chose profitable iterations, than un-
profitable variety ; and so Ought we.
This sobriety is not only temperance in
meat and drink, but in all things that con-
cern the flesh. Even that of diet is, though
not all, yet a very considerable part of it; and
this not only hath implied in it, that one ex-
ceed not in the quantity or quality, but even
requires a regulating of ourselves in the man-
ner of using our repast : that as we are not to
make careful and studious provision, or to
take up our thoughts how to please our pal-
ate, so, even in the use of sober, mean diet,
we endeavor the mortifying of our flesh, not
to eat and drink merely to please ourselves,
or to satisfy our natural desire, but for God;
even to propound this in our sitting down to
it in obedience to him ; to use these helps
of life, and the life itself, to be spent in his
obedience, and in endeavoring to advance his
glory.
It is a most shameful idol, a dunghill-god
indeed, to serve the belly, and to delight in
feastings, or, in our ordinary repast, laying
WER. 8, 9.]
345
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
the reins loose on our appetite to take its own
career. And yet, in this, men most common-
ly offend, even persons that are not notably
intemperate, neither gluttonous nor drunken,
and yet, I say, have not that holy, retained,
bridled way of using their repast, with an eye
upon a higher end.
But this sobriety, in its ample sense, binds
not only that sense of lust, but all the rest in
the use of their several delights, yea, and in
the whole man, all the affections of the soul,
in relation to this world, and the things of it:
we are to be in it as weaned from it, and
raised above it in the bent of our minds; to
use it as if we used it not. 1 Cor. Wii. 31.
This we speak and hear of, but do not ap-
ply ourselves really to this rule. Each hath
some trifle or earthly vanity, one or more, but
especially some choice one, that he can not
be taken off from ; as children readily have
some toy that they set more by than the rest.
We have childish hearts cleaving to Vanity ;
one hankering after some preferment, another
after some estate, lands, or houses, or money.
And we are drunk in the pursuit of these, so
that when our hearts should be fixed on Di-
vine exercises, they can not stand, but reel to
and fro, or stumble down and fall asleep, ro-
wing after those thoughts of that which we
affect, staggering ever and anon, or else so
plunged in them all the time, that we are as
asleep in them. -
Therefore, these two are here, and ordina-
rily, joined, Be sober and watchful. Glutting
ourselves either with the delights, or with the
desires and cares of earth, makes us sleepy:
the fumes that arise from them surcharge us,
and cast us into a deep sleep—a secure un-
minding of God and of ourselves, the interest
of our immortal souls.
The pleasures of sense are too gross for the
Divine soul. Divine, I call it, for so by origi-
mal it is ; but we abase it, and make it flesh
by those gross earthly things, and make it
unfit to rise heavenward. As insobriety, in-
temperance in diet, prejudices, the very natu-
ral spirits, making them dull, clogs their pas-
sage, and makes them move as a coach in a
miry way, thus doth all inordinate use and
love of inferior things: it makes the soul of a
low, heavy constitution, so that it can not
move freely in anything that is spiritual. Yea,
where there is some truth of grace, yet it is
obstructed and dulled by taking in too much
of the world, and feeding on it; which is no
more proper for the finest part of the man,
for the soul, than the coarse ploughman's
diet is for delicate, tender bodies of higher
breeding; yea, the disproportion is far greater.
If, then, you would have free spirits for
spiritual things, keep them at a spare diet in
all things temporal. Let not out your hearts
to anything here below. Learn to delight in
God, and seek to taste of his transcendent
sweetness: that will perfectly disrelish all
lower delights. So your sobriety in abstain-
ing from them shall be still further recom-
pensed with more enjoyment of God, and you
shall not lose pleasure by denying yourself the
pleasures of earth, but shall change them for
those that are unspeakably better and purer
in their stead. He shall communicate him-
self unto you, the light of whose countenance
feeds and satisfies the glorified spirits that are
about his throne.
Be vigilant.] This watchfulness, joined
with sobriety, extends to all the estates and
ways of a Christian, being surrounded with
hazards and snares. He that despiseth his
way shall die, says Solomon, Proverbs xix. 16.
The most do thus walk at random : they give
attendance on public worship, and have some
customary way of private prayer, but do not
further regard how they walk, what is their
carriage all the day long, what they speak,
how they are in company, and how alone,
which way their hearts go early and late,
what it is that steals away most of their af-
fection from God.
Oh, my beloved, did we know our continu-
al danger, it would shake us out of this mis-
erable dead security that possesses us. We
think not on it, but there are snares laid for
us all the way, in every path we walkin, and
every step of it; in our meat and drink; in
our calling and labor; in our house at home;
in Our journeying abroad; yea, even in God’s
house, and in our spiritual exercises, both
there and in private. Knew we, or at least
considered we this, we should choose our
steps more exactly, and look to our ways, to
our words, to our thoughts, which truly, what-
soever noise we make, we really do not. Pon-
der the path of thy feet, says Solomon; and
before that, Let thine eyes look right on, and
Zet thine eyelids look straight before thee.
And further, Put away a froward mouth, and
perverse lips put far from thee. But, first of
all, as the main reason and spring of all, Keep
thy heart with all diligence, or above all keep-
ing, for out of it are the issues of life. Prov-
erbs iv. 23–26.
Because your adversary the devil..] An
alarm to watchfulness is here given, from the
watchfulness of our grand adversary. There
be other two usually ranked with him, as the
leading enemies of our souls, the world and
our own flesh; but here he is expressly named
who commands in chief, and orders and man-
ages the war, using the service of the other
two against us, as prime officers, under which
most of the forces of particular temptations
are ranked. Some others there be which he
immediately commands and leads on himself, a
regiment of his own, some spiritual tempta-
t1OnS.
And we have need to be put in mind of the
hostility and practices of Satan against us;
for if the most were put to it, they would be
forced to confess that they very seldom think
on their spiritual danger from this hand. As
we keep loose guard against the allurements
of the world, and of our own corruption, so we
watch not against the devices of Satan, but
44
346
[CHAP. W.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
go on by guess, and suspect nothing, and so knows of the richest booty. The pirates that
are easily a prey to all.
The least enemy being despised and neg-
lected, as men observe, proves often too great.
The smallest appearances of evil, the least
things that may prejudice our spiritual good,
while we make no reckoning of them, may do
us great mischief. Our not considering them
makes them become considerable, especially
being under the command of a vigilant and
skilful leader, who knows how to improve
advantages. Therefore, in things which we
many times account petty, and not worthy
our motice, as having any evil in them, we
should learn to suspect the address of this ad-
versary, who usually hides himself, and couch-
es under some covert, till he may appear irre-
sistible, and seize on us; and them, indeed, he
7"OCZ7°S, {}
And this seeking the destruction of souls is,
you see, marked as all his work. The prey
he hunts is souls, that they may be as miser-
able as himself. Therefore he is justly called
our adversary, the enemy of holiness and of
our souls; first tempting to sin, and then ac-
cusing for sin, as his name here imports ; ap-
pearing against us upon the advantages he
hath gained. He studies our nature, and fits
his temptation to it; knows the prevalency
of lust, or earthliness, or that great and most
general evil of pride, so like himself, and that
is his throne in the heart. Sometimes he bow-
eth down, as it is said of the lion, Psalm x. 9;
he waits his opportunity craftily, and then
assaults fiercely. And the children of God
find sometimes so much violence in his tempt-
ations, that they surprise them; such horrid
thoughts cast in as poisoned arrows, or fiery
darts, as the apostle speaks, Eph. vi. 16.
And this his enmity, though it is against man
in general, yet is most enraged against the
children of God. He goes about and spies
where they are weakest, and among them,
directs his attacks most against those who
are most advanced in holiness, and nearest
unto God. They were once under his power,
and now being escaped from him, he pursues
them, as Pharaoh did the Israelites, with all
his forces, raging and roaring after them, as
a prey that was once in his den, and under
his paw, and now is rescued.
The resemblance hath in it, his strength,
his diligence, and his cruelty. His strength,
a lion ; his diligence, going about and seek-
ing ; his cruelty, roaring, and seeking to de-
1507/7".
Inf. Is it not most reasonable hence to
press watchfulness; to keep continual watch,
to see what comes in, and what goes out ; to
try what is under every offer of the world,
every motion of our own natural hearts, wheth-
er there be not some treachery, some secret
intelligence or not? Especially after a time
of some special seasons of grace, and some
special new supplies of grace, received in
such seasons (as after the holy Sacrament),
then will he set on most eagerly, when he
let the ships pass as they go by empty, watch
them well when they return richly laden: so
doth this great pirate. Did he not assault our
Savior straight after his baptism 2 & Repšov.
Matt. iv. 3.
And, that we may watch, it concerns us to
be sober. The instruction is military: a drunk-
en soldier is not fit to be on the watch. This,
most of us are, with our several fancies and
vanities, and so exposed to this adversary.
And when we have gained some advantage in
a conflict, or when the enemy seems to retire
and be gone, yet, even then, are we to be
watchful, yea, then especially. How many,
presuming on false safeties that way, and
sitting down to carouse, or lying down to
sleep, have been re-assaulted and cut off In-
vadunt urbem somno vinoque sepultam. Oh,
beware when you think yourselves most safe!
That very thought makes you least safe.
Keep always your spirits free from surchar-
ges, and lavish profusion upon the world;
keep from applying your hearts to anything
in it, sitting down to it. Oh no. Be like
Gideon's army, fit to follow God, and to be
victorious in him, not lying down to drink,
but taking of it only as for necessity, in pas-
sing. Take our Savior's own word, Take
heed lest at any time your hearts be sur-
charged with surfeitings and drunkenness, and
the cares of this life. Luke xxi. 34. These
will overcharge you and make you drunk, and
cast you asleep.
Oh, mind your work, and your warfare
always, more than your ease and pleasure
Seek it not here; your rest is not here. Oh,
poor short rest, if it were ! But follow the
Lord Jesus through conflicts and sufferings.
A little while, and you shall have certain vic-
tory, and after it everlasting triumph, rest,
and pleasure, and a feast that shall not end,
where there is no danger either of surfeiting
or of wearying, but pure and perpetual delight.
In this persuasion, you should be abstinent
and watchful, and endure hardship, as good
soldiers of Jesus Christ, as the apostle speaks,
2 Tim. xi. 4, not entangling yourselves, with
the affairs of this life, and thus be ready for
encounters. Stand watching, and, if you be
assaulted, resist.
Whom resist, steadfast in the faith..] To
watchfulness, courage should be joined. He
that watches and yields, seems rather to watch
to receive, than to resist the enemy.
And this resistance should be continued
even against multiplied assaults: for thou
hast to deal with an enemy that will not easi-
ly give over, but will try several ways, and
will redouble his onsets;* sometimes very
thick, to weary thee out, sometimes after a
little forbearance interposed, to catch thee
unawares, when he is not expected. But in
all, faint not, but be steadfast in thy resist-
all C6.
Oö 3:30aw dwāravow, otóē vuków, odóē vukwuevos.-
PLUTARCH. in vita Marcel.
WER. 8, 9.]
347
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
“This is easily said,” say you, “but how
may it be 2 How shall I be able so to do?”
Thus:—
Steadfast in the faith..] The most of men
are under the power of one of these two evils,
security or distrust; and out of the one, we
readily fall into the other. Therefore the
apostle frames his exhortations, and the argu-
ments in support of it, in opposition to both
these ; first, against security in the former
verse, Be sober and watch, and presses that
by the proper argument of great and continu-
ing danger; here against distrust, Whom re-
sist, steadfast in the faith, and he adds an en-
couraging consideration of the common con-
dition of the children of God in the world.
Knowing that the same afflictions are accom-
plished in your brethren.
Steadfast, or solid, by faith..] This is abso-
lutely necessary for resistance. A man can
not fight upon a quagmire; there is no stand-
ing out without a standing, some firm ground
to tread upon ; and this faith alone furnishes.
It lifts the soul up to the firm advanced
ground of the promises, and fastens it there;
and there it is sure, even as Mount Zion,
that can not be removed. He says not, stead-
fast by your own resolutions and purposes,
but steadfast by faith. The power of God,
by faith becomes ours; for that is contained
and engaged in the word of promise. Faith
lays hold there, and there finds Almighty
strength. And this is our victory, says the
apostle St. John, whereby we overcome the
world even our faith. 1 John v. 4. So faith
is our victory, whereby we overcome the
prince of this world. Whom resist, steadfast
in the faith. And, universally, all difficul-
ties, and all enemies, are overcome by faith.
Faith sets the stronger Lion of the tribe of
Judah, against this roaring lion of the bot-
tomless pit; that delivering Lion, against
this devouring lion.
When the soul is surrounded with enemies
on all hands, so that there is no way of es-
cape, faith flies above them, and carries up
the soul to take refuge in Christ, and is there
safe. That is the power of faith; it sets a
soul in Christ, and there it looks down upon
all temptations as at the bottom of the rock,
breaking themselves into foam. When the
floods of temptation rise and gather, so great
and so many, that the soul is even ready to be
Swallowed up, then, by faith, it says, Lord
Jesus, thou art my strength, I look to thee
for deliverance; now appear for my help !
And thus it overcomes. The guilt of sin is
answered by his blood, the power of sin is
conquered by his Spirit; and afflictions that
arise are nothing to these: his love and gra-
cious presence make them sweet and easy.
We mistake, if we think to do anything,
or to be anything without him ; and we mis-
take again, if we think anything too hard to
be done or suffered with him. Without me
3/ou can do nothing, says he, John xv. 5; and
I am able do all things, says the apostle, or
can all things, távra toxia (so the word is),
through Christ that strengthens me. Phil. iv.
13. All things Oh, that is a big word, yet
it is a true word ; and thus made good—
through Christ empowering me; that frees
it both from falsehood and vanity. An hum-
ble confidence, for it is not in himself, but in
Christ; and this boasting is good. My soul
shall make her boast in God, says David,
Psalm xxxiv. 2. Oh, they alone have war-
rant to boast and to triumph, even before the
victory, who do it in this style | Such may
give a challenge to all the world, to all ad-
verse powers of earth and hell, as the apostle
doth in his own and every believer's name,
Rom. viii. 35, 38 : Who shall separate us
from the love of Christ 2 &c. See the vic-
tory recorded in this same way, Apoc. xii.
11 : And they overcame him—but how 2–by
the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of
their testimony. That blood, and the word of
their testimony, believing that word con-
cerning that blood, these are the strength and
victory of a Christian.
Inf. Although, then, thou seest thyself the
most withess and weak, and findest thyself
nothing but a prey to the powers of darkness,
yet know that, by believing, the wisdom and
strength of Christ are thine. Thou art, and
oughtest to find thyself, all weakness; but
he is all strength, Almightiness itself. Learn
to apply his victory, and so it is thine. Be
strong—how 2—in him, and the power of his
might. But thou wilt say, I am often foiled,
yea, I can not find that I prevail at all against
mine enemies, but they still against me. Yet
rely on him: he can turn the chase in an in-
stant. Still cleave to him. When the whole
powers of thy soul are, as it were, scattered
and routed, rally them by believing. Draw
thou but unto the standard of Jesus Christ,
and the day shall be thine; for victory fol-
lows that standard, and can not be severed
from it. Yea, though thou find the smart of
divers strokes, yet, think that often a wound-
ed soldier hath won the day. Believe, and it
shall be so with thee.
And remember that thy defeats, through
the wisdom and love of thy God, may be or-
dered to advance the victory ; to put courage
and holy anger into thee against thine ene-
mies; to humble thee, and drive thee from
from thine own imagined strength, to make
use of his real strength. And be not hasty;
think not at the very first to conquer. Many
a hard conflict must thou resolve upon, and
often shalt thou be brought very low, almost
to a desperate point, to thy sense, past recov-
ery; then it is his time to step in, even in the
midst of their prevailing. Let God but arise,
and his enemies shall be scattered. Psalm
lxviii. 1. Thus the church hath found it in
her greatest extremities, and thus likewise
the believing soul.
Knowing that the same afflictions are ac-
complished in your brethren that are in the
world..] There is one thing that much trou-
348
[CHAP. W.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
bles the patience and weakens the faith, of
some Christians ; they are ready to think
there is no one, yea that that there never was
any one beloved of God, in such a condition
as theirs. Thus sometimes they swell even
their outward trials in imagination, but often-
er their inward ones, which are most heavy
and pressing to themselves, and the parallel
of them in others least discernible by them.
Therefore the apostle St. Paul breaks this
conceit, 1 Cor. X. 13. No temptation hath ta-
ken you, but such as is common to men. And
here is the same truth, The same afflictions
are accomplished in your brethren.
But we had rather hear of ease, and can
not, after all that is said, bring our hearts to
comply with this, that temptations and trou-
bles are the saints' portion here, and that this
is the royal way to the kingdom. Our King
led it, and all his followers go the same way;
and besides the happy end of it, is it not
Sweet, even for this, simply, because he went
in it ! Yet, this is the truth, and, taken al-
together, is a most conformable truth: the
whole brotherhood, all our brethren, go in it,
and our Eldest Brother went first.
VER. 10. But the God of all grace who hath called us
unto his eternal joy by Christ Jesus, after that ye
have suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish,
strengthen, settle you.
His divine doctrine and exhortations, the
apostle closes with prayer, as we follow his
rule in public after the word preached. So
St. Paul frequently did, and so Christ him-
self, John xvii., after that sermon in the pre-
ceding chapters. It were well if both minis-
ters and people would follow the same way
more in private, each for themselves, and
each for the other. The want of this is
mainly the thing that makes our preaching
and hearing so barren and fruitless. The
ministers of the gospel should indeed be as
the angels of God, going between him and
his people ; not only bringing down useful
instructions from God to them, but putting
up earnest supplications to God for them. In
the tenth chapter of St. Luke, the disciples
are sent forth and appointed to preach ; and
in the eleventh, we have them desiring to be
taught to pray ; Lord teach us to pray. And
without this, there can be little answer or
success in the other ; little springing up of
this seed, though ministers sow it plentifully
in preaching, unless they secretly water it
with their prayers and their tears.
And people, truly, should keep some corre-
spondence in this duty, and that, if other ob-
ligation will not persuade, even for their own
advantage ; for it returns unto them with
abundant interest. If much of the Spirit be
poured forth on ministers, are they not the
more able able to unfold the spiritual myste-
ries of the gospel, and to build up their peo-
ple in the knowledge of them 2 Oh, that
both of us were more abundant in this rich
and sweet exercise !
But the God o, all grace, who hath called
us to eternal glory by Christ Jesus.] This
prayer suits the apostle St. Paul’s word, in
his direction to the Philippians (chap. iv. 6);
it is supplication with thanksgiving, prayer
with praise. In the prayer or petition, con-
sider, 1st, the matter, and 2dly, the style.
The matter, or thing requested, is ex-
pressed in divers brief words, Make you per-
fect, stublish, strengthen, settle you ; which,
though they be much of the same sense,
yet are not superfluously multiplied, for they
carry both the great importance of the thing,
and the earnest desire in asking it. And
though it be a little light and unsolid, to
frame a different sense to each of them (nor
are any of the ways that such interpreters
have taken in it, very satisfactory to any dis-
cerning judgment); yet I conceive they are
not altogether without some profitable differ-
ence. The first [perfect], implies, more
clearly than the rest, their advancement in
victory over their remaining corruptions and
infirmities, and their progress toward perfec-
tion. Stablish, hath more express reference
to both the inward lightness and inconstancy
that are natural to us, and the counterblasts
of persecutions and temptations, outward op-
positions; and it imports the curing of the
one, and support against the other. Strength-
en, has respect to the growth of their graces,
especially the gaining of further measures of
those graces wherein they are weakest and
lowest. And settle, though it seems the
same, and in substance is the same with the
other word, stablish, yet it adds somewhat to
it very worthy of consideration; for it signi-
fies, to found or fix upon a sure foundation,
and so, indeed, may have an aspect to him
who is the foundation and strength of believ-
ers, on whom they build by faith, even Jesus
Christ, in whom we have all, both victory
over sin, and increase of grace, and establish-
ment of spirit, and power to persevere against
all difficulties and assaults. He is that cor-
ner foundation-stone laid in Zion, that they
that build upon him may not be ashamed, Isa.
xxviii. 16; that Rock that upholds the house
founded on it, in the midst of all winds and
storms. Matt. vii. ult.
Observe: 1st, These expressions have in
them that which is primarily to be sought
after by every Christian, perseverance and
progress in grace. These two are here in-
terwoven ; for there be two words importing
the one, and two the other, and they are in-
terchangeably placed. This is often urged
on Christians as their duty, and accordingly
ought they to apply themselves to it, and use
their highest diligence in it; not to take the
beginning of Christianity for the end of it, to
think it enough, if they are entered into the
way of it, and to sit down upon the entry;
but to walk on, to go from strength to
strength, and even through the greatest diffi-
culties and discouragements, to pass forward
with unmoved stability and fixedness of mind.
They ought to be aiming at perfection. It is
VER. 10.]
349
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
true, we shall still fall exceedingly short of
it; but the more we study it, the nearer shall
we come to it; the higher we aim, the high-
er shall we shoot, though we shoot not so
high as we aim.
It is an excellent life, and it is the proper
life of a Christian, to be daily outstripping
himself, to be spiritually wiser, holier, more
heavenly-minded to-day than yesterday, and
to-morrow (if it be added to his life) than to-
day; Suavissima vita est indies sentire se fieri
meliorem : every day loving the world less,
and Christ more, than on the former, and
ſº every day some further victory over
is secret corruptions; having his passions
more subdued and mortified, his desires in all
temporal things more cool and indifferent,
and in spiritual things, more ardent; that
miserable lightness of spirit cured, and his
heart rendered more solid and fixed upon God,
aspiring to more near communion with him,
and laboring that particular graces may be
made more lively and strong, by often exer-
cising and stirring them up ; faith more con-
firmed and stayed, love more inflamed, com-
posed meekness producing more deep humil-
ity. Oh, this were a worthy ambition in-
deed . You would have your estates grow-
ing, and your credit growing ; how much
rather should you seek to have your graces
growing, and not be content with anything
you have attained to
Obs. 2d. But all our endeavors and dili-
gence in this will be vain, unless we look for
our perfecting and establishing from that
right hand, without which we can do noth-
ing. Thither the apostle moves his desires
for his brethren, and so teaches them the
same address for themselves: The God of
all grace make you perfect.
This prayer is grounded (as all prayer of
faith must be) on the promise and covenant
of God. He is our rock, and his work is per-
§ Deut. xxxii. 4. He doth not begin a
uilding, and then leave it off: none of his
designs break in the middle, or fall short of
their end. He will perfect that good work
which he hath begun, to the day of Jesus
Christ. Phil. i. 6. And how often is he called
the strength of those that trust in him, their
buckler, and his way perfect. Psalm xviii. 30.
Hence is the stability of grace, the perse-
verance of the saints; it is founded upon his
unchangeableness. Not that they are un-
changeable, though truly sanctified, if they
and their graces were left to their own man-
agement: no, it is he who not only gives that
rich portion to those he adopts to be his chil-
dren, but keeps it for them, and them in the
possession of it. He maintains the lot of our
inheritance. Psalm xvi. 5. And to build that
persuasion of perseverance upon his truth and
power engaged in it, is no presumption; yea,
it is high dishonor to him to question it.
But when nature is set to judge of grace, it
must speak according to itself, and therefore
very unsuitably to that which it speaks of
Natural wits apprehend not the spiritual ten-
or of the covenant of grace, but model it to
their own principles, and disguise it: they
think of nothing but their resolves and moral
purposes; or if they take up with some con-
fused motion of grace, they imagine it put into
their own hands, to keep or to lose it, and will
not stoop to a continual dependance on the
strength of Another, rather choosing that
game of hazard, though it is certain loss and
undoing, to do for themselves.
But the humble believer is otherwise
taught; he hath not so learned Christ. He
sees himself beset with enemies without,
and buckled to a treacherous heart within,
that will betray him to them ; and he dares
no more trust himself to himself, than to his
most professed enemies. Thus it ought to be,
and the more the heart is brought to this
humble petitioning for that ability, and
strengthening, and perfecting, from God, the
more shall it find both stability, and peace
from the assurance of that stability.
And certainly, the more the Christian is ac-
quainted with himself, the more will he go
out of himself for his perfecting and estab-
lishing. He finds that when he thinks to go
forward, he is driven backward, and that sin
gets hold of him, oftentimes when he thought
to have smitten it. He finds that such is the
miserable inconstancy of his heart in spirit-
ual things, the vanishing of his purposes and
breaking off of his thoughts, that they usu-
ally die ere they be brought forth : so that
when he hath thought, I will pray more rev-
erently, and set myself to behold God when
I speak to him, and watch more over my
heart that it fly not out and leave me—pos-
sibly the first time he sets to it, thinking to
be master of his intention, he finds himself
more scattered, and disordered, and dead,
than at any time before. When he hath con-
ceived thoughts of humility and self-abase-
ment, and thinks, “Now I am down, and laid
low within myself, to rise and look big no
more”—some vain fancy creeps in anon, and
encourages him, and raises him up to his old
estate; so that in this plight, had he not
higher strength to look at, he would sit down
and give over all, as utterly hopeless of ever
attaining to his journey's end.
But when he considers whose work that is
within him, even these small beginnings of
desires, he is encouraged by the greatness of
the work, not to despise and despair of the
small appearance of it in its beginning, not
to despise the day of small things, Zech. iv.
10; and knowing that it is not by any power,
nor by might, but by his Spirit, that it shall
be accomplished, he lays hold on that word,
Though thy beginning be small, yet thy latter
end shall greatly increase. Job. viii. 7.
The believer looks to Jesus, [d?opovres), Heb.
xii. 2—looks off from all oppositions and dif-
ficulties, looks above them to Jesus, the au-
thor and finisher of our faith 3 author, and
therefore finisher. Thus, that royal dignity
350
[CHAP. W.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
is interested in the maintenance and comple-
tion of what he hath wrought. Notwith-
standing all thy imperfections, and the
strength of sin, he can and will subdue it.
Notwithstanding thy condition is so light and
loose, that it were easy for any wind of temp-
tation to blow thee away, yet he shall hold
thee in his right hand, and there thou shalt
be firm as the earth, that is so settled by his
hand, that though it hangs by nothing, yet
nothing can remove it. Though thou art
weak, he is strong; and it is he that strength-
ens thee, and renews thy strength, Isa. xl. 28:
when it seems to be gone and quite spent,
he makes it fresh, and greater than ever be-
fore. The word here rendered renew, signi-
fies change : they shall have, for their own,
his strength. A weak believer, and his strong
Savior, will be too hard for all that can rise
against them. It is here fit, as in statutes,
hominem cum basi metiri, to measure the man
with the basis on which he stands; and there
is no taking the right measure of a Christian
but in that way.
Thou art now, indeed, exposed to great
storms and tempests, but he builds thee on
himself, makes thee, by believing, to found
on him ; and so, though the winds blow and
the rain fall, yet thou standest, being built
on him, thy rock. And this, indeed, is our
safety, the more we cleave to our Rock and
fasten on him. This is the only thing that
establishes us, and perfects, and strengthens
us; therefore, well is that word added, 0tus-
Atógat, found you, or settle you, on your foun-
dation. This is the firmness of the church
against the gates of hell; he is a strong found-
ation for its establishment, and a living found-
ation, having influence into the building, for
perfecting it; for it is a living house, and the
foundation is a root sending life into the
stones, so that they grow up, as this apostle
speaks, ch. ii. 4.
It is the inactivity of faith on Jesus, that
keeps us so imperfect, and wrestling still
with our corruptions, without any advance-
ment. We wrestle in our own strength too
often, and so are justly, yea, necessarily, foil-
ed; it can not be otherwise till we make him
our strength. This we are still forgetting,
and had need to be put in mind of, and ought
frequently to remind ourselves. We would
be at doing for ourselves, and insensibly fall
into this folly, even after much smarting for
it, if we be not watchful against it. There
is this wretched natural independency in us,
that is so hard to beat out. All our project-
ings are but castles in the air, imaginary
buildings without a foundation, till once laid
on Christ. But never shall we find heart-
peace, sweet peace, and progress in holiness,
till we be driven from it, to make him all our
strength; till we be brought to do nothing,
to attempt nothing, to hope or expect noth-
ing, but in him; and then shall we indeed find
his fulness and all-sufficiency,and be more than
conquerors through him who hath loved us.
|
But the God of all grace.] . By reason of
our many wants and great weakness, we had
need to have a very full hand and a very
strong hand to go to for our supplies and for
support. And such we have indeed : our fa-
ther is the God of all grace, a spring that
can not be drawn dry, no, nor so much as any
whit diminished.
The God of all grace: the God of imputed
grace, of infused and increased grace, of fur-
nished and assisting grace. The work of sal-
vation is all grace from beginning to end.
Free grace in the plot of it, laid in the coun-
sel of God, and performed by his own hand
all of it; his Son sent in the flesh, and his
Spirit sent into the hearts of his chosen, to
apply Christ. All grace is in him, the liv-
ing spring of it, and flows from him ; all the
various actings, and all the several degrees of
grace. He is the God of pardoning grace,
who blotteth out the transgressions of his
own children, for his own name's sake (Isa.
xliii. 25), who takes up all quarrels, and
makes one act of oblivion serve for all reck-
onings between him and them. And, as he is
the God of pardoning grace, so withal, the
God of sanctifying grace, who refines and pu-
rifies all those he means to make up into ves.
sels of glory, and hath in his hand all the fit
means and ways of doing this; purifies them
by afflictions and outward trials, by the re-
proaches and hatreds of the world. The pro-
fane world know little how serviceable they
are to the graces and comforts of a Christian,
when they dishonor and persecute him ; yea,
little doth a Christian himself sometimes
think how great his advantage is by those
things, till he finds it, and wonders at his fa-
ther’s wisdom and love. But most powerful-
ly are the children of God sanctified by the
Spirit within them, without which, indeed,
no other thing could be of any advantage to
them in this. That divine fire kindled with-
in them, is daily refining and sublimating
them, that Spirit of Christ conquering sin,
and by the mighty flame of his love, consum-
ing the earth and dross that is in them ; ma-
king their affections more spiritual and disen-
gaged from all creature-delights. And thus,
as they receive the beginnings of grace free-
ly, so all the advances and increases of it;
life from their Lord still flowing and causing
them to grow, abating the power of sin,
strengthening a fainting faith, quickening a
languishing love, teaching the soul the ways
of wounding strong corruptions, and fortify-
ing its weak graces; yea, in wonderful ways
advancing the good of his children by things
not only harsh to them, as afflictions and temp-
tations, but by what is directly opposite in its
nature, sin itself; raising them by their falls,
and strengthening them by their very trou-
bles; working them to humility and vigilance,
and sending them to Christ for strength, by the
experience of their weaknesses and failings.
And as he is the God of pardoning grace
and of sanctifying grace in the beginning and
WER. 10.]
351
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
growth of it, so also the God of supporting
grace, of that supervenient influence without
which the graces placed within us would lie
dead, and fail us in the time of greatest need.
This is the immediate assisting power that
bears up the soul under the hardest service,
and backs it in the sharpest conflicts, com-
municating fresh auxiliary strength, when
we, with all the grace we have dwelling
within us, are surcharged.
Then he steps in, and opposes his strength
to a prevailing and confident enemy, that is
at the point of insulting and triumph. When
temptations have made a breach, and enter
with full force and violence, he lets in so
much present help on a sudden, as makes
them give back, and beats them out. When
the enemy comes in as a flood, the Spirit of the
Lord lifts up a standard against him. Isa.
lix. 11. And no siege can be so close as to
keep out this aid, for it comes from above.
And by this, a Christian learns that his
strength is in God ; whereas, if his received
grace were always party enough, and able
to make itself good against all incursions,
though we know we have received it, yet be-
ing within us, we should possibly sometimes
forget the receipt of it, and look on it more as
ours than as his ; more as being within us,
than as flowing from him. But when all the
forces we have, the standing garrison, are by
far overmatched, and yet we find the assail-
ants beaten back, then we must acknowledge
him who sends such seasonable relief, to be,
as the psalmist speaks, a very present help in
trouble. Psalm xlvi. 1.
All St. Paul’s constant strength of grace in-
herent in him, could not fence him so well, as
to ward off the piercing point of that sharp
temptation, whatsoever it was, which he re-
cords, 2 Cor. xii. 7. The redoubled buffet-
ings that he felt, came so thick upon him,
that he was driven to his knees by it to cry
for help to be sent down, without which he
found he could not hold out; and he had an
answer assuring him of help, a secret support
that should maintain them: “My grace is suf.
ficient for thee: ”g. d., “Though thine own be
not, that is, the grace which I have already
given thee, yet mine is, that is, the grace
which is in me, and which I will put forth
for thy assistance.”
And this is our great advantage and com-
fort, that we have a Protector who is almigh-
ty, and who is always at hand, who can and
will hear us whensoever we are beset and
straitened. That captain had reason, who,
on being required to keep Milan for the king
of France, went up to the highest turret, and
cried out three times, “King of France,” and
then refused the service, because the king
heard him not, and nobody answered for
him ; meaning to imply the great distance,
and so the difficulty of sending aid, when
need should require. But we may be confi-
dent of our supplies in the most sudden sur-
prisals. Our King can, and will hear us
when we call, and will send relief in due sea-
son. We may be in apparent hazards, but
we shall not be wholly vanquished: it is but
crying to him in our greatest straits, and
help appears. Possibly we see the hosts of
enemies first, and that so great that there is
no likelihood of escaping, but then, praying,
we espy the fiery chariots and horsemen, and
may say, There are more with us than with
them. 2 Kings vi. 16.
The apostle St. Paul calls our God, the
God of all consolation, Rom. xv. 5, as here
he is styled the God of all grace. And this
is our rejoicing, that in his hand is all good,
our sanctification and consolation, assistance
and assurance, grace and glory. And this
style suits most fitly with the present petition,
that for our perfecting, and stablishing, and
strengthening in grace, we have recourse to
the God of all grace, whose former gifts do
not discourage us from seeking more, but in-
deed both encourage us, and engage him for
the perfecting of it. It is his will, that we
have constant recourse to him for all we
want. He is so rich, and withal so liberal,
that he delights in our seeking and drawing
much from him ; and it is by believing and
praying, that we do draw from him. Were
these plied, we should soon grow richer.
But remember, all this grace that we would
receive ſrom the God of all grace, must be
from God in Christ. There it flows for us,
and thither we are directed. It was the Fa-
ther's good pleasure, that in him should all
fulness dwell, Col. i. 19, and that for us, that
we might know whither to go, and where to
apply for it.
Now, for the further opening up of his
riches, expressed in this title, the God of all
grace, there is added one great act of grace,
which doth indeed include all the rest, for we
have in it the beginning and the end of the
work linked together; the first effect of grace
upon us, in effectual calling, and the last ac-
complishment of it, in eternal glory. Who
hath called us to his eternal glory.
This calling, I conceive, doth not simply
mean the design of the gospel in its general
publication, wherein the outward call lies,
that it holds forth, and sets before us, eternal
glory as the result of grace ; but refers to the
real bringing of a Christian to Christ, and uni-
ting him with Christ, and so giving him a real
and firm title to glory, such a call, as power-
fully works grace in the soul, and secures glory
to the soul ; gives it a right to that inheri-
tance, and fits it for it ; and sometimes gives it
even the evident and sweet assurance of it.
This assurance, indeed, all the heirs of glory
have not ordinarily within them, and scarce-
ly any have at all times equally clear. Some
travel on in a covert, cloudy day, and get
home by it, having so much light as to know
their way, and yet do not at all clearly see the
bright and full sunshine of assurance ; others
have it breaking forth at times, and anon un-
der a cloud; and some have it more constant-
352
[CHAP. W.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
ly. . But as all meet in the end, so all agree
in this in the beginning, that is, in the reality
of the thing ; they are made unalterably sure
heirs of it, in their effectual calling.
And by this the apostle advances his peti-
tion for their support, and establishment, and
advancement in the way of grace. The way
of our calling to so high and happy an estate,
did we apply our thoughts more to it, would
work on us, and persuade us to a more suita-
ble temper of mind, and course of life; would
give us more noble and sublime thoughts, and
ways above the world ; and the stronger were
our persuasion of it, the more strongly should
we be thus persuaded by it. And as it would
thus prevail with us, so might we use it to
prevail with God for all needful grace.
All you who hear the gospel, are, in the gen-
eral, called to this glory. It is told you where
and how you may lay hold on it. You are
told, that if you will let go your sins and em-
brace Jesus Christ, this glory shall be yours.
It is his purchase, and the right of it lies in
him, and not elsewhere; and the way to ob-
tain a right to him is to receive him for a Sa-
vior, and at the same time for Lord and
King ; to become his subjects, and so to be
made kings. This is our message to you, but
you will not receive it. You give it a hear-
ing, it may be, but do not indeed hearken to
the motion ; and this, of necessity, must pro-
ceed from unbelief. Were you indeed per-
suaded, that in coming unto Christ you were
immediately not only set free from a sentence
of death, which is still standing over your
head while you are out of him, but withal en-
titled to a crown, made heirs of a kingdom,
an eternal kingdom, I say, if this were be-
lieved, were it possible to slight him as the
most do, and turn back the bargain, and be-
stow their money elsewhere upon trifles of no
value, children's commodities, rattles, and
painted toys 2 Such are your greatest proj-
ects, even for earthly kingdoms, in respect of
Christ, and this glory provided in him. How
wonderful is it that where this happiness is
daily proclaimed, and you are not only inform-
ed of it, but entreated to receive it, not only is
it offered to you, but pressed and urged upon
you, and you say you believe the matter; yet
still, the false glory and other vanities of this
World amuse and entangle you, so that you
close not with this rich offer of eternal glory.
But where any do close with it, it is in-
deed by a call that goes deeper than the ear,
a word spoken home to within, a touch of the
Spirit of God upon the heart, which hath a
magnetic virtue to draw it, so that it can
not choose but follow, and yet chooses it
most freely and sweetly ; doth most gladly
open to let in Jesus Christ and his sweet gov.
ernment upon his own terms, takes him and
all the reproaches and troubles that come
with him. And well it Inay, seeing, beyond
a little passing trouble, abiding, eternal glory.
The state to which a Christian is called, is
not a poor and sad estate, as the world judg-
es; it is to no less than eternal glory. The
world think it strange to see the believer
abridge himself in the delights of sin, their
common pursuits and eager graspings after
gains, or honors, or pleasures of sense ; but
they know not the infinite gain that he hath
made, in that he hath exchanged this dross
for down-weight of pure gold. The world
see what the Christian leaves, but they see
not what he comes to, what his new pur-
chase is, in another place; they see what
he suffers, but not what he expects, and shall
attain as the end of those sufferings, which
shall shortly end. But he, knowing well up-
on what conditions all these things run, may
well say, Non magna relinquo magna sequor
—How small is what I forsake, how great
that which I follow after
It is glory, eternal glory, his eternal glory,
true, real glory. All here that is so named,
is no more than a name, a shadow of glory;
it can not endure the balance, but is found too
light, as was said of a great monarch, Dan.
v.; and even many principalities and provin-
ces, put into the scale one after another, still
add no weight: yea, possibly; as a late polit-
ical writer wittily observes of a certain mon-
arch, “the more kingdoms you cast in, the
scale is still the lighter.” Men are naturally
desirous after glory, and gape after it; but
they are naturally ignorant of the true nature
and place of it : they seek it where it is not,
and, as Solomon says of riches, set their
hearts on that which is not, Prov. xxiii. 5–
hath no subsistence or reality. But the glory
above, is true, real glory, and bears weight,
and so bears aright the name of glory, the
term for which in the Hebrew [Kebud) signi-
fies weight ; and the apostle's expression
seems to allude to that sense: speaking of
this same glory to come, he calls it a far more
eacellent weight of glory. , 2 Cor. iv. 17. It
weighs down all labor and sufferings in the
way, so far, as that they are not once worth
the speaking of in respect of it. It is the hy-
perbole ka9' insp3oxiv eſs reo60 xiv. Other glory
is over-spoken, but this glory is over-glorious
to be duly spoken : it exceeds and rises above
all that can be spoken of it.
Eternal.] Oh, that adds much Men
would have more reason so to affect and pur-
sue the glory of the present world, such as it
is, if it were lasting, if it, stayed with them
when they have caught it, and they stayed
with it to enjoy it. But how soon do they
part They pass away, and the glory passes
away, both as smoke. Our life itself is as a
vapor. And as for all the pomp and magnifi-
cence of those that have the greatest outward
glory, and make the fairest, show, it is but a
show, a pageant that goes through the street,
and is seen no more. But this hath length
of days with it—eternal glory. Oh, a thought
of that swallows up all the grandeur of the
world, and the noise of reckoning years and
ages. Had one man continued, from the cre-
ation to the end of the world, at the top of
WER. 11.]
353
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
earthly dignity and glory, admired by all, yet,
at the end, everlasting oblivion being the
close, what a nothing were it to eternal glo-
ry But, alas ! we can not be brought to
believe, and deeply to take the impression of
eternity ; and this is our undoing.
By Jesus Christ.] Your portion, while out
of him, was eternal shame and misery, but
by him, it is even all glory. And this hath
in it likewise an evidence of the greatness of
this glory ; it can be no small estate, which
the blood of the Son of God was let out to
purchase.
His glory.] It is that which he gives, and
gives as his choicest of all, to his chosen, his
children. And if there be anything here that
hath delight or worth, in the things which he
gives in common even to his enemies; if
there be such a world and such a variety of
good things for them that hate him, oh, how
excellent must those things be which he hath
reserved for his friends, for those he loves,
and causes to love him
As it is his gift, so it is indeed himself; the
beholding and enjoying of himself. This we
can not now conceive. But, oh, that blessed
day when the soul shall be full of God, shall
be satisfied and ravished with full vision
Should we not admire that such a condition
is provided for man, wretched, sinful man 2
Lord, what is man, that thou art mindful of
him, and the son of man, that thou visitest
him 2 Psalm viii. 3. And is it provided for
me, as wretched as any who are left and fal.
len short of this glory, a base worm taken out
of the mire, and washed in the blood of Christ,
and within a while set to shine in glory with-
out sin " Oh, the wonder of this How should
it excite us to praise, when we think of such
a one there, who will bring us up in the way
to this crown How will this hope sweeten
the short sufferings of this life And death
itself, which is otherwise the bitterest in it-
self, is most of all sweetened by this, as being
nearest it, and setting us into it. What
though thou art poor, diseased, and despised
here ? Oh, consider what is there, how wor-
thy the affection, worthy the earnest eye and
fixed look of an heir of this glory ! What can
he either desire or fear, whose heart is thus
deeply fixed ? Who would refuse this other
clause, to suffer a while, a little while, any-
thing outward or inward which he thinks fit?
How soon shall all this be overpast, and then
overpaid in the very entry, at the beginning
of this glory that shall never end
VER. 11. To him be glory and dominion for ever and
ever. Amen.
THEY know little of their own wants and
emptiness, who are not much in prayer; and
they know little of the greatness and good-
ness of God, who are not much in praises.
The humble Christian hath a heart in some
measure framed to both. He hath within
him the best schoolmaster, who teaches him
how to pray, and how to praise, and makes
him delight in the exercise of them both.
The apostle, having added prayer to his
doctrine, adds here, you see, praise to his
prayer. To him be glory and dominion for
ۼje?".
The living praises of God spring from much
holy affection, and that affection springs from
a Divine light in the understanding. So says
the psalmist: Sing ye praises with under-
standing, or, you that have understanding.
Psalm xlvii. 7. It is a spiritual knowledge
of God, that sets the soul in tune for his
praises, and therefore the most can bear no
part in this song: they mistune it quite,
through their ignorance of God, and unac-
quaintance with him. Praise is unseemly in
the mouth of fools: they spoil and mistune
lt.
Observe, 1. The thing ascribed. 2. The
term or endurance of it. The former is ex-
pressed in two words: glory, and power.
Glory, that is, the shining forth of his dig-
nity, the knowledge and acknowledgment of
it by his creatures; that his excellency may
be confessed and praised, his name exalted;
that service and homage may be done to him.
Which all add nothing to him, for how can
that be 2 But as it is the duty of such crea-
tures as he hath fitted for it, to render praise
to him, so it is their happiness. All created
things, indeed, declare and speak his glory:
the heavens sound it forth, and the earth and
sea resound and echo it back. But his rea-
sonable creatures hath he peculiarly framed,
both to take notice of his glory in all the rest,
and to return it from and for all the rest, in a
more express and lively way.
And in this lower world, it is man alone
that is made capable of observing the glory
of God, and of offering him praises. He ex-
presses it well, who calls man the world’s
high priest : all the creatures bring their ob-
lations of praise to him, to offer up for them
and for himself, and for whose use and com-
fort they are made. The light and motion of
the heavens, and all the variety of creatures
below them, speak this to man : He that made
us and you, and made us for you, is great,
and wise, and worthy to be praised. And
you are better able to say this than we ;
therefore praise him on our behalf and on
your own. Oh he is great and mighty, he
is the Lord our Maker.
Power here expresses not only ability, but
authority and royal sovereignty; that, as he
can do all things, he rules and governs all
things, is King of all the world, Lord para-
mount. All hold their crowns of him, and
the shields of the earth belong unto God ; he
is greatly to be ea'alted, Psafm givii. 3. He
disposeth of states and kingdoms at his pleas-
ure, establisheth or changeth, turns and over-
turns, as seems him good; and hath not only
might, but right to do so. He is the Most
High, ruling in the kingdoms of the children
of men, and giving them to whomsoever he
will, Daniel iv. 32, pouring contempt upon
princes when they contemn his power.
354
[CHAP. W.
A COMMENTARY UPON THE
The term of this glory is for ever. Even
in the short life of man, men who are raised
very high in place and popular esteem may,
and often do, outlive their own glory. But
the glory of God lasteth as long as himself,
for he is unchangeable: his throne is for ever,
and his wrath for ever, and his mercy for ever;
and therefore his glory for ever.
Reflection 1. Is it not to be lamented, that
he is so little glorified and praised ? that the
earth, being so full of his goodness, is so
empty of his praise from them who enjoy and
live upon it 2
How far are the greatest part from making
this their great work, to exalt God, and as-
cribe power and glory to his name ! So far,
that all their ways are his dishonor: they
seek to advance and raise themselves, to
serve their own lusts and pleasures, while
they are altogether mindless of his glory.
Yea, the apostle's complaint holds good
against us all ; we are seeking our own things,
and none the things of the Lord Jesus Christ.
Phil. ii. 21. It is true, some exceptions there
are ; but, as his meaning is, they are so few,
that they are, as it were, drowned and smoth-
ered in the crowd of self-seekers, so that they
appear not. After all the judgments of God
upon us, how do luxury and excess, unclean-
ness, and all kinds of profaneness, still out-
dare the very light of the gospel, and the rule
of holiness shining in it ! Scarcely anything
is a matter of common shame and scorn, but
the power of godliness ; turning indeed our
true glory into shame, and glorying in that
which is indeed our shame. Holiness is not
only our truest glory, but that wherein the
ever-glorious God doth especially glory. He
hath made known himself particularly by
that name, The holy God ; and the express
style of his glorious praises uttered by sera-
phims, is, Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of
hosts: the whole earth is full of his glory. Isa.
vi. 3.
Instead of sanctifying and glorifying this
holy name, how doth the language of hell,
oaths and curses, abound in our streets and
houses : How is that blessed name, which
angels are blessing and praising, abused by
base worms Again, notwithstanding all the
mercies multiplied upon us in this land,
where are our praises, our songs of deliver-
ance, our ascribing glory and power to our
God, who hath prevented us with loving
kindness and tender mercies; hath removed
the strokes of his hand, and made cities and
villages populous again, that were left deso-
late without inhabitants 2
Oh, why do we not stir up our hearts, and
one another, to extol the name of our God,
and say, Give unto the Lord glory and
strength ; give unto the Lord the glory due
unto his name 2. Have we not seen the pride
and glory of all flesh stained and abased ?
Were there ever affairs and times that more
discovered the folly and weakness of men,
and the wisdom and power of God 2 Oh, that
our hearts were set to magnify him, accord-
ing to that word so often repeated in Psalm
cyii. Oh ' that men would praise the Lord
for his goodness, for his wonderful works to
the children of men /
Reflection 2. But what wonder is it that
the Lord loses the revenue of his praises at
the hands of the common ungodly world,
when even his own people fall so far behind
it as usually they do? The dead can not
praise him ; but that they whom he hath
quickened by his Spirit, should yet be so sur-
prised with deadness and dulness as to this
exercise of exalting God, this is very strange.
For help of this, take the three following di-
rections:—
Direction 1. We should seek after a fit tem-
per, and labor to have our hearts brought to
a due disposition for his praises. And in this
view, [1..] See that they be spiritual. All
spiritual services require that, but this ser-
vice most, as being indeed the most spiritual
of all. Affection to the things of this earth,
draws down the soul, and makes it so low
set, that it can not rise to the height of a song
of praise; and thus, if we observed ourselves,
we should find that when we let our hearts
fall and entangle themselves in any inferior
desires and delights, as they are unfitted gen-
erally for holy things, so, especially for the
praises of our holy God. Creature-loves de-
base the soul, and turn it to earth, and praise
is altogether heavenly.
[2.] Seek a heart purified from self-love,
and possessed with the love of God. The
heart which is ruled by its own interest is
scarcely ever content, still subject to new dis-
quiet. Self is a vexing thing, for all things
do not readily suit our humors and wills, and
the least touch that is wrong to a selfish mind
distempers it, and disrelishes all the good
things about it. A childish condition it is, if
crossed but in a toy, to throw away all.
Whence are our frequent frettings and grum-
blings, and why is it that we can drown a
hundred high favors in one little displeasure,
so that still our finger is upon that string, and
there is more malcontent and repining for One
little cross, than praises for all the mercies
we have received 2 Is not this evidently from
the self-love that abounds in us? Whereas,
were the love of God predominant in us, we
should love his doings and disposals, and
bless his name in all. Whatsoever were his
will, would, in that view, be amiable and
sweet to us, however in itself harsh and un-
pleasant. Thus should we say in all : This
is the will and the hand of my Father, who
doth all things wisely and well: blessed be
his name !
The soul thus framed, would praise in the
deeps of troubles: not only in outward afflic-
tions, but in the saddest inward condition, it
would be still extolling God, and saying,
However he deal with me, he is worthy to be
loved and praised. He is great and holy, he
is good and gracious; and whatsoever be his
WER. 12–14.]
355
FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
way and thoughts toward me, I wish him
glory. If he will be pleased to give me light
and refreshment, blessed be he ; and if he will
have me to be in darkness again, blessed be
he, glory to his name ! Yea, what though he
should utterly reject me, is he not for that to
be accounted infinitely merciful in the saving
of others ? Must he cease to be praiseworthy
for my sake? If he condemn, yet he is to be
praised, being merciful to so many others;
yea, even in so dealing with me, he is to be
praised, for in that he is just.
Thus would pure love reason for him, and
render praise to him. But our ordinary way
is most untoward and unbeseeming his crea-
tures, even the best of them, much more such
worms as we are ; that things must rather be
to our mind than his, and we must either have
all our will, or else, for our part, he shall have
none of his praises.
[3.] Labor for that which on these two will
follow, a fiased heart. If it be refined from
creature-love, and self-love, spirituality and
love of God will fix it ; and then shall it be
fit to praise, which an unstable, uncomposed
heart can never be, any more than an instru-
ment can be harmonious and fit to play on,
that hath loose pins, still slipping and letting
down the strings, pins that never fasten. And
thus are the most: they can not fix to divine
thoughts, to consider God, to behold and ad-
mire his excellency and goodness, and his
free love. Oh, that happy word of David,
worthy to be twice repeated . When shall
we say it ! ... O God, my heart is fired : well
might he add, I will sing and give praise.
Psalm lvii. 7. Oh, that we would pray much
that he would fix our hearts, and then, he hav-
ing fixed them, we should praise him much.
Direct. II. If any due disposition be once
attained for praises, then must the heart, so
disposed, be set to study the matter of praises.
And 1. Study the infinite excellency of
God in himself; of which, though we know
little, yet this we know, and should consider
it, that it is far beyond what all the creatures
and all his works are able to testify of him ;
that he transcends all we can speak, or hear,
or know of him. 2. Look on him in his
works. Can we behold the vast heavens
above, or the firm earth beneath us, or all the
variety of his works in both, without holy
wonder excited in us, and that stirring us up
to sing praises 2 Oh, his greatness, and
might, and wisdom shining in these ! Lord,
how manifest are thy works 1 In wisdom hast
thou made them all. Psalm civ. 24. But above
all, that work, that marvel of his works, the
sending of his Son forth of his bosom. This
is the mystery which the apostles do so much
magnify in their writings, which is so much
magnified in this epistle, and which forms
the chief incentive to the ascription of praise
with which it closes. This praise looks par-
ticularly back to the style in the prayer, The
God of all grace, who hath called us to his
eternal glory by Jesus Christ. So many oth-
er mercies are not to be forgotten, but chiefly
is he to be praised for that choicest of mer-
cies. To his glory, who hath called us to his
glory. Then, look through the work of sa-
wing his chosen, so redeemed by the blood of
his Son. His maintaining his own work in
them against all surrounding enemies and
oppositions, the advancing of it in the midst
of them, and even by means of those oppo-
sitions, and bringing them safe to glory ;
that perfecting and establishment, as in the
foregoing words. It is this which so affects
the apostle in the very entry of this epistle,
that there he must break forth into praise:
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord
Jesus Christ, who, according to his abundant
mercy, hath begotten us again unto a lively
hope, by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from
the dead, chap. i. 3. He begins there in
praise, and here he ends in it, and so enclo-
ses all within that divine circle. And as we
should consider these things in general, so
should we also reflect on his particular deal.
ing with us, his good providence both in
spirituals and temporals. Would we search,
oh, what a surcharge of innumerable mer-
cies should each of us find ' And were we
better acquainted with the holy Scriptures,
had we more our delight in them, they would
acquaint us better with all these things, and
give us light to see them, and warm our
hearts, and excite them to his praises, who
is the God of all our mercies.
Direct. III. The heart being somewhat dis-
posed to praise, and them studying the matter
of it, should be applied actually to render
praise. And in order to this, we must be
careful, 1. To aim at God in all, which is
continued praise; to eye his glory in every-
thing, and chiefly to desire that, as our great
end, that his name may be exalted. This is
the eacellent way indeed. Whereas most are
either wholly for their self-ends, or often
squinting out to them. That soul is most no.
ble, which singly and fixedly aims at exalt-
ing God, and seeks to have this stamp on all
it speaks and does, and desires: All to the
greater glory of my God. 2. To abound in
the express and solemn return of praise this
way. To him be glory, not a customary
dead saying of it over, as is usual with us,
but the heart offering it up. What is so pure
and high as this exercise, the praises of ever-
glorious Deity ? What is heaven but these ?
And were it not best, as we can, to begin it
here, and long to be there, where it shall
never end ? To him be glory and dominion
for ever and ever. Amen.
VER. 12. By Silvanus, a faithful brother unto you (as
I supposé), I have written briefly, exhorting, and
testifying that this is the true grace of God where-
in ye stand.
VER. 13. The church that is at Babylon, elected to-
gether with you, saluteth you; and so doth Mar-
cus, my son. e -
VER. 14. Greet ye one another with a kiss of charity.
Peace be with you all that are in Christ Jesus.
Amen.
356
THIS is a kind of postscript, and contains
a testimony of the bearer, and the apostolic
form of saluting. Withal, the apostle ex-
presses the measure of his writing, that it
was brief, and the end of it, that it was to
testify the true grace of God. And this is,
indeed, the end of our preaching, and we
ought each to seek it by the word, and by
mutual exhortations; and sometimes a few
words may avail much to this purpose, to our
hearty establishment in the faith. And not
only are we to believe, but to remember that
we have the best of it; that there is truth in
our hopes, and they shall not deceive us.
They are no fancy, as the world thinks, but
the true grace of God ; yea, when all things
else ji vanish, their truth shall most ap-
pear in their full accomplishment.
The entertainment and increase of Chris-
tian love, of due esteem one of another, and
affection one to another, is no matter of emp-
ty compliment, but is the very stamp and
A COMMENTARY UPON THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER.
[CHAP. W.
badge of Jesus Christ upon his followers; it
is, therefore, most carefully to be preserved
entire, and unhappy are they that do by any
means willingly break it. Oh, let us beware
of doing so, and follow peace, even when it
seems to fly from us!
This peace that is the portion of those in
Christ, is indeed within them, and with God.
But through him, it is likewise one with an-
other, and in that notion it is to be desired
and wished jointly with the other.
They that are in Christ are the only chil-
dren and heirs of true peace. Others may
dream of it, and have a false peace for a
time, and wicked men may wish it to them-
selves and one another; but it is a most vain
hope, and will come to naught. But to wish
it to them that are in Christhath good ground;
for all solid peace is founded on him, and
flows from him. Now, the peace of God,
which passeth all understanding, keep your
hearts and minds,through Jesus Christ. Amen.
MEDITATIONS,
C. R.I.TIC A. L. A N D PR A C T IC A. L.,
ON
PSALMS I.W., XXXII., AND CXXX.
TRANSLATED FROM THE LATIN OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON, BY THE REV. DR. PHILIP DODDRIDGE,
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM IV.
TITLE, To the chief Musician on Neginoth, a Psalm
of David.
MANy of the calamities of good men look
like miseries, which yet, on the whole, ap-
pear to have conduced greatly to their hap-
piness; witness the many prayers which they
poured out in those calamities, the many sea-
sonable and shining deliverances which suc-
ceeded them, and the many hymns of praise
they sang to God their deliverer; so that they
seem to have been cast into the fire on pur-
pose that the odor of their graces might dif-
fuse itself abroad.
The seventy Greek interpreters seem to
have read the word which we render to the
chief musician, something different from the
reading of our present Hebrew copy, i. e.
Lemenetz, instead of Lemenetzoth 5 and there-
fore they render it, eis réAos, as the Latin does,
in finem, to the end. Whence the Greek
and Latin fathers imagined, that all the
psalms which bear this inscription refer to
the Messiah, the great end and the accomplish-
ment of all things; a sentiment which was
rather pious than judicious, and led them often
to wrest several passages in the psalms by vio-
lent and unnatural glosses. Yet I would not
morosely reject all interpretations of that kind,
seeing the apostles themselves apply to Christ
many passages out of the psalms and other
books of the Old Testament, which, if we had
not been assured of it by their authority, we
should hardly have imagined to have had any
reference to him. Nor is it probable that
they enumerated all the predictions of the
Messiah which are to be found in the pro-
phetic writings, but only a very small part
of them, while they often assure us that all
the sacred writers principally centre in him.
And it is certain the passage out of this
psalm, which Austin, and some others, Sup-
pose to refer to Christ, may be applied to him
without any force upon the expression : O ye
sons of men, how long will ye turn my glory
into shame * And what follows they explain
with the same reference: Know that the Lord
has in a wonderful manner separated his
Holy One unto himself. Others, however,
render the title in a different manner (Victori)
to the conqueror. Moderns translate it prae-
centori, or praefecto musica, to the chief
musician, or him who presided over the band
of musicians, which after all seems the most
natural interpretation. The word Neginoth,
which is sometimes rendered stringed instru-
ments, did no doubt signify instruments of
music which were struck to give their sound,
as Nehiloth, in the title of Psalm V. seems,
though not without some little irregularity
in the etymology, to signify instruments of
wind music. The psalm was written by
David, as a summary of the prayer he had
poured out before God, when some exceeding
great affliction seemed to besiege him on
every side, whether it was the persecution
of Saul, or the conspiracy of Absalom his son.
VER. 1. Hear me when I call, O God of my righte-
ousness | Thou hast enlarged me when I was in
distress, have mercy upon me and hear my prayer.
Hear me..] Behold the sanctuary to which
this good man betook himself, in all the af-
flictions of his life; a sanctuary which there-
fore he sets off, by accumulating a variety of
expressive titles all to the same purpose,
Psalm xviii. 1: My rock, my fortress, my
strength, my deliverer, my buckler, &c. He
is indeed a place of refuge to his children :
and therefore, as Solomon expresses it, Prov.
xiv. 26, In the fear of the Lord is a strong
confidence. There seems something of an
enigma in that expression—confidence in fear,
yet the thing itself is most true. And again,
Prov. xviii. 10, The name of the Lord is a
strong tower ; the righteous runneth into it,
and is safe. And they who know not this
Refuge are miserable; and when any danger
arises, they run hither and thither, as Anto-
* They read it gravi corde, as expressive of the
stupidity of heart which the rejecting of Christ and
his gospel manifests.
358
[VER. 1.
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM IV.
ninus beautifully expresses it, gvárov tropewow
6tadpogais, “They fly and flutter they know not
whither.” The life of man upon earth is a
warfare ; and it is much better, in the midst
of enemies and dangers, to be acquainted with
one fortress than with many inns. He that
knows how to pray, may be pressed, but can
not be overwhelmed.*
Hear me, O Lord, hear my prayer.] He
did not think it enough to have said this once,
but he redoubled it. He who prays indeed,
is seriously engaged in the matter; and not
only seriously, but vehemently too, and urges
the address, because he himself is urged by
his necessities and difficulties, and the ardent
motion of his own desire and affection. And
let it be observed, that these are the only
prayers that mount on high, and offer a kind
of grateſul violence to Heaven. Nor does the
Divine goodness grant anything with greater
readiness and delight, than the blessings which
seem, if I may be allowed the expression, to
be forced out and extorted by the most fervent
prayer. So that Tertullian used to say, that
“when we pray eagerly, we do as it were com-
bine in a resolute band, and lay siege to God
himself.”f These are the perpetual sacrifices
in the temple of God (9ugia. Aoyukai), rational
wictims; prayers and intermingled vows,
flowing from an upright and pure heart. But
he who presents his petitions coldly seems to
bespeak a denial: for is it to be wondered at,
that we do not prevail on God to hear our
prayers, when we hardly hear them ourselves
while we offer them 2 How can we suppose
that such devotions should penetrate heaven,
Or ascend up to it? How should they ascend,
when they do not so much as go forth from
our own bosoms, but, like wretched abortives,
die in the very birth ! But why do I say that
they do not go out from the inward recesses
of our bosoms' Alas! they are only formed
on the surface of our lips, and they expire
there, quite different from what Homer ascri-
bes to his wise and eloquent Ulysses, when
he says,
Cra re usyáXnv čk -’980s tet.
Forth from his breast he poured a mighty cry.
Thou God of my righteousness.] q. d. O
God, who art righteous thyself, and art the
patron of my righteousness, of my righteous
cause and of my righteous life. For it is neces-
sary that both should concur, if we desire to
address our prayers to God with any confi-
dence; not that, depending upon this righte-
ousness, we should seek the Divine aid and
favor as a matter of just debt; for then, as
the apostle argues, it were no more of grace.
Rom. xi. 6. Qur prophet is certainly very
far from boasting of his merits; for here he
so mentions his righteousness, as at the same
time to cast himself upon the Divine mercy;
Have mercy wbon me, exercise thy propitious
clemency toward me. And this is indeed the
* Premi potest, non potest opprimi.
f Precantes veluti stipato aginine Deum obsidere.
genuine temper of one who truly prays with
sincerity and humility. . For polluted hands
are an abomination to the Lord, and he hates
the heart that is puffed up ; he beholds the
proud afar off, as the celebrated parable of
the Pharisee and publican, Luke xviii., is
(you know) intended to teach us. Thou art
not a God that hast pleasure in wickedness. If
I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will
not hear me. But the righteous Lord loveth
righteousness, and his countenance beholds
the upright. Whereas the words of the
wicked, when he prays, are but as a fan, or
as a bellows, to blow up the Divine displeas-
ure into a flame; for how can he appease
God who does not at all please him, or how
can he please who is indeed himself dis-
pleased with God, and who utterly disre-
gards his pure laws, and that holiness which
is so dear to him 2 s
Thou hast enlarged me when I was in dis-
tress.] I have often experienced both the
riches of thy bounty, and the power of thy
hand; and I derive confidence thence, be-
cause thou art immutable, and canst never
be wearied by rescuing thy servants from the
dangers that surround them. The examples
we have heard of Divine aid granted to others
in their distress should animate us; as David
recollected, Psalm xxii. 4: Our fathers trust-
ed in thee, they trusted in thee, and thou didst
deliver them. But our own personal experi-
ences are later and nearer, and he who treas-
ures them up in his memory, not only there-
by expresses his gratitude to God, but wisel
consults his own interest; for he enjoys all
those benefits of the Divine favor twice, or
rather as often as he needs and pleases to re-
new the enjoyment of them; and he not only
Supports his faith in new dangers, by survey-
ing God’s former interpositions, but by laying
them open before God in humble prayer, he
more earnestly implores, and more effectually
obtains new ones. By a secret kind of mag-
netism, he draws one benefit by another; he
calls out, and as it were allures the Divine
favor by itself.
Thou hast enlarged me.] The redeemed of
the Lord may especially say so, in reference
to that grand and principal deliverance by
which they are snatched from the borders of
hell, from the jaws of eternal death. The re-
membrance of so great salvation may well
excite songs of perpetual praise, to be as-
cribed Deo liberatori, to God the deliverer;
and by this deliverance, so much more illus-
trious than any of the rest, they may be en-
couraged in the confidence of faith, to urge
and hope for the aids of his saving arm in
every other exigence.
One thing more may be observed here, but
it is so very obvious that I shall only just
mention it, as what needs not be much in-
culcated, That he who has not been accus-
tomed to prayer when the pleasant gales of
prosperity, have been breathing upon him,
will have little skill and confidence in apply-
WER. 2.] MEDITATIONS
ON PSALM IV. 359
ing himself to it, when the storms of adver-
sity arise ; as Xenophon well observed in the
person of Cyrus.*
VER. 2. O ye sons of men, how ong will ye turn my
glory into shame 7 . How long will ye love vanity,
and seek after leasing 7 Selah.
JUSTLY may we admire the force and the
speed with which prayer flies up to heaven,
and brings down answers thence, àpa štos ºpa
#pyov, no sooner said than done ; if not as to
the accomplishment of the thing itself, which
perhaps may be more opportune in some fu-
ture hour, yet, at least, in clear, firm hope,
and strong confidence, sent from above into a
praying soul. Prayer soars above the vio-
lence and impiety of men, and with a swift
wing commits itself to Heaven, with happy
omen, if I may allude to what the learned
tell us of the augury of the ancients, which I
shall not minutely discuss. Fervent prayers
stretch forth a strong, wide-extended wing,
and while the birds of night hover beneath,
they mount aloft and point out, as it were,
the proper seats to which we should aspire.
For certainly there is nothing that cuts the air
so swiftly, nothing that takes so sublime, so
happy, and so auspicious a flight as prayer,
which bears the soul on its pinions, and
leaves far behind all the dangers, and even
the delights of this low world of ours. Be-
hold this holy man, who just before was cry-
ing to God in the midst of distress, and with
urgent importunity entreating that he might
be heard, now, as if he were already pos-
sessed of all he had asked, taking upon him
boldly to rebuke his enemies, how highly so-
ever they were exalted, and how potent so-
ever they might be even in the royal palace.
O ye sons of men.] The Hebrew phrase
here used, Bene Isch, properly speaking, sig-
nifies noble men and great men, as persons
of plebeian rank are called Bene Adam :f q. d.
Whoever you are, and however illustrious
by birth, or inflated with pride, or perhaps
formidable on both accounts, your greatness
is false, and when it is most blown up, is
most likely to burst. That is a sound and sta-
ble degree of honor to which God has des-
tined his servants, whom you insult and de-
ride. The height of your honor and vanish-
ing glory, from the exaltation of which you
look down upon me, will, if you desire I
should speak the truth, only render your fu-
ture fall more grievous and fatal, which he
whose destruction you seek with such insa-
tiable rage, sees indeed, but does not wish;
may, he rather wishes that this misery may
be averted from you, and that by a return to
the exercise of your right mind, it may be to-
tally prevented: and therefore he gives you
this admonition, lest, while you are deriding
him, unexpected destruction should come
*IIapá ràv 0sºv Trpakrixórepos àv sin. Öarep kai traff
évôpórov, Üois ph, brére ºv dropots sin, röre kokaksáot
d^\' ºre mp3rrot, röre páAosta row 0sdiv pépunrat.
f Accordingly, the Latin renders it, not filii homi-
num, but filii virorum,
upon you, and your laughter should prove of
the Sardonic kind, which nothing can quiet
till it end in death. You have indeed great
strength and deep counsel, but these things
are only the blandishments of your ruin, and
the splendid prelude to that misery which is
hovering over you. You have spent time
enough, and, alas ! how much more than
enough, in giving chase to such vanities; at
last regard the man who, in the most disin-
terested manner, admonishes you of the most
important truths.
How long will yeturn my glory into shame.]
The Septuagint appears to have read these
words something different from our copies,
but the sense is nevertheless much the same;*
and though the psalmist, in the affair which
he had in view, speaks only of a few, the
words themselves have such an expressive
dignity, and are in truth so unhappily exten-
sive, that without doing any the least violence
to them, they may be considered as an ad-
monition to all mankind. O ye sons of men,
how long will ye love vanity and lies 2 For,
indeed, what are all those things which we
foolish mortals pursue with such contention
and ardor of spirit, but as an ancient expresses
it, “trifles that are like but the shadow of
smoke 2’’í But we are to speak of this here-
after. In the mean time, let us attend to the
words before us, How long will ye turn my
lory into shame 2 The things which are the
rightest ornaments of human nature, and
which alone constitute its very glory, are holi-
ness, piety, and faith; and these are treated
as if they were the most despicable and igno-
minious things in the whole world. Among
Christians, or those who are called by that
name, it is the greatest of all scandal to be a
Christian indeed. We have long since lost
the true names of things; candid simplicity
of manners is despised as rusticity; lively re-
ligion is called the delirious dream of super-
stitious notions; and gentleness, dulness, and
stupidity : while pride has usurped the name
of magnanimity, and craft that of wisdom.
Thus we turn true glory into shame, and
shame into glory. And because few are able
to discern what tends to their eternal happi-
ness, they squander away the whole day of
this short life in pursuing and catching at the
false and fictitious forms of it; yea, they seek
a lie, lying vanity. And they who heap up
riches seem to be wise both to themselves
and others; but oh, how far from it, and with
how base a lie do they impose upon them-
selves | For these riches are spent upon
gratifying their palate, and ministering in
other respects to their luxury. Into how
foul a gulf do they throw what they have
labored so eagerly to gain Or if they hoard
up their wealth, how soon do they pass over
* They render it to; rors 8agvrápévot, “How long are
ye slow of heart.” And the Latins, Usque quo grati
corde. Instead of Kebudi lekelesseh, they read Kebudi
leklessi.
f q^éðoves àravra kai karvoi, oxtai.
360
[WER 3.
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM IV.
the property to their heirs! . Men hunt after
fame and vain glory, and, when they seem to
have caught it, feed upon air, and become the
slaves of all, even the meanest, for a thing
of naught. And as for pleasure, who is so
senseless as not to know how deceitful a lie
it proves at last ! ... It drives men into a weak
phrensy, to run after the most trifling objects
of pursuit, which fly from them like bees,
who, if they are taken, yield but a drop of
honey, and repay the spoil of it with a painful
sting; a sting which, alas, reaches the very
heart. Religion is a high sublime thing,
royal, unconquerable, unwearied; but pleas-
ure is low, servile, weak, and withering. Re-
ligion is neither attended by sickly disgust in
the enjoyment, nor by bitter repentance in the
reflection; but what the world calls pleasure
is attended by both. Hear, my young friend,
hear the Divine voice of celestial wisdom
calling you with fervent affection and a loud
cry, from the trackless ways of error and pre-
cipices of misery. How long, does she say,
how long will ye love vanity, and seek after
leasing 2 . He that seeks me, shall not be
wearied in running hither and thither, but
shall find me sitting at his door and waiting
admittance ; and he who finds me needs seek
nothing else, unless he be one whom a life of
real happiness can not satisfy. Oh, that the
indefatigable labor and industry with which
men pursue flattering and uncertain enjoy-
ments may stir up your minds to exert at least
an equal diligence in this sublime and most
blessed pursuit ! For if, as St. Chrysostom
speaks, it may seem indecent for me to press
you further to such an attachment to these
objects as they require, it will be a lovely
thing to give it without further solicitation.
But to proceed, *
How long will you love vanity, and seek
after leasing.] Can any one deny that this
is the character of almost everything that is
to be found in human life? Should a man
proclaim this in every company with a loud
voice, he would soon pass for a lunatic ; but
certainly, he might reproach them with the
general madness which reigns among man-
kind, not only among the vulgar that he meets
with in the streets, but the philosophers dis-
puting in the school, the counsellors pleading
in our courts of judicature, yea, the senators
and nobles that sit in the most august assem-
bly. And oh, how happy are they, of what-
ever order, whom the hand of God draws out
of the crowd, and turns their minds from these
various lying and transitory vanities, to the
pursuit of true and lasting good | Happy they
whom he, by a wonderful interposition of
grace in their favor, sets apart as dear to him-
self. Which leads to the 3d verse.
VER. 3. But know, that the Lord hath set apart him
that is godly for himself: the Lord will hear me
when I call unto him.
THE prophet hath this great support both
of his faith and of his kingdom, the immuta-
ble and unshaken decree of the Supreme and
universal king, and it is the firm establish-
ment of David's infinitely greater Son in his
throne and kingdom, I will declare the decree.
Psalm ii. 7. In this verse, and there, we may
most properly understand it of both ; more
immediately of David as the type, but chiefly,
and in its consummate sense, as referring to
Christ the Lord, and having its full end and
accomplishment in his endless and eternal
kingdom. He is, by way of eminence, God's
holy one, holy, and harmless, undefiled, sepa-
rate from sinners. And those, whoever they
are, who endeavor to oppose themselves to
the Divine purposes, betray the most despe-
rate madness, and on whatever strength or
counsel they depend in the enterprise, like
waves dashed against the solid rock, they
shall be broken in pieces, by what they vainly
attempt to break. And on this basis does the
whole safety of the whole church rest, and
that of all God's saints, of all those whom he
sets apart for himself, and (as the form of the
original here has been thought to imply)
wonderfully separates, as his peculiar people
and treasure, the sacred charge of Christ the
great shepherd and bishop of souls, which all
the powers of earth and the gates of hell shall
in vain attempt to wrest from him. And this
is the confidence on which believers should
repose themselves. They never trust to them-
selves or their own strength or virtues, but
they often redouble that cry, Thou, Lord, art
my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer.
Psalm xviii. 2. And Psalm xxxiv. 8, Blessed,
O Lord, is the man who trusteth in thee, who
must previously and necessarily despair first
of himself, as considered in himself alone, as
the great apostle says, When I am weak, then
am I strongest of all, 2 Cor. xii. 10; accord-
ing to that lively and just expression, “Faith
which is endangered in security, in secure in
danger.”
The psalmist adds, The Lord will hear me
when I call. From the Divine decree and
favor, he promises not to himself an entire
freedom from all and every attempt of his
enemies, but assures himself that God will be
present in the midst of his calamities, present
and propitious; not to the indolent and drowsy
soul, but to that which solicits his assistance
by prayer. And this is the determination of
every godly man, whom the Lord has set
apart for himself, that he will call upon God
without ceasing, and that if any unusual dif-
ficulty arise, he will call upon him more fer-
vently. Hence it appears, how entirely all
our safety depends upon prayer. Yet, all our
prayers, and those of the whole church, are
sustained by those prayers of our great king
and priest; as Augustine says in reference to
that known story in the Evangelists, Because
the waves rise, the ship may be tossed, but be-
cause Christ prays, it can not be sunk.f
* Fides quae in securitate periclitatur, in periculis
secura est.
f Quia insurgunt fluctus, potest turbarinavicula, sed
quia Christus orat, non potest mergi.
WER. 4.] MEDITATIONS
ON PSALM IV. 361
VER. 4. Stand in awe and sin not : commune with
your own heart on your bed, and be still. Selah.
OH most friendly counsel which is here of.
fered to enemies This is indeed overcom-
ing hatred and injury with the very best of
favors; by far the most noble kind of victory.
A sublime and heavenly mind, like the upper
region of the world, is not only itself always
calm and serene, as being inaccessible to
every breath of injury and turbulent impres-
sion, but it also continually sheds down its
benign influences without distinction on all
below it, on the evil and the good, the just
and the unjust. Stand in awe ; the Hebrew
and Greek have it, be ye moved ; and as this
emotion may arise either from anger, fear, or
any other affection of the mind, the Septuagint
renders it, be angry and sin not, a maxim
which St. Paul finding to his purpose, inserts.
in his epistle to the Ephesians, ch. iv. 26.
Nevertheless, the author of this psalm here
seems apparently to demand their fear rather
than their anger; and accordingly, the Tar-
gum explains it, fear him. i. e. God, and sin
not : Kimchi—fear the Lord who has chosen
me king, and Abenezra—fear God and despise
not my glory, for that great king will require
the derision at the hand of the deriders.
The passions are the inmost wheels of this
machine which we call man, whose motions
all the rest of the life follows, and all the
errors of this career of ours proceed from their
irregularity. Of so great importance is it
that every one rightly determine what he
should desire, and hope, and fear. And from
the time that man lost the ingenuousness of
his disposition, and became like a wild ass-
colt, the use of fear is become very great. It
is true that they who are born again, and who
really are the sons of God, are especially led
by the sweet and noble energy of this Divine
principle, and therefore it is the saying of the
beloved apostle, that perfect love, or charity,
casteth out fear. 1 John iv. 18. But as the
generality of mankind are either entirely
destitute of this Divine love, or possess it
only in a very low and imperfect degree, so
it is certain, that with regard to him whose
heart is most entirely fired with this celestial
tlame, we may understand the words as signi-
tying, that in such a one this great and fer-
went love does indeed cast out all despairings
und diffident fears, but not that of a pious and
reverential awe. Alas! most of us, under
the pretence of avoiding a servile terror, per-
versely shake off the bonds of holy and in-
genuous fear, and become obstinate and self-
willed; whereas, when we look into the word
of God we shall find the holiest men there
tremble in the Divine presence, and some-
times acknowledge even greater horror of
mind. My flesh trembleth for fear of thee,
and I am afraid of thy judgments. Psalm
CXiX. 120. Destruction from God was a ter-
ror to me, and because of his eacellency I
could not endure. Job xxxi. 23. In this sense,
as David declares, The fear of the Lord is
clean, and endureth for ever, Psalm xix. 9,
endures in the most happy agreement with
perfect love. Nor is it to remain only in
spirits that inhabit flesh, but in all the angelic
choirs, pure and happy as they are. Nay,
the profound reverence of that eternal and
tremendous majesty flourishes and reigns most
of all there; for in proportion to the degree
in which the knowledge is clearer, and vision
more distinct, are the veneration and the fear
more deep and humble. How reasonable
then must it be, that mortal men, beset with
sore temptations and dangers, should, as
Hezekiah expresseth it, walk softly and trem-
ble before that infinite Majesty, at whose voice
the earth is shaken, and at whose rebuke the
pillars of heaven are moved. With great
propriety did one of the ancients say, “Fear
is the first swaddling band of new-born wis-
dom,” or, as the Scripture expresses it, The
fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.
It is observed that the original word there
made use of, signifies both the beginning and
the top 5 and in both senses it is most true.
The author just mentioned admirably says,
“Do they call such a one unlearned 3 It is
the only wisdom I know, to fear God; it is
the beginning of wisdom and the end of all
discourse, as Solomon describes it : it is in-
deed the rà Tây the whole matter, the whole
concern of man, and it is all in all—fear
God.”f And elsewhere he adds, “This fear
is most salutary to men, but at the same time
most rare, superlatively so.”f And once
more, “It is,” says he, “the greatest of all
good things, to fear God; and the ungodly, in
falling from it, shall not be permitted long to
continue in the abuse of his own folly.”||
Well, therefore, is it here added, sin not. This
fear is the water of the sanctuary, to quench
all the flames of concupiscence. This, says
Bernard, is the arrow that strikes through all
the desires of the flesh. Hence arose Abra-
ham's fear and apprehension among strangers:
Surely, says he, the fear of God is not in this
place. Gen. xx. 11.
But in order to produce this fear, it is ne-
cessary that we should have right conceptions
of God; that nothing impure can please him,
because he is holiness itself; that nothing Se-
cret can be concealed from him, because he
is light; nor can any sinner surely be mad
enough to hope he shall escape the long hand
of this righteous Judge and supreme King,
whose power is immense, and who can not
be a respecter of persons. What evil, then,
* ‘O på8on rpárov rms copias grápyavov. GREG.
NAz.
f' Araíčevrov čvopágovot; uſaw copfavoidia, rö $offeto-
6at 6eóv' dpxi re yap oopſas, $680s Kvptov kai réAos A6-
yov, rö Tav škove, špm XoAopov, rov Geów po605–GREG,
NAz. OR. 28.
tºp630s & 080i, dv6pómov garāptos, orávtos de, oravić-
Taroše
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6hs #kready of troAv xpovov rii Šavroi, Hopia karaxpfive-
70 t,
46
362 MEDITATIONS
ON PSALM IV. a
[VER. 5.
can escape with inpunity ? Thou, O Lord,
thou only art to be feared, and who can stand
before thee when once thou art angry 2 Psalm
lxxvi. 7.
Commune with your own heart.] Or, as
Some render it, eacamine yourselves. " Oh, how
few do this Men live abroad, and are indeed
strangers at home : the great mark of human
madness, to delight in speaking and hearing
of what concerns others, “While no individu-
al will attempt to descend into himself.” Yet
this faculty, which we call reflection, is the
peculiar privilege of human nature; and to be
borne on wholly by external objects, is indeed
brutal. And oh, what heaps of disorder, what
odious filthiness must there necessarily be in a
breast which is never looked into and cleansed
out ! Dear youths, if, amid all your other
studies, you do not learn to converse and
commune with your own selves, whatever
you know, or rather, whatever you imagine
you know, I would not purchase it at the ex-
pense of a straw.
On your bed.] Or, as some would render
it, in your secret chambers, when free from
the noise of the world, and hurries of their
daily business. An ancient said, “The re-
flections of the night are deepest.”f And it
has been observed, that David, in the nine-
teenth Psalm, ascribes speech to the day, and
wisdom to the silent night. It is an excellent
advice of Pythagoras, and the verses that con-
tain it do indeed deserve to be called golden,
that “We should not allow ourselves to go
to sleep, till we have seriously revolved the
actions of the day, and asked ourselves, ‘What
have I done amiss 2 What good have I done,
or neglected to do ’’ that so we may reprove
ourselves for what has been wrong, and take
the comfort of what has been as it ought.”f
And be still.] This refers not so much to
the tongue, as to the mind: for what does an
external silence signify, if the inward affec-
tions be turbulent 2 A sedate and composed
* Ut memo in sese tentat descendere, nemo.
f Baffvrápai yap vokros péves.
f The original, with Mr. Rowe's translation and
paraphrase, is as follows:—
Mi, 6 ºrvov ua)\akota w śr' dupact mporáčagflat,
IIepi row flueptvöv špyov rpis $kaorov inex0eiv.
IIñ trapéºnv; rí ó’ #peča; ri pot jeov oik Šms),800m;
Apšáuevos & aro rporoijärévôt kai peréreira,
Aetvå Hev Škirpíčas, trim Añaged Xpmotá če, réprov.
“Let not the stealing god of sleep surprise,
Nor creep in slumbers on thy weary eyes,
Ere jº, action of the former day
Strictly thou dost and righteously survey.
With reverence at thy own tribunal stand,
And answer justly to thy own demand,
Where have I been? In what have I transgressed ?
What good or ill has this day's life expressed?
Where have I failed in what I ought to do?
In what to God, to man, or to myself I owe ?
Inquire severe, whate'er from first to last,
From morning's dawn till evening's gloom has past.
If evil were thy deeds, repenting mourn,
And let thy soul with strong remorse be torn.
If good, the good with peace of mind repay,
And to thy secret self with pleasure say,
* Rejoice, my heart, for all went well to-day.’”
mind is necessary in order to know ourselves
and to know God, as it is hinted in Psalm xlvi.
Be still and know that I am God. Such wisdom
both deserves and demands a vacant soul:
it will not, as it were, thrust itself into a cor-
ner, nor inhabit a polluted or unquiet breast.
God was not in the whirlwind, nor in the fire,
but in the still small voice. , 1 Kings xix. 12.
The Holy Spirit is peaceful and pacific, but
wicked men are turbulent and stormy, driven
like the sea, whose waves are tossed about,
and throw up continually mire and dirt. Im-
purity is the inseparable attendant of this in-
quietude : but the wisdom that is from above,
7s first pure, then peaceable, évvñ, retra tipmvuki,
pacific, James iii. 17; and in that blessed
country to which it teaches us to aspire, there
is the most perfect and everlasting cohabita-
tion of purity and peace.
VER. 5. Offer the sacrifices of righteousness, and put
your trust in the Lord.
THE mind of man is earthly, I say, otos vöy
8porot stat: as mortals now are entangled in the
folds of flesh and sense, it knows not how to
rise to things celestial and divine : and when
it is stimulated with some sense of the eter-
mal Deity, and the worship due to him, it gen-
erally slides into some lighter offices and ex-
termal rites, how carelessly soever performed,
and there it rests. But God is a spirit, and
requires to be worshipped in spirit and in
truth. And the solemn visible sacrifices,
when instituted by the command of him the
great Invisible, are to be presented by every
pious person with all humble and obedient
regard; yet, the chief labor is to be employed
on the pure, sublime worship and obedience
of the mind. The heathen philosophers ob-
jected to the primitive Christians, that they
did not sacrifice ; to which some of the early
apologists reply thus: “The Former and
Parent of the whole universe has no need
of incense and of blood. The greatest sac-
rifice we can present to him, is to know
who has stretched out the heavens, who has
laid the foundations of the earth, who has
gathered the waters into the hollow of the
sea, and divided the light from the dark-
ness, who has formed the whole animal
world and the human species, and who gov-
erns them all by his nod; and acknowledging
him such an immense and omnipotent being,
to lift up pure and holy hands to him.” And
the truth of this sentiment has generally pre-
vailed throughout all ages: even in the Jew-
ish church, while the obligation to sacrifice
did yet continue, with all the laborious insti-
tution of external worship, holiness, and righte-
eousness, and integrity of heart and iife, were
acknowledged to be the most essential parts
of religion, though, alas! while all confessed
it in words, there were very few that set
themselves seriously to perform it. Hence
arose the necessity of inculcating this lesson
so frequently, Psalm 1., Isaiah i., xxix., &c.
* Athenagoras.
WER. 6.]
363
MIEDITATIONS ON PSALM IV.
And what is there taught at large, is here
hinted in this short clause. Since the temple
has been demolished, and the priests with
their sacrifices have ceased, the Jews them-
selves have instituted, in the place of this, the
º; of the lip, with the commemoration
only of ancient sacrifice, persuaded that this
would be equally effectual, and have appoint-
ed three daily lessons, calling him who dili-
gently recites them, a son of eternal life.
Offer the sacrifices of righteousness.] It is
no improbable conjecture of some commenta-
tors, that David here refers to the confidence
and boast of some of Saul’s courtiers in those
sacrifices and that solemn worship from which
their envy had perhaps banished him. It is
certainly much easier to sacrifice a ram or a
bullock, than to slay anger or ambition ; ea-
sier, indeed, to heap up whole hecatombs of
animals, than to resign one brutal affection
or concupiscence ; yea, easier to present all
our goods, than ourselves as living sacrifices,
though that is undoubtedly our reasonable ser-
vice. The Mosaic sacrifices, though instituted
by God, borrowed all their value from that
Evening Victim which was to be slain in the
end of the world, who was himself the sacri-
fice and the altar, and the one only High
Priest, after the order of Melchizedec , who
yet instituted a perpetual succession of those
who should be a royal priesthood, the whole
series of which priests, in their succeeding
generations, are daily offering to God, the Fa-
ther of spirits, the pure and spiritual sacrifice
of righteousness, most acceptable to him, as
passing through the hand of that great High
Priest, who incessantly ministers in that high
and holy sanctuary. As Bernard excellently
speaks,” “Nothing, Lord, that is thine can
suffice me without thyself, nor can anything
that is mine without myself, be pleasing to
thee.” And St. Augustine,t “Let thy fire
entirely consume me, so that nothing of me
may remain to myself.” And this one holo-
caust comprehends all the sacrifices of righ-
teousness; the understanding, the love, all the
affections and faculties of the soul, and organs
of our bodies; all our words, actions, and
thoughts, prayers and vows, hymns and
thanksgivings, piety, modesty, charity, and
the whole choir of virtues, exercised in a dili-
gent and harmonious observance of all his
precepts. These are victims and perfumes
of incense worthy so pure a Deity, who eats
not the flesh of bulls, nor drinks the blood of
goats ; who, if he were hungry, would not ask
us, since all the beasts of the forest are his,
and the cattle upon a thousand hills. Offer
unto God thanksgiving, and pay thy vows
unto the Most High. For he that offereth
praise glorifies him, and to him that orders
his conversation aright, will he show the sal-
vatzon of God.
* Nec mihi tua sufficiunt sine te, nec tibi placent
mea sine me.
f Totum me consumat ignis tuus, nihil mei rema-
neat mihi.
Even the heathen philosophers and poets
saw and taught, that these sacrifices of a pious
mind were most fit for a rational worshipper,
and must be most fit for God, to whom they
are addressed. “Strange indeed would it be,”
says Socrates, “if the gods should look to the
gift and sacrifice, and not the soul.” And pas-
sages of Horace* and Persiusf to this purpose
are so well known, that they need not be re-
peated. The language of the son of Sirach
is also agreeable to it, Eccles. xxxv. 1–3 : He
that keepeth the law, bringeth offerings enough;
he that taketh heed to the commandment, .#
eth a peace-offering. He that requiteth a good
turn, offereth fine flour; and he that gives
alms, sacrificeth praise. To depart from wick-
edness is a thing pleasing to the Lord, and to
forsake unrighteousness is a propitiation.
And put your trust in the Lord.] This very
trust with which the mind reposes itself upon
God, is both the great consolation of a good
man, and the great sacrifice of piety and righ-
teousness. The faith of Abraham was a sac-
rifice much dearer to God, not only than the
ran which he actually offered, but even, than
his dearest son whom he had brought to the
altar. He was strong in faith, says the apos-
tle, and so he gave glory to God. And again,
only they who offer the sacrifice of righteous-
ness can rely upon him with a true and solid
confidence. Not that these sacrifices, though
the choicest and best of all, can pretend to
any merit, but because they are the most gen-
uine signs and most certain seals of a soul in
covenant with God. So that there is indeed
a mutual signing ; God offering the dearest
pledges of his favor to us, and we, in like
manner, as is most fit, rendering all that we
have, and all that we are, to him, with the
most humble and grateful heart. And cer-
tainly this union and perpetual, undivided
friendship, is the true ev0upia of the holy soul;
that temperature which alone can give it solid
tranquillity and felicity, as it follows present-
ly after in this Psalm.
VER. 6. There be many that say, Who will show us
any good? Lord, lift thou up the light of thy coun-
tenance upon us.
THE psalmist now returns to himself and
his own affairs, and having sufficiently ad-
monished his enemies concerning the true
and only good, enforces his exhortation by his
example, that if they thought fit, they might
follow it (for this is the most efficacious man-
ner of teaching); but if they would not, that
he might at least enjoy the benefit of his own
counsel, and wrapping himself up in his own
happiness, might, from that eminence, look
down upon all the vain and wretched pursuits
of the mad Vulgar. Like drunken men, they
* Immunis aram sitetigit manus:
Non sumptuosá blandior hostiá,
Mollibit aversos Penateis
Farre pio, et saliente mică.
f Compositum jus fasque animi, sanctosque recessus
Mentis, et incoctum generoso pectus honesto.
Haec cédout admoveam templis, et farre litabo.
*
364
[VER, 7.
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM IV.
reel and stagger from place to place ; they
often fall down upon their face, and strike
and dash themselves against what they de-
sired to embrace. Through all their life,
with an unstable pace, they catch at flying
forms of good; and after all their falls and
their bruises, they cry out again and again,
Who will show us any good & And when they
behold any new species or shadow of it, they
immediately run to it. Nay, perhaps so light
and various are they in their pursuit, they re-
turn again to that in which they had been
frequently deceived, and which they had as
often abandoned. Rabbi Solomon paraphrases
the words thus: “When Israel saw the na-
tions prosperous, he said, ‘Who will show us
a like prosperity ?' But David says, “Envy
them not ; we have a sublimer prosperity in
the light of thy Divine countenance.’”—
“That is good,” says the great philosopher
of the schools, “which all pursue.” The
various affections and desires of the mind are
as the pulse and natural respiration ; but cer-
tain internal principles, which, not inwrought
by nature, are afterward received and deeply
engraved upon the heart, are the springs of
that motion: our different opinions of different
things do nevertheless all meet in this—that
we would see good. But they who select,
from the various objects that present them-
selves, a suitable, complete, aud substantial
good, and who, neglecting everything else,
bend all their pursuits to that, are the only
wise and happy men.
This, the psalmist professes he did, and
freely invites all that pleased, to join and
take a part with him in these desires and pur-
suits, well-knowing that the happiness was
abundantly sufficient for many, for all that
would apply themselves to it, and such as
could not at all be diminished by being im-
parted for it was indeed the airdpkes kaxåv, the
self-sufficient and all-sufficient good, which
was one of the titles that some of the wiser
heathens gave their Jupiter. But he of whom
we speak is the living and the true God ;
nor is there any other good whatsoever ade-
quate to the human mind. And what we say
of his infinite sufficiency, is most aptly signi-
fied by this adumbration which the psalmist
uses, I say, by the adumbration of light, nor
do I think fit to correct it as an incongru-
ous expression, for light is indeed as it were
the shadow of God, and that fulness of su-
preme good which is in him, is in Some de-
gree shadowed out by light, which entirely
illustrates, with the full stream of its rays, all
who behold it, and is not broken into little
fragments, to be sparingly distributed to each.
Many seek many things ; they pursue any
good, with uncertain and ignorant desires';
but we have fixed upon the one petition we
should insist upon, for in this one is all, Lord,
lift up the light of thy countenance upon us.
Oh rich, grand, and incomparable desire :
Without this, all the proudest palaces of mon-
archs are gloomy caverns, dark as hell, and
all the riches of all the earth mere indigence.
This is the proper light of the intellectual
world, and it puts gladness into the heart, as
it follows.
VER. 7. Thou hast put gladness into my heart more
than in the time that their corn and their wine in-
creased.
Gladness into my heart.] To which the
gross delights of earthly things can not reach :
they stick as it were before the threshold.
Corn and wine are only the refreshment of
these mean, frail, earthly bodies, and the Sup-
port of this corporeal and terrene life, but
have nothing ovyyevés, congenial with, and
a-kin to the heaven-born spirit. It is said in-
deed that bread strengtheneth man’s heart,
and wine makes it glad , but the heart there
spoken of, is that which is the spring of ani-
mal life and natural spirit: whereas, to that
heart which holds the preference in hu-
man nature, which may therefore be called
the #yepovſki, the governing part, there is
nothing which gives light and gladness, be-
meath the eternal father of lights and of
spirits. He cherishes the languishing soul
with the rays of his love, and satisfies it
with the consolations of his Spirit, as with a
kind of heavenly nectar or nepenthe, that,
while it confides in his safety, lays all its
cares and fears asleep, and lulls it into deep
peace, and calm, sweet repose ; without
which, if the mind be a little agitated, no
gentle breeze of harmony, no melody of birds
or harp, can bring on the pleasing slumber,
during which, nevertheless, the heart awakes.
Oh, happy man, who betakes his whole soul
to God, and does not only choose him above
all, but in the place of all, waiting only on
him Happy man, who, having been chosen
by him with preventing love, and unmerited
benignity, embraces his ample, all-sufficient
creator for his inheritance and his wealth, of
ten repeating with sacred transport, Deus
meus et omnia My God and my all ! This
is the man that has enough ; and therefore,
to allude to the words of the poet, “he is not
disquieted by the raging of the sea, nor any
severity of the seasons, whatever stars may
rise and set.”*
God fixes his gracious dwelling in the pure
and holy soul which has learned to despise
the vanity of riches, and makes it calm in the
midst of hurries, and secure in the deepest
solicitudes. And not merely to find, but even
to seek after God, is better to such a soul, in-
expressibly better, than to possess the richest
treasure, the most extensive empire, or to
have all the variety of sensual pleasures:
waiting upon its back.
I remember to have read of some military
officers, who crossing the Nile, in the same
boat with the two Macarii of Egypt, said to
them, in allusion to their name, “You are in-
deed happy, who laugh at the world.” “Yes,”
* Neque
Tumultuosum sollicitat mare,
Nec savus Arcturi cadentis
Impetus, autorientis hopdi-HoR., lib.2, Op. 1.
WER. 1.]
365
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM XXXII.
said they, “it is evident that we are happy,
not merely in name, but in reality, but you
are unhappy whom the world derides, as
poor creatures whom it sees entangled in its
snares.”
St. Augustine also quotes from Politian, a
similar example of a Pretorian soldier, who
walking out with his comrade, found in a cot-
tage into which he accidentally came, a book
containing the life of the hermit Anthony,
and when he had read a little of it, looking
upon his friend, said, “At what are we ta-
king so much pains to arrive 2. What do we
seek 2 For what do we go through the fa-
tigues of a military life? The highest of our
hopes at court must be, to share some ex-
traordinary degree of the emperor's favor.
And how frail and dangerous a situation is
that ' And through how many other previ-
ous dangers must we pass to it! And how
soon will all the advantages we can hope
from it be over ! But I may this moment, if
I please, become the friend and favorite of
God.” And he had no sooner uttered these
words, than they both resolved upon quitting
the world, that they might give up all the re-
mainder of their days to religion. º
Holy men in former ages did wonders in
conquering the world and themselves; but
we, unhappy, degenerate, and drowsy crea-
tures as we are, blush to hear that they did
what we can not or will not do. We are, in-
deed, inclined to disbelieve the facts, and
rather choose to deny their virtues than to
confess our own indolence and cowardice.
<-
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM XXXII.
WER. 1. Blessed is the man whose transgression is
forgiven, whose sin is covered.
OH, the pure, the overflowing, the incom-
parably sweet fountain of scripture
“Hence light we draw, and fill the sacred cup”—
whereas the springs of philosophy in human
affairs are not very clear, and in Divine, they
are quite turbid and muddy ; which one of
the greatest orators and philosophers among
them all, freely confesses, “I think,” says
he, “we are not only blind to true wisdom,
but are very dull and slow of apprehension
even in those things which seem to be dis-
cerned and understood.”f Nor is this to be
wondered at ; for there would be little differ-
ence between things human and Divine, if
the dim eye of our reason were sufficient to
discover their secrets. One of the ancients
excellently says, “If you examine things ever
so accurately, you will never be able to dis-
cover them if God keeps them veiled.”f
* Hinc lucem haurire est, et pocula sacra.
f Mihi non modô ad sapientiam caeci videmur, sed
ad ea ipsa, quae aliqua ex parte cerni videantur, hebe-
tes et obtusi.-SENECA.
# 'AAA' of yńp àv ráðeta rpárrowro; 6eow
Maſłois àv odd'st wavr'êrešēēots axonºv.–SoPHocLEs.
It would be a vain and ridiculous labor, to
light up a great number of lanterns and torch-
es, and go out and look for the sun in the
night; but when the appointed hour of the
morning comes, he arises, as if of his own ac-
cord and freely manifests himself, by his own
lustre, to every beholder. The wisest of the
heathens undertook to find out the Supreme
Being and the supreme good; but wandering
through the devious ways of multiplied errors,
they could attain to neither. Nor was it the
least of their errors, that they sought them as
two different things, when it is most certain
that both are united in one ; for it is the only
and ultimate happiness of man, to be united
to that first and Supreme being and good,
from which he drew his original. But since
there has so sad a distance and disagreement
arisen between God and man, by our deplora-
ble apostacy from him, there could not be the
least hope of attaining that union, did not in-
finite goodness and mercy propose the full
and free pardon of our offences: so that the
true determination of this grand question
about happiness, is evidently that, blessed
and happy is that man whose transgression
is forgiven, and whose sin is covered. Inno-
cence was the first means of obtaining hap-
piness, which, being once violated, the only
plank that can save us after our shipwreck,
is remission and repentance ; which two
things, the whole Scripture assures us, that
the Divine wisdom has so connected, as with
an adamantine band. And this psalm now
before us is a signal declaration of it, which,
since it inculcates so grand a topic of religion,
rupiav čášav, may well be styled as it is, Mas-
chil, a lesson of instruction. For, as St. Au-
gustine well observes, “That is instruction
indeed, which teaches us that man is not
saved by the merits of his works, but by the
grace of God.”
Blessed.] Or, O blessed man, or, Oh, the
felicities of that man —to denote the most
supreme and perfect blessedness.f He only
has attained to complete felicity, whose nu-
merous debts are all remitted, though, far
from being able to pay them, he could not so
much as reckon them up. And blessed is he
that knows it, as the proverb is, “No man is
happy but he who thinks himself so.”f
The man, whose iniquity is forgiven.] As
the word is nesevi, it might be rendered,
Blessed is the man who is eased of the heavy
burden of his sin. A burden, indeed, too
heavy for thestrongest man upon earth; a bur-
den so dreadfully great, that God's angels are
not able to stand under it; for many of the
chief of them were pressed down to hell by
it, and can rise no more. But though no gi-
ant on earth or in heaven could bear it, a
LAMB subjected himself to it. But it was a
* Quă intelligitur non meritis operum, sed Dei gra-
tiã hominem liberari.
f As the Elephant, to denote its vast bulk, is spo-
ken of in the plural number, Behemoth.
f Non est beatus qui se non putat.
366
[WER. 2.
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM XXXII.
Lamb without blemish and without spot, bur-
dened with no load of his own sin, nor stain-
ed with the least spot of pollution. The
Lamb of God, the Son of God, who is him-
self God, is he, 6 aipov rmv ëuapriav roi, kóopod,
who takes away all the sins of the world, as
one sin: taking the burden upon himself, he
bears it and carries it away.
Covered.] That sinners may more clearly
apprehend, and more easily and firmly be-
lieve a thing which seems so difficult to ad-
mit, as the free and full remission of sin, it is
painted out by various beautiful expressions
and figures in the sacred Scriptures ; washing,
cleansing, blotting out, scattering like a cloud,
entirely forgetting, casting into the bottom of
the sea, and here, by that of taking away and
covering, and by that phrase which explains
both, of not imputing them. And this ex-
pression of covering them, is with great pro-
priety added to the former phrase of lighten-
ing the sinner of the burden of them, that
there may be no fear of their returning again,
or coming into sight, since God has not only
taken the heavy load from our shoulders, but
for ever hidden it from his own eyes, and the
veil of mercy has taken it away; that great
covering of Divine love, which is large
enough to overspread so many and so great
offences. Thus it does, as it were, turn away
the penetrating eye of his justice, which the
most secret inquiry could not elude, did not
he himself in pity voluntarily avert it.
But you well know what is our propitiato-
ry, what the covering of the mercy-seat, even
Jesus, who was typified by that Caporeth in
the Temple, which the Septuagint render
{\agriptov Štíðspa, a propitiatory covering : by
which title our great Redeemer is marked
out, Rom. iii. 25, as the same Hebrew word,
Caphar, signifies both to cover and to earpi-
ate.* But that the thing may be more evi-
dent and certain, the thought is repeated
again in the second verse.
VER. 2. Blessed is the man to whom the Lord impu-
teth not iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no
guile.
ABEN-EzRA paraphrases it, Of whose sins
God does not think, does not regard them, so
as to bring them into judgment, reckoning
them as if they were not ; of pi Aoyugerat, does
not count or calculate them, or charge them
to account : does not require for them the
debt of punishment. To us the remission is
entirely free, our Sponser having taken upon
him the whole business of paying the ran-
som. His suffering is our impunity, his bond
our freedom, and his chastisement our peace;
and therefore the prophet says, The chastise-
ment of our peace was upon him, and by his
* It is observed, the Hebrew word Eschol haccopher,
which some render a cluster of camphire, Cant. i. 14,
may, with a little variation in the reading (i.e. read.
ing it Ish col haccapher), be rendered a man of all
kinds of redemption, or of all expiation. So the Tar-
gum interprets it by expiation. And by the way,
some assert that this psalm used to be sung on the
day of expiation.
stripes we are healed. Distracted creatures
that we are, to indulge in those sins which
brought death upon our dear Redeemer, and
to be so cold in our affections to that Re-
deemer who died for those sins !
This weighty sentence, of itself so admir-
able, Paul renders yet more illustrious, by in
serting it into his reasonings on the topic of
justification, Rom. iv. 6, as a celebrated tes-
timony of that great article of our faith.
“ David,” says he, “thus describeth the bles-
Sedness of that man, saying, Blessed is he
whose iniquities are forgiven.” So that this
is David's opinion concerning true happiness:
he says not, Blessed are those who rule over
kingdoms, blessed are those generals who
are renowned for their martial bravery and
success, though he himself had both these ti-
tles to boast of. It is not the encomiums
of the greatest multitudes, nor the breath
of popular applause, nor any other degree of
human honor, which entitles a man to this
character. It is not said, Blessed is he who
ploughs many thousand acres of land, or who
has heaped together mountains of gold and
silver : nor, Blessed is he who has married
a beautiful and rich woman, or (which in his
age, or even now in those eastern countries,
might be the case), he who was possessed
of many such ; nor, Blessed is he who under-
stands the secrets of nature, or even the mys-
teries of religion ; but, Oh, happy man whose
sins are pardoned, and to whom the Lord
does not impute iniquity, and in whose spirit
there is no guile, whose breast is full, not of
feigned repentance, but of a fervent love of
holiness, and hatred of sin. This makes life
happy, nay, absolutely blessed. But, alas !
when we inculcate these things, we sing to
the deaf. The ignorance and folly of man-
kind will not cease to pronounce the proud
and the covetous happy, and those who tri-
umph in successful wickedness, and who, in
chase of these lying shadows of happiness,
destroy their days, and their years, and their
Souls.
“Alas,” says the wise Roman, “how lit-
tle do some who thirst most impatiently after
glory, know what it is, or where it is to be
sought !” which is equally applicable to that
true calm and serenity of mind which indeed
all pursue, but yet few are able to attain.
But as for us who enjoy the celestial instruc-
tion of this sacred volume, if we are ignorant
of it, our ignorance is quite inexcusable, ob-
stinate, and affected, since we are wilfully
blind in the clearest and most refulgent light.
This points out that good which can com-
pletely fill all the most extended capacities
of the human soul, and which we generally
seek for in vain on all sides, catching at it
where it is not to be found, but ever neglect-
ing it where alone it is. ... But is it then pos-
sible at once to be solidly and completely
happy? You have not merely the ideas of it,
* Quam ignorant homines gloriae cupidi, quae ea
sit, aut quemadmodum petenda.-SENEcA.
VER. 2.]
367
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM XXXII.
but the thing itself, not only clearly pointed
out, but most freely offered, with divine mu-
nificence ; so that if you do not obstimately
reject the offer, it must be your own. , And
this happiness consists in returning to the fa-
vor and friendship of God, who most merci-
fully grants us the free pardon of all our sins,
if we do, with unfeigned repentance and a
heart free of all guile, not only humbly con-
fess and lament them, but entirely forsake,
and with implacable hatred for ever renounce
them, à párap cióáºpov rekai 6A8tos. All the
names, all the variety of felicities, bliss, and
happiness, are accumulated on that man who
has known this change of the right hand of
the Most High,” on whom this bright day of
expiation and pardon has beamed. He easily
looks down from on high on all the empty
titles and false images of earthly happiness,
and when he is bereaved of them all, yea,
and beset on every side with what the world
calls misfortunes and afflictions, ceases not to
be happy. In sorrow he is joyful, in poverty
rich, and in chains free: when he seems bur-
ied deep, so that not one ray of the sun can
reach him, he is surrounded with radiant lus-
tre; when overwhelmed with ignominy, he
glories; and in death itself, he lives, he con-
quers, he triumphs. What can be heavy to
that man who is eased of the intolerable bur-
den of sin 3 How animated was that saying
of Luther, “Smite, Lord, smite, for thou hast
absolved me from my sins.”f Whose anger
should he fear who knows that God is pro-
pitious to him, that Supreme King, whose
wrath is indeed the messenger of death, but
the light of his countenance is life ; who
gladdens by the rays of his favor, and by one
smile disperses the darkest cloud, and calms
the most turbulent tempest ?
But we must now observe the complication
of a two-fold, in constituting this felicity: ſor
we have two things here connected, as con-
spiring to make the person spoken of blessed ;
the free remission of sin, and the inward pu-
rification of the heart. In whose spirit there
is no guile. This simplicity, dºrms, is a
most excellent part of purity, opposed to all
wickedness and arts of deceit ; and in com-
mon speech, that which is simple and has no
foreign mixture, is called pure. Pardon pre-
Sents us as just and innocent before our
Judge; and that sanctity is not to be regard-
ed as constituting any part of our justifying
righteousness before God, nor as only the con-
dition or sign of our felicity, but is truly and
properly a part of it. Purity is the accom-
plishment of our felicity, begun on earth,
and to be consummated in heaven; that pu-
rity, I say, which is begun here, and shall
there be consummated. But if any one think
he can divide these two things, which the
hand of God has joined by so inseparable a
* Alluding to Psalm lxxvii. I0, where the Vulgate
renders Seuih, change, mutatio dextra Excelsi ; and
several other Versions nearly agree with it.
f Feri, Domine, feri; nam a peccatis absolvistime.
bond, it is a vain dream. Nay, by attempt-
ing to separate these two parts of happiness,
he will in fact only exclude himself from the
whole. Jesus, our victorious Savior, has
snatched us from the jaws of eternal death;
but, to be delivered from the cruel tyanny
and bonds of sin and to be brought into the
blessed liberty of the sons of God, was an-
other essential part of our redemption, and
if any one does not embrace this with equal
alacrity and delight as the other benefit, he
is a wretched slave of the most mean and ig-
noble spirit, and being equally unworthy of
both parts of this stupendous deliverance, he
will Justly forfeit and lose both. And this is
the epidemical Antinominianism of the Chris-
tian world, because they who labor under it
have nothing but the name of Christians:
they gladly hear of the pardon of their sins,
and the salvation of their souls, while they
are averse to the doctrine of holiness and re-
pentance. It is a disagreeable message, a
hard saying, and who can bear it ! But oh,
the incomparable charms of holiness! It is
to be desired, not only for the sake of other
benefits which come in its train, but espe-
cially for itself: so that he who is not trans-
ported with a most ardent love of it, is blind,
and deserves to be thrust into the mill, to
tread that uncomfortable round, and to grind
there; deserves to be a slave for ever, since
he knows not how to use liberty when offer-
ed to him. Shall the Stoic say, “The ser-
vant of philosophy is truly free,” and shall
we scruple to assert the same concerning
pure religion, and evangelical holiness 3 Now
this freedom from guile, this fair simplicity,
of which the psalmist speaks, is deservedly
reckoned among the chief endowments of a
pure soul, and is here named instead of all
the rest, as nothing is more like to that God
who inspects the very heart, in nothing do
we so much resemble him; and therefore, it
is most agreeable to him, because most like
unto him. He is the most simple of all be-
ings, and is indeed truth itself, and there-
fore, He desires truth in the inward parts,
and hates a heart and a heart, as the Hebrew
phrase is to express those that are double-
hearted. And how much our blessed Re-
deemer esteems this simplicity, we may learn
from the earnestness with which he incul-
cates it upon his disciples, that they should
be simple as doves. Matt. x., 16. We may
learn it also from the honorable testimony he
bears to this character in Nathanael, when
he pronounces him, John i. 47, an Israelite
indeed, in whom there is no guile. And es-
pecially from his own perfect example, as it
is said of him, 1 Peter ii. 22, He did no sin,
neither was guile found in his mouth...Per-
haps the psalmist might the more willingly
mention this virtue, as he reflected with pen-
itential distress on this crafty and cruel at-
tempt of covering that adultery which he
had committed, with the veil of murder. But
* Qui philosophiae inservit, est veré liber.
368
[WER. 5.
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM XXXII.
nowever that was, it is certain that this
guileless sincerity of heart holds the first
rank in the graces that attend true repent-
ance. It may be sometimes our duty to open
our sins to men, by an ingenuous confession ;
but it is always our duty to do it to God, who
promises to cover them only on this condi-
tion, that we do sincerely uncover them our-
selves. But if we affect that which is his
part, he will, to our unspeakable damage, do
that which he had assigned to us. If we
hide them, he will bring them into open
light, and will discuss and examine each with
the greater severity: “He,” says Ambrose,
“who burdens himself, makes his error so
much the lighter.” “In proportion to the
degree,” says Tertullian,f “in which you
are unwilling to spare yourself, God will
spare you.” But what madness is it to at-
tempt to conceal any action from him, from
whom, as Thales wisely declares, “you can
not so much as conceal a thought 2’t But
not now to insist upon the impossibility of a
concealment, a wise man would not wish to
cover his wounds and his disease from that
physician, from whose skilful hand he might
otherwise receive healing ; and this is what
the psalmist presently after, for our instruc-
tion, confesses.
VER. 3. When I kept silence, my bones waxed old,
through my roaring all the day long.
WHILE he suppressed the ingenuous voice
of confession, the continually increasing
weight of his calamity extorted from him a
voice of roaring ; “While I would not speak
as it became a guilty man, I was compelled
even to bellow like a beast.”|| Nevertheless,
this wild roaring did not move the divine
compassion, nor atone his displeasure.
VER. 4. For day and night thine hand was heavy up-
on me : my moisture is turned into the drought of
Summer.
HITHERTO that voice was wanting, to which
the bowels of the Father always echo back,
the voice of a son full of reverence, and
ready to confess his errors; without which,
cries and lamentations in misery are no more
regarded in the sight of God, than the howl-
ing of dogs, according to that expression of
Hosea, vii. 14, They have not cried to me with
their heart, when they howled upon their beds.
A dog howls when he is hungry, or when he
is lashed; but from a son, when he is chast-
ened, acknowledgments of his fault, and de-
precations of his father's displeasure, are ex-
pected; and when the son thus acknowl-
edges his offence, and entreats for pardon, it
is the part of a compassionate father to for-
give, and to spare. Nor do we indeed con-
fess our offences to our Father, as if he were
* Allevat errores ille qui se onerat.
f Quantum tibi non peperceris, tantum tibi parcet
Deus.
f ‘Ov of Xav6áveis otöe Suavoſpevos.
| Dum nolui loquiut hominem reum decet, mugire
coactus sum ut brutum.
not perfectly acquainted with them, but we
fly to him who requires we should repent,
that he may not show us by punishment,
those things which we shun showing to him
by confession. “I confessed unto the Lord,”
says Augustine, “to whom all the abyss of
my sin and misery lay open : so that if I did
not confess whatever was hidden in my heart,
I should not hide myself from him, but him
from me.”*
Thy hand was heavy upon me.] That hand,
which, when pressing, is so heavy, when
raising, is so sweet and powerful, Psalm
XXXvii. 24, and when scattering its blessings,
so full and so ample. Psalm civ. 28; cziv.
16. He would not at first be humbled by the
confession of his iniquity, and therefore he is
humbled by the weight of the hand of God.
Oh, powerful hand beyond all comparison
more grievous than any other hand to press
down, and more powerful to raise up ! He
tº: suppresses his sins without confessing
them,
Vulnus alit venis, et caſco carpitur igne :
“Conceals an inward wound, and burns with secret
fire.”
Under the appearance of sparing, he is indeed
cruel to himself; when he has drunk down
iniquity, and keeps it within, and it is not
covered by the Divine forgiveness, it is like
a poison which consumes the marrow in the
midst of his bones, and dries up the vital
moisture. It may perhaps occasion more
present pain, to draw out the point of the
Weapon which sticks in the flesh ; but to
neglect it, will occasion greater danger and
more future torment. Nor will the dart fall
out by his running hither and thither, but on
the contrary, as the poet expresses it with
respect to the wounded deer, it fixes deeper
and deeper.”
But the only healing herb that the sinner
can find, is true repentance and humble con-
fession; not that which acknowledges sin in
a few slight words, when it has hardly looked
upon it and known it, but that which pro-
ceeds from a previous true and vivid com-
punction of soul, and is inseparably attended
by renovation and purity of heart and life;
and so, as comprehending this, it is some.
times put for the whole of repentance. 1 John
i. 9. If we confess our sins, he is faithful
and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse
2/S #. all unrighteousness. And so in the
Psalm before us.
VER. 5. I acknowledged my sin unto Thee, and my
iniquity have I not hid. I said, I will confess m
transgressions unto the Lord, and thou forgavest
the iniquity of my sin. Selah.
TRUE and genuine repentance hath eyes,
as it were, on both sides, mpogo kai driaa, 63%ret:
it looks back on sins already committed, to
* Et tibi, Domine, cujus oculis nuda abyssus, quid
occultum esset in me si non confiterer, non me tibi
absconderem, sed te mihi.
Illa fugā sylvas saltusque peragrat
Dyctaeos, haeret laeteri lethalis arundo.
WER 6.]
360
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM XXXII
ament them : it looks forward, and humbly
resolves no more to commit what it has la-
mented. And each of these is expressed by
each of the words by which repentance is
signified, herapexeia and peravota; which words
are therefore used promiscuously, both by the
sacred writers and by others, so that the re-
ceived difference between them seems to me
to have little foundation. For Phavorinus in-
terprets the word peravoia, an anguish of soul
under the consciousness of having acted a
foolish and absurd part ; and the Latin has
the same signification, if we will admit the
judgment of Gellius, who seems to have been
a very accurate critic in affairs of that na-
ture. He observes, “We are said to repent
of things, whether our own actions, or those
of others which have been performed by our
advice or instigation, which do afterward
displease us, so that we change our judgment
concerning them.” But we will wave all
further concern about words; the thing itself
demands our greatest attention. I entirely
agree with him who said, “I had rather feel
the inward working of repentance, than know
the most accurate description and definition
of it.”f Yet how averse sinners are to this
free though useful and salutary confession of
sin, abundantly appears from this example of
so great a man as the psalmist, when taken
in this unhappy snare ; for he confesses that
he lay long as senseless and stupid in that
quagmire into which he was fallen, and that
it was with difficulty that he was as it were
racked into a confession, by such exquisite
tortures both of body and mind. On the other
hand, the gracious readiness of the Father of
mercies to grant pardon, is so much the more
evident, as on the first word of confession
that he uttered, or rather the first purpose
that he formed in his mind, immediately the
pardon, the full and free pardon, came down
signed, as in the court of heaven. I said,
I will confess, and thou forgavest. ... O ad-
mirable clemency . It requires nothing but
that the offender should plead guilty, and this
not that it may more freely punish, but more
liberally forgive. He requires that we should
condemn Ourselves, that so he may absolve
UlS.
VER. 6. For this shall every one that is godly pray
unto thee, in a time when thou mayest be found :
surely, in the floods of great waters, they shall not
come nigh unto him.
THIS is the joyful message, this is the
great doctrine of the gospel, which opens the
first door of hope to sinners; that God is ca-
pable of being appeased,yea, that he is actu-
ally appeased ; that he freely offers peace
and favor to those who have deserted him
when they return to his obedience; that he
* Poenitere tum dicere solemus, chm quae ipsi feci-
mus, aut quae de nostra voluntate nostroque consilio
facta sunt, ea nobis post incipiunt displicere, senten-
tiamgue in is nostram demutamus.
f Malo sentire compunctionem, qilam scire ejus defi-
nitionem. Thom. & Kempis, l. i., c.1.
runs forth to meet them and to receive them
with a most affectionate embrace; and hav-
ing so importunely entreated our return, will
not despise those who are treading back with
prayers and tears the fatal path which their
folly had chosen. This is what we so fre-
quently read in Scripture, that the Lord is
gracious and very merciful, slow to anger,
and ready to pardon. If he were not such,
who could dare approach him ? But seeing
he is such a God, who should refuse or delay
his return ? Surely, every rational and pious
mind will, without delay, invoke so gentle
and mild a Lord ; will pray to him while he is
eacorable, or, as the Hebrew expresses it, in a
time of finding. For he who promises par-
don, does not promise to-morrow. There are
the tempora fandi, certain times in which he
may be spoken with, and a certain appointed
day of pardon and of grace, which if a man
by stupid perverseness despise, or by sloth
neglect, surely he is justly overwhelmed with
eternal night and misery, and must necessa-
rily perish by the deluge of Divine wrath ;
since he has contemned and derided that Ark
of salvation which was prepared, and in
which whoever enters into it shall be safe,
while the world is perishing. Though all be
One unbounded sea, a sea without shore, yet,
as it is here said, the greatest inundation, the
floods of deep waters shall not come nigh
unto him. This, the psalmist exhorts those
that have experienced it, to teach, and deter-
mines himself so to retain it with deep atten-
tion and firm faith in his own mind, as in the
following verse.
Ver. T. Thou art my hiding place.] Thou
hast been, and wilt ever be so. Thou hast
surrounded, and thou wilt surround me, with
songs of deliverance; even me who was so
surrounded with clamors of sin. Where he
further intimates, that songs of praise are
perpetually to be offered to God our deliverer.
And that these faithful admonitions and coun-
sels may meet with greater attention and re-
gard, he offers himself to us as a most benev-
olent teacher and leader.
Wer. 8, 9, 10, 11. I will instruct thee, and
teach thee in the way in which thou shalt go,
&c.] See to it only, that thou be tractable,
and dost not with brutal obstimacy and fierce-
ness repel this friendly and wise counsel, as
capable of being governed only by violence,
like a mule or unbroken horse, which must
be held in by bit and bridle. Such indeed
are the greatest part of men, whom the phi-
losophers with great severity, but with too
much justice, called 6ovyevi ävägónpopa, “Wild
bulls with human faces.” º
But it is added, as the sum of all admoni-
tion, and the great axiom most worthy of re-
gard, that Many sorrows shall be to the wick-
ed [the Septuagint render it many are the
scourges of the sinner”], but mercy shall em-
brace those that hope in the Lord. , And the
Psalm concludes with this as the burden of
*IIoMXai paartyss inaproxoi.
47
370
[WER. 1.
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM CXXX.
it, Rejoice in the Lord, ye righteous, and
shout for joy, all ye that are upright in heart.
Truly, my dear friends,” I have nothing
further to wish for myself or you, than that
we may heartily believe these things; for
then it would be impossible that we should
not with open arms embrace true religion,
and clasp it to our hearts, since nature teach-
es every one to desire happiness, and to flee
from misery. So that Epicurus himself would
teach us to lay hold on joy and pleasure, as
the ró rpárov dukeſov, or first and proper good.
This, therefore, let us lay down as a certain
principle, and ever adhere to it, that we may
not, like brute beasts, remain in subjection
to the flesh ; that safety, and joy and all hap-
piness are the property of him who is pos-
sessed of virtue, and that all virtue is com-
prehended in true piety. And let us remem-
ber what the prophet adds (according to the
Greek translatorsi), as the necessary conse-
quence of this principle, that to the wicked
there can be no joy.
MEDITATIONS ON PSALMI CXXX.
WER. 1. Out of the depths have I cried unto thee,
Lord.
IT is undoubtedly both a useful and a
pleasant employment, to observe the emotions
of great and heroic minds in great and ardu-
ous affairs: but that mind only is truly great,
and superior to the whole world, which does
in the most placid manner subject itself to
God, securely casting all its burdens and cares
upon him, in all the uncertain alterations of
human affairs, looking at his hand, and fixing
its regards upon that alone. Such the royal
prophet David declares himself everywhere
to have been, and nowhere more evidently
than in this Psalm, which seems to have
been composed by him. He lifts up his head
amid surrounding waves, and directing his
face and his voice to Heaven, he says, Out
of the depths, O Lord, do I cry unto thee.
For so I would render it, as he does not seem
to express a past fact, but as the Hebrew
idiom imports, a prayer which he was now
actually presenting.
Out of the ...] Being as it were im-
mersed and overwhelmed in an abyss of mis-
ery and calamities. It is indeed the native
lot of man, to be born to trouble, as it is for
the sparks (the children of the coal, as the
Original expression signifies) to fly upward.
Life and grief are congenial'; but mén who
are born again, seem, as in a redoubled pro-
portion, to be twice born to trouble ; with so
* The word Juvenes, or my dear !youths, occurs here
and in several other places, as these lectures were
delivered to a society of young theological students;
but it did not seem necessary to make the translation
so exactly literal.
f'Ovk Šari xat pew rois do £3sat.
f'SOs àpa ovyyevils ori Ağrn kai 316s.
many and so great evils are they as it were
laden, beyond all other men, and that to such
a degree, that they may seem sometimes to
be oppressed with them. And if any think
this is strange, surely as the apostle expres-
ses it, he can not see afar off, pooráčet; at best,
he only looks at the surfaces of things, and
can not penetrate far into those depths. For
even the philosophers themselves, untaught
by Divine revelation, investigated admirable
reasons for such dispensations of Providence,
and undertook in this respect boldly to plead
the cause of God. “God,” says the Roman
sage, “loves his own people truly, but he
loves them severely . As the manner in
which fathers express their love to their
children is generally very different from that
of mothers; they order them to be called up
early to their studies and suffer them not to
be idle in those days, when their usual business
is interrupted, but sometimes put them on la-
boring till the sweat flows down, and some-
times by their discipline excite their tears:
while the mother fondles them in her bosom,
keeps them in the shade, and knows not how
to consent, that they should weep, or grieve,
or labor. God bears the heart of a father to
good men, and there is strength rather than
tenderness in his love ; they are therefore
exercised with labors, sorrows, and losses,
that they may grow robust; whereas, were
they to be fattened by luxurious fare and in-
dulged in indolence, they would not only
sink under fatigues, but be burdened with their
own unwieldy bulk.” Presently after, he
quotes a remarkable saying of Demetrius the
Cynic,f to this purpose, “He seems to be the
unhappiest of mankind, who has never been
exercised with adversity, as he can not have
had an opportunity of trying the strength of
his mind.” To wish to pass life without it,
is to be ignorant of one part of nature, so that
I may pronounce thee to be miserable, if thou
hast never been miserable. If thou hast
passed through life without ever struggling
with an enemy, no one, not even thou thy-
self, can know whether thou art able to make
any resistance: whereas in afflictions, we ex-
perience not so much what our own strength
is, as what is the strength of God in us, and
what the aid of divine grace is, which often
bears us up under them to a surprising degree,
and makes us joyful by a happy exit; so that
we shall be able to say, My God, my strength,
and my deliverer. Thus the church becomes
* Verè suos amat et severé Deus. Multo aliter pa-
tres, aliter matres indulgent: illi liberos ad studia
obeunda maturé excitari jubent, feriatis quoque die-
bus non patiuntur otiosos, et sape sudorem illis, et
interdum lachrymas excutiunt: at matres fovere in
sinu, in umbra, continere volunt; nunquam flere, nun-
quam tristari, nunquam laborare. Patrium habet
Deus adversus bonos viros animum, et illos fortiàs,
amat; et operibus, doloribus, ac damnis exagitantur,
ut verum colligant robur. Languent per inertiam
saginata : nec labore tantiim, sed et mole, et ipso sui
onere deficiunt.—SENECA.
f Nihil mihi videtur infelicius eo, cui nihil unquam
evenerit adversi; non licuit illi se experiri.
WER. 1.]
371
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM CXXX.
conspicuous in the midst of the flames, like
the burning bush, through the good-will of
Him that dwelt in it. And when it seems
to be overwhelmed with waters, God brings
it out of them cleansed and beautified—mer-
gas profundo, pulchrior exilit; he plunges it
in the deep, and it rises fairer than before.
We will not here maintain that paradox of
the stoics, that Evils which happen to good
men, are not to be called evils at all ; which,
however, is capable of a very good sense,
since religion teaches us that the greatest
evils are changed, and work together for
good, which comes about to the same thing,
and perhaps was the true meaning of the
stoics. Banishment and poverty are indeed
evils in one sense, that is, they have some-
thing hard and grievous in them ; but when
they fall on a good and brave man, they seem
to lay aside the malignity of their nature, and
become tame and gentle. The very sharp-
ness of them excites and exercises virtue: by
exciting, they increase it, so that the root of
faith shoots the stronger, and fixes the deep-
er, and thereby adds new strength to forti-
tude and patience. And, as we see in this
example before us, affliction does by a happy
kind of necessity drive the soul to confess its
sin, to flee as it were to seek its refuge under
the wing of the Divine goodness, and to fix
its hope upon God. And this is certainly one
great advantage which the pious soul gains
by adversity, that it calls away the affections
from earth and earthly things, or rather tears
them away, when obstinately adhering to
them. “It is necessary that they suffer such
hardships as these,” as one expresses it,”
“lest they should love this inconvenient sta-
ble, in which they now are obliged to lodge,
as if it were their own house !” It is neces-
sary that they should perceive that they are
strangers and foreigners upon earth, that
they may more frequently, and with more ar-
dent desire, groan after that better country,
and often repeat it, ołkos píAos, oikos dotoros, Dear
home ! most desirable home ! The children
and heirs of the kingdom must be weaned by
wormwood, lest they should be so enchanted
by the allurements of the flesh, and the poi-
sonous sweetness of secular enjoyments, as to
barter away the true and pure joy of their
blessed hope, for this false, polluted, and dead-
ly joy ; and lest, dissolved in pleasure, the
heaven-born soul should be broken under the
yoke of this pernicious flesh, the root of so
many passions.f Lastly, we see how much
vigor and vehemence affliction adds to prayer;
for the divine psalmist, the deeper he sinks,
cries to God in so much the louder accents—
Out of the depths have I cried.
This prayer contains those precious virtues
which, in a grateful temperature, render ev-
ery prayer acceptable to God—faith, fervor,
and humility. Faith, in that he prays out of
* Expedit omnino ut hic dura experiantur, ne stab-
ulum ament pro domo sua.
f Pap; 63.6n, traffeoy piga troAvoxidéov.
the deeps ; fervor, in that he cries, and both
again expressed in the next word ; faith, as
in the midst of surrounding calamities he does
not despair of redress; fervor, as he urges it
with repeated importunity, and the same
word uttered again and again. And to com-
plete all, humility expresses itself in what
follows, where he speaks as one that felt him-
self sinking, as one who was plunged in a sea
of iniquities, as well as calamities; and ac-
knowledges he was so overwhelmed with
them, as to be unable to stand, unless Sup-
ported by pure mercy and grace. If thou,
Lord, shouldst mark iniquities, who shall
stand 2 Thus, here again, faith manifests it-
self more clearly, together with its kindred
affections of hope and charity, which, like
three graces, join their hands, and by an in-
separable union support each other. You
have faith in the fourth verse, There is for-
giveness with thee ; hope in the fifth, I wait
for the Lord, my soul doth wait, and in his
word do I hope ; charity in the seventh and
eighth, where he does in a most benevolent
manner invite all Israel to a communion of
the same faith and hope, and, in order to con-
firm them more abundantly, does in a most
animated manner proclaim the riches of the
Divine benignity. Such is the composition
of this excellent prayer, which thus compound-
ed, like a pillar of aromatic smoke from myrrh,
frankincense, and every other most fragrant
perfume, ascends grateful to the throne of
God. And this you may take instead of the
analysis of the remaining verses, which to
handle by a more minute dissection of words,
and to clothe in the trite phrases of the schools,
to speak freely, would be as barren and use:
less as it is easy and puerile. And indeed I
can not but form the same judgment of the
common way of catching at a multitude of
observations from any scripture, and of pres-
sing it with violence, as if remarks were to be
estimated by number rather than weight, pro-
priety, and use. But here let every one follow
his own genius and taste ; for we are willing
to give the liberty we take. Veniam damus
petimusque vicissim.
Out of the #". Oh, the immortal pow-
er of Divine faith, which lives and breathes in
the midst of the waves, in which it may be
plunged, but can not be sunk under any of the
hugest billows: but raises itself, and the soul
in which it resides, and emerges and swims
above all, pºds &s d8árrioros (like cork which
will still be above water), having this in com-
mon with that Divine love of which Solomon
speaks in his Song, that many waters can not
quench it. Whatever great things the stoics
may speak of their wise men, and whatever
all philosophy may say of fortitude, it is
Divine faith that truly and heartily performs
all, by which the good man, though stripped
of every help and comfort, wraps himself up,
as it were, not in his own virtue and strength,
but in that of God; and hence it is that he
can not be conquered by any tyranny, by any
372
ÍVER. 1.
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM CXXX.
threatenings, by any calamities of life, by any
fear of death, for he leans upon Omnipotence.
The Lord, says he, is my light and my salva-
tion ; whom shall I fear 2 The Lord is the
strength of my life : of whom shall I be afraid?
Let war arise, let the enemy measure out his
tents against me, l, says Faith, am secure
under the shadow of the Most High, and em-
bracing him, I will fear nothing.
You have here the psalmist crying with
confidence out of the deeps. Behold also the
prophet Jonah indeed, and, as we say, liter-
ally, in the deeps, and in circumstances which
might have greater efficacy to shake his faith
than the sea itself, than the bowels of the
fish, or any other depth into which he might
be cast, as he was not entirely free from
blame, but had the intermingling guilt of his
own perverseness; yet, among all these dis-
couragements, his faith is not swallowed up :
I have cried unto thee in my distress, and
from the very belly of hell. Thou hast cast
me into the deep, and all thy waves were go-
ing over me, so that I might truly say, I am
cast out from thy sight : yet at the same time
I said, I will look again toward the temple of
thy holiness. I went down to the root and
cavern of the mountains; the abyss surround-
ed me ; yet when my soul was thus over-
whelmed within me, I remembered the Lord.
You have, among others, an excellent exam-
ple of faith in David, 1 Sam. xxx., when the
invading enemy had burnt Ziklag, and carried
the women captive, and the people, in the
madness of their rage and grief, speak of
stoning David himself; yet, besieged with all
these miseries, he strengthens himself in the
Lord his God. Nor can anything have great-
er depth and strength than that expression of
Job, Though he slay me, yet will I trust in
him : not only when fainting and dying, but
while expiring, as it were, of the wound
which I had received from the hand of God
himself, yet will I hope for life and salvation
from that very hand which has given me
death, and in the jaws of death would send
out this last word with the last breath, and
with my departing soul, Destroy not, O Lord,
One that trusteth in thee.
Nor is this confidence of a pious soul, an
opinion fluctuating among the waves, or a
light conjecture that it shall raise its head
above them, but a certain, firm, and infallible
assurance. That is a vulgar and weak word
of comfort, “To-morrow may be better than
to-day.” But the language of Divine faith
is stronger and firmer, even when deep calls
unto , deep, and most certainly determines
that it will not be in vain; and therefore, in
the forty-second Psalm, not dubious and trem-
bling, but with a steady voice, he silences all
the noisy tumults of an agitated mind, and
says, Repose thyself on God, for I shall still
praise him, or, as it may be rendered, I am
going to praise him : g. d. Amid all those
tempests which rage about me, I am thinking
* Tax' aiptov toger' àpewoy.
of that hymn of praise which I shall pay to
him for my deliverance, and for the happy
exit out of all my sorrows. Though at pres-
ent we have nothing in sight but darkness,
and whirlwinds, and rocks, and the raging,
foaming sea, let the skill and power of the
Great Pilot be opposed to all these. And
what the psalmist says elsewhere of sailors,
may evidently be applied to those who go
down into the sea ; they gain this by their
dangers, that they see the works of this Great
Pilot in the abyss, and contemplate his won-
ders in the deep. And he who gives himself
up to his care, and fixes his eye and hope
wholly on him, though he be, or rather seem
to be, shipwrecked, and lose all his goods,
yet, if he does not make shipwreck of faith,
he loses nothing that is properly his own.
Nay, when he is swallowed up in the abyss of
death, he does not perish, but swims through
it to the further shore of eternity, where he
finds a banquet, a palace prepared for him,
and a kingdom that can not be moved, but re-
mains to endless ages.
I cried.] Prayer is the natural and genu-
ine voice of the children of God ; and as the
Latin word oratio properly signifies articulate
speech, as it distinguishes man from other
animals, so, in this other signification, it ex-
presses that by which the godly are distin-
guished from the rest of mankind: it is the
proper idiom of the citizens of heaven. Oth-
ers may recite some words of prayer, but
they do not pray : as parrots and other birds,
by the industry of their teacher, may learn to
imitate human voices, yet they do not speak;
there is something wanting in all their most
skilful chattering, which is the very thing
that is also wanting in the language of most
that are said to pray, and that is, mind and,
meaning, affections correspondent to the
words, or rather, to which the words may
conform as to their original cause, and of
which they may be the true index and sign.
The spirit of this world knows not how to
pray, nor does a spirit of adoption and liberty
know how to forbear praying—the spirit of
adoption, says the apostle, by which we cry
Abba, Father. Nor can they who are new-
born by that Spirit, live without frequent
prayer. Prayer is to them, as the natural
and necessary respiration of that new and Di-
vine life, as Lam. iii. 56, Turn not away from
my breathing : the Hebrew word there made
use of, leruhethi, properly signifies the vital
respiration of animals. Yet, notwithstanding
all this, what we said above is true, and evi-
dently appears from the passage before us, that
affliction often adds vigor to prayers, how live-
ly and assiduous soever they may have been
before. Let it be so, that prayer is the natu-
ral language of believing souls, by which
they daily address their heayenly Father, yet,
when they are pressed with an uncommon
pain or danger, it is no less natural that this
voice should be louder than ordinary, and
should be raised into a cry. It is indeed the
WER. 2.]
373
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM CXXX.
breath of faith and heavenly affections, and
when they are vehemently pressed by any
burden, and almost expiring under it, they
breathe quicker than before, and with great-
er effort.- Thus, they who have been used to
the greatest heights of daily devotion, yet, in
surrounding calamities, pray more fervently
and more frequently than ordinary. And this
is to be numbered among the chief benefits
attending afflictions and it would surely be
well worth our while to experience all the
hardest pressures of them, if we may gain
this; that the languor, and sloth, and stupidi-
ty, into which our minds and our souls are
ready insensibly to sink while all is calm and
serene about us, may be happily shaken off
by something which the world may call
an unhappy event; that some more violent
gust of wind may fan the sacred flame that
seems almost extinguished, and blow it up
into greater ardor. It will be happy for us,
that, with the psalmist, we should sometimes
sink in deep waters, that so we, who in pros-
perity do but whisper or mutter out our pray-
ers, may from the depths cry aloud unto God.
Oh, how frequently and how ardently did
David pray in the deserts and the caves, and
it is he who here cries out of the deep, and
perhaps these deep recesses are those from
which he was now crying ; but when secure
amid the ease and delights of the court, and
walking at leisure on his house-top, he was
tempted by his own wandering eyes, and hav-
ing intermitted the fervor of prayer, burned
with impure fires. Our vows are cruel to our-
selves, if they demand nothing but gentle
Zephyrs, and flowery fields, and calm repose,
as the lot of our life ; for these pleasant things
often prove the most dangerous enemies to
our nobler and dearer life.
Oh how true is that saying, that “faith is
safe when in danger, and in danger when
secure ; and prayer is fervent in straits, but
in joyful and prosperous circumstances, if not
quite cold and dead, at least lukewarm.” Oh,
happy straits, if they hinder the mind from
flowing forth upon earthly objects, and ming-
ling itself with the mire; if they favor our
correspondence with heaven, and quicken our
love to celestial objects, without which, what
we call life, may more properly deserve the
name of death !
VER. 2. Lord, hear my voice ; let thine ears be at-
tentive to the voice of my supplications.
WE see that he was not only in earnest,
which comparatively few that pray are, but
that his desires were vehement, and kindled
into a flame, which is the case of yet fewer.
The smoke of the incense will not rise to
heaven, unless it be kindled on the altar; and
hence it is that a great part of our prayers
Vanish like an empty sound, and are dissipa-
ted in the air. Nor is it wonderful, as we have
elsewhere observed, that those petitions do
not ascend, which hardly go out, which go not
forth from the depth of the breast, and there-
fore they rise not on high, but are born and
die upon the lips. How should they live,
when they have no principle of life, neither
the constancy of faith, nor the love of zeal 2
And if he who asks timorously, much more
he that asks with cold indifference, may seem
to bespeak a denial.
It is not the much speaking and the vain
repetition, condemned in the gospel, to redou-
ble the same words again and again, provided
it be not from want of care and affection, but
if, on the contrary, it proceeds from the
vehemence and exuberance of it. The great
apostle tells us, that he besought the Lord
thrice; and the Lord of the apostle, and our
Lord, prayed in the garden again and again,
speaking the same words. He that pours out
his words, inattentive to what he is about,
seems to me to pray long, if he utters but two
sentences; though his words be ever so few
and well chosen, yet is he himself foolish and
verbose. For what can be more foolish than
the empty noise even of the best words, when
they express nothing of the mind? But he
who continues long in prayer, and urges the
same petitions again and again, bursting out
from the fervor of an influenced breast, he,
truly, prays in a vivid and solid manner, and
in a manner most acceptable to God; and
what Fabius says of his orator, may with
great propriety be applied to him, Pectus est,
quod disertum facit, et vis mentis: It is the
heart, and the energy of the mind, that make
a man truly eloquent.
Hear me.] The great Author of nature and
of all things does nothing in vain. He insti-
tuted not this law, and, if I may so express it,
art of praying, as a vain and insignificant
thing, but endows it with a wonderful effica-
cy for producing the greatest and happiest
consequences. He would have it to be the
key by which all the treasures of heaven
should be opened. He has constructed it as
a powerful machine, by which we may, with
easy and present labor, remove from us the
most dire and unhappy machinations of our
enemy, and may with equal ease draw to
ourselves what is most propitious and advan-
tageous. Heaven and earth, and all the ele-
ments, obey and minister to the hands which
are often lifted up to heaven in earnest prayer.
Yea, all works, and which is yet more and
greater, all the words of God obey it. Well
known in the sacred Scriptures are the exam-
ples of Moses and Joshua, and that which
James (ch. v. 17), particularly, mentions of
Elijah, whom he expressly calls buotoratºs, a
man subject to like infirmities with ourselves,
that he might illustrate the admirable force
of prayer, by the common and human weak-
ness of the person by whom it was offered.
And that Christian legion under Antoninus is
well know and justly celebrated, which, for
the singular ardor and efficacy of its prayers,
obtained the name of repavv660xos, the thunder-
ing legion.
It is true, indeed, that our desires and our
374
[WER. 2
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM CXXX.
hearts are open to God, when our tongues are
entirely silent, and that he has a paternal re-
gard to all our concerns; nor do we utter our
petitions to him, as if he were ignorant or
negligent of our necessities and desires, for
we well know that he sees and hears every-
thing, Tavr' épopä kai imakoúsi. It is also true, that
his counsels are all fixed and immoveable.
But it can by no means be inferred from these
premises, that the business of prayer is vain
and needless. And if any one would represent
these things as superseding prayer, surely.he
deceives himself, and by all his reasonings
would make out nothing, unless it were to
convict himself of a vast ingratitude to the
Divine munificence, and a most shameful un-
worthiness of so excellent a gift.
Ought not this intercourse of men with God
by prayer to be most reverently and gratefully
received and cultivated by all, and numbered
among the chief favors of the Divine nature,
and the chief dignities of the human nature ?
And truly this, as much as anything that can
be imagined, is a lamentable argument of the
stupidity of man in this fallen state, that such
an honor is so little regarded. Opportunities
of conversing with nobles or princes of the
earth are rare and short ; and if a man of
inferior station be admitted to such a favor,
he glories in it, as if he were raised to hea-
ven; though they are but images made of the
same clay with himself, and only set upon a
basis a little higher than the rest. But the
liberty of daily and free converse with the
King of heaven is neglected for every trifle,
and indeed is counted as nothing, though his
very aspect alone fills so many myriads of
blessed spirits above with full and perpetual
felicity.
Again, is it not most reasonable to acknowl-
edge, by this spiritual sacrifice of prayer, his
infinite power and goodness, and that most
providential care by which he governs all
human affairs? And when our very being
and life depend upon him, and all the comfort
and happiness of life, how congruous is it to
exhibit this sign and token of his holding us
by the hand, and of our being borne up by
him Again, what sweeter lenitive of all
those miseries with which mortal life so con-
tinually abounds, can be invented, than this,
to pour out all our care and trouble into his
bosom, as that of a most faithful friend and
affectionate father ? Then does the good man
lay himself down to sleep with sweet com-
posure in the midst of waves and storms, when
he has lulled all the cares and sorrows of his
heart to sleep, by pouring out his prayer to
God. And once more, how pleasant is it, that
these benefits, which are of so great a value
both on their own account and that of the
Divine benignity whence they come, should
be delivered into our hands, marked, as it
were, with this grateful inscription, That they
have been obtained by prayer /
Hear, O Lord.] It is certain that the great-
er part of men, as they babble out vain, lan-
guid, and inefficacious prayers, most unworth:
the ear of the blessed God, so they seem in
some degree to set a just estimate upon them,
neither hoping for any success from them, not
indeed seeming to be at all solicitous about it,
but committing them to the wind, as vain
words, which in truth they are. But far be
it from a wise and pious man, that he should
so foolishly and coldly trifle in so serious an
affair: his prayer has a certain tendency and
scope, at which he aims with assiduous and
repeated desires, and doth not only pray that
he may pray, but that he may obtain an an-
swer: and as he firmly believes that it may
be obtained, so he firmly, and constantly, and
eagerly urges his petition, that he may not
flatter himself with an empty hope. For it
can not be that any pious and reasonable de-
sire should be directed toward the throne of
God in vain, since he has been pleased to
assume it among his titles, that he is a God
hearing prayer. And certainly though the
good man does not always obtain the very
thing that he asks, yet, pure and right peti-
tions never ascend in vain ; but he who pre-
sents them, either obtains the thing he asks,
or receives, instead of what is pleasing, what
is truly profitable, and instead of the things
that he wishes for, those that are upon the
whole the fittest and best, and that in the
fittest and best time. Therefore, the vehe-
mence of prayer is to be attempered with
patience and long suffering expectation. We
often put ourselves, as it were, out of breath
with the eagerness of speaking, and are pres-
ently weary, if we do not immediately obtain
our request. Our prayers are often like those
of the damsel who danced before Herod, I
will that thou presently give me this or that.
Whereas, he that prays fervently, urges this,
that God would make haste to help him ; but
in the meantime, as he believes, he will not
make haste, nor will he suffer, if the delay
be ever so long, that a speech like that of the
impious king of Israel should escape him,
This evil is of the Lord, and why should I
wait for the Lord any longer ? 2 Kings vi. 33.
But oh, how necessary is it, that souls wor-
shipping so pure a God, should be purged
from all the earthly dregs of impure affections!
Most true is that oracle of the psalmist, If I
regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not
hear my prayer. The hands must be washed
an innocence, before they can be lifted up to
him with acceptance. Draw near to God,
says the Apostle, James, and he will draw
near to you"; but in order to this, he subjoins,
Cleanse your hands, ye sinners, and purify
your hearts, ye hypocrites, or f double-mind-
£d, who are the impurest of all. These things
we only briefly suggest; but I beseech you,
my dear charge, that ye embrace this Divine
study, that you labor to obtain this sacred art,
which is the best and only way of being en-
riched with all the most valuable blessings,
even those of a celestial origin and tendency.
O think it is nothing unpleasant, nothing low
WER. 3..]
375
MEDITATIONS ON PSALMI CXXX.
and contemptible, to which you are now invit-
ed: on the contrary, there is nothing more de-
lightful, nothing more sublime, than to medi-
tate upon heavenly objects, to converse with
God, and thence to imbibe a contempt of this
low and transitory world, to be raised above
all perishing enjoyments, and to taste the
prelibations of that celestial life itself.
But how accurately soever the precepts of
this Divine oratory may be delivered, none
will effectually receive them, unless they are
taught the skill by God himself. We must
pray that we may be able to pray, and draw
as it were from that superior academy that
faculty of pure and pious speech which flies
as with a swift, ready, and natural motion to
heaven whence it came, and brings down
with it the most precious gifts into the bosom
of the person that utters it. And by the way,
it is a most certain truth, that the greatest
blessings are much more easily obtained from
the great God, who is so munificent in his
gifts, than others of a meaner nature; so that
it were an argument of a low and abject
mind, not to ask something noble and excel-
lent. Covet earnestly the best gifts, in this
sense. If we ask only things of a low and
trifling nature, unworthy such a giver, he may
answer as a prince did, “These are not royal
gifts,” o' gagiXtkov rá čápov; but if we ask those
things that are most precious and valuable,
grace and glory, there will be no room to fear
that denial, oëk dv0p6ttvov rô Xilupa, “It is not fit
for a man to receive it.” If you who are evil
know how to give good gifts to your children,
how much more your heavenly Father J Sure-
ly, he is goodness itself, and he gives only
what is good ; and the better those things are
that we ask, the more freely and cheerfully
does he bestow them. And you know Luke,
repeating the same speech, expresses it by
saying, He shall give the Holy Spirit to them
that ask it ; than which, nothing more noble
can be either desired or bestowed.
VER. 3. lf thou, Lord, shouldst mark iniquities, O
Lord, who shall stand
AMong all the virtues which are necessary
to offer up our prayers with acceptance, none
ascend with greater velocity, and rise higher,
than that very humility which causes them,
as it were, to descend the deepest of all ; nor
is there any more indubitable argument of
humility, than a conscience which groans un-
der the burden of its own sin and guilt amid
all the abyss of calamities, crying especially
from this depth. And thus we see the
psalmist, while he involves all other evils,
how great soever they might be, under one
common title, fixed upon this, to expatiate
upon it at large. If thou, Lord, shouldst mark
iniquities, &c. Thus, if any one desires to
mount more readily and more favorably from
the depth of calamity, let him cry from this
depth of profound humility, and plead a peni-
tent sense of sin. For though of all imagina-
ble depths, that of sin be the most remote
from the most high and most holy God, yet,
the depths of the humble soul, depressed un-
der the weight of sin, is nearest of all to the
deep bowels of Divine mercy ; so that the
words of the psalmist may not improperly be
accommodated to this, though in a sense
something different from that which in their
connexion they bear, Deep calls unto deep,
and by an harmonious kind of antiphony, if I
may be allowed the expression, they do most
musically answer to each other.
One might have been ready, perhaps, to
imagine, from the vehemence with which he
begins his address, and from his groanings as
it were so thick and so short, that he was a
somewhat bold petitioner, and that he had
some confidence in himself, seeing that he
presumed to knock so often and so loud at
the door of divine mercy. But what he here
adds plainly shows that this was far from be-
ing the case: “Hear me, O, Lord, hear me :
and I urge the request because necessity
presses urgently upon me. Not that I am,
or judge myself to be one who can merit
thine assistance, but that I stand in such need
of it, that if it be not granted me, I must
perish. So far am I from being or appearing
to myself worthy of thy help, that behold I
am overwhelmed with sin more than with
sorrows. It is free mercy that I invoke, and
I beseech thee, that in order to thy hearing
the voice of my prayer, thou wouldst not
hearken to the cry of my sins. Wash away
the one, that thou mayst graciously smile
upon the other. For, if thou, Lord, shouldst
mark iniquity, who shall stand 2 Intimating
that if he were drawn out of the other
depths, yet if his sins continued unremitted,
he could find no place on which to stand;
yea, if it were possible for him in that case
to flee away and hide himself, yet he would
rather plunge himself into those depths
again, and would rather be buried and lost in
floods of the greatest calamities, than meet
the more dreadful flame of the divine anger
and indignation.
But this humble acknowledgment of his
own unworthiness and pollution, is so far
from being inconsistent with the pious confi-
dence of prayer, that it is not only congruous,
but even congenial to it, and inseparable
from it, so as to be most agreeable to that
great King whom it addresses. , Humility
and contrition of heart are often thought by
men to be the mark of a low and abject mind,
and as such are often despised by them; but
nothing is more honorable in the sight of God.
“He,” says Augustine,” “will bow down
his ear, if thou dost not lift up thy neck.”
There is certainly no more efficacious meth-
od of supplicating and obtaining grace, than
to do it, if I may so speak, sub forma paupe-
ris, confessing and pleading our poverty.
He finds the most easy access in the court
of heaven, who meets the most frequent re-
pulses on earth. Nay, if I may so express
myself, the heavenly court sits and resides in
* Inclinat aurem Deus, si tu non erigis cervicem.
376
[WER. 3.
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM CXXX.
him. The two chief temples and palaces
of the great King, are that rougé, ºv, thrice holy
place in the third heaven and the humble
and contrite heart upon earth. The best
manner of praying, therefore, is that which
is made up of faith, fear, and humility. By
the equal libration of these wings, the soul
mounts on high, while that of fear does not
sink too low, nor that of confidence rise too
high.” By these, we are daily and early to
Soar to God; and care must be taken that
these wings of the soul be not dragged down
by excess, nor scorched by lust, nor clogged
and glued together, as it were, by covetous-
ness, or any other terrene and viscid affec-
tion. But let us now a little more particu-
larly see what this confession of the prophet
W3. S.
If thou, Lord, shouldst mark tniquity, O
Lord, who shall stand 2 An uninstructed and
incautious reader might perhaps imagine
that the psalmist was here seeking for ref.
uge in a crowd, and desirous of sheltering
himself under the common lot of human na-
ture; at least, that he would endeavor to
find some low excuse for himself, in the men-
tion of its universal degeneracy. But the de-
sign of the sacred writer is far different from
this. He confesses that whatever he, or any
other person, on a transient and inattentive
glance, may imagine of his innocence, yet,
when the eye of the mind is directed inward
in a serious and fixed manner, then he sees
the sum and bulk of his sins to be so im-
mensely great that he is even struck into aston-
ishment by it ; so that he finds himself beset,
as it were, on every side with armed troops,
which cut off all possibility of escape, other-
wise than by flying to divine mercy and to
the freedom of pardoning grace. He per-
ceives himself unable to bear the examina-
tion of an awakened conscience, exercising
itself in impartial self-reflection; and argu-
ing thence, how much less he would be
able to endure the penetrating eye and strict
Scrutiny of the divine Justice, he cries out,
in horror and trembling, under an apprehen-
sion of it, If thou, Lord, shouldst mark in-
iquities, &c. He sees himself overwhelmed
with crimes, held at bay, as it were, by his
sins on every side, which roar around him
like so many savage creatures just ready to
devour him. And he that does not see this
to be his own case, is either almost blind, or
lives abroad, and never descends into his own
breast. Gross offences alone strike the eve
of our fellow-creatures: but when we seri-
ously consider that we have to do with an
All-seeing Judge, who looks at once through
every covering, and sees the most secret re-
cesses of our hearts, who considers not only
what may be concealed from men, but even
what is concealed from ourselves, so as most
clearly to discover every the least stain and
speck of our inmost soul, and whose infinite
... Oratio timida coelum non attingit: temeraria re-
silit, et vià suá frangitur.—BERNARD.
holiness must also abhor it; is it possible
that any one should be so infatuated as, in
such a view, still to retain a false and foolish
conceit of his own innocence 2 It can not be
doubted that they who daily and accurately
survey themselves and their own hearts,
though they may indeed escape many of
those evils which the generality of mankind,
who live as it were by chance, fall into, yet,
in consequence of that very care and study,
see so much the more clearly their own im-
purity, and contract a greater abhorrence of
themselves, and a more reverential dread of
the divine judgments. And it is certain that
the holier any one is, the viler will he be in
his own eyes, and I may also add, the viler
he is in his own eyes, the more dear, pre-
cious, and honorable, will he be in the sight
of God. But where is the heart, yea, I may
say, where is the forehead of the generality
of mankind, who boast of it as if it were
some great matter to be free from the infamy
of the most atrocious crimes 2 Have they
not continually the reward of this their egre-
gious virtue 2 “I have not committed mur-
der and robbery—You are not gibbeted for the
food of crows and ravens.” But they who
bring the whole of their conduct, their deeds
and their words, the glances of their eye,
and all the inward workings of their affec-
tions, and examine them by the pure and
strait rule of the divine law, so as to per-
ceive how many and how great errors attend
every most cautious day; and they who feel
how wavering and weak their faith is, how
lukewarm at least, if not cold, their piety
and charity, how ardent their love of this
world still continues, how untamed the flesh,
how unguarded the senses, how unbridled
the affections, how attentive their hearts to
trifles, while in prayer so light and so wan-
dering ; they, I say, who perceive and reflect
on this, with what poignant grief, with what
overwhelming shame must they be seized,
and how earnestly and how justly will they
cry out, If thou, Lord, shouldst mark inigui-
ty, who could stand 2
If thou shouldst mark.] If thou shouldst
inquire and scrutinize, and then shouldst re-
tain and impute (for the Hebrew word imports
both): if thou shouldst inquire, thou wouldst
find something of iniquity in the most righte-
ous of mankind; and when thou hast found
it, if thou shouldst retain it, and call him to
an account for it, he could by no means free
himself of the charge, or expiate the crime.
Inquiring, thou wouldst easily find iniquity ;
but he by the most diligent inquiry will be
able to discover no ransom, and therefore
will be unable to stand, will have no piace
on which to set his foot, but will fall by the
irresistible judgments of thy law, and the
sentence of thy justice.
There have been great disputes one way
and another, about the merit of good works;
but I truly think they who have laboriously
• Furtum non feci-Non pascis in cruce corvos.
VER. 4.]
377
MEDITATIONS ON PSALMI CXXX.
engaged in them, have been very idly, though
very eagerly employed about nothing, since
the more sober of the schoolmen themselves
acknowledge there can be no such thing as
meriting from the blessed God, in the human,
or to speak more accurately, in any created
nature whatsoever: nay, so far from any
possibility of merit, there can be no room for
reward any otherwise than of the sovereign
pleasure and gracious kindness of God; and
the more ancient writers, when they use the
word merit, mean nothing by it but a certain
correlate to that reward which God both
promises and bestows of mere grace and be-
nignity. Otherwise, in order to constitute
what is properly called merit, many things
must concur, which no man in his senses
will presume to attribute to human works,
though ever so excellent; particularly that
the thing done must not previously be mat-
ter of debt, and that it be entire, or our own
act, unassisted by foreign aid; it must also
be perfectly good, and it must bear an ade-
quate proportion to the reward claimed in
consequence of it. If all these things do
not concur, the act can not possibly amount
to merit. Whereas I think no one will ven-
ture to assert that any one of these can
take place in any human action whatever.
But why should I enlarge here, when one
single circumstance overthrows all those ti-
tles: the most righteous of mankind would
not be able to stand, if his works were
weighed in the balance of strict justice; how
much less then could they deserve that im-
mense glory which is now in question | Nor
is this to be denied only concerning the unbe-
liever and the sinner, but concerning the
righteous and pious believer, who is not only
free from all the guilt of his former impenitence
and rebellion, but endowed with the gift of
the Spirit. The interrogation here expresses
the most vehement negation, and signifies
that no mortal, in whatever degree he is
placed, if he be called to the strict examina-
tion of Divine justice, without daily and re-
peated forgiveness, could be able to keep his
standing and much less could he arise to that
glorious height. “That merit,” says Ber-
nard, “on which Iny hope relies, consists in
these three things; the love of adoption, the
truth of the promise, and the power of its
performance.” This is the threefold cord
which can not be broken.
VER. 4. But there is forgiveness with thee, that thou
mayest be feared.
THIS is the genuine method of Divine
grace: it first demands a mind void of all
confidence in itself, that so it may be filled
with a pure and entire trust in God. For
though that blind self-confidence which is so
natural to us, be flatulent and empty, yet
while it possesses the mind, it is as it were
* Meritum, cui innititur spes mea, tribus hisce con-
stat, charitate adoptionis, veritate promissionis, et
potestate, redditionis.
48
blown up by it; and that swelling breaks off
everything more solid, and prevents its ac-
cess even when it seems to surround us on
every side. Yea, it seems that the riches
and magnificence of Divine grace can not
with so much decency communicate itself,
when it is, as it were, straitened by the re-
ceiver; for since it is so great as to be able
to fill everything, it requires a free and am-
ple space in which to dilate itself. He who
in the first original of the new-born world
brought all things out of nothing acts like
himself in the regeneration and restoration
of mankind to holiness. The Holy Spirit
finds nothing but Tohu va Bohu, nothing but
what is without form and void ; and whoev-
er of mankind perceives and acknowledges
this to be his case, may be assured that the
Spirit of God already begins to move upon
him to impregnate the face of the abyss; and
then it is said concerning them, Let there be
light, and there is light, even that light by
which they see themselves unformed and
dark, and destitute of everything that is good.
It is a great sign of a soul beginning to
emerge from its misery, to give up every
hope of emerging from it, except that one
which arises from free mercy alone. And in
this sense, it may truly be said, as it is by the
poet,
Una salus miseris nullam sperare salutem :
“The wretched find no safety but despair—”
. i. e., in themselves, in their own righteous-
ness or innocence, their own industry in ful-
filling the law, or any expiation they can
make for the breach of it. And what the
apostle says of his own danger, may, properly
enough, be applied to a confession of the
soul, pressed under the burden of its own
guilt. We had received the sentence of death
in ourselves, that we might not trust in our-
selves, but in God who raises the dead. 2 Cor.
i. 9. For the exclamation before us bears a re-
markable resemblance to that expression, If
thou, Lord, shouldst markiniquity, O Lord, who
could stand 2 But there is forgiveness with
thee, that thou mayest be feared. He who from
justice found not any ground upon which he
might stand, finds in mercy a place from
which he may rise again. And this is the
remedy of all our grief and distress, and in
this sense we must be sick that we may re-
cover, and must die that we may live. Grace
exerts its power, where nature and art, and
all the excellency and strength of human na-
ture, fail; nor does any soul celebrate the Di-
vine benignity more signally than those who
are snatched as it were out of the flames
when they are beginning to seize them, and
being rescued from the very jaws of hell, re-
turn to life again, and breathe in the land of
the living.
That trite distinction of sin into mortal and
venial, which is so common among the
schoolmen, is not only vain and destitute of
all support from the word of God, but is in-
deed very faulty, and far from being itself
378
[WER. 4.
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM CXXX.
venial, well deserves to be exploded as mor-
tal, for that malignant influence which it has
upon the morals of men. If the most open
danger of the Divine displeasure and of eter-
nal death, can not hinder the bold race of men
from rushing on headlong to every crime,”
and breaking all the barriers of duty which
God has prescribed them, will it not add
great licentiousness to all the crowd and tu-
mult of headstrong desires, when some sins
are said to be by their own nature, and in the
whole kind of them, free from the condem-
ning sentence of the Divine law Ż But what
I here oppose, is this; give me the holiest
man upon earth, the man who above all others
stands at the remotest distance, both in the
affections of his mind and in the conduct of
his life, from those sins which they acknowl-
edge as mortal, will he not deeply feel his
need of daily forgiveness, from the multiplied
pollutions of his daily infirmities? He truly
accounts no sin little, which is committed
against the great and ever-blessed God, nor
any pardon little, which he knows to proceed
from his infinite grace. Nor will he promise
himself the pardon of the least fault which
he indulges: nor will he despair of obtaining
a pardon of the greatest for which he is
truly penitent. And this is the law of grace.
The poet said with a great deal of justice,
“That no sinner is absolved by himself,” be-
cause he is as it were turned informer against
himself.f. Yet, in another sense, the sinner
is absolved by that very self accusation, and
Sorrowing for his sins, is freed from the guilt
of them. For it is not by any means to be
conceived that any one can return into favor
with God, unless he return to God; nor that
any one can return to God, unless he re-
nounce every sin: which if he does, they are
all entirely forgiven, and those which he ea-
gerly desires to cast behind his back, shall
never rise up to condemn him to his face, be-
fore the tribunal of the Divine justice. This
sentiment runs through all the evangelical
discourses of the prophets, by which, as so
many heralds, they call a rebellious people
to return to the allegiance of God, their su-
preme King: Return, ye backsliding children,
and I will heal your backslidings. Yea, the
Very Fountain of Grace, the Lord of the
prophets, who is himself the great author and
the sum of the gospel doctrine, as soon as
ever he came forth to publish this grace, said,
Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.
Nor can any mind that is not fallen into utter
madness and complete distraction, dream of
a pardon, how ample and glorious soever, to
be imparted to a sinner who will not repent
or return. Nor indeed can it be so much as
wished. For how unworthy would it be of
the Divine Majesty and Wisdom, to throw
away such precious graces on those who so
obstinately despise them | But there is for-
* Audax omnia perpeti
Gens humana, ruit per vetitum nefas.-HoRACE.
f Se indice nemonocens absolvitur.
giveness with thee—which is added with the
utmost propriety ; with him there is a treas-
ure of mercy laid up, to be imparted most
freely and richly to every humble sinner that
applies to him for it, Nor is the dispensing
of grace in this way at all inconsistent with the
richness and freeness of it, since the greatest
sins, the most aggravated crimes, are abso-
lutely forgiven, without any penalty or fine
whatsoever imposed upon the offender, yet,
on this most reasonable and happy condition,
that they who are thus received into the Di-
yine favor should express their grateful ac-
knowledgments for it, by love, obedience,
and sanctity of life. Neither is this forgive-
ness the less free and gracious, because Jesus
Christ, as our surety and redeemer, has paid
the price of it, having been appointed for and
destined to this great and arduous work by
the Father. For what does that great Fa-
ther of mercies herein, but, in order to our
complete discharge, by one certain, and ever-
to-be-admired way, satisfy himself of his own,
by fastening his only begotten Son to the
cross 2 The repository of this treasure is
opened, the whole price is poured out at
Once, that great price of redemption, more
precious than all the treasures, than all the
mines of gold in the world, or even the
whole world itself. But they who anxiously
debate the point, whether God could simply
and absolutely pardon sin without any price,
do but trifle; for whatever may be supposed
concerning that, who is there that will deny
that this way of the salvation of men which
God has chosen, is so full of stupendous mys-
tery, and so illustrious, if I may so speak, for
that trine and to us most benign aspect of
wisdom, justice, and mercy, that nothing can
be thought of more worthy the Divine Maj-
esty, nothing sweeter, nothing more munifi-
cent with respect to unworthy man 2 So that,
it will appear, Athanasius speaks very pru-
dently when he says, “We ought not in this
matter so much to consider the absolute pow-
er of God, as what is most advantageous to
man, and what most worthy of the Divine
Being.”
It was fit that our wise Creator should
give us a law, and that law was both useful
and pleasant to those who would carefully
observe it; but when once violated, there
would necessarily arise a fatal enmity be-
tween the law and the transgressors of it, an
enmity which would continually become pro-
gressive, and gather new strength in the prog-
ress. But as for our obstinacy, what is it
more than ſpós kevrpa Aakričew, to kick against
the pricks 2 The law is inviolably safe in its
own sanctity, dignity, and immortality; but
we, by striving against it, what do we gain
but iniquity, disgrace, and death 3 So that
if there were no umpire to interpose, there
would be no hope, but that the whole human
* Očk oğros dei ev rońro paypart ro àràös rod Osos
Čávarov Aoyišeoffat, Ös ro rots div00%rous Avatrexéampoy kai
travvye bpós Beorperáo repov.
WER. 4.]
379
MEDITATIONS ON PSALMI CXXX.
kind should perish. But that blessed and ef-
ficacious Intercessor came from on high ; and
certainly he was himself a Divine person,
who could compose such a controversy, and
who joining, by an indissoluble union, his in-
finitely better with our miserable and mortal
nature, did so, by a most wonderful method,
render to the law all its accuracy of obedi-
ence, and to us, though guilty, impunity.
And having thus made peace, that concord
might afterward continue and prevail, he an-
imates all who partake of this blessed peace,
by his own new, pure, and Divine Spirit, that
they might not only be engaged sincerely to
endeavor to observe diligently the sacred pre-
cepts of the law, but might love them, and
cordially embrace them. At the same time,
he hath tempered the severity of the law
toward all those that are received into favor,
that their diligent, pious, and affectionate ob-
servance of the law, though not entirely com-
plete, should, by our indulgent Father, be
most graciously accepted, even as if it were
perfect. And so the honor of the Divine
Legislator is secure among men, and his
peace descends upon them ; and this is what
our text observes, There is forgiveness with
thee, that thou mayest be feared.
It is well known, that the fear of God is
commonly used in Scripture to signify, not
only the whole of his worship, but all pious
affections whatsoever, and consequently the
whole of true religion. And some translate
the expression here, that thou mayest be rev-
erently worshipped ; and it is thus used with
the greatest propriety. I speak of that fear
which is so far from denoting the servile, hos-
tile dread and terror which some might think
of, that, on the contrary, it entirely excludes
it, being properly a reverence tempered with
love. Yet I do not think that we are to ex-
clude all dread of punishment and vindictive
justice under the name of a servile and disin-
genuous fear; nay, I apprehend such a fear
to be very necessary even to those who most
ardently love, as long as they live in the flesh,
in order to tame and rein in the petulancy of
it; yea, love itself places fear as a kind of bit
and bridle to the flesh. Psalm crix. 128, My
jlesh trembles for fear of thee, and I am
afraid of thy judgments. Heb. xii. ult, Let
us serve God with reverence and godly fear,
for our God is a consuming fire. This is the
fear which is called the beginning of wisdom,
and which is marked with other very high
titles of honor in the sacred Scriptures; with-
out which, we can neither conceive the be-
ginning of divine worship and true piety, nor
pursue the improvement of it.
As this holy and pure fear is the compen-
dium and summary of religion, so this par-
don and free remission of sins is the great
foundation and support of that fear and reli-
gion. As the whole human race is defiled
with sin, the despair of pardon would entire-
ly drive us away from God, and precluding
all ways of returning, would plunge the offen-
der headlong into eternal banishment and
eternal hatred.
With thee is forgiveness, that thou mayst
be feared ; that men may not dread thee and
flee thee as an inexorable judge and enemy,
but may reverence, love, and serve thee, as a
mild and gracious Lord, as a most merciful
and loving father. And this is that joyful
message of the gospel, to which sinners run,
as soon as they hear and understand it, pros-
trating themselves with all humility at the
feet of so mild a Lord and so gracious a king.
“For no one,” as Ambrose says, “will think
of repenting, but he who hopes for indul-
gence.” This merciful God calls back to
his favor, those who are as it were flying
from it, saying, Return, ye apostates and reb-
els, and I will pardon and heal your backsli-
dings. And they, as if their bowels sounded
to the unison note of mercy, with reciprocal
penitence and love, answer, Behold we come
unto thee, for thou art Jehovah our God.
And this is what the great messenger and
author of our salvation preached and set
forth : Repent, says he, for the kingdom of
heaven is at hand. You are not now pursued
by wrath and vengeance, threatening utterly
to extirpate you and cut you off, but the king-
dom of heaven, the dispensation of love, mer-
cy, and grace, opens its bosom to embrace
you, and freely offers you the full pardon of
all your former obstimacy and rebellion. Be-
hold the compassionate father meeting that
prodigal son who had so basely run from him,
while yet afar off on his return, and, instead
of chiding and upbraiding him, burying not
only all his sins, but even his very confession,
as in a deluge of love, amidst the tenderest
embraces, kisses, and tears. Make me to hear,
says David, the voice of joy and gladness, that
the bones which thou hast broken may rejoice.
By that lamentable fall, he had as it were
dashed himself against the rock of Divine
justice, so that all his bones were broken;
but what a voice of joy and gladness is that
which should restore full soundness and
strength to bones which had thus been crush-
ed and shattered to pieces! Surely, it is no
other voice than that so often used by our
Savior in the gospel, Son, be of good cheer ;
thy sins are forgiven thee. That was the
grace, softer than oil, sweeter than roses,
which flowed from his lips into the sinner's
wounds, and which being poured into the
contrite heart, not only heals, but blesses it,
yea, and marks it out for eternal blessedness.
But alas ! the greater part of sinners sleep in
their misery, and though their distempers
are mortal, feel them not. It is therefore no
great wonder, that this grace, this precious,
this invaluable remedy, is despised by them.
But oh, how sweet is the voice of pardon to
a soul groaning under the burden of sin
* Nemo meditabitur poenitentiam, nisiqui sperave-
rit indulgentiam.
380
[WER. 5–8.
MEDITATIONS ON PSALM CXXX.
& uale per acstum
Dulcis aquae saliente sitim restinguere rivo :
“Sweet as the living stream to summer thirst.”
But, as one well expresses it, “He that
has never known discomfort, knows not what
consolation means. Men of this world, en-
tangled in the cares of life and in its crimes,
insensible of misery, attend not to mercy.”
But if any who imagine themselves parta-
kers of this forgiveness, do not at the same
time feel their hearts struck with a pious
fear of the divine majesty, let them know that
their joys are all self-invented dreams, since
it is for this very end that there is forgive-
ness with God even that he may be feared.
In the remainder of this psalm, the author
asserts his confidence in God, and labors to
confirm and establish that of all true believ-
€TS.
VER, 5. I wait for the Lord, my soul doth wait, and
in his word do I hope.
VER. 6. My soul waiteth for the Lord, more than
they that watch for the morning; I say, more than
they that watch for the morning.
VER. 7. Let Israel hope in the Lord, for with the
Lord there is mercy, and with him is plentecus re-
demption.
VER. 8. And he shall redeem Israel from all his ini-
quities.
I wait for the Lord.] With thee is mercy.
They who heartily believe this, are drawn
by that sweet and amiable force of desire, to
be partakers of it. And certainly, there is no
true faith in the doctrine of salvation, unless
it be attended with this magnetic force by
which it draws the soul to God. One would
think it were impossible, where this effect is
not produced, that there should be so much
as an historical faith ; and surely it is contra-
ry to, and inconsistent with, the rational na-
ture, to see so desirable and excellent a good
laid down before us, and freely offered, with-
out running most freely to embrace it with
open arms, and an ardent impetuosity of soul.
The faith therefore, of vulgar and merely
nominal Christians, is quite dead, and de-
serves not the name of faith at all. I mean,
that which is not sufficient to excite them
carnestly to desire and expect that divine
grace in which they say they believe. True
and lively faith is the eye of the inner man,
which beholds an infinitely amiable God, the
lucid and perpetual fountain of grace, and
is by the view immediately kindled into
most fervent love. That divine light which
is sent from heaven into the soul, is the vehi-
cle of heat too, and, by its ardent rays, pres-
ently sets the heart on fire: the flame rises
sublime, and bears all the affections of the
mind with it, toward that consummate beau-
ty which it renders visible.
When a philosopher was asked, why that
which is fair attracts our love, he answered,
“It is the question of a blind man,” rôºxov spº-
* Quisquis autem desolationem non novit, nec con-
solationem agnoscere potest. Homine seculi negotiis
et flagitiis implicati, dum miseriam nonsentiunt, mis-
ericordian non attendunt.—BERNARD.
Inka. Well then might the psalmist, when
he had been contemplating the divine good-
ness, represent himself as quite transported
with its charms: ç. d. “It is nothing earth-
ly, nothing mortal, that is the object of my
wish ; my soul hangs on the Lord alone. It
thirsts for thee, and till it arrives at the en-
joyment of thee, it will still be waiting. Has-
ten, Lord, to support and comfort me, for I
am sick with love ; nor is there anything in
heaven or earth beside thee, O Lord, which
can satiate or delight this soul of mine, pier-
ced through, as it were, with this sacred pas-
sion. And though I am, and feel myself to
be, most unworthy of loving thee, or of ho-
ping ever to enjoy thee, yet my meanness
and vileness, even when compared with thine
immense majesty and sublimity, do not so
much deter me, as thy boundless clemency
and goodness, added to thy truth, while I
have thy word of promise before mine eyes
for my support, sustain me and animate my
courage. Therefore, while my love and de-
sires are most ardent, I will nevertheless ex-
pect and wait with inward patience and per-
severance ; and though a heart which loves
like mine must find a delay grievous, yet un-
shaken hope shall alleviate that sickness of
the soul. . Just as they that watch for the
morning, however they may be afflicted with
the darkness and coldness of the night, are
constantly supported with the assured hope
that the dawn will come, and the day arise in
all its glory.”
Nor does the psalmist envy others their
share in those felicities which arise from
love and hope; on the contrary, with a cheer-
ful and liberal mind, he invites all to this im-
mense ocean of riches, which is not shut up,
but free to all. Let Israel hope in the Lord.
And, lest the confluence of such vast numbers
should suggest any fears of straitness and
want, he confidently declares that there is
wealth enough, and more than enough, to sup-
ply all their necessities: For with the Lord,
says he, there is mercy, and with him is
plenteous redemption ; grace rich and copi-
ous enough to support all sinners, and to for-
give all sins; and all that apply to it shall in-
fallibly find that he redeems Israel from all
his iniquities. The eye of faith is by no
means evil, but bright and sparkling with un-
bounded charity: it wishes all good to all,
and above all, wishes them a beatific union
with the supreme and infinite Good. As in
that kingdom of glory there is nomalignity, no
envy, because there can be no straitness, but,
according to that emphatical saying of our
blessed Savior, There are many mansions,—
there is boundless space, and the seats of pious
souls are not marked out in any narrow bounda-
ries, but in an ample court; so even in the
revious kingdom and banquet of grace, our
#. father's house is magnificent, both
on account of its amplitude, and the rich pro-
vision which it contains.
Let me beseech you, therefore, strictly to
VER. 5–8.]
381
A FRAGMENT UPON THE EIGHTH PSALM.
examine your own souls. Inquire what it is
that they chiefly wish, hope, and desire ;
whether they give chase as it were to every
painted fly; whether, forsaking the #:
of living waters, they are digging for them-
selves cisterns of clay, and those leaky too,
with great and unprofitable labor. O !
wretched deceitfulness of every earthly hope,
which mocks and deludes us so much the
more in proportion to the extravagance of its
promises | Blessed are they, and only they,
who fix their eyes and their souls above,
and say with the psalmist, Lord, I wait on
thee, my soul does wait, and in thy word do I
trust ; and, as elsewhere, And now, Lord,
what wait I for 2 My hope is in thee. Hap-
py they who have quitted all those low de-
sires and pursuits, which are unworthy of a
generous and immortal spirit, and have fixed
their love on one ; whose heart and hopes are
set upon that one, in whom all things excel-
lent meet and centre. A cheerful joy always
shines on their face; nor do their cheeks
glow with the shame of repulse and disap-
pointment. While we are wandering hither
and thither in the vicious and perplexed pur-
suit of flattering objects, what frequent lam-
entations, what fond complaints of delusive
fortune, and that tragical outcry, itó ič,
rpauparov širočívov, of grievous and painful
wounds ! What crowds of fears and cares
divide the mind, and hurry it, now one way,
and now another | But when we fix our
hope and our hearts on the only support, on
the only true and all-sufficient good, all is
safe, and the soul treads firm while the whole
lobe trembles. Let external things be
orne this way or that, there is peace with-
in ; nor, when all methods have been exam-
ined, can any other be found for the establish-
ment of the mind, than that it should lay all
its stress upon the one immoveable and im-
mutable rock.
A FRAGMENT ON PART OF THE
EIGHTH PSALM.
THAT which it is needful and competent for
us to know concerning God, he hath been
pleased to reveal ; and our most excellent and
happy employment in this world, is, to learn
it
The third verse of this Psalm affords us
clearly the doctrine of the creation. That part
in the psalmist's eye, the heavens, being the
highest and largest of the visible world, sur-
rounding and containing all the rest, is men-
tioned ; the work of thy fingers, importing
the curious embellishments of them ; the moon
and stars which thou hast ordained—placed
them in their orbits, and set them a-going,
and appointed them the periods and revolu-
tions which they observe. So, the same hand
hath fetched all other things out of the same
nothing, as we have it in the beginning of
this Book, In the beginning God created, &c
And it is therefore to be believed, because we
find it there. Can the Worker, and his ope-
ration, be discovered by strength of reason ?
Certainly, they who have been of most con-
fessed and famous ability in that way, have
been partly of another mind ; and we see it
reduced to its truest principle, Hebrews xi. 4:
By faith we understand that the worlds were
framed by the word of God, so that things
which are seen were not made of things which
do appear. Yet this we may boldly affirm, that
there is not only nothing in sound reason cros-
sing it, but that all the cavils alleged against
it are most weak of themselves; and there
be many things in nature that plead strongly
for it, which we may, yea, ought to take no-
tice of.
The continual turnings and changes of
things, the passing of one thing to another,
the destruction of some things, and the pro-
duction of others, and the general decaying of
all, the very heavens waxing old as a garment,
declare that the whole frame is mutable and
corruptible, and therefore not from eternity,
but terminable in its beginning.
There is in this a very strong appearance of
the beginning of the world and of time being
according to the sacred history we have of it,
and which faith receives ; that there are not
any records nor any memoirs, or history of
time, or things, producible in the world, that
go higher up, no, nor any human histories
that go near so high. Now, if there were
thousands of ages before, whence is so deep a
silence of what passed in them ?
They who can conceive it, may take this
reason into consideration, that if the world
had been from eternity, then, certainly, the
number of revolutions would be infinite ; now,
to that which is so, nothing can be added ; so
that it were impossible there could be any
new days or years, &c. But, above all dis-
pute, we believe it upon His word, who by
his word gave all things a being. The whole
Trinity, as in all things without, they are to-
gether equally concerned, so in that first and
great work of making all things.
As by the Father, so by the word were all
things made, and the Spirit moved upon the
face of the deep : BARAH ELOHIM—Trinity in
unity, created.
It is most vain to inquire why the world
was not created sooner, in tempore ; yea, it is
nonsense, for the same question might equal-
ly be moved whensoever the world had been
made, though it had lasted now millions of
years; still there would have been an eternity
preceding, wherein it was not : and time it-
self was concreated. Nor was there any pre-
existent unformed matter. It is a poor, shal-
low conceit, that any such thing was needful
to the Almighty. It is even a monstrous, ab-
surd conceit, that any such thing was possi-
ble, and destroys itself; for if this framed
world could not have a being from eternity,
much less frameless matter; so, of necessity,
382
A FRAGMENT UPON THE EIGHTH PSALM.
all things were made of nothing, received a
being from the Infinite Being, as the spring
of all being. His hands stretched forth the
heavens, and laid the foundations of the earth.
His fingers set them all in this sweet and ad-
mirable order, in a beautiful frame.
Now these expressions are suited to our
reach, but the truth is, his finger and his
whole hand are all one, and his hand is his
word. Psalm xxxiii. 6; Gen. i. 3. And his
word is his all-powerful and eternal will ; that
is the breath of his mouth, and his stretched-
out arm. He said, that is, he willed it, and
*t was so. When as yet there was no man
nor angel, no heaven nor earth, no time nor
being, but the alone blessed Trinity, eternally
self-happy, upon the simple act of his abso-
lute will came forth this whole frame, out of
the womb of Omnipotence. And this is that
certain truth which we believe under the
name of creation.
This supposed, it is very easy to conceive,
yea, it is impossible to question it, that it had
been as easy for THAT Power to have brought
forth all in complete perfection at one instant,
as to have divided the work into six days.
And as we can not think it easier, so we can
not but think it better, since he chose, yea,
because he chose it, as for that reason better.
Well may his will be sufficient cause why
that way of his production of all things was
better, seeing that his will was purely the
cause of the production and being of all.
But in part we may observe some advan-
tage in that way, that he made so many days’
work of it, and proceeded by degrees to bring
it to perfection; that we might the more
clearly perceive, and more distinctly consider,
the greatness and excellency of the work, and
the wise contrivance of it in its several parts
and progress, which we could not so well com-
prehend altogether. Now, we consider him
as first framing one great mass, and then pro-
ceeding to beautify it, first with that which
is indeed the first beautifier of all things, light,
and then ordered the successive interchange
of it with its opposite, darkness, that sets it
off and makes its beauty appear the more,
giving them their terms in day and night :
then proportioning and dividing the rooms of
the great house into upper and lower, accord-
ing to his model and design ; then decorating
them with rich furniture, and providing all
kinds of store in great variety and abundance.
And thus, having first prepared all, having
built, beautified, and replenished so stately a
palace, then framed he the guest for whom he
intended it, and whom he appointed to dwell
in it. Then he said, Let Us make man after
our image. Thus, the work of itself, and the
order of it, and all the parts, carry on them
HIs name who formed them. How do his
power, and wisdom, and goodness, appear in
them And yet how little do we see and ob-
serve it ! It shines bright in all his works,
but we are blind ; we look on them, and see
him not Oh, what a childish, trifling thing
is man in all his ways, till he learns to remark
God in all, and to have his soul upon all oc-
casions musing and admiring, and sweetly
losing itself in God, that immense sea of ex-
cellencies ' What a bottomless wonder is that
Power, from which, by a simple act of will,
issued forth all being ! This vast fabric, and
all things in it, he willed they should be, and
where never anything was, there appeared,
on a sudden, heaven and earth : the earth
settled upon his word, so that it can not be
moved, and enriched with such a variety of
plants, and flowers, and fruits growing forth,
and springs and mines within the bowels of
it ; the seas fitted for navigation, together
with the multitudes of creatures in it, small
and great, and the impetuousness of it, yet
confined and forced to roll in its channel, so
that it can not go forth ; the small sands giv-
ing check to the great waters. Oh, how
strong and large that Hand, which without
help expands the heavens as a curtain Look
up and see, consider their height and round-
ness, such a glorious canopy set with such
sparkling diamonds: then think how swift
their motion, and yet imperceivable to us, no
motion here below comparable, and yet they
seem not to stir at all. And in all, their great
Lord and ours so conspicuous ! And yet who
looks on them with such an eye as to behold
him, as David here, When I consider thy
heavens, the work, &c. He is admirable in
all: the very lowest and smallest creatures
have their wonders of Divine wisdom in their
frame, more than we are able to think. Mag-
nus in minimis : He is great in the least of
his works. The smallest flies, how strange
the fashioning of the organs of life and use in
so little room | The man who is still in search
of wisdom will find a school and a lesson in
all places, and see everywhere the greatness
and goodness of his God. If he walk forth in
the evening, when this lower world is clothed
with the dark mantle of the night, yet still
he can look upward to the pavement of the
throne of God, and think how glorious it is on
the other side, when the moon and stars make
this side, even in the night, so beautiful. And
this of David's, looks like a night meditation
by the view of moon and stars. Thy heavens,
these thy works so glorious—thou, therefore,
infinitely more glorious ; then can I not but
increase in wonder, that, dwelling above these
heavens, thou regardest so poor a Worm as
man creeping on this earth.
What is man 1 “Enosh,” weak, mortal man ;
and “ Ben-Adam,” the son of earth, the earth-
ly man. David was taught so to look on his
mean part and low condition, and on his bet-
ter part, as follows, ver. 5, as a sort of divin-
ity being freely conferred upon him.
Thus men should learn to view themselves
in this twofold light. By the grace of God
I am that I am, saith St. Paul. Truly man
is a wretched and proud creature, a bundle
of vanity and vileness; and yet he thinks
himself some great matter while God is hid
A FRAGMENT UPON THE EIGHTH PSALM.
383
from him, and he is ignorant of His great-
IlêSS.
No discourse or reasoning will humble the
foolish heart of man ; though he be even of
the most worthless and basest sort of men,
and hath in this condition nothing but what
is despicable, yet he flatters himself with
some fancy or other, some imagined advan-
tage that swells him. He can not be truly
vile in his own eyes till they look up to the
excellency of God, and return from that down
upon himself. Then he is forced to bow, and
fall low, and abhor himself in dust and ashes.
Once he was wise and powerful, or some way
deserving (as he .."; to be respected ;
but now the glory and sublimity of God make
him to be as nothing in his own eyes. What
is man J David, a great and a good man, a
king and a prophet, and yet a man, viewing
and comparing himself with his own eyes, in
respect of the great King of all the world, he
cries out, What is man, that thou art mindful
of him, and the son of man, that thou visitest
him 2 These words deserve to be considered.
Thou mindest him in all these things, the
works above him, even in the framing of
these heavens, the moon and the stars, de-
signing his good ; thou makest all attend and
serve him. It is not an empty visiting of
him, but thou seest all his necessities and pro-
videst for them. He sets his heart on man,
and all his delights are with the sons of men.
Prov. viii. 31.
But above all visits, that visit is to be re-
marked and admired, when the Eternal
Word, by whom this world was made, came
down, and was made flesh ; came from his
glorious palace, from the bosom of the Fa-
ther, to visit man in that deep and profound
abyss of misery into which he was fallen, and
to lift him out of it, and cleanse, and clothe,
and dignify him ; came to make the slaves of
Satan sons of God. And the psalmist points
at Christ, as the following words are applied,
Heb. ii. 9. This is a descending indeed, which
the angels are still prying into, looking into
for the bottom, and can not see it, for it hath
none. Oh, that Christ should be disregarded,
and his love slighted He was in the world,
and the world was made by him, and the world
knew him not. John i. 10. He, the same who
became like unto us, and united our flesh to
his blessed Deity, did give a being to all
things, and by him all things consist. Colos-
sians i. 17.
Our Head and Savior is no less than the
mighty power, Creator of the world. He who
is our flesh, he who had his arms wrapped up
in swaddling-clothes, and afterward stretched
upon the cross, he it was who stretched forth
the heavens, and laid the foundation of the
earth. . The weight of the love of so great a
King should pressus low. And then, the per-
Suasion of his almighty power assures us of
complete redemption ; for our salvation is in
a sure and strong hand. We have a mighty
Redeemer: Thy Maker is thy husband, the
Lord of hosts is his name, and thy Redeemer,
the Holy One of Israel, the God of the whole
earth shall he be called.
When I behold, says the psalmist.
The carnal mind sees God in nothing, not
even in spiritual things, his word and ordi-
nances. The spiritual mind sees him in ev-
erything, even in natural things, in looking
on the heavens and the earth, and all the
creatures—THY heavens ; sees all in that no-
tion, in their relation to God as his work, and
in them his glory appearing ; stands in awe,
fearing to abuse his creatures and his favors
to dishonor. The day is thine, and the night
also is thine ; therefore ought not I to forget
thee through the day, nor in the night.
All that I use, and all that I have, is not
mine, but thine, and therefore all shall be for
THEE ; thou art my aim and scope in all.
Therefore God quarrels with his people, be-
cause they had forgotten this. Hos. ii. 8, &c.
The most are strangers to these thoughts;
they can eat, drink, and sleep, lie down and
rise up, and pass one day after another, with-
out one reverend or affectionate thought of
God. They may give him a formal good-
morrow, and then farewell for all the day long;
they offer up their prayers (as they speak),
and think they have done enough, and that
afterward their hearts may go whither they
will, provided they escape grosser sins; they
never check themselves in wandering from
God all the day, if they fall not into some
deep mire.
But even they who are somewhat more
mindful of God, and see him in his works, and
consider them so as to observe him in them,
yet are very faulty in thinking of him seldom,
and in the slightness of such thoughts; they
are not deep in them. We do not accustom
ourselves to walk with God, to a continued
and delightful converse with him, to be still
with him. We can turn our eyes no way but
he is visible and legible ; and if he were our
delight, and his name sweet to us, we should
eye that more in everything, than the things
themselves.
The heart will readily espy and take hold
of every small occasion of remembering that
which it loves. That which carries any im-
pression of the person on whom the affection
is set is more looked upon on that side, and
in that reference, than any other.
Certainly, were God the choice of our
hearts, our natural use and enjoyment of
things would not relish so much with us, nor
take us up so much, as the viewing of him
in them all. In our affairs and our refresh-
ments, in company and apart, in the behold-
ing of heaven and earth, and all that is round
about us, our eye would be most on HIM
whom our soul loveth. What a pity, and
what a shame is it, that we who profess our-
selves to be his children, and even they who
truly are so, should so little mind Our Father
and his greatness and glory, who is continu-
ally minding us and our good It is indeed
384
A FRAGMENT UPON THE EIGHTH PSALM.
a double standing wonder in the world which
he hath made, that God should take so much
notice of man, and man should take so little
notice of God.
Were this known truth of the creation
wisely improved, we should find much in it
that we commonly observe not, at least that
we use not. This one thing, surely, it might
gain upon us, to fear his displeasure who is
so great, and so powerful, who hath the
whole host of heaven, and the great army of
all creatures, at his command.
What he commands they must obey ; for
he commanded and they were made: they
have their being from his command. How
quickly can he crush those who proudly rebel
against him . How easily can he shake them
to pieces, the greatest and the strongest of
them | He poureth contempt upon princes.
Yea, what are they 2 Base potsherds of
earth striving with their Maker, though
somewhat bigger than others, yet as easily
broken by his sceptre. O you that, after all
warnings, dare walk on in your wicked ways,
in drunkenness, or swearing, or any secret
heart wickedness, you know not who is your
party; the great God, the Former of all
things. Who would not fear thee, O King
of nations 2 You who do not fear him are
in a fearful estate. Learn to know him, and
seek unto him. Seek the Lord, and ye shall
live. Seek him who hath the seven stars, and
Orion ; who turneth the shadow of death into
the morning, and maketh the day dark with
night. Amos v. 8.
There is in this a strong ground of spirit-
ual confidence, both for the church’s concern-
ment and our own in every state. This first
work of God rightly looked on, answers all
the difficulties of the greatest works we can
expect at his hands. Let Zion's enemies
grow to their highest, they can not rise so
high as to be above this Almighty God, who
framed the heavens. Let the church be
brought to the lowest depths of distress, yet
can not she fall so low, but his everlasting
arm is long enough to reach her, and draw her
out of it, which drew the whole world out of
nothing. He doth therefore often represent,
by his prophets, this very work as a certain
evidence of his unbounded power. See Isa.
xliii. 13: xliv. 24; and li. 12, 13: Jer. li. 19,
20: Zech. xii. 1. What task can be so great
as to surcharge him, who so easily brought
forth a world 2 What number can be too
small, what instrument too weak in his hand,
for the greatest work, who, without either
working instrument or materials, built such
a palace 2
Fear not, thou worm Jacob, and ye men of
Israel — Why? Wherefore have they no
reason to fear, they being but as a worm 2–
I will help thee, saith the Lord. Behold, I
will make thee a new sharp thrashing instru-
ment with teeth, and thou shalt thrash the
mountains, and make the hills chaff. Isa.
xli. 15. A worm in thyself, but in my hand
a thrashing instrument. Weak Jacob and his
strong God are too hard for all the world.
On the other side, what serve multitudes
without him 3 All were originally nothing,
and when HE wills, they prove as nothing.
Severed from his concurrence, as ciphers,
multiply them as you will, still they signify
nothing. Ten thousand men, without God,
are ten thousand nothings. We have had
very late and very clear experiment of this,
both to our grief and to our comfort. But
both are forgotten, and indeed were never
duly considered ; for if they had, they would
not so soon, yea, they truly would never be
forgotten by us. Well, however, it grieveth
us, by reason of our own continuing hard in
wickedness. Yet this I am sure of, that the
strong arm of the Lord is engaged in this
work: he hath already appeared in it, and
therefore will not let it fall; and though we
were at a lower ebb than lately we were, yet
should we rise again by his strength. Doubt
it not, the enemies of our peace shall be
ashamed, and God shall be yet more glorious
in the world than ever, not only in our out-
ward deliverance, but in that which is far
richer and of higher beauty, the power and
glory of his ordinances. He shall make
things that are not, to be, by the mighty
power of his mouth, and throughout the
world, Jesus Christ shall go on conquering.
In his name lies the reason of his prevailing.
His name is called THE world of GoD, that
same word by which all things were made ;
therefore no opposite power is able to stand
before him. It is a great work to ruin great
Babel, but his strength is enough for it.
Mighty is the Lord God who judgeth. It is
a great work to restore his church, but here
is power enough for it, and it is spoken of
under the resemblance of the creation, Isa.
li. 16.
For the estate of thy soul, thou that art
thoughtful of that, what cause hast thou to
suspect? Is there any plea left for distrust
in thy lowest condition ? Thou art about
great things, and findest all, not only difficul-
ties, but impossibilities to thee. Good is it
that thou shouldst find it so, and be emptied
of all fancy of self-strength. But then, look
up above thyself, and all created, to a cre.
ating power. If thou canst not subdue thy
lusts and iniquities, resolve to wrestle.
Wrestle as thou wilt, still they are too hard
for thee; but look to him who came to de-
stroy the works of . Satan. Hath not thy
Almighty Lord resolved to do it for thee ?
Thou findest nothing within but blindness
and hardness, canst not repent, nor believe,
nor think a right thought of God. It is so.
But one word from him can do all this, and
make all those to subsist that now are not.
Therefore, lay thyself before him, as dead,
yea as very nothing, Say, “Lord, I am noth-
ing of all that which constitutes the being
of a Christian in holiness, in faith, in love:
but speak thou the word, and I shall be a
A FRAGMENT UPON THE EIGHTH PSALM. 385
new creature, to thy praise. There is noth- ing souls; to revive them, to restcre or turn
ing upon my soul but darkness; but art not them again, when they are in a swoon, as
thou HE who said, ‘Let there be light, and the word is, Psalm xxiii. The more thou
there was light º' That word, again, Lord, 'puttest him to it, the more shalt thou find his
say it to my soul, and it shall be so.” Think , prevailing power, and the fulness of grace
not to bring anything with thee. Renova- that dwells in him, which is no more dimin-
tion is as absolute and free a work, as crea- lished by all he shows forth, than his divine
tion. Could his creature oblige him to make power was weakened by the framing of the
it, before it had a being 2 No more can it
oblige him to save it, or to give it a new be-
ing in Christ: all is free. The miracles of
Christ, signs of power and goodness, are pre-
ludes to his greater work. It is most sense-
less to have a thought of preventing him,
from whom all good and all being flow. And
this he does: If any be in Christ, he is
a new creature : the word is, all made new,
new delights and desires, and thoughts new
—a new heaven and a new earth—a new
soul, and a new body ; renewed in holiness,
sanctified, and made conformable to Jesus
Christ. And when thou findest some work
of grace, which thou canst not wholly deny,
and yet wantest that peace and joy which
thou desirest, look to him for that too. Thou
findest it not from the word preached; yet,
he can speak it, and even by that word
wherein formerly thou didst not find it. It is
the fruit of the lips, but it is so withal, that
it is his creation : he only causes it to be. I
create the fruit of the lips, peace, peace. Isa.
lvii. 19. The Father wrought by the Son in
the first creation, but in a new and special
manner works by him in this second crea-
tion. He is that word made flesh, who is the
life and the spring of all the grace and com-
fort thou desirest or readest of Go to him :
he delights to let forth his mercies to thirst-
world. There is no scarcity of spirit in him ;
therefore, he proclaimed it as plural : If any
man thirst, let him come to me and drink. He
that believeth in me, out of his belly shall
flow RIVERs of living water.
How manifold are thy works, O Lord / says
the psalmist, Psalm civ. 24; and then he
adds that wherein all the variety of them
agrees, the holding forth of his incomparable
wisdom, from whose wisdom they are: In
wisdom thou hast made them all. As they
are some of them more excellent than others,
they certainly do, in a clearer and more emi-
ment degree, glorify God. In the great fabric,
that part which hath the place, the heavens,
hath also this advantage; the greatness of
the great Architect appears somewhat more
bright in them. Therefore are they singled
out from the rest for that purpose, both here,
ver. 3, and Psalm xix. 1. But beyond all the
rest, and even beyond them, are the wisdom
and goodness of God displayed in the fram-
ing of his reasonable creatures.
There are of them two stages; the one
higher, the angels, the other lower, yet, but
a little lower, man : as here, we have them
together.
Thou hast made him a little lower than
the angels—of the nature of a spirit, a ra:
tional, intelligent spirit— * * * *
EXPOSITORY LECTURES ON PSALM XXXIX."
LECTURE I.
VER. 1. I said I will take heed to my ways, that I
sin not with my tongue; I will keep my mouth
with a bridle, while the wicked is before me.
CERTAINLY it is a high dignity that is con-
ferred upon man, that he may as freely and
frequently as he will, converse with him who
made him, the great king of heaven and
earth. It is, indeed, a wonder, that God
should honor poor creatures so much ; but it
is no less strange, that men having so great
privileges, the most part of them do use them
so little. Seldom do we come to him in times
of ease. And when we are spurred to it by
afflictions and pains, commonly we try all
other means rather than this, which is the
alone true and unſailing comfort. But such
as have learned this way of laying their pain-
ed head and heart on his bosom, they are tru-
ly happy, though in the world's language they
be never so miserable.
This is the resource of this holy man in the
time of his affliction, whatever it was, pray-
er and tears, bemoaning himself before his
God and father, and that the more fervently,
in that he finds his speaking to men so un-
* First published in the edition of the Expository Works, in two volumes, printed for David Wilson,
&
Edinburgh, 1748.
49
386
[LECT. 1.
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
profitable ; and therefore he refrains from it.
The psalm consists of two parts, his si-
lence to men, and his speech to God ; and
both of them are set with such sweet notes
of music, though they be sad, that they de-
serve well to be committed To the chief mu-
sician.
I said I will take heed to my ways.]. It was
to himself that he said it ; and it is impossi-
ble for any other to prove a good or a wise
man, without much of this kind of speech to
himself. It is one of the most excellent and
distinguishing faculties of a reasonable crea-
ture ; much beyond vocal speech, for in that,
some birds may imitate us; but neither bird
mor beast have anything of this kind of lan-
guage, of reflecting or discoursing with itself.
It is a wonderful brutality in the greatest
part of men, who are so little conversant in
this kind of speech, being framed and dispos-
ed for it, and which is not only of itself ex-
cellent, but of continual use and advantage ;
but it is a common evil among men, to go
abroad, and out of themselves, which is a
madness and a true distraction. It is true, a
man hath need of a well-set mind, when he
speaks to himself; for otherwise, he may be
worse company to himself than if he were
with others. But he ought to endeavor to
have a better with him, to call in God to his
heart to dwell with him. If thus we did, we
should find how sweet this were to speak to
ourselves, by now and then intermixing our
speech with discourses unto God. For want
of this, the most part not only lose their time
in vanity, in their converse abroad with oth-
ers, but do carry in heaps of that vanity to
the stock which is in their own hearts, and
do converse with that in secret, which is the
greatest and deepest folly in the world.
Other solitary employments, as reading the
disputes and controversies that are among
men, are things not unuseful ; yet, all turns
to waste, if we read not our own heart, and
study that. This is the study of every holy
man, and between this and the consideration
of God, he spends his hours and endeav-
ors. Some have recommended the reading
of men more than books; but what is in the
one, or in both of them, or all the world be-
side, without this 2 A man shall find him-
self out of his proper business, if he acquaint
not himself with this, to speak much with
God and with himself, concerning the order-
ing of his own ways.
It is true, it is necessary for some men, in
some particular charges and stations, to re-
gard the ways of others; and besides some-
thing also there may be of a wise observing
of others, to improve the good and the evil
we see in them, to our own advantage, and
the bettering of our own ways, looking on
them to make the repercussion the stronger
on ourselves; but except it be out of charity
and wisdom, it flows either from uncharita-
ble malice, or else a curious and vain spirit,
to look much and narrowly into the ways of
others, and to know the manner of living of
persons about us, and so to know everything
but ourselves: like travellers, that are well
seen in foreign and remote parts, but stran-
gers in the affairs of their own country at
home. The check that Christ gave to Peter,
is due to such, What is that to thee 2 Follow
thou me. John xxi. 22. “Look thou to thine
own feet, that they may be set in the right
way.” It is a strange thing, that men should
lay out their diligence abroad to their loss,
when their pains might be bestowed to their
advantage nearer at hand, at home within
themselves.
This that the psalmist herespeaks of, taking
heed to his ways, as it imports his present dili-
gence, so, also, it hath in it reflection on his
ways past, and these two do mutually assistone
another. He shall never regulate his ways be-
fore him, who has not wisely considered his
ways past; for there is wisdom gathered from
the observation of what is gone, to the choos-
ing where towalk in time to come, to see where
he is weakest, and lies exposed to the greatest
hazard, and there to guard. Thus David ex-
presses it in another psalm, I thought on my
ways, and turned my feet unto thy testimo-
nies. Psalm crix. 52. And this should be
done not only in the great change of one's
first conversion from sin, but this double ob-
servance must be still continued every day:
a man should be looking to his rule, and lay-
ing that rule to his way, and observing
where the bulk and nonconformity to the
rule is, and renewing his repentance for that,
and amending it the next day, that still the
present day may be the better for yesterday's
€rror.
And surely there is much need of this, if
We consider how we are encompassed about
with hazards, and snares, and a variety of
temptations, and how little we have either of
strength to overcome, or of wisdom to avoid
them, especially they being secretly set and
unseen (which makes them the more danger-
ous), everywhere in the way in which we
must walk, and even in those ways where
we least think. Everywhere does the enemy
of our souls lay traps and snares for us; in
our table, in our bed, in our company, and
alone. If the heart be earthly and carnal,
there is the snare of riches and gains, or
pleasures present, to think upon : and if it
delight in spiritual things, that walk is not
exempted either ; there are snares of doubt-
ings, presumption, and pride. And in the
converse of one Christian with another,
where spiritual affection hath been stirred,
it turns often to carnal passions; as the apos-
tle says of the Galatians, they begin in the
spirit and end in the flesh. Gal. iii. 3.
This observing and watching, as it is need-
ful, so it is a very delightful thing, though it
will be hard and painful to the unexperien-
ced. To have a man’s actions and words
continually curbed, so that he can not speak
or do what he would,—these are ſetters and
WER. 1.]
387.
ON PSALM XXXIX.
bonds; yet, to those that know it, it is a
pleasure to gain experience, and to be more
skilled in preventing the surprises of our en-
emies, and upon that to have something add-
ed to our own art, and to be more able to re-
sist upon new occasions, and to find ourselves
every day outstripping ourselves. That is
the sweetest life in the world, for the soul to
6e dressing itself for the espousals of the
great King, putting on more of the ornaments
and beauties of holiness. That is our glory,
to be made conformable to the image of God,
and of Jesus Christ. If an image had sense,
it would desire nothing so much as to look on
the original whence it received its name, and
to become more and more like it: So it is the
pleasure of renewed souls, to be looking on
him, and to be growing daily more like him,
whose living image they are, and to be fit-
ting themselves for that day of glory wherein
they shall be like him in the perfection they
are capable of And this makes death more
pleasant than life to the believer: that which
seems so bitter to the most of men, is sweet-
ened to them most wonderfully. The contin-
ual observance of a man's ways, the keeping
a watch continually over them, this casts a
light upon the dark passage of death, which
is at the end of that walk, and conveys him
through to the fullness of life. So that the
man who observes himself and his ways
through life, hath little to do in examining
them when he comes to die. It is a piece of
strange folly, that we defer the whole, or a
great part of our day's work, to the twilight
of the evening, and are so cruel to ourselves,
as to keep the great load of our life for a few
hours or days, and for a pained, sickly body.
He who makes it his daily work to observe
his ways, is not astonished when that day
comes, which long before was familiar to him
every day.
That I sin not with my tongue.] It is the
Wise man's advice, Keep thy heart with all
diligence, or, above all keeping ; and he gives
the satisfying reason of it, for out of it are
the issues of life. Prov. iv. 23. Such as the
spring is, so will the streams be. The heart
is the spring whence all the natural life and
vital spirits flow through the body; and, in
the Scripture sense, it is the spring of all our
actions and conversation; for it sends out
emissaries through all, through the eye, the
hand, and all the senses and organs of the
body, but through none more constantly and
abundantly than the tongue; and therefore
Solomon, after these words, immediately
adds, Put away from thee a froward mouth,
and perverse lips put far from thee. The
current of the heart runs in that channel ;
for it is the organ of societies, and is common-
ly employed in all the converse of men. And
we can still, when all the other members are
useless, use our tongues in regretting their un-
fitness for their offices: as sick and old per-
Sons are Wont to do. Thus David here, as it
seems, under some bodily sickness, labors to
refrain his tongue, and lest it should prove
too strong for him, he puts a curb upon it:
though it did not free him from inward fret-
tings of his heart, yet he lays a restraint up-
on his tongue, to stay the progress of sin,
that grows in vigor by going out, and pro-
duces and begets sin of the same kind in the
hearts and mouths of others, when it passes
from the heart to the tongue. The Apostle
James does amply and excellently teach the
great importance of ordering the tongue in
all a Christian's life. But we are ever learn-
ing, and never taught. We hear how excel-
lent a guard this is to our lives, to keep awatch
Over our tongues; but, I fear, few of us gain
the real advantage of this rule. ‘We are far
from the serious thoughts that a religious
person had of this scripture, who, when he
heard it read, withdrew himselſ for many
years to the study of this precept, and made
very good proficiency in it.
In all the disorders of the world, the tongue
hath a great share. To let pass those irrup-
tions of infernal furies, blasphemies and curs-
ing, lying and uncharitable speeches, how
much have we to account for unprofitable
talking ! It is a lamentable thing, that there
is nothing, for the most part, in common en-
tertainments and societies of men together,
but refuse and trash ; as if their tongues
were given them for no other end than to be
their shame, by discovering their folly and
weakness | So likewise that of impatient
speech in trouble and affliction, which cer-
tainly springs from an unmortified spirit, that
hath learned nothing of that great lesson of
submission to the will of God. But for all
the disorders of the tongue, the remedy must
begin at the heart. Purge the fountain, and
then the streams will be clean. Keep thy
heart, and then it will be easy to keep thy
tongue. It is a great help in the quality of
speech, to abate in the quantity ; not to speak
rashly, but to ponder what we are going to
say. Set a watch before the door of thy lips.
Psalm czli. 3. He bids us not build it up like
a stone wall, that nothing may go in or come
out, but he speaks of a door, which may be
sometimes open, oft-times shut, but withal,
to have a watch standing before it continual-
ly. A Christian must labor to have his
speech as contracted as can be, in the things
of this earth; and even in divine things, our
words should be few and wary. In speaking
of the greatest things, it is a great point of
wisdom not to speak much. That is David's
resolution, to keep silence, especially before
the wicked, who came to visit him, probably,
when he was sick: while they were there, he
held a watch before his lips, to speak nothing
of God's hand on him, lest they should have
mistaken him. And a man may have some
thoughts of divine things, that it were very
impertinent to speak out indifferently to all
sorts even of good persons. This is a talka-
tive age, and people contract a faculty to
speak much in matters of religions, though
388
[LECT. II.
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
their words for the most part be only the pro-
ductions of their own brain; little of these
things in their hearts. Surely, speeches of
this kind are as bad as any, when holy things
are spoken of with a notional freedom, where
there is nothing but empty words. They
who take themselves to solitude, choose the
best and easiest part, if they have a warrant
so to do; for this world is a tempestuous sea,
in which there are many rocks, and a great
difficulty it is to steer this little helm aright
amidst them. However, the Apostle James
makes it a great character of a Christian's
perfection: If any man offend not in word,
the same is a perfect man. Jam. iii. 2. But
where is that man 2 Seeing we find men
generally, and most of all ourselves, so far
from this, it can not choose but work this, to
stir up ardent desires in us, to be removed to
that blessed society where there shall be
never a word amiss, nor a word too much.
sº-amsºmºsº
LECTURE II.
WER. 2. I was dumb with silence ; I held my peace
even from good; and my sorrow was stirred.
VER. 3. My heart was hot within me; while I was
musing, the fire burned : then spake I with my
tongue.
IT is a very useful and profitable thing, to
observe the motions and deportments of the
spirits of wise and holy men, in all the various
postures and conditions they are in. It is for
that purpose they are drawn out to us in the
Scriptures. There are some graces that are
more proper, and come more in action, in
times of ease and prosperity, such as temper-
ance, moderation of mind, humility, and com-
passion. Others are more proper for times of
distress, as faith, fortitude, patience, and res-
ignation. It is very expedient, if not necessa-
ry, that affliction have its turns, and frequent-
ly, in the lives of the children of God ; it is
the tempest, that gives evidence of the pilot's
skill. And as the Lord delighteth in all his
works, looks on the frame and conduct of all
things with pleasure, so he is delighted to
look on this part, on this low sea of troubles,
to see his champions meet with hard and
pressing trials, such as sometimes do not only
make them feel them, but do often make the
conflict dubious to them, so that they seem
to be almost foiled, yet do they acquit them-
selves, and come off with honor. It is not
the excellency of grace, to be insensible in
trouble (as some philosophers would have
their wise men), but to overcome and be vic-
torious.
Among the rest of this holy man's troubles,
this was one, that the wicked did reproach
him. This is a sharp arrow that flies thick
in the world. It is one of the sharpest stings
of poverty, that, as it is pinched with wants
at home, so it is met with scorn abroad. It
is reckoned among the sharp suffering, of holy
men, Heb. xi. 36, that they suffered bitter
mockings. Now, men commonly return these
in the same kind, that is, by the tongue,
whereof David is here aware. He refrains
himself even from good ; not only from his
just defence, but even from good and pious
discourses. We do so easily exceed in our
words, that it is better sometimes to be whol-
ly silent, than to speak that which is good :
for our good borders so near upon evil, and so
easy is the transition from the one to the other,
that though we begin to speak of God and
good things with a good intention, yet how
quickly run we into another channel ! Passion
and jº having stolen in, turn us quite from
the first design of our speech. And this chiefly
in disputes and debates about religion, where-
in, though we begin with zeal for God, yet,
oft-times in the end, we justify nothing but
our own passion ; and sometimes we do lie
one against another in defence of what we
call the truth.
It can not be denied, that to a holy heart,
it is a great violence to be shut up altogether
from the speech of God. It burns within,
especially in the time of affliction, as was the
case of Jeremiah: Then I said, I will not make
mention of him, nor speak any more in his
name : but his word was in my heart as a burn-
ing fire shut up in my bones, and I was weary
with forbearing, and could not stay. Jer. xx. 9.
So is it here with David ; therefore he breaks
Outi the fire burns upward, and he speaks to
God. *
Let this be our way, when we can not find
ease among men, to seek it in God. He knows
the language of his children, and will not
mistake it; yea, where there may be some-
what of weakness and distemper, he will bear
with it. In all your distresses, in all your
moanings, go to him, pour out your tears to
him. Not only fire, but even water, where it
wants a vent, will break upward. These
tears drop not in our own lap, but they fall on
his, and he hath a bottle to put them in : if ye
empty them there, they shall return in wine
of strong consolation.
Wer. 4. Now David's request is, Jord, make
me to know mine end, and the measure of my
days, what it is ; that I may know how frail I
am. In which he does not desire a response
from God about the day of his death, but in-
struction concerning the frailty and shortness
of his life. But did not David know this 2
Yes, he knew it, and yet he desires to know
it. It is very fit we should ask of God that
he would make us to know the things that
we do know ; I mean, that what we know
emptily and barely, we may know spiritually
and fruitfully, and if there be any measure of
this knowledge, that it may increase and grow
more. We know that we are sinners, but
that knowledge commonly produces nothing
but cold, dry, and senseless confusion : but
the right knowledge of sin would prick our
hearts, and cause us to pour them out before
the Lord. We know that Jesus is the Savior
VER. 2, 3.]
389
OF PSALM XXXIX.
of sinners; it were fit to pray that we might
know more of him, so much of him as might
make us shape and fashion our hearts to his
likeness. We know we must die, and that
it is no long course to the utmost period of
life; yet our hearts are little instructed by this
knowledge. How great need have we to pray
this prayer with David here, or that with
Moses, Teach us to number our days, that
we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. Psalm
xc. 12. , Did we indeed know and consider
how quickly we shall pass hence, it were
not possible for us to cleave so fast to the
things of this life, and, as foolish children, to
wade in ditches, and fill our laps with mire
and dirt ; to prefer base earth and flesh to
immortality and glory.
That I may know how frail I am..] Most
part of men are foolish, inconsiderate crea-
tures, like unto the very beasts that perish,
Psalm xlix. 12, only they are capable of great-
er vanity and misery; but, in as irrational a
way, they toil on and hurry themselves in a
multitude of business, by multitudes of desires,
fears, and hopes, and know not whither all
tends. But one well-advised thought of this
one thing, would temper them in their hottest
pursuits, if they would but think how frail
they are, how vain a passing thing, not only
these their particular desires and projects are,
but they themselves, and their whole life.
David prays that he may know his end, and
his prayer is answered ; Behold, thou hast
made my days as a hand-breadth. If we were
more in requests of this kind, we should re-
ceive more speedy and certain answers. If
this be our request, to know ourselves, our
frailties and vanity, we shall know that our
days are few and evil, know both the brevity
and vanity of them.
Wer. 5. Thou hast measured out my days
as a hand-breadth. That is one of the shortest
measures. We need not long lines to meas-
ure our lives by : each one carries a measure
about with him, his own hand; that is the
longest and fullest measure. It is not so much
as a span: that might possibly have been the
measure of old age in the infancy of the world,
but now it is contracted to a hand-breadth, and
that is the longest. But how many fall short
of that ' Many attain not to a finger-breadth:
multitudes pass from the womb to the grave;
and how many end their course within the
compass of childhood
Whether we take this hand-breadth for the
fourscore years that is ordinarily the utmost
extent of man's life in our days, or the four
periods of our age, in which we use to distin-
guish it, childhood, youth, manhood, and old
age, there are great numbers we see take up
their lodging ere they come near the last of
any of these, and few attain to the outmost
border of them. All of us are but a hand-
breadth from death, and not so much ; for
many of us have passed a great part of that
hand-breadth already, and we know not how
little of it is behind. We use commonly to
divide our lives by years, months, weeks, and
days, but it is all but one day; there is the
morning, noon, afternoon, and evening. Man
is as the grass that springs in the morning.
Psalm xc. 5. As for all the days that are
passed of our life, death hath them rather
than we, and they are already in its posses-
sion. When we look back on them, they ap-
pear but as a shadow or dream; and if they
be so to us, how much more short are they in
the sight of God . So says David here: When
I look on thee and thy eternity, mine age is
as nothing before thee. What is our life, be-
ing compared to God, before whom a thousand
wears are but as one day ! And it is less—like
*tºlºgy when it is past, and that is but a
thought ! The whole duration of the world
is but a point in respect to etermity; and how
small a point is the life of man, even in com-
parison with that
The brevity of our life is a very useful con-
sideration. From it we may learn patience
under all our crosses and troubles; they may
be shorter than life, but they can be no longer.
There are few whom an affliction hath lain
on all the days of their life ; but though that
were the case, yet a little time, and how
quickly is it done ! While thou art asleep,
there is a cessation of thy trouble; and when
awake, bemoaning and weeping for it, and
for sin that is the cause of it, in the mean
time it is sliding away. In all the bitter blasts
that blow on thy face, thou who art a Chris-
tian indeed, mayst comfort thyself in the
thought of the good lodging that is before
thee. To others, it were the greatest com-
fort, that their afflictions in this life were
lengthened out to etermity.
Likewise, this may teach us temperance in
those things that are called the good things of
this world. Though a man had a lease of all
the fine things the world can afford for his
whole life (which yet never any man that I
know of had), what is it ! . A feigned dream
of an hour long. None of those things that
it now takes so much delight it, will accom-
pany the cold lump of clay to the grave.
Within a little while, those that are married
and rejoice, shall be as if they rejoiced not,
1 Cor. vii. 29, as if they never, had done it;
and since they shall be so quickly, a wise man
makes little difference, in these things, be-
tween their presence and their absence.
This thought should also teach us diligence
in our business. We have a short day, and
much to do ; it were fit to be up early ; to re-
member thy Creater in the days of thy youth.
And ye that are come to riper years, be ad-
vised to lay hold on what remains; ye know
not how little it is. g
The more you fill yourselves with the things
of this life, the less desire you will have after
those rivers of pleasure that are at God's right
ſhand. These shall never run dry, but all
those other things shall be dried up within a
little space; at the furthest, when old age and
death come, if not sooner. And on the other
390
[LECT. II.
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
side, the more we deny ourselves the sensual
enjoyments of the present world, we grow
the liker to that Divine estate, and are made
the surer of it. And I am sure, all will grant
that this is a very gainful exchange.
Verily, every man at his best estate is al-
together vanity.] It is no wonder that the
generality of men are strangers to God, for
they are strangers to themselves. The cure
of both these evils is from the same hand.
He alone can teach us what he is, and what
we are ourselves. All know and see that
their life is short, and themselves vanity; but
this holy man thought it needful to ask the
true notion of it from above, and he receives
the measure of his life, even a hand-breadth.
There is a common imposture among people,
to read their fortunes by their hands: but this
is true palmistry indeed, to read the shortness
of our life upon the palms of our hands.
Our days are not only few, but we our-
selves are vanity. Every man, even a godly
man, as he is a partaker of this life, is not
exempted from vanity : nay, he knows it bet-
ter than any other : but this thought comforts
him, that he hath begun that life which is
above and beyond all vanity. The words are
weighty and full. It is not a problem, or a
doubtful thing, but, surely, every man is vani-
ty. I may call it a definition, and so it is
proved, Psalm crliv. 2, 3: What is man 2 He
is like to vanity, and his days are as a shadow
that passes away. His days do not only soon
decline and pass away as a shadow, but also
they are like vanity. While he appears to be
something, he is nothing but the figure and
picture of vanity. He is like it, not the copy
of it, but rather the original and idea of it, for
he hath derived vanity to the whole creation:
he hath subjected the creatures to it, and hath
thrown such a load of it upon them, that they
groan under it; and so, vanity agrees to him
properly, constantly, and universally. Every
man, and that at his best estate, or, as the
word is, in his settled and fixed state. Set
him as sure and as high as you will, yet he
is not above that ; he carried it about with
him as he does his nature.
This is a very profitable truth to think on,
though some kind of hearers, even of the bet-
ter sort, would judge it more profitable to
hear of cases of conscience. But this is a
great case of conscience, to consider it well,
and carry the impression of it home with you
on your hearts—the extreme vanity of our-
selves; that we are nothing but vanity. And
the note that is added here, Selah, if it import
port anything to the sense and confirmation of
what it is added to, it agrees well to this; but if
it be only a musical note, to direct, as some
think, the elevation, or according to others, the
falling of the voice, it fits the sense very well.
For you have man here lifted up and cast
down again : lifted up—Man at his best es-
tate, and from that thrown down to nothing,
even in that estate, altogether vanity. What
is that ? It is, as the word signifies, an earth-
ly vapor, and it is generally used to signify
§ of the least and meanest use, the most
empty, airy things. So idols are often called
by that name: they are nothing in respect of
what is attributed to them by the children of
men. And such a thing is man : he seems to
be something, and is, indeed, nothing: as it is
Psalm lxii. 9: Men of low degree are vanity
—possibly that may be granted for a truth,
and they pass for such, but he adds—Men of
high degree are a lie; they promise some-
thing, and look bigger like, but they are noth-
ing more, except this, a lie ; and the greater
they are, the louder the lie.
This it is, then, that we should acquaint
ourselves with : that man, in this present
life, in all the high advantages of it, is an
empty, feeble, fading thing. If we look to
the frame of man’s body, what is he but a
muddy wall, a house of clay, whose founda-
tion is in the dust 2 If we look within, there
is nothing there but a sink and heap of filth.
The body of man is not only subject to fevers,
hectics, &c., that make the wall to moulder
down, but take him in his health and strength,
what is he but a bag of rottenness? And why
should he take delight in his beauty, which
is but the appearance of a thing, which a fit
of sickness will so easily deface, or the run-
ning of a few years spoil the fashion of ? ...A
great heat or a cold puts that frame into dis-
order; a few days' sickness lays him in the
dust, or much blood gathered within, gathers
fevers and pleurisies, and so destroys that life
it should maintain ; or a fly or a crumb of
bread may stop his breath, and so end his days.
If we consider men in societies, in cities
and towns, often hath the overflowing scourge
of famine and pestilence laid them waste;
and from these they can not secure them-
selves in their greatest plenty and health, but
they come on a sudden, and unlooked for. If
we could see all the parts and persons in a
great city at once, how many woes and mis-
eries should we behold there ! How many
either want bread, or scarcely have it by hard
labor . Then, to hear the groans of dying per-
sons, and the sighs and weepings of those
about them—how many of these things are
within the walls of great cities at all times 1
Great palaces can not keep out death, but it
breaks through and enters there, and thither,
oft-times, the most painful and shameful dis-
eases that are incident to the sons of men, re-
sort, Death by vermin, hath seized on some
of the greatest of kings that have ever been in
the world. If we look on generals who have
commanded the greatest armies, they carry
about with them poorfrail bodies as well as oth-
ers; they may be killed with one small wound
as well as the meanest soldier; and a few days'
intemperance hath taken some of the most
gallant and courageous of them away in the
midst of their success. And, sure I am, he
who believes and considers the life to come,
and looks on this, and sees what it is, makes
little account of those things that have so big
VER. 6.]
391
ON PSALM XXXIX.
a sound in the world: the revolutions of states,
crowns, kingdoms, cities, towns, how poor, in-
considerable things are they, being compared
with etermity And he that looks not on them
as such, is a fool.
LECTURE III.
VER. 6. Surely every man walketh in a vain show ;
surely they are disquieted in vain: he heapeth up
riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them.
THERE is a part of our hand-breadth past
since we last left this place, and, as we are say-
ing this, we are wearing out some portion of
the rest of it. It were well if we considered
this, so as to make a better improvement of
what remains, than, I believe we shali find,
upon examination of our ways, we have made
of what is past. Let us see if we can gain
the space of an hour, that we may be excited
to a better management of the latter part of
our time, than we have made of the former.
We are all, I think, convinced of the vanity
of man, as to his outside, that he is a feeble,
weak, poor creature ; but we may have hope
of somewhat better in that which is the man
indeed, his mind and intellectual part. It is
true, that that was originally excellent, and
that there is somewhat of a radical excellency
still in the soul of man; yet, it is so desper-
ately degenerate, that, naturally, man, even
in that consideration, is altogether vanity, in
all the pieces of him : his mind is but a
heap of Vanity, nothing there but igno-
rance, folly, and disorder. And if we think
not so, we are the more foolish and ignorant.
That which passes with great pomp, under
the title of learning and science, is commonly
nothing else than a rhapsody of words and
empty terms, which have nothing in them
to make known the internal nature of things.
But even those persons who have the im-
provement of learning and education, who
understand the model and government of af.
fairs, who see their defects, and entertain
themselves with various shapes of amending
and reforming them, even in them we shall
find nothing but a sadder and more seri-
ous vanity. It is a tormenting and vexing
thing for men to promise to themselves great
reformation and bettering of things. That
thought usually deludes the wisest of men;
they must at length come to that conclusion
of Solomon, after much labor to little pur-
pose, that crooked things can not be made
straight, Eccles. i. 15. Yea, many things
grow worse by laboring to rectify them ;
therefore he adds, verse 18, And he that in-
creaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow.
As for knowledge in religion, we see the
greatest part of the world lying in gross dark-
ness; and even among Christians, how much
ignorance of these things: which appears in
this, that there are such swarms and produc-
tions of debates and contentions, that they are
grown past number. And each party is con-
fident that truth is on his side; and ordinarily
the most ignorant and erroneous are the most
confident and most imperious in their deter-
minations. Surely it were a great part of our
wisdom to free our spirits from these empty
fruitless janglings that abound in the Chris-
tian world.
It were an endless toil to go through all de-
grees, professions, and employments of men
in the world ; we may go through nations,
countries, crafts, schools, colleges, courts,
camps, councils of state, and parliaments, and
find nothing in all these but still more of this
trouble and vexation in a finer dress and fash-
ion, altogether vanity /
Every man walketh in a vain show.] . His
walk is nothing but a going on in continual
vanity, adding a new stock of vanity, of his
own coining, to what he has already within,
and vexation of spirit woven all along in with
it. He walks in an image, as the word is ;
converses with things of no reality, and which
have no solidity in them, and he himself has
as little. He himself is a walking image, in
the midst of these images. They who are
taken with the conceit of images and pictures,
that is an emblem of their own life, and of all
other men's also. Every man's fancy is to
himself a gallery of pictures, and there he
walks up and down, and considers not how
vain these are, and how vain a thing he him-
self is.
My brethren, they are happy persons (but
few are they in number), who are truly wean-
ed from all those images and fancies the
world dotes so much upon. If many of the
children of men would turn their own thoughts
backward in the evening but of one day, what
would they find for the most part, but that
they have been walking among these pic-
tures, and passing from one vanity to anoth-
er, and back again to and fro, to as little pur-
pose as the running up and down of children
at their play ! He who runs after honor,
pleasure, popular esteem,--what do you
think 2 Does not that man walk in an
image, pursuing after that which hath no
other being than what the opinion and fancy
of men give to it?—especially the last, which
is a thing so fluctuating, uncertain, and incon-
stant, that while he hath it, he hath nothing 2
The other image that man follows and wor-
ships, is that in the text, that wretched mad-
ness of heaping up riches. This is the great
foolishness and disease especially of old age,
that the less way a man has to go, he makes
the greater provision for it. When the hands
are stiff, and fit for no other labor, they are
fitted and composed for scraping together.
But for what end dost thou take alſ this pains?
If for thyself, a little sober care will do thy
turn, if thy desires be sober; and if not so, thy
diligence were better bestowed in impairing
and diminishing of these ; that is the easier
way a great deal. And if it be for others,
why dost thou take a certain unease to thy-
self, for the uncertain ease of others ? And
392
[LECT. IV.
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
who these are thou dost not know; may be,
such as thou didst never intend them for. It
were good we used more easy and undistract-
ing diligence for the increasing of those treas-
ures which we can not deny are far better,
and whosoever hath them may abound there-
in with increase ; he knows well for whom
he gathers them ; he himself shall possess
them through all eternity.
If there were not a hope beyond this life,
there were reason for that passionate word in
Psalm lxxxix. 47: Why hast thou made all
men in vain 2. To what purpose were it for
poor wretched man to have been all his days
tossed upon the waves of vanity, and then to
lie down in the grave, and be no more heard
of 2 But it is not so : he is made capable of
a noble and blessed life beyond this ; and our
forgetfulness of this is the cause of all our
misery and vanity here.
It is a great folly to complain of the short-
ness of our life, and yet to lavish it out so
prodigally on trifles and shadows. If it were
well managed, it would be sufficient for all
we have to do. The only way to live indeed,
is to be doing service to God and good to men:
this is to live much in a little time. But when
we play the fool in mispending our time, it
may be indeed a sad thought to us, when we
find it gone, and we are benighted in the dark
So far from our home. But those that have
their souls untied from this world and knit to
God, they need not complain of the shortness
of it, having laid hold on eternal life. For
this life is flying away, there is no laying
hold on it; and it is no matter how soon it go
away ; the sooner the better, for to such per-
sons it seems rather to go too slow.
*mºmºmºsº
LECTURE IV.
VER. 7. And now, Lord, what wait I for ? My hope
is in thee,
To entertain the minds of men with thoughts
of their own vanity, and discourses of their
own misery, seems to be sad and unpleasant;
but certainly it is not unprofitable, unless it be
our own choice to make it so, and that were
the greatest vanity and misery of all. Indeed,
if there were no help for this sore evil, then
the common shift were not to be blamed, yea,
it were to be chosen as the only help in such
a desperate case, not to think on it, to forget
our misery, and to divert our thoughts from it
by all possible means, rather than to increase
it, and torment ourselves by insisting and po-
ring on it; and in that case shallow minds
would have the advantage, that could not con-
verse with these sad thoughts, for to increase
this knowledge were but to increase sorrow.
But far be it from us thus to determine: there
is a hope which is a help to this evil, and this
is what this holy man fixes on: And now,
Lord, my hope is in thee. Otherwise, it were
visible creation should be made subject to the
most incurable unhappiness; to feel misery
which he can not shun, and to be tormented
with desires that can not be satisfied. But
there is some better expectation for the souls
of men, and it is no other than HIMSELF who
made them.
The wisest natural men have discoursed of
man's vanity, and passionately bemoaned it :
but in this they have fallen short, how to
remedy it. They have aimed at it, and come
near it, but have not been able to work it :
they still labored to be satisfied in themselves,
They speak somewhat of reason, but that will
not do it; for man being fallen under the curse
of God, there is nothing but darkness and
folly in himself. The only way to blessedness
is by going out of ourselves unto God.
All our discourses of our own vanity will
but further disquiet us, if they do not termi-
nate here, if they do not fix on his eternal
happiness, goodness, and Verity.
I am persuaded, if many would ask this
question of themselves, What wait I for 2
they would puzzle themselves and not find
an answer. There are a great many things
that men desire and are gaping after, but few
seek after one thing chiefly and stayedly:
they float up and down, and are carried about
without any certain motion, but by fancy and
by guess; and no wind can be fair for such
persons, who aim at no certain haven.
If we put this question to ourselves, What
would I have 2 it were easy for many to an-
swer——I would have an easy, quiet, peace-
able life in this world. So would an ox
or a horse. And is that all ? May be you
would have a greater height of pleasure and
honor. But think on this one thing: there is
this one crack and vanity that spoils all these
things, that they will not bear you up when
you lean to them in times of distress; and
besides, when you have them they may be
pulled from you, and if not, you must be
plucked away from them within a little
while. There is much seeming content in
the pursuit of these things, but they are lost
with greater discontent. It is God's good-
ness to men, to blast all things in the world
to them, and to break their fairest hopes,
that they may be constrained to look above
to himself: he beats them from all shores,
that he may bring them to the Rock that is
higher than they. Psalm lxi. 2.
Oh, that God would once touch some of
your hearts, who are under the chains of
darkness, that ye might once bethink where
to rest your heads in the midst of all our con-
fusions. And here is the resting-place; hope
in God. Now, Lord, what wait I for 2 My
hope is in thee. Blessed soul that can say,
“Lord, thou seest I desire nothing but thy-
self (as Peter said, Lord, thou knowest I love
thee); all the corners of my heart stand open
in thy sight; thou seest if there be any other
desire or expectation but to please thee; and
strange that the most excellent piece of the if there be any such thing in me (for I see it
WEE 7.’
393
ON PSALM XXXIX.
not), I pray thee discover it to me, and
through thy grace it shall lodge no longer.
My heart is thine alone, it is consecrated to
thee ; and if anything would profane thy
temple, if it will not go forth by fair warning,
let it be scourged out by thy rod, yea by any
rod whatsoever it pleaseth thee to choose.”
My hope is in thee..] This holy man, seeing
the vanity of all other expectations and pur-
suits of men, at length runs to this: And now,
Lord, what wait I for 2 My hope is in thee.
He finds nothing but moving sand every-
where else; but he finds this Eternal Rock to
be a strong foundation, as the Hebrew word
by which he is styled doth signify. It is
true, the union of the heart with God is made
up by faith and love ; but yet both these, in
this our present condition of absence and dis-
tance from God, do act themselves much by
the third grace which is joined with them,
and that is hope. For faith is conversant
about things that are not seen, and in a great
part, that are not as yet, but are to come ; and
the spirit of faith, choosing things that are to
come, is called hope. It is true they are not
so wholly deferred, as that they possess noth-
ing ; but yet the utmost they possess is but a
pledge and earnest-penny, a small thing in
respect of that eternal inheritance they look
for. What they have here is of the same
kind with what they expect, but it is but a
little portion of it; the smiles and glances of
their Father's face, foretastes of heaven,
which their souls are refreshed with. But
these are but rare, and for a short time.
Hope is the great stock of believers: it is
that which upholds them under all the faint-
ings and sorrows of their mind in this life,
and in their going through the valley and
shadow of death. It is the helmet of their
salvation, which, while they are looking over
to etermity, beyond this present time, covers
and keeps their head safe amid all the darts
that fly round about them. In the present
discomfort and darkness of mind, and the
saddest hours they meet with in this life,
hope is that which keeps up the soul; and it
is that which David cheered up his soul with,
Psalm xlii. 5. Why art thou cast down, O
my soul, and why art thou disquieted in me 2
Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him
or the help of his countenance. And even
in this point the children of the world have
no great advantage of the children of God,
as to the things of this life; for much of their
satisfaction, such as it is, doth hang, for the
most part, on their hope; the happiest and
richest of them do still piece it out with
Some further expectation, something they
look for beyond what they have, and the ex-
pectation of that pleases them more than all
their present possessions. But this great dis-
advantage they have, that all their hopes are
but heaps of delusions and lies, and either
they die and obtain them not, or if they do
obtain them, yet they obtain them not; they
are so far short of what they fancied and ima-
gined of them beforehand. But the hope of
the children of God, as it is without fail sure,
so it is inconceivably full and satisfying, far
beyond what the largest apprehension of any
man is able to reach. Hope in God ' What
is wanting there ?
This hope lodges only in the pure heart: it
is a precious liquor that can be kept only in
a clean vessel, and that which is not so can
not receive it, but what it seems to receive it
corrupts and destroys. It is a confidence ari-
sing from peace, agreement, and friendship,
which can not subsist between the God of
purity and those who allow unholiness in
themselves. It is a strange impudence for
men to talk of their trust and hope in God,
who are in perfect hostility against him.
Bold fellows go through dangers here, but it
will not be so hereafter. Jer. ii. 27. They
turn to me the back, and not the face ; yet, in
their trouble, they say, Arise and save us :
they do it as cº; as if they never had
despised God, but they mistake the matter;
it is not so. Go and cry, says he, to the gods
whom ye have chosen. Judg. x. 14. When
men come to die, then they catch hold of the
mercy of God; but from that their filthy
hands are beat off, there is no help for
them there, and so they fall down to the pit.
A holy fear of God, and a happy hope in him,
are commonly linked together. Behold the
eye of the Lord is upon them that fear him,
upon them that hope in his mercy. Psalm
xxxiii. 19.
And even in those who are more purified
from sin, yet too large draughts of lawful
pleasures do clog the spirits, and make this
hope grow exceedingly weak. Surely the
more we fill ourselves with these things, we
leave the less appetite for the consolations
of this blessed hope. They can not know
the excellency of this hope, who labor not
to keep it unmixed : it is best alone, as the
richest wines and oils, which are the worst
of mixtures. Be sober and hope, says the
apostle Peter, 1 Epistle i. 13 : keep your
mind sober, and your hope shall be pure. If
any thing or person leans on two supporters,
whereof the one is whole and sound, and the
other broken or crooked, that which is un-
sound will break, though the other remain
whole, and that which was propped up by it
will fall; whereas the One that was whole
had been sufficient: thus it is when we di-
vide our hopes between God and this present
world, or any other good. Those who place
their whole hopes on God, they gather in all
their desires to him ; the streams of their aſ-
fections are not scattered and left in the mud-
dy ditches of the world, they do not fall into
stinking pools, but being gathered into one
main torrent, they run on in that channel to
the sea of his eternal goodness.
My hope is in thee..] We can not choose but
all of us think that God is immensely good in
himself; but that which is nearer, whereon
our hearts most rise, is a relative goodness,
50
394
[LECT. W.
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
that he isgood to us, and that he is so perfectly
and completely good, that having made choice
of him, and obtained union with him, we
need no more. Were once the hearts of the
children of men persuaded of this, all their
deliberations were at an end : they would not
only choose no other, but defer no longer to
fix on him. And what can trouble the soul
that is thus established ? Nor change or over-
turning of outward things. Though the frame
of the world itself were shaken to pieces, yet
still the bottom of this hope is upon him who
changeth, not. And whatever the pressures
be, whether poverty, sickness, or disquiet of
mind, thou mayest draw abundant consolation
from him in whom thou hast placed thy hope.
There is only one thing that cruelly assaults
it by the way, and that is the guilt of sin.
All afflictions and troubles we meet with are
not able to mar this hope or quench it, for
where it is strong, it either breaks through
them or flies above them : they can not over-
come it, for there is no affliction inconsistent
with the love of God; yea, the sharpest afflic-
tion may sometimes have the clearest char-
acters of his love upon it. But it is sin that
presents him as angry to the view of the soul.
When he looks through that cloud, he seems
to be an enemy; and when we apprehend him
in that aspect, we are affrighted, and present-
ly apprehend a storm. But even in this case,
this hope apprehends his mercy. And thus
David here.
LECTURE W.
WER. 8. Deliver me from all my transgressions: make
me not the reproach of the foolish.
THIS is indeed the basis and foundation of
all our other hopes, the free pardon of our
sins. But none must entertain those sins, if
they desire to be pardoned. Repentance and
remission of sins are still linked together in
the Scriptures; and he that would have sin
pardoned, and yet live in it, or retain the love
of it, would have God and sin reconciled to-
gether, and that can never be. David finds
his sins pressing him down ; he sees them as
an army of men set in battle array about him;
and whither flies he for deliverance? Even
to him whom he had offended.
Wer. 9, 10. I was dumb, I opened not my
mouth, because thou didst it. Remove thy
stroke away from me : I am consumed by the
blow of thy hand.] We are naturally very
partial judges of ourselves: and, as if we
were not sufficiently able by nature, we study
and devise by art to deceive ourselves. We
are ready to reckon any good that is in us to
the full, nay, to multiply it beyond what it is ;
and further to help this, we use commonly to
look on those who have less goodness in them,
who are weaker, more foolish, and worse
than ourselves; and so we magnify the sense
of our own worth and goodness by that com-
parison. And as in the goodness we have, or
imagine we have, so likewise in the evils we
suffer, we use to extol them very much in
conceit. We account our lightest afflictions
very great ; and to heighten our thoughts of
them, we do readily take a view of those who
are more at ease and less afflicted than our-
selves; and by these devices we nourish in
ourselves pride, by the overweening conceit
of our goodness, and impatience, by the over-
feeling sense of our evils. But if we would
help ourselves by comparison, we should do
well to view those persons who are, or have
been, eminent for holiness, recorded in Holy
Writ, or whom we know in our own times,
or have heard of in former times; and by this
means, we should lessen the great opinion we
have of our own worth. And so likewise
should we consider the many instances of
great calamities and sorrows, which would
tend to quiet our minds, and enable us to pos-
sess our souls in patience, under the little bur-
den of trials that lies upon us. And, espe-
cially, we shall find those instances to fall in
together, that as persons have been very em-
inent in holiness, they have also been emi-
ment in suffering very sore strokes and sharp
scourges from the hand of God. If we would
think on their consuming blows and broken
bones, their bones burnt as a hearth, and their
flesh withered as grass, certainly we should
entertain our thoughts sometimes with won-
der at God’s indulgence to us, that we are so
little afflicted, when so many of the children
of men, and so many of the children of God,
suffer so many and so hard things; and this
would very much add to the stock of our
praises. We should not think that we are
more innocent in not deserving those things
that are inflicted on others, but rather, that
he who thus measures out to them and to us,
knows our size, and sees how weak we are
in comparison of them ; and that therefore he
is indulgent to us, not because we are better,
but because we are weaker, and are not able
to bear so much as he lays on the stronger
shoulders. Even in the sharpest of these rods
there is mercy. It is a privilege to the sheep
that is ready to wander, to be beaten into the
right way. When thou art corrected, think
that thereby thy sins are to be purged out,
thy passions and lusts to be crucified by these
pains; and certainly, he that finds any cure
of the evils of his spirit by the hardest suffer-
ings of his flesh, gets a very gainful bargain.
If thou account sin thy greatest unhappiness
and mischief, thou wilt be glad to have it re-
moved on any terms. There is at least in the
time of affliction, a cessation from some sins;
the raging lust of ambition and pride doth
cease, when a man is laid upon his back ; and
these very cessations are some advantages.
But there is one great benefit of affliction,
which follows in the text, that it gives him
the true measure of himself.
Wer. 11. When with rebukes thou dost cor-
WER. 12.]
395
ON PSALM XXXIX.
rect man for iniquity, thou makest his beau- |
ty to consume away like a moth : surely every
man is vanity, Selah..] Man, at his best estate,
is altogether vanity: but at its lowest estate,
it appears best unto him, how much vanity
he is, and how much vanity he was at his
best estate, seeing he was then capable of
such a change, to fall so low from such a
height. As that great man who was seeking
new conquests, when he fell upon the sand,
and saw the print of his own body, “Why,”
says he, “so small a parcel of earth will
serve me, who am seeking after new king-
doms "-thus it is, when a man is brought
down, then he hath the right measure of
himself, when he sees how vain a thing he is.
Thus the psalmist represents it here both
as an argument to move God to compassion,
and to instruct himself and other men. So Job
xiii. 25: Wilt thou break a leaf driven to and
fro with the wind 2 and wilt thou pursue dry
stubble 2 And Psalm ciii. 14 : For he knoweth
our frame : he remembereth that we are dust.
And his beauty, which seemed to be his per-
fection, yet, when the hand of God is on him,
it is blasted as a moth-eaten garment. This
should teach us humility, and to beware of
sin, which provokes God to pour out his heavy
judgments upon us. If any be proud of honor,
let him remember Nebuchadnezzar and Herod
—or if proud of riches, or of wit and endow-
ments of mind, let him think how soon God
can make all these to wither and melt away.
Surely, every man is vanity.
Wer. 12. Hear my prayer, O Lord, and give
car to my cry 5 hold not thy peace at my tears ;
for I am a stranger with thee, and a sojourn-
er, as all my fathers were.] What is this life
we cleave so fast to, and are so uneasy to
hear at parting with, what is it but a trance,
and a succession of sorrows, a weary tossing
and tottering upon the waves of vanity and
misery 3 No estate or course of life is ex-
empted from the causes of this complaint:
the poorer and meaner sort are troubled with
wants, and the richer with the care of what
they have, and sometimes with the loss of it ;
and the middle sort between the two, they
artake, in common, of the vexations of both,
or their life is spent in care for keeping what
they have, and in turmoil for purchasing more;
beside a world of miseries and evils that are
incident equally to all sorts of men, such as
sickness and pain of body, which is both a
sharp affliction, and sits close to a man, and
which he is least able, either by strength of
mind, or by any art or rule, to bear ; and this
guest does as often haunt palaces as poor cot-
tages; there are as many groans of sick and
diseased bodies within silken curtains, as in
the meanest lodging. Neither does godliness
exempt the best of men from the sufferings
of this life. David, who was both a great
man and a good man, did share deeply in
these, so that his conclusion still holds truth;
no instance can be found to infringe it: Sure-
ly every man is altogether vanity.
It remains only to inquire, what manner of
men they are who are furnished with the best
helps, and with the most comfortable mitiga-
tions of their trouble, and with the strongest
additions of support and strength to bear them
up under it. And it will certainly be found
that godliness alone hath this advantage.
And among the many consolations godly men
have under their troubles, this is one, and the
chief one, their recourse unto prayer. So
here, and Psalm cylii. 4, 5. So Isa. xxxviii.
2: Hezekiah turned his face toward the wall:
he turns his back on all worldly counsels and
vain helps, and betakes himself to prayer ;
and prayer brings ease, and support, and sea-
sonable deliverance, to the godly man. But
their sorrows shall be multiplied that hasten
after other gods ; Psalm xvi. 4; and this, all
ungodly men do when they are afflicted : they
run to other imaginary helps of their own,
and those prove but He multipliers of sor-
rows, and add to their torment; they are mis-
erable or troublesome comforters, like unskil-
ful physicians, who add to the patient's pain,
by nauseous, ill-chosen, and, it may be, per-
nicious drugs.
Now, in this prayer of David, we find three
things, which are the chief qualifications of
all acceptable prayers. The first is humility.
He humbly confesses his sins, and his own
weakness and worthlessness. We are not to
put on a stoical, flinty kind of spirit under our
afflictions, that so we may seem to shun wo-
manish repinings and complaints, lest we run
into the other evil, of despising the hand of
God, but we are to humble our proud hearts,
and break our unruly passions. There is
something of this in the nature of affliction it-
self: as in the daytime men are abroad, but
the night draws them home, so in the day of
prosperity, men run out after vanities and
pleasures, and when the dark night of afflic-
tion comes, then men should come home, and
wisely lay the matter to heart. It is meet
we humble ourselves under the mighty hand
of God. It is meet to say unto him, as Job
xxxiv. 31, I have been chastised, or have borne
chastisement, and I will not offend any more.
That is a kind of language that makes the
rod fall out of his hand. That prayer ascends
highest which comes from the lowest depth
of an humbled heart. But God resists the
proud ; he proclaims himself an enemy to
pride and stiffness of spirit; but his grace
seeks the humble heart, as water does the
low ground.
If a holy heart be the temple of God, and
therefore a house of prayer, certainly, when
it is framed and builded for such, the founda-
tion of that temple is laid in deep humility;
otherwise, no prayers that are offered up in
it have the smell of pleasing incense to him.
The second qualification of this prayer is
fervency and importunity, which appears in
the elegant gradation of the words: Hear my
prayer, my words; if not that, yet, Give ear
to my cry, which is louder; and if that pre-
396
[LEct. VI.
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
Vail not, yet, Hold not thy peace at my tears,
which is the loudest of all ; so David, else-
Where, calls it the voice of his weeping.
Though this gift of tears doth often flow from
the natural temper, yet where that temper
becomes spiritual and religious, it proves a
singular instrument of repentance and prayer.
But yet there may be a very great height of
piety and godly affections where tears are
wanting ; yea, this defect may proceed from a
singular sublimity of religion in their souls,
being acted more in the upper region of the
intellectual mind, and so not communicating
much with the lower affections, or these ex-
pressions of them. We are not to judge of
our spiritual proficiency by the gift of prayer,
for the heart may be very spiritually affected,
where there is no readiness or volubility of
words. The sure measure of our growth is
to be had from our holiness, which stands in
this, to see how our hearts are crucified to
the world, and how we are possessed with
the love of God, and with ardent longings af.
ter union with him, and dwelling in his pres-
ence hereafter, and in being conformed to his
will here.
It is the greatest folly imaginable in some
to shed tears for their sins, and within a little
while to return to them again; they think
there is some kind of absolution in this way
of easy venting themselves by tears in prayer,
and when a new temptation returns, they ea-
sily yield to it. This is lightness and foolish-
ness, like the inconstancy of a woman who
entertains new lovers in her mourning appar-
el, having expressed much sorrow and grief
for her former husband.
Now, fervency in prayer hath in it, 1st,
Attentiveness of mind. If the mind be not
present, it is impossible that much of the
heart and affections can be there. How shall
we think that God will hear those prayers
which we do not hear ourselves 2 And shall
we think them worthy of his acceptance,
that are not worthy of our thoughts 2 Yet
we should not leave off prayer because of
the wanderings of our hearts in it, for that
is the very design of the devil, but still we
must continue in it, and amend this fault as
much as we can ; by remembering, in the
entry, with whom we have to do, by freeing
our minds as much as may be from the en-
tanglements and multiplicity of business, and
by laboring to have our thoughts often in
heaven. For where the heart is much, it
will be ever and anon turning thitherward,
without any difficulty.
2dly, Fervency of prayer hath in it an in-
tense bent of the affections: to have our de-
sires as ardent as can be for the pardon of
sin, for the mortifying of our lusts and pas-
sions, for the delivering us from the love of
ourselves and this present world; and for
such spiritual things to pray often, and to fol-
low it with importunity... That is to pray
fervently, never to rest till an answer come.
The third qualification is faith. He who
comes to God must believe that he is, and that
he is a rewarder of all that diligently seek
him. Heb. xi. 6. And certainly, as he that
comes to God must believe this, so he that
believes this, can not but come to God: and
if he be not presently answered, he that be-
lieves makes no haste—he resolves patiently
to wait for the Lord, and to go to no other.
Surely, there is much to be had in prayer.
All good may be obtained, and all evil avert-
ed by it; yea, it is a reward to itself. It is
the greatest dignity of the creature, to be ad-
mitted to converse with God. And certainly,
the soul that is much in prayer, grows in pu-
rity, and is raised by prayer to the despising
of all those things that the world admires
and is in love with, and by a wonderful way
is conformed to the likeness of God.
For I am a stranger with thee, and a so-
journer, as all my fathers were.] In the
law, God recommends strangers to the care
and compassion of his people; now David
returns the argument to him, persuade him to
deal kindly with him: “For I am a stranger
with thee, that is, before thee—in this world
wherein thou hast appointed me to sojourn a
few days. And I betake myself to thy pro-
tection in this strange country; I seek shel-
ter under the shadow of thy wings: there-
fore, have compassion upon me.” He that
looks on himself as a stranger, and is sensi-
ble of the darkness both round about him in
this wilderness, and also within him, will of
ten put up that request with David, Psalm
cxix. 19, I am a stranger on this earth ; hide
not thy commandments from me—do not let
me lose my way. And as we should use this
argument to persuade God to look down up-
on us, so likewise, to persuade ourselves to
send up our hearts and desires to him. What
is the joy of our life, but the thoughts of that
other life, our home, before us? And, cer-
tainly, he that lives much in these thoughts,
set him where you will here, he is not much
pleased or displeased ; but if his Father call
him home, that word gives him his heart's
desire.
LECTURE WI.
VER. 13. O spare me, that I may recover strength,
bcfore I go hence, and be no more.
WHY is it that we do not extremely hate
that which we so desperately love, sin 2
For the deformity of itself is unspeakable:
and, besides, it is the cause of all our woes.
Sin hath opened the sluices, and lets in all
the deluge of sorrows which makes the life
of poor man nothing else than vanity and
misery, so that the meanest, orator in the
world may be eloquent enough on that sub-
ject. What is our life, but a continual suc-
cession of many deaths 2 Though we should
say nothing of all the bitterness and vexa-
WER. 12.]
397
ON PSALM XXXIX.
tions that are hatched under the sweetest
pleasures, in the world, this one thing is
enough, the multitude of diseases and pains,
the variety of distempers, that those houses
we are lodged in are exposed to. Poor crea-
tures are oft-times tossed between two, the
fear of death, and the tediousness of life;
and under these fears they can not tell which
to choose. Holy men are not exempted from
Some apprehensions of God's displeasure be-
cause of their sins; and that may make them
cry out with David, O spare me, that I may
recover strength, before I go hence, and be
no more. Or, perhaps, this may be a desire,
not so much simply for the prolonging of
life, as for the intermitting of his pain, to
have ease from the present smart. The ex-
treme torment of some sickness, may draw
the most fixed and confident spirits to cry out
very earnestly for a little breathing. Or rath-
er, if the words imply the desire of a recov-
ery, and the spinning out of the thread of
his life a little longer, surely he intended to
employ it for God and his service. But long
life was suitable to the promises of that time:
so Hezekiah, Isa. xxxviii. 5. There is no
doubt those holy men under the law, knew
somewhat of the state of immortality; their
calling themselves strangers on earth (Heb.
xi. 13), argued that they were no strangers
to these thoughts. But it can not be denied,
that that doctrine was but darkly laid out in
those times. It is Christ Jesus who hath
brought life and immortality to light, who
did illuminate life and immortality, which
before stood in the dark.
Surely, the desire of life is, for the most
part, sensual and base, when men desire that
they may still enjoy their animal pleasures,
and are loath to be parted from them. They
are pleased to term it, a desire to live and re-
º ; and yet few do it when they are spared :
ike evil debtors, who desire forbearance
from one term to another; but with no de-
sign at all to pay. But there is a natural
desire of life, something of abhorrence in
nature against the dissolution of these taber-
nacles. We are loath to go forth, like chil-
dren who are afraid to walk in the dark, not
knowing what may be there. In some, such
a desire of life may be very reasonable ; be-
ing surprised by sickness, and apprehensions
of death, and sin unpardoned, they may de-
sire a little time before they enter into eter-
nity. For that change is not a thing to be
hazarded upon a few days or hours' prepara-
tion. I will not say that death-bed repent-
ance is altogether desperate, but certainly it
is very dangerous, and to be suspected ; and,
therefore, the desire of a little time longer,
in such a case, may be very allowable.
I will not deny but it is possible, even for a
believer, to be taken in such a posture, that
it may be very uncomfortable to him to be
carried off so, through the affrightments of
death, and his darkness as to his after-state.
On the other hand, it is an argument of a good
measure of spirituality and height of the love
of God, to desire to depart, and be dissolved,
in the midst of health, and the affluence of
worldly comforts. But for men to desire and
wish to be dead, when they are troubled and
vexed with anything, is but a childish folly,
flowing from a discontented mind, which be-
ing over, they desire nothing less than to die.
It is true there may be a natural desire of
death, which at sometimes hath shined in
the spirits of some natural men: and there
is much reason for it, not only to be freed
from the evils and troubles of this life, but
even from those things which many of this
foolish world account their happiness—sen-
sual pleasures, to eat and drink, and to
be hungry again, and still to round that
same course which, to souls that are raised
above sensual things, is burdensome and
grievous.
But there is a spiritual desire of death,
which is very becoming a Christian. For
Jesus Christ hath not only opened very clearly
the doctrine of eternal life, but he himself
hath passed through death, and lain down in
the grave ; he hath perfumed that passage,
and warmed that bed for us; so that it is
sweet and amiable for a Christian to pass
through and follow him, and to be where he
is. It is a strange thing, that the souls of
Christians have not a continual desire to go
to that company which is above (finding so
much discord and disagreement among the
best of men that are here); to go to the spirits
of just men made perfect, where there is light,
and love, and nothing else; to go to the com-
pany of angels, a higher rank of blessed
spirits; but, most of all, to go to God, and to
Jesus the Mediator of the New Testament.
And, to say nothing positively of that glory
(for the truth is, we can say nothing of it), the
very evils that death delivers the true Chris-
tian from, may make him long for it; for such
a one may say—I shall die, and go to a more
excellent country, where I shall be happy for
ever: that is, I shall die no more, I shall
sorrow no more, I shall be sick no more, and,
which is yet more considerable, I shall doubt
no more, and shall be tempted no more ; and,
which is the chiefest of all, I shall sin no
II), Ore,
398
[LECT. I.
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
EXPOSITORY LECTURES ON ISAIAH VI.
1,ECTURE I.
VER. 1––5.
THE division of this chapter (were that to
any great purpose) may be stated thus:—
1. The prophet's vision, from ver. 1 to 3.
In the year that king Uzziah died, I saw also
the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lift-
ed up, and his train filled the temple. 2. Above
it stood the seraphims: each one had sir wings;
with twain he covered his face, and with twain
he covered his feet, and with twain he did fly.
3. And one cried unto another, and said, holy,
holy, holy is the Lord of hosts : the whole
earth is full of his glory.
II. The effects of it upon him, relating to
this calling, rom ver, 4–13. And the posts
of the door moved at the voice of them that
cried, and the house was filled with smoke, &c.
In the vision, besides the circumstances of
time and place specified, ver. 1, we have a
glorious representation of the majesty of God,
Ver. 2: a suitable acclamation, a voice of
praise being joined with it, ver. 3, 4.
The effects of it on the prophet toward his
calling are three, viz., I. his preparation. II.
his mission. III. his message.
I. The preparation, in these two particulars:
1. humiliation ; 2. purification (ver. 6, 7): a
deep conviction, and then, effectual removal
of pollution.
II. In his mission we have three things:
1. God’s inquiry for a messenger, ver. 8, for-
mer part. 2. The prophet’s offer of himself,
the latter part of ver, 8. 3. God's acceptance,
ver. 9, former part.
III. His message—a heavy commination,
from ver. 9–12, yet, allayed with a gracious
mitigation, ver, 13; the judgment very last-
ing and wasting, yet a remnant reserved.
VER. 1. In the year that king Uzziah died, I saw
also the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted
up, and his train filled the temple.
I saw.] Observe the freedom of God in his
choice of men to be near him and know him.
And in the measuring out of the degrees of
discovery unto those men differently, some
had extraordinary revelations; and though
prophetic visions now cease, yet there are
certainly higher and clearer coruscations of
God upon some souls, than upon many others,
who yet are children of light, and partake of
a measure of that light shining within them.
Thus we are not carvers and choosers, and,
therefore, are not peremptorily to desire any-
thing in kind or measure that is singular; that
were pride and folly. But above all things
we are to esteem, and submissively to desire,
still more and more knowledge of God, and
humbly to wait and keep open the passage of
light; not to close the windows, not to be in-
dulgent to any known sin or impure affection;
that will soon obstruct it. Into a filthy soul,
wisdom will not enter.
In the year that king Uzziah died, I saw
the Lord on his throne.] There is another
king named here, to denote the time by ; but
he was a diseased and a dying king, who
lived some years a leper, and then died. Men
may speak in a court style of vain wishes, O
king, live for ever; but this king here on the
throne, is indeed THE KING IMMORTAL, the ever-
living God.
God measures and proportions all his
means to their ends. When he calls men to
high services, he furnishes them with suita-
ble preparations and enablements. Thus here
with the prophet: he was to denounce heavy
things against his own nation, a proud, stub-
born people ; to deal boldly and freely with
the highest, yea, with the king himself, ch.
vii.; and he is prepared by a vision of God.
What can a man fear after that? All regal
majesty and pomp looks petty and poor after
that sight. Two kings together on their
thrones in robes royal (1 Kings xxii.) did no
whit astonish him who had seen a greater: I
saw (says Micaiah) the Lord sitting on his
throne, and all the hosts of heaven standing
by. Much like this is the vision of Isaiah
here before us.
Eyes dazzled with the sun, see not the
glittering of drops of dew on the earth ; and
those are quickly gone, with all their faint
and fading glory, to a soul taken with the
contemplation of God. How meanly do they
spend their days, who bestow them on count-
ing money, or courting little earthly idols in
ambition or love . From how high a stand
doth he look down on those, who looks on
God, and admires his greatness, wonders at
what he sees, and still seeks after more!
These two are therefore joined together, be-
holding the beauty of the Lord, and inquiring
in his temple. Psalm xxvii. 4. One thing
have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek
after ; that I may dwell in the house of the
Lord all the days of my life, to behold the
beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his
temple.
Wer. 2, 3. Above it stood the seraphims:
each one had sia wings 5 with twain he cov-
ered his face, and with twain he covered his
feet, and with twain he did fly. And one
cried unto another, and said, Holy, holy, holy
is the Lord of hosts: the whole earth is full
WER. 4.]
399
ON ISAIAH WI.
of his glory..] These glorious courtiers, fla-
ming spirits, are light and love, whose very
feet are too bright for us, as his face is too
bright for them; and they cry holy, holy,
holy—thrice holy, most holy THREE, one God
—Lord of Hosts: the whole earth is full of
his glory. This they cry one to another,
echoing it and returning it incessantly. They
that praise him most, come nearest their life.
When we are to pray, or offer any worship
to the great God in the sanctuary, especially
in solemn worship there, let us think of him
as thus on his throne above, and the diffusion
of his glory there, of his train filling the up-
pér temple, and so stoop low and fall down
before him. Holy, holy, holy. This is the
main thing wherein he is glorious, and we
are to know and adore him in this view, and
abhor ourselves as in his sight.
The whole earth.] So many creatures and
various works and affairs, fruits and plants,
and rich commodities, and so many calami-
ties and miseries that kingdoms and people
are afflicted with as by turns, and so many
disorders, and such wickedness of men in pub-
lic and private matters; and yet, in all these
varieties and contrarieties of things, this one
is the sum of all, and all is taken up in it,
The whole earth is full of his glory. In fra-
ming and upholding, in ruling and ordering
all, what a depth of power and wisdom.
VER. 4. The posts of the door moved at the voice of
him that cried, and the house was filled with
smoke.
How true must that be, that at his voice
the earth quakes and the mountains tremble,
when, at the voice of an angel crying or pro-
claiming his name, the very threshold of the
temple (the then holiest part of the earth)
moves | This, in the vision, was intended to
represent the dreadfulness of his great name,
which vile men dare baffle in vain oaths, and
can speak thereof without sense: but hearts
that are indeed his living temples will find
this emotion ; when his name is proclaimed,
or when they mention or think of it, the posts
will be moved with an awful trembling.
And the house was filled with smoke.] This
was here a symbol of the presence and maj-
esty of God. See Psalm xcvii. 2. Clouds and
darkness are round about him, righteousness
and judgment are the habitation of his
throne ; not a signal of displeasure, as some
take it. He dwells in light that is inaccessi-
ble, and round about is thick darkness, shut-
ting out the weak eyes of men, which were
not able to abide the brightness of his glory.
Much of our knowledge here, lies in this, to
know that we know him not: and much of
our praise, to confess that we can not praise
him—silentium tibilaus, as they read Ps. lxv. 1.
VER. 5. Then said I, Wo is me ! for I am undone;
because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in
the midst of a people of unclean lips; for mine
eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts.
Then said I, Wo is me..] He is not lifted
up with the dignity, that he should be hon-
ored with such a vision of God; but on the
contrary, is struck with humble, holy fear :
Oh, I am undone " This constitutes much
of the exercise of souls admitted nearest to
God, even this astonishment and admiration
that such as they should be regarded and
raised to that height, and holy fear, in a
sense of their unholiness. When the blessed
Virgin heard a voice very much to her own
advantage (Luke i. 28, 29), instead of rising
in her own conceit upon it, she was troubled,
and marvelled what manner of salutation it
should be, and was struck with fear, so
that the angel found it needful to say, Fear
70t.
Illusions and deceits of spirit of this kind,
can not be better distinguished from true
manifestations of God, than by this, that they
breed pride and presumption in the heart,
make it vain and haughty; while true sen-
ses, and joys, and discoveries of love, in what
kind soever, do most powerſully humble. Is
est, qui superbire non potest, Cui Deus osten-
dit misericordiam suam. Augustine.
For mine eyes have seen the King, the
LoRD of Hosts.] The mother and nurse of
pride, is ignorance of God. A small glance
of him will make the best of men abhor
themselves, and still the nearer Sight of him,
the lower conceit will there be of self, and
the deeper sense of impurity and Vileness.
This tells us, though we hear and speak of
God, alas ! we know him not.
I am a man of polluted lips.] He mentions
this the rather because he heard that song
which he would have joined with, but durst
not, because of polluted lips. Thus we must
confess we are polluted all over, but much of
our pollution breaks out by the lips, yet, com-
monly, we think not on it.
I am undone..] We could not indeed bear
much, could not see God and live ; therefore
he veils himself. But surely we might see
much more than we do, and live the better
for it, the more humbly and holily. Our pol-
lutions hinder and unfit us, as he implies
when he says, A man of polluted lips. But
oh, that we saw so much of him as to see this
pollution, which makes us so unworthy and
so unfit to see him.
He first cries, I am a man of unclean /ips,
and then adds, I dwell tm the midst of a people
of unclean lips. This is the true method ;
there can be no right sense of pollutions
about us, but that which begins with a sense
of those within us. Few men reflect much
on themselves; or, if they do, they view them-
selves by a false light.
Polluted lips.] This he says in regard of
the voice he heard. And with regard to the
much irreverence with which we mention
God, both ministers and people, as much of
all our heart pollutions have their vent this
way, so the promise of sanctifying his people
runs much on this. Zeph. iii. 9. They of a
pure lip shall offer. All are of the holy or
der, a royal priesthood, and through sancti-
400
[LE cT. II.
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
fied lips, as the censor, still they offer in-
cense of prayer and praise. He is a perfect
man that offends not in word. Jam. iii. 2.
Commonly, by much speaking, there is much
pollution: In many words there wants not sin.
Prov. x. 19. Therefore let your speech be al-
ways seasoned with salt. Col. iv. 6. Now,
many speeches need much salt, otherwise
some part will be rotten, at least unsavory.
Much of the sin of the land consists in this:
there are few companies where God is not
dishonored and provoked by your communi-
cation; and till this be laid to heart, judg-
ments will multiply and grow instead of de-
creasing. Few, even of those who fear the
Lord, speak often one to another, in a strain
that God delights, not only to hearken to, but
to write down and register for their good.
And I dwell amidst a people of unclean
lips.] We infect each other when we meet.
There is little converse that a man returns
the better by, yea, by the most he is the
worse: he brings back often more pollution,
more folly and vanity by most companies and
discourses. But we see here, that impurity
humbly acknowledged, is graciously removed.
LECTURE II.
Wer. 6–8.
VER. 6. Then flew one of the seraphims unto me, hav-
ing a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with
tongs off the altar.
IMPURITY well discovered to a man, is half
cured. Whensoever God graciously shows
a man his own unsanctifiedness, there he
goes on to cleanse and sanctify him : the
light that discovers, is followed by a burn-
ing coal that purges away.
he Holy Spirit is that purifying fire : a
touch of it cleanseth the hearts, and lips, and
all, and kindles that affection in the soul
which can not die out, which not many,
which no waters can quench again. It doth
this to all that are sanctified, but eminently
it doth it (or, at least, they desire it may) to
to those who are to be the instruments of en-
lightening, purifying, and kindling others.
So in the resemblance of fiery tongues came
down this Spirit on the apostles; and thence
they themselves were as burning coals scat-
tered through the nations, blessed incendia-
ries of the world, setting it on fire with the
love of Christ : tanquam ligna ardentia dis-
persa, says Augustine.
VER. 7. And he laid it upon my mouth, and said, Lo,
this hath touched thy lips, and thine iniquity is ta-
ken away, and thy sin is purged.
Thine iniquity is taken away,+how im-
pure soever before. This free grace is won-
derful, to make some who have been notori-
ously unclean, by the change wrought by this
fire, the touch of a coal, to become eminently
gracious, and messengers of grace to others,
$
carrying this and spreading it. They, though
originally of dark clay, are by this fire made
transparent glass through which the light of
the gospel shines into the church.
This coal taken from the altar, may denote
the deriving of the Spirit from Jesus Christ,
our priest, altar, sacrifice, and all, by which
we are purified and made fit for his service.
He is the fountain of light, and life, and puri-
ty, and all grace to his messengers, and all
his followers. His grace is indeed a live coal,
where heavenly heat is mixed with earth, the
fulness of the Godhead with our nature in hu-
man flesh. Thereby we draw near ; and es-
pecially they who bear his name to men, un-
der a sense of their own impurity, entreat his
touch, as devout Bernard, who, in a holy hy-
perbole, exclaims, “had the prophet need of
a coal Oh, then, grant for me a whole
globe of fire, to purge away my filthiness, and
make me a fit messenger to this people !”
Thy sin is purged.] The children of God
are a wonder to themselves, when that Spirit
comes in, who conquers and purges so sud-
denly and easily what they before groan un-
der and wrestle with, very long to little or no
purpose. It is a change of the right hand of
the Most High, as the Vulgate reads that word
in Psalm lxxvii. 10: I said, this is my infirmi-
ty, but I will remember the years of the right
hand of the Most High—mutatio deatrae Ex-
celsi. A touch of that will cleanse and heal:
the all-purifying virtue of his Spirit, whereof
this baptism of the prophet's lips was a sym-
bol, takes away the dross which by other
means than that fire can not be purged. So
in metals, much pains may be taken, and
strength of hand used with little effect ; that
at most does but scratch the superfices, makes
the outside a little bright and shining, but
severs not the dross from within : that can not
be done without fire. Have we not found
how vainly we attempt while God withholds
his hand 3 Yea, while a man fancies self-
pureness, he is the more impure, as Job says,
chap. ix. 30, 31. If I wash myself with snow-
water, and make myself ever so clean, yet
shalt thou plunge me in the ditch, and mine
own clothes shall abhor me. Therefore, pray-
er is the great resource of a soul under a
sense of uncleanness, begging a new creation,
for such it is indeed : Create in me a clean
heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within
me —following God with this suit, and re-
solving to follow him till he grant it: for we
well know he is able, and may say, Lord, if
thou wilt, thou canst make ºne clean.
This fire hath two effects: it works purity
and activity; it takes away sin, and puts in
spirit and life for obedience. And here Thy
sin is purged, and then says he, ver. 8, Here
am I : send me. And the former is effectual
toward the latter: the more the soul is cleans-
ed, the more alive and able it is made for
service. The purging out of those sickly hu-
mors makes it more vigorous and able;
whereas, they abounding clog the spirits, and
VER. 8.]
401
ON ISAIAH VI.
make the vital operations heavy and weak.
A soul well cleansed from the love of sin, and
the world, and self, is in a healthful temper,
and goes nimbly to any work. Outward dis-
couragements and difficulties are then moth-
ing. A feverish distemper within hinders and
makes one lazy and unwieldy, unwilling and
unable to labor: but that well purged and
cured, he cares less for the hot weather with-
out; strength of nature endures that more
easily. Oh, how sweet to be thus actuated
by love, a pure intention and desire of doing
God service, and of bringing him in glory !
Other motives, or the mixtures of them, are
base; and though God may make use some-
times of such, yet he sees within, and knows
what spring makes the wheels go, and he
gives them their reward here, somewhat
possibly of that they seek, success, and credit,
and a name; but the after-reward of faithful
servants they need not look for in that work:
for they receive their reward, and can they
expect more ? Many a Here am I, comes
from other incentives than an allar coal ; and
so they burn and shine a while, but they
soon consume and die out in a snuff: the
heavenly altar-fire alone keeps in, and returns
to heaven where it was kindled.
There is many a hot, furious march under
the semblance and name of zeal for God, that
loves to be seen ; as Jehu, 2 Kings x. 16.
Come with me and see my zeal for the Lord.
Such persons may flatter themselves into that
conceit in the heat of action to think it is for
God, while he sees through it, and judges it
as it is, zeal for self and their own interest;
and he gives them, accordingly, some hire-
lingjourneyman's wages, and then turns them
off. But oh, where the heart is purely actu-
ated by a desire of his glory, and seeks noth-
ing else, for such remains that blessed word,
Well done, good and faithful servant, enter
into thy master's joy.
This, then, is to be sought for by ministers
and eminent servants in public affairs, yea,
by all that offer any service to God, a readi-
ness from love. Something of this there is in
all who are truly his, though held down in
many, and almost smothered with rubbish ;
and in these there is some mixture of flesh
drawing back. The spirit is ready, but the
flesh is weak, and a load to it, hindering its
working; and this strife is often found as a
horse to an unskilful rider, at once pricked
with the spur and checked with the bridle.
But where this spirit of love is, it doth pre-
Vail, and wastes that opposition daily, and
groweth in strength, becomes more quick and
ready, more freed from self, and more actua-
ted by the will of God; attaining somewhat
further in that conformity with heaven,
where shall be no will striving, but his alone;
where those glorious bright spirits stand ready
for all commands, who earcel in strength,
and employ it all to do his commandments.
Psalm ciii. 20. And the more like them we
be here, the more lively hope have we to be
shortly with them, and to be wholly as they
a Te.
VER. 8. Also, I heard the voice of the Lord, saying,
Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then
said I, Here am I : send me.
THIS inquiry imports not a doubtful delib-
eration in God, but a purpose to send. He is
represented as a king, advising with himself
or his council. And this is by some conceived
as an intimation of the mystery of the Trini-
ty, as Gen. i. 26, And God said, Let us make
man in our own image.—Whom shall I send,
and who will go for us & But were there not
ready, millions of these winged messengers?
What need, then, of such a word 2 True ;
angels were ready, but a man was sought.
God, vouchsafing to send an embassy to men,
will send one that might speak their language
to them, and might stay and treat with them
in a familiar, friendly way, an ambassador in
ordinary, to lie still and treat with them. And
in this condescension much wisdom and love
appear. He will take men, subject to the
like infirmities and pollutions with the peo-
ple, as the prophet here acknowledges, but
one purged from these pollutions, made holy;
though not perfectly, yet eminently holy.
This is very suitable; were not men invinci-
bly obstinate, more suitable than that God
should send by angels, that one of themselves
should come and deal with men for God, and
bear witness of his graciousness and readi-
ness to forgive, so as to give himself for an in-
stance of it, and say, “I have found him so.”
And they being changed and sanctified, show
really that the thing may be done ; that it is
feasible to sanctify a sinner; , and so, sinful
men appear to be fitter for this service than
imbodied angels.
I said, Here am I; send me..] What a
blessed change was wrought on Paul, when
cast to the ground ! His own will was bro-
ken all to pieces, and now he is only for his
service, whose name he so hated, and whose
servants he persecuted. Lord, what will thou
have me to do 2 Acts ix. 6. These are the
very words and characters of a true convert.
And thus, a soul turned to Christ may in
some cases doubt what is his will, but that
once resolved, there is no deliberation wheth-
er to do it or not. He says not, if the service
be honorable or profitable, that is, carrying
worldly credit or profit in it; then will I do it :
no, but whatever it is, if it be thine, and thou
appoint me to it, Here am I. And this makes
the meanest work of his station excellent.
Then said I, Here am I..] A strange change
in the prophet; even but now an undone man,
and here º a ready messenger, and so
turned to an angel. Something of this, most
find who are truly called to this high work of
delivering messages from God; sometimes a
sense of pollution benumbs and strikes them
dead, and anon again they feel the flame of
love kindled by that coal, quickening them to
such a readiness, and such free offers of them-
51
402
[LECT. III.
EXPOSITORY LECTURES
selves to service, as, to those who understand
not the reason of it, would seem presumptu-
ous forwardness. And there may be in some
minds, at one and the same time, a strange
mixture and counterworking of these two to-
gether; a sense of unfitness and unworthiness
drawing back, and yet the strength of love
driving forward, thinking thus, how can I,
who am so filthy, so vile, speak of God? Yet
he hath shown me mercy J How then can I
be silent 2
Send me..] Moses's reluctance, this same
prophet would have vented too, before the
touch of the coal, while he said, Wo is me, I
am undone, or struck down, as the word may
signify; he can not speak with such unholy
lips of so holy a God. Isaiah cries out of
polluted lips, as Moses complained of stam-
mering lips. And this is fit to precede, first,
a sense of extreme inability and unworthiness,
and then, upon a change and call, ready obe-
dience. A man once undone and dead, and
then recovered, is the only fit messenger for
God. In such a one, love overcomes all dif-
ficulties both without and within, and in his
work no constraintis he feeling but that of love;
and where that is, no other will be needed.
The sweet, all-powerful constraint of love will
send thee all-cheerful, though it were through
fire or water: no water can quench it, nor
fire out-burn it; it burns hotter than any other
kindled against it. After the touch of that
coal, no forbearing. So Jer. xx. 9: But his
word was in my heart as a burning fire shut
wp in my bones, and I was weary with for-
bearing, I could not stay. Feed the flock of
God which is among you, says St. Peter, taking
the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but
willingly ; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready
mind. 1 Pet. v. 2. Yet the prophet says, Send
me. Though he had so ardent a desire and
readiness to go, yet he will not go unsent, but
humbly offers himself, and waits both for his
commission and instruction: and how awful
are they !
LECTURE III.
VER. 9. And he said, Go and tell this people, Hear ye
indeed, but understand not ; and see ye indeed, but
perceive not.
VER. 10. Make the heart of this people fat, and make
their ears heavy, and shut their eyes; lest they
see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and
*and with their heart, and convert, and be
88.1801.
His message, you see, is most sad, and so
he is put to it, put to the trial of his obedience,
as men usually are according to the degree of
their fitness. Nothing is more sweet to a
messenger than to have good news to carry.
Oh, it is a blessed sweet thing to convert
souls . . But how heavy to harden them by
preaching ! ... Yet thus it is to many at some
times, and almost generally to all. Certainly,
before this, much had been heard and despised:
they had been hardening their own hearts, and
now they shall have enough of it; their very
sins shall be their plague, a plague of all others
the most terrible, yet, as was said above, there
are times of the height of this plague, as of
others, and this was one of those times of its
raging mortality. The prophet did nothing
but preach, and yet they were stupified by it.
And indeed, wherever the word does not soften
and quicken, it hardens and kills ; and the
more lively the ministry of the word is where
it works this effect, the more deeply doth it
work it.
This was verified on the Jews: though
then God's own people, yet is was verified on
them to the utmost. And this context is often
cited against them in the New Testament;
no place so often. So excellent a preacher
as Isaiah, and so well reputed among his
people, yet was sent to preach them blind,
and deaf, and dead. And this same does the
gospel to most of many a congregation in
Scotland; and the more of Christ that is
spoken, the more are unbelievers hardened.
Isaiah, the most evangelical of all the proph-
ets, was yet brought to that, Who hath be-
lieved our report & Yea, this was fulfilled in
the preaching of Christ himself; as the hotter
the sun, the more is the clay hardened.
Go tell this people..] Observe the mighty
power of the word, to whatsoever it is sent.
As it is wonderfully efficacious for softening,
melting, reducing to God, so, if it be sent to
harden, to seal to judgment, to bring in and
hasten it; and therefore it is spoken of as ef-
fecting the things it speaks: as in Jer. i. 10,
See, I have this day set thee over the nations,
and over the kingdoms, to root out, and to pull
down, and to destroy, and to throw down, to
build and to plant. So Ezek. xliii. 3, and
Hos. vi. 5. Therefore, despise it not. Spirit-
ual judgments are the heaviest of all : though
least felt for a time, yet they stick closest,
and prove saddest in the end. The not feel-
ing, is a great part of the plague: in this is
the nature and malignity of the disease, that
it takes away the sight and sense of other
things, and of itself. The plague is a disease
seizing on the spirits, and therefore is so dan-
gerous; but this seizes only on the spirit of
the mind: and is anything so dreadful ? Oh,
any plague but that of the heart. People
think it a good thing not to feel the word, not
to be troubled. Well, as they love this, they
are filled with it, and shall have enough of it.
So in self-love, sui amator sibi dat. God is
righteous and pure in this. There are many
cavils about his working on the heart to har-
den, which arise from an ignorant, low con-
ceit of God, as of a dependant being, or tied
to laws, or to give account. We ought rather
to tremble before him. He doth no iniquity,
and we shall be forced to confess it. Many
ways of his are obscure, but none are unjust.
Find we not this people sit under the sound,
and are many of them as if absent, as if they
had never heard such things spoken of ; so
WER. 11, 12.]
403
ON ISAIAH, VI.
grossly ignorant of all these ? Hearing, they
hear, but understand not. Others are yet
worse : they get a kind of knowledge, but it
is dead, and works nothing. These see, and
yet perceive not, and know not even what
they know. Most are of this sort, and they
are of all others the worst to convince. When
they are told of Christ and forgiveness of sins,
and are entreated to believe these mysteries,
they cry out, “Oh we do, we know them,
and can answer, if you ask us, what these
doctrines are.” But the heart is not changed,
no sin is forsaken, no study of holiness, no
flame of love. This not perceiving, is the
great judgment of this land ; this the great
cause of lamentation, that Christ is so much
known, and yet known so little. People do
not think whither it tends, and what the im-
portance of this message is. They hear it as
a passing tale, or, at the best, as for the pres-
ent, a pfeasing sound, a lovely song, Ezekiel
XXxiii. 32; and if by an able minister, as sung
by a good voice; but no impression is made,
it dies out in the air, it enters not into their
hearts to quicken them, and so their evil is
the more deadly. Oh bemoan this, beg the
removal of it above all judgments, and the
sending forth of that Spirit who causes the
mountains to flow down. Isa. lxiv. 1. Many
of you, my brethren, may be under somewhat
of this, as there are divers degrees of it ere it
comes to be incurable. Oh! pray to be de-
livered, lest it grow so far that be in vain to
bid you do so. Better to be cast into extreme
terrors for a time than to continue thus: bet-
ter to fall into a fever, than into this lethargy,
which makes you sleep to death.
Convert, and be healed.] These two go to-
gether: all miseries are healed, and grace and
favor flow forth, when once the soul is stirred
up to seek after God, and turn unto him. Oth-
er courses of healing public or private evils,
are but mountebank cures, which vex and tor-
ment, as unapt physic does, and do no good ;
yea, make things worse than before. See
Hosea v. 13, compared with ch. vi. 1: When
Ephraim saw his sickness, and Judah his
wound, then went Ephraim to the Assyrian,
and sent to King Jareb ; yet could he not heal
you, nor cure you of your wound.—Come and
let us return unto the Lord, for he hath torn,
and he will heal us ; he hath smitten, and he
will bind us up.
There is much in a custom of fruitless hear-
ing, to stupify and make hard—to make men
sermon-proof. And the hearing of the most
excellent, hardens most, both against them,
and against all others that are their inferiors;
for being accustomed to hear the most moving
strains unmoved, makes them scorn, and ea-
sily beat back that which is less pressing. A
largely endued and very spiritual minister, is
either one of the highest blessings, or heavi-
est curses, that can come upon a people.
Hearing, hear not..] This even the minis-
ters themselves may fall under: speakers may
have no ears, as the Italian proverb says of
preachers, “They do not hear their own
voice.” They may grow hard, by custom of
speaking of Divine things without Divine af.
fection; so that nothing themselves or others
Say, can work on them. Hence it is that so
ſew formal dead ministers are converted, that
One said, Raro vidi clericum paenºtentem ; so
hardened are they against the means of con-
viction, in which they have been so long con-
versant, and not converted by them. They
have been speaking so often of heaven and
hell, and of Jesus Christ, and feeling nothing
of them, that the words have lost their power,
and they are grown hard as the skin of levia-
than, esteeming iron as straw, and brass as
rotten wood. And this, by-the-way, beside
that God's dispensation is so fixed, may be a
reason why that sin mentioned in the sixth
chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews, is un-
pardonable; it is, in the nature of things,
without such a miracle as God will not exert,
impossible that they who have stood out such
things in vain, should be renewed. This
should make us who are ministers, especially
to tremble at an unholy life, or at the thought
of declining from those ways of religion, of
which we have known so much, and for which
we have so many means of improvement.
VER. 11. Then said I, Lord, how long 2 And he an-
swered, Until the cities be wasted without inhabit-
ant, and the houses without man, and the land be
utterly desolate ;
VER. 12. And the Lord have removed men far away,
and there be a great forsaking in the midst of the
land.
Now this judgment fastening, we are sure
to draw on all other judgments. Therefore,
the prophet, touched with compassion, in-
quires, How long 2 and receives a very sad
answer, Until the cities be wasted. God is
sovereignly free in this; but usually he keeps
that course, that long-continued and spared sin-
ning, makes long-continued calamities when
they come; judgments, as the ancients thought
comets to be, are as lasting as the matter is
they are kindled with ; and truly, upon this
account, we may justly apprehend that our
troubles are but just beginning, rather than
near their end. Yet, repentance might pre-
vail for the shortening of them : those sweet
showers soonest lay the stormy winds.
And this consideration may have something
hopeful in it, that in these latter times, things
move something more speedily, as natural
motions do toward their end; for a short work
will God make upon the earth, as the apostle's
word is; and we see in our particular straits
that were greatest, that the Lord hath made
them short even beyond our expectation ; and
what remains is in his hand. I trust he will
hasten the defeat of the plots and power of
his enemies; and doubt not all the late and
present commotions of these poor kingdoms
are the birth-pangs of a happy deliverance
and peace, and when they grow thickest, it is
nearest the birth. º
How long fl Observe the compassion of
404
[WER. 3
EXPOSHTORY LECTURE
the messengers of God, not desiring the evil
day, but mourning for it, pitying those they
denounce judgment against, and melting for
those they harden. -
Till the cities be wasted.] This intimates
there would be no relenting under all these
judgments, but that these, as well as the
word, and together with it, would harden
them more, till they were almost quite con-
sumed. And this is usual. Men think it
would be otherwise, but it is found that times
of great plagues and judgments are not times
of great conversion: men are then more hard-
ened both against the word and the rod; their
spirits grow stiff and obdurate in a kind of
desperation. But mercy, coming as the spring
sunshine, mollifies, and dissolves, and makes
fruitful; therefore such a day is to be longed
for. I suspect we shall not see much done
by the gospel till then ; and before that, we
may suffer yet more dismal things, and be
wasted with pestilence, sword, and famine.
Yet there is comfort in this, the Lord will not
make a full end of us: a tenth shall be left;
and if not we, yet at least our posterity shall
reap the sweet fruits of our bitter calamities,
which are the just fruits of our iniquities.
VER. 13. But yet in it shall be a tenth, and it shall
return, and shall be eaten; as a teil-tree, and as an
oak, whose substance is in them when they cast
§: lºves, so the holy seed shall be the substance
thereof.
THERE is still a remnant holy to God, the
preservers of a land from utter ruin. Profane
persons despise the children of God, and know
not that they are beholden to them for the
subsistence of the land, and of the world:
they are as those oaks, whose roots did bear
up the earth of that highway that went be-
tween the king's house and the temple, as the
resemblance is taken by some.
In judgments, the Lord remembers that.
J)estroy it not, there is a blessing in it. As
for the personal condition of believers, there
may be a great decay, a winter visage may
be upon it; but yet, the holy seed abideth in
them, and is their stability, and still that
word is true that is borrowed hence, Semen
sanctum, statumen terra : The holy seed, the
subsistence or establishment of the earth.
When their number is completed, time shall
end, and this visible world shall be set on fire.
And this day is hastening forward, though
most of us think but little, if at all, of it.
EXPOSITORY LECTURE ON ROMAN S XII, 3–12.
VER. 3. For I say, through the grace given unto me,
to every man that is among you, not to think of
himself more highly than he ought to think; but to
think soberly, according as God hath dealt to every
man the measure of faith.
BESIDE the common word of edification im-
plying it, we find often in the Scriptures,
teaching compared to building ; and, among
other things, the resemblance holds in this,
that in both, of necessity, there is a founda-
tion first to be laid, and then the structure to
be raised upon it. He that gives rules of life,
without first fixing principles of faith, offers
preposterously at building a house without
laying a foundation: and he that instructs
what to believe, and directs not withal a be-
liever how to live, doth in vain lay a founda-
tion without following out the building. But
the apostles were not so foolish builders as
to sever these two in their labors in the
church. In this epistle we find our apostle
excellently acquitting himself in both these.
He first largely and firmly lays the ground-
work, in the foregoing part of the epistle:
now, he adds exhortations and directions
touching the particular duties of Christians.
The first thing, certainly, to be done with
a soul, is, to convince it of sin and death, then
to address and lead it unto Christ, our righ-
teousness and life; this done, it should be
taught to follow him. This is Christianity,
to live in Christ, and to live to Christ ; to live
in him by faith, and to live to him in holiness.
These our apostle joined in his doctrine, ch.
viii. 1: There is therefore now no condemna-
tion to them which are in Christ Jesus, who
walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.
The exhortation that begins this chapter,
hath in it the whole sum of Christian obedi-
ence, fitly expressed and strongly urged ; and
in that are all particular rules comprised.
But because of our ignorance and our sloth,
we do not always readily draw forth particu-
lars from those comprehensive general rules
wherein they lie; we need, therefore, to be
assisted in this; and to this the Scriptures de-
scend, particularly the apostles in their epis-
tles, and that usually in the latter part of
them. And this is a main part of our duty in
preaching the word, often to represent these
rules to you, not so much that you may un-
derstand them better, though somewhat of
this likewise may be needful, as that you
may remember them, and eye them more,
and walk according to them; and there is no
more in these things truly known, than what
WER. 3..]
405
ON ROMANS XII.
is known after this manner. I have endeav-
ored, in the course of my teaching, to reach
this end. , My design, and I hope yours like-
wise, hath been, not to pass so much time,
nor to pass it with empty delight, which in
other things might be done at an easy rate,
but that you be really built up heavenward,
and increase with the increase of God; that
the truth and power of Christianity may
possess our hearts, and grow there, and may
be evident in our lives, to the glory of our
Lord Jesus.
We shall endeavor to lay before you the
particular graces that are the ornaments of
Christians; and this, not that you may look
on them simply, and commend them, but
that you may pursue them, and be clothed
with them, and then they will be much more
comely and commendable: as a robe of rich
apparel, if it seem fine while it hangs or lies
by, it appears far better when it is put on.
The rules the apostle is to give, he prefa-
ces thus, For I say, through the grace given
to me—I speak as the messenger or apostle
of Christ, according to that knowledge and
experience that he hath given to me of these
things; and so take it, as from one that hath
some interest in, and share of, these graces I
recommend to you. And this, indeed, makes
recommendations carry home. Oh, that we
could truly say this Alas! it is an uncom-
fortable, and commonly an unprofitable thing,
to speak of Christ and the graces of his Spir-
it, only as having heard of them, or read of
them, as men that travel in their studies, do
of foreign countries.
Ată răs xàpiros. The apostle represents this,
to add the more authority, and gain the more
acceptance, to what he had to say ; and for
this end, some care is to be had of the good
opinion of people, so far as their interest is
concerned, that the message we bring be not
prejudged: otherwise, this truly set aside, it
were little matter how we were mistaken or
despised, yea, it were a thing someway de-
sirable ; only provided nothing be done on
purpose that may justly, yea, or that may
probably, procure it, for that both piety and
charity forbid.
To every man.] This is more pressing than
if he had said simply, to you, or generally, to
you all ; for in men's talking of things, it
proves often too true, Quod omnibus, nemini,
What is said to all, is said to no one; but to
every one, that each one may suppose it spo-
ken to him, as an ingenious picture looking
to each in the room. Thus we ought to
speak, and thus ye ought to hear. We to
speak, not as telling some unconcerning sto-
ries, but, as having business with you; and
you to hear, not each for another, as you of.
ten do—“Oh! such a passage touched such
a one”—but each for himself.
The first particular the apostle recom-
mends, is that gracing grace of humility, the
ornament and the safety of all other graces,
and which is so peculiarly Christian. Some-
what philosophers speak of temperance, jus-
tice, and other like virtues, but these tend
rather to blow up and swell the mind with
big conceit and confidence of itself, than to
dwell together with self-abasement and hu-
mility. But in the school of Christ, the first
lesson of all is, self-denial and humility; yea,
it is written above the door, as the rule of
entry or admission, Learn of me, for I am
meek and lowly of heart. And out of all
question, that is truly the humblest heart
which hath most of Christ in it.
Not to think highly..] Not aspiring and in-
tending in things too high. And a great
point of humility is subjection to God in the
point of knowledge; in this was our first
climbing that proved our fall; and yet still,
amid alſ our ignorance and darkness, we are
catching and gaping after the deadly fruit of
unallowed knowledge. +
This, withal, hath in it the attempering of
our thoughts and practices to our measure
and station; to know ourselves truly and
thoroughly : for that will certainly beget a
very low esteem of ourselves, to judge our-
selves the unworthiest and meanest of all.
And having truly this estimate of ourselves,
we shall not vainly attempt anything above
our reach, nor disdainfully neglect anything
that is within the compass of our calling and
duty; which are the two evils so common
among men, yea even among Christians, and
in the church of God, and are the cause of
most of the enormities and disorders that fall
out in it. It is strange blindness, that they
who do grossly miscarry in the duties of their
own station, yet so readily fancy themselves
capable of somewhat higher, and think them-
selves wronged if it be refused them.
The self-knowing Christian would rather
descend, and finds himself very dispropor-
tioned to his present station, be it never so
mean. He can say with David, Lord, my
heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty;
neither do I exercise myself in great matters,
or in things too high for me. Psalm crxxi. 1.
But vain minds would still be tampering with
the greatest affairs, and dwell not with them-
selves. Oh ! my brethren, be entreated to
study your own hearts better. Be less abroad
in things that concern you not. There is
work enough within you ; heaps of base
lusts, and self-deceits, and follies, that you
see not yet; and many advantages of good
things you seem to see in yourselves, that in-
deed are not there. Self-love is a flattering
glass, which represents us to ourselves much
fairer than we are ; therefore turn from it, if
you desire a true account of yourselves, and
look into the pure and faithful mirror of God’s
law. Oh what deformities will that dis-
cover, which you never saw nor thought of
before: it will make you the lowest of all
persons in your own eyes.
This low self-esteem doth not wholly take
away the simple knowledge of what gifts and
graces God hath bestowed on a man; for
406
|VER. 4–8
EXPOSITORY LECTURE
that were to make him both unthankful and
unuseful. Qui se nescit, nescit se uti. He
who doth not know what God hath freely
given him, can not return praise to God, nor
make use of himself for God in his station.
Yea, the apostle's caution intimates a sober,
humble reflection on the measure God hath
given a man, as what he not only allows but
requires; and himself gives example of it in
his own present expression, declaring that he
speaks these things through the grace that is
given to him.
But this knowledge of a man's own gifts
and graces, that it may not preclude his at-
taining more, but help him to more, in the
humble acknowledgment and use of what he
hath, should have these two qualifications:
1. That he beware of overweening; that he
take his measure much below, rather than
any whit beyond what he truly hath. 2. That
whatsoever it is, he always look on it, not as
his own, but as God’s, having his superscrip-
tion on it, and all the glory of it being his
peculiar tribute; nothing of that to be inter-
rupted or retained: Not unto us, O Lord, not
unto us, but unto thy name give glory. Still,
all the glory entirely sent up to him. Thus,
here, the apostle sets all grace in that view.
As God hath dispensed the measure ; and so
speaks of his own, Through the grace given to
me. Still is it to be looked on, not as what
we have, but as what he hath given. That
is the gospel style, Grace, free gifts—xapis
xapiapara. Whereas philosophy speaks of all
as habits, or havings, or possessions.
Now, viewed in that relative dependant
notion of Jº given, a man shall never
be puffed up by any endowments, though
he see and know them : yea, the more he
knows them thus, he will be the more hum-
ble still, as being the more obliged. The
more he hath received, the greater they are,
the lower he bows, pressed down under the
weight of his engagements to God: as Abra-
ham fell on his face when God talked with
him, and made so rich promises to him. Gen.
xvii. 3. See David’s strain, 1 Chron. xxix.
15: But who am I, and what is my people,
that we should be able to offer so willingly
after this sort 2 For all things come of thee,
and of thine own have we given thee. This
the apostle gives as the sovereign preserva-
tive against the swelling poison of conceit,
What hast thou that thou didst not receive 2
1 Cor. iv. 7.
He who is thus regulated in his own es-
teem, will, by this, certainly, be moderated
in his desire of esteem from others, and can
not well meet with anything that way, that
will either puff him up, or cast him down :
if overprized by others, he takes that as their
mistake; if undervalued, he rejoices in that,
having set himself so low in himself that
others can not well set him lower. So when
men account meanly of him, they are really
of his own opinión; and you know that of.
fends none, that pleases them rather, to have
others agree with their opinions, and be of
their mind.
They who are busy after reputation, and
would be esteemed, are but begging voices;
they would have others think with them, and
confirm the conclusion they have already re-
solved on, in favor of themselves; and this
is a most foolish thing; for, disappointed in
this, men are discontented, and so their peace
hangs on others’ fancies; and if satisfied with
it, they surfeit and undo themselves with the
delight of it. Bees sometimes kill them-
selves with their own honey; and there is
such a word to this purpose, Prov. xxv. 27: It
is not good to eat much honey : so, for men
to search their own glory, is not glory.
VER. 4,5. For as we have many members in one body,
and all members have not the same office; so we,
being many, are one body in Christ, and every one
members one of another.
IN this consideration we have God’s wis-
dom manifested, and are instructed what is
our wisdom. He, in the great world, made
all by weight, number, and measure; so, in
the lesser world, man, and in the new world,
his church, he proportions all to the use he
hath designed them for. He could give to
them who have least, more than the very
greatest have, but he thought this unfit: it
might be some advantage to them, yet to the
whole body not so; and therefore not truly
so to them neither, being parts of it, and hav-
ing their good involved in the good of the
body.
This resemblance is often used in Scrip-
ture, and holds excellently well, but is little
learned. Our temper and carriage correspond
not to it. Who is there almost that finds it,
the Spirit of Christ in them, knitting them to
him as the common head, and One to anoth-
er, as one in him ; each busy to advance him,
and so seeking his glory, and to promote the
good of one another ? But alas! rather each
is for self, accursed self, as of an independ-
ent divided substance; yea worse, hating and
tearing one another, a monstrous sight, as if
one limb of the same body should be pulling
another to pieces. It signifies little to tell
men what mutual tenderness there is in na-
ture; that for a thorn in the foot, the back
bows, the head stoops, the eyes look, the
hands feel, and seek it, to pull it out.* Chris-
tians are still so rigid, so unchristian to each
other, they drive one another with the thorn
sticking in, forcing their brethren to ways
against the persuasions of their consciences.
In the following verses, viz., 6, 7, 8, we
have a specification of divers offices, and the
duties of them ; the due observance of which
is essential to the peace and growth of the
church, makes all go on Sweetly and fruitful-
ly. But men are either presumptuously or
preposterously busy out of their own station,
or slothfully negligent in it; and both these,
instead of edifying, are discomposing and de-
stroying things.
* Spinam calcat pes, &c.—AUGUSTINE.
WER. 9.]
407
ON ROMANS XII.
Not to insist on the distinction of offices, it
is evident, in all enumerations of this kind,
that the same word sometimes means divers
things, and divers words mean the same
thing, as ministry may comprise all, though
Sometimes peculiar to deacons, sometimes ta-
ken for teachers or pastors. Here it is gen-
eral, and the particulars following distribute
it: some are to teach, which is doctorial;
Some to exhort, which is more pastoral; some
are to give, which is proper to deacons; some
have their whole chargeto rule, as elders; some
are particularly for attendance on the sick.
But in all, fidelity and sedulity are requi-
site. How high soever men are placed, if
they are unfaithful, the higher judgment
awaits them. How low soever, if thou be
sincere and studious of thy duty, thou shalt
sustain no loss by thy low station, but rather
thy faithfulness will be the more set off
by it: He that is faithful in little, shall be
made ruler over much. Oh, that we were
more eaten up with zeal of our Lord's house
and winning of souls, whom he deputes to
that " Oh, that they who rule would study
more rule of their own houses, that should
go before, and of their own hearts, that
should be first of all ! Alas! how shall men
whose passions and lusts rule them, well rule
the house of God 2 Be afraid and wise, ye
who are called to that, and know at length,
what is so generally either unknown or un-
considered, the exemplary holiness required
in your persons, and the diligent watchfulness
over the flock of God. There are many de-
bates, and troubles, and pains about these our
liberties, but little diligence in the use of
them. Congregations are still as full of im-
piety and profaneness as ever. Oh take
heed, lest we thus forfeit them after all they
have cost, and provoke God to bereave us of
them. Men are busy, who, we know, are not
friends to the church of God. But oh, that
we were more careful to be on good terms
with HIM! If HE be for us, who can be
against us 2 It is no matter who be ; he is
too wise and too strong for them all.
VER. 9. Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor
that which is evil; cleave to that which is good.
THE whole sum of the law is, love; love
to God, and love to man : these two contain
all, and the former of the two contains the
latter. Love to God is the only true princi-
ple and spring of all due love to man; and
all love that begins there, returns thither
likewise, and ends there.
The engaging of the whole mind and soul
to the love of God, does not engross it so that
there should be no kind of love communica-
ble to man; on the contrary, it is to refine it,
that it may flow forth the purer and better.
All love should be first called in to God, to
be sublimated and purified there, and then
Set in its right channel and motion, so as
man may be loved in him and for him; not
to impair our love to him, but indeed to ex-
tend and act it as he allows. And so to love
man, is to love God, that love taking its rise
from him, and terminating in him: and in
this circle is the proper motion of celestial
Divine love.
The duty, then, here meant and com-
manded, is this, that we love one another.
And our love must be thus qualified; it must
be unhypocritical and sincere, such as, though
it may consist with, yet doth not wholly con-
sist in civilities of expression and behavior,
but a real benevolence of soul, and good will
to all; a love disposing us readily to forgive
evil, and to do good upon all occasions.
Yet this is not such a tenderness of com-
placency as leads to partake with any in any
evil ways; Oh no ; abhorring that which is
evil, flying from it with indignation, with a
kind of antipathy. And thus it will be from
the new nature in a Christian, the holy Spirit
of Christ, which can not endure the unholi-
ness or impurity of the world, but is chased
away, as doves by noisome smells, or bees
by smoke. This delicacy of spirit profane
men laugh at, as a weak, foolish meanness;
but, fools as they are, they know not that it
arises from that highest wisdom, which is from
above, which is indeed, peaceable, but first is
pure, and can admit of no peace nor agree-
ment with any persons or things that are
impure. This is to be like the all-wise God,
with whom wickedness can not dwell ; his
pure eyes can not pleasantly behold any
iniquity.
Oh I much of the love of God would work
more hatred of sin. But if thy hatred of
evil be right, know it will begin at home;
as we feel aversions and abhorrences most
when the things are nearest us. It is not the
upright nature of holiness, to hate sin in oth-
ers, and to hug it, or spare it, in thyself,
whether the same kind of sin, or any other;
for if this abhorrence be right, it is against
all sin, the whole, as natural contrarieties
are, and it is most against it, where nearest in
thyself. It is the true Divine fire of zeal,
kindled by the love of God, that burns up
sin, but first that which is nearest it, as a fire
in the hearth does, and so reaches what is
farther off. But if thy zeal fly most abroad
upon others, it is an unruly, disordered wild-
fire, cracking and squibbing up and down,
good for nothing but to set houses and towns
On fire.
Cleave to that which is § This ex-
resses a vehement and inseparable affection;
oving and rejoicing in all the good thou seest
in others; desiring and seeking after all the
good thou canst attain unto thyself; and be-
ing more pleased with the society of godly
persons than any other, such as will put thee,
and keep thee, most in mind of thy home
and the way thither, and admonish and re-
duce thee from any declining steps. Their
reproofs are more sweet to thee than the
laughter and flattery of profane men; as one
said to his master, “Thou shalt find no staff
408
[WER. 11.
EXPOSITORY LECTURE
hard enough to beat me from thee.” Though
they seem harsh to thee, yet wilt thou say,
Let the righteous smite me, it shall be a kind-
ness. Psalm. cxli. 5. And no opposition will
drive thee from the truth of God and his
ways, which are only good, if thy heart be
once glued by love and fastened to them.
Yea, thou wilt cleave the closer to it, the
more thou art persecuted for the truth ; and
the more thou sufferest for it, wilt love it the
better. The word that is used in marriage.
of the husband cleaving to the wife, holds
true in the soul Once married to that which
is good : all violence will be too weak to sev-
er thee. Learn to know what this is that is
truly good, to know the excellency and sweet-
ness of holiness, and it will be impossible to
part thy affection from it. But this is the
reason why men are so soon shaken, and the
slender hold they have removed; the super-
ficies of the soul, only, is tied to the outside
of religion, by some external relations and
engagements, and these are a running knot
that easily slips. Few receive the truth in
the love of it, and have their hearts united
to Jesus Christ, who is indeed all that GooD
we have to seek after, and to cleave to.
VER. 10. Be kindly affectioned one to another with
brotherly love ; in honor preferring one another.
Now, in this way of holy, spiritual affec-
tion, seeking the true good of one another,
be kind in brotherly love ; not upon design
of particular interest, but by a natural pro-
pension, such as is in creatures toward their
young; such a tenderness as is among men
of nearest relations, parents and children,
and brethren ; and know that you are indeed
brethren of the highest birth and parentage,
and so beyond all brethren, Christians are
obliged to love one another. Alas! that in
them, likewise, it should prove so unhappily
true, Fratrum quoque gratia rara est, that
the love of brethren is rare; that they should
be so hardly drawn to acts of love, and so
easily stirred to fits of anger and bitterness,
one toward another My beloved, are we
Christians ? Oh, where is the spirit of Christ?
Where that great law of his, that badge of
his followers, love one another, that by which
the Christians of the first times, astonished
the pagans about them 2 Yea, their very
enemies and persecutors were amazed at it.
It were well, and would be one considerable
gain by our enemies, if their combinations
and malice against the godly might drive
them close together, and unite them more to
one another in love.
In honor preferring one another.] Putting
all possible respect on one another: this is
not in ceremony or compliment, though these
civilities that are due, and done without
feignedness or affectation, are not disallowed,
yea, are, I conceive, included; but in matter
of real esteem, each preferring one another.
For, though a man may see the weakness of
* 'Our rô £vÅov šupúoets, &c.
those he converses with, yet passing, and, as
far as he can, covering these, he ought to
take notice of what is good. All have some-
thing commendable, and no one hath all ; so
the meanest may in something be preferable
to the highest. And Christian humility and
charity will seek out for and espy that, and
for it put all respect upon them, that their
quality and station are able to bear : and in
this, one should prevent another, and strive
who should do most in this kind, as a good
and happy contention.
And the source of this is, love to God, which
so mortifies the heart to all outward advan-
tages, that, further than a man is tied by place
and calling, he would not receive, much less
desire, any kind of respect from any, but had
rather be slighted and disregarded. What
cares a soul enamoured with the glory to
come, for the vain passing air of preference
and honor here ? That it can easily bate to
any, and, so far as a man has any power of it,
would put it upon others, far rather than own
it himself. Such a one can sweetly please
himself in being the meanest in all companies
where he comes, and passing for such, and
he is glad of respect done to others; still look-
ing homeward, where there is no prejudging
one another at all, but perfect unenvying and
unenvied glory. Glory here is to be shunned
rather than pursued, and if it will follow, yet
is less to be regarded than thy shadow. Oh,
how light and vanishing is it, and even things
more solid than it ! The fashion of this world
passeth away.
VER. 11. Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit,
serving the Lord.
Not slothful in business.] These condensed
rules have much in them ; and this one is very
needful, for often a listless, indisposed weari-
ness overtakes even good men: seeing so little
to be done to any purpose, they are almost
ready to give over all ; yet, they ought to
bestir themselves, and apply to diligence in
their place. Be not unduly stickling and busy
in things improper, but enclosing thy diligence
within thy sphere. Suffer it not to stand, but
keep it there in motion. As to thy worldly
affairs, be so diligent as to give them good
despatch, when thou art about them, but have
thy heart as little in them, as much dis-
engaged as may be ; yet so acquitting them
wisely, they shall trouble thee the less, when
thou art in higher and better employments.
As to thyself, be often examining thy heart
and ways, striving constantly against sin;
though little sensible advantage be gained,
yet, if thou yield, it will be worse; if it pre-
vail so much amidst all thy opposition, what
would it do if thou shouldst sit still ! Use all
holy means, how fruitless soever they seem
for the present, and wait on God. We have
toiled all night, said Simon, and taken noth-
ing, Luke v. 5; and yet, at his command,
essaying again, they took more at once, than
if, after their ordinary way, they had been
WER. 12.]
409
ON ROMANS XII.
taking all night. So as to others, givenot up
because thou seest no present success, but, in
thy place, admonish, eahort, and rebuke, with
all meekness and patience. Doth God wait
on sinners, and wilt not thou wait a little for
others ?
Fervent in spirit..] Beware of a fretful im-
patience; that is a sickly distempered heat,
as that of a fever, which makes a man unfit
for work, and men commonly in this break
away from their business; but much healthful,
natural heat makes a man strong and able to
endure labor and continue in it. This is the
thing here recommended. To be so hot and
fervent in spirit, is a great advantage ; it is
the very strength of the soul in all employ-
ments. Much love to God, and desire of his
glory, this is the heat that will not weary,
will cheerfully go through all discourage-
ments: many waters will not quench it. This
fervor of spirit, wrought by the Spirit of
God, doth clearly distinguish itself from that
inordinate heat of our spirits, which may some-
times either act alone, or mingle itself with
the other in the best causes and affairs. This
holy fervor is composed and regular in work-
ing, runs not headily to unadvised or disorder-
ly ways; it is a sweet delightful heat, not
painful and vexing as the other ; it carries on
to duty, and is not disturbed about events.
Serving the Lord.]. Some copies have it,
serving the time ; which may bear a fair con-
struction, of taking present occasions of good,
and being useful in our generation, and ac-
commodating ourselves in all lawful things
to times and persons, for their good, as our
apostle became all things to all, to win some ;
yet, this kind of expression not being found
elsewhere in Scripture, and the most copies
having it as we read it, and some mistake of
letters in transcribers seeming to have occa-
sioned it, it is much rather to be taken as in
our version.
But, out of all question, some do follow that
mistaken reading in its worst sense: instead
of serving the Lord, serving the times. And
this some do even in evil ways; others, in
ways that are good, yet, following upon trust,
and complying, though unwillingly, because
the times carry things so ; but when times
change to the worse, these men are discover-
ed, for still they serve their master, the times,
and their own advantage in them : which
way soever that goes, they follow ; so that
their following the better side in better times,
is but accidental.
But this serving the Lord, is more even
and lasting ; serving him still in all times,
doing all for him, having no aim but his glory.
Such a heart can not be diverted from its
course by any counter-blast of times.
Would you be steadfast in times of ap-
proaching trial, seek to have your hearts
acquainted with God, and fixed on him. For
others will be shaken : but such will follow
him through all hazards, and fear no ill while
he is with them.
VER. 12. Rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation;
continuing instant in prayer.
Rejoicing in hope..] Oh, this we seldom
do. When are our hearts as if transported
with the blessed hope of our inheritance 2
This would make us what follows.
Patient in tribulation.] People would hear
much of this, of preparing for suffering. There
may be a distemper in desiring to hear and
speak so much of that. What though trials
be coming, as it is likely they are, we should
account too much of ourselves, and this pres-
ent world, to dwell expressly on that subject.
We see the apostles do not so, though they
lived and wrote in the times of another sort
of persecution than we have yet seen ; and
they to whom the apostle here writes lived
where it was most violent and potent, and
yet they spend not all on this: some brief
words of it are interspersed with the discourse
thrown as it were into a parenthesis: but
still, the main is, the doctrine of faith and
rules of holiness. And these are indeed the
great furniture for all sufferings: I know no
other. To see much of the excellency and
worth of Jesus Christ, and the riches of our
hope in him ; to have these in our view, much
in our hearts and in our mouths; these drown
all the little fears of present things. See how,
in passing, our apostle speaks, as it were in
a slighting way, of all sufferings for him: I
have cast it up, says he, and I reckon that the
sufferings of this present time (of this Now)
are not worthy to be compared to the glory
which shall be revealed in us.
Again, the other thing is, the rules of holi-
ness: these powerfully enable for suffering
anything rather than unholiness. That sick-
ness of the soul, those corrupt humors of sin,
make it crazy, so that it can endure no blasts
of air; but when it is purged and free from
these, and in communion with God in his
ways, then it is healthful and strong, and so,
is able to endure anything. The mortifying
of our affections to the world, that is what
enables for suffering. Whither reaches the
cruelty of man, but to thy goods or thy body ?
And what makes any ſaint, but an over esteem
of these, by which they are filled with desires
to preserve, and fears to lose them 2 Now,
when the heart is disengaged from these, and
hath taken up in God, is rich and content in
him, it stands not much to the courtesy of
any : let them take the rest, it suffers with
joy, the spoiling of goods, having in heaven
a more enduring substance. Heb. x. 34. And
for the utmost killing them, they look on it
as the highest favor: it is to them but the
making a hole for them in their prison-wall
to get out at. Therefore, I say, there is noth-
ing doth so fit for all encounters, as to be
much instructed in that which is the substance
of Christianity, hearts purified, and lives holily
and spiritually regulated. In a word much
study of Christ, and much study of thyself for
aught I know, are the wisest and strongest
preparatives for all possible sufferings.
- 52
410
[WER. 12.
EXPOSITORY LECTURE ON ROMANS XII.
How sweetly can the soul retireinto him, and
repose in him, in the greatest storms ' I know
nothing that can much dismay him who can
believe and pray.” That, you see, is added:
Continuing instant in prayer.]. If afraid
of fainting, yea, if at the point of fainting, this
revives the soul, draws in no less than the
strength of God to support it: and what then
can surcharge it 3
* Nempe tenens quod amo, nihil, illum amplexus,
timebo. -
Thy access to him, all the enemies in the
world can not hinder. The closest prison
shuts not out thy God; yea, rather it shuts
out other things and companies, that thou
mayest have the more leisure for him, and the
sweeter converse with him. Oh! acquaint
yourselves with this exercise of prayer, and
by it with God, that if days of trouble come,
you may know whither to go, and what way;
and if you know this way, whatever befalls
you, you are not much to be bemoaned.
WER. 1.]
411
L E 0 TU R. E. S
ON THE
FIRST NINE CHAPTERS OF ST, MATTHEW'S GOSPEL,
**
CHAPTER I.
WER. 1. The book of the generation of Jesus Christ,
the son of David, the son of Abraham.
As the bounty of God appears in the furni-
ture and comforts of our natural liſe, in that
he hath not only provided for simple necessi-
ty, but enriched it with plentiful variety; thus
he hath done likewise toward the spiritual
life in the provision of the Holy Scriptures,
having in them so rich diversity of the kind
of writings, prophecies and histories, poesies
and epistles, and of the kind, and expressly
on the same subject, four books written by
the hands of four several men, but all led by
the hand of the same Spirit, and all of them
so harmoniously according together, as makes
up one song; the four with a delightful va-
riety of notes, but no mistuning, or jarring
difference: those that seem to be so, being
duly considered, do not only well agree, but
there is still some instructive advantage in
the diversity; each recording something, some
of them divers things that are not in the other;
and what one hath more briefly, is more en-
larged in some other: they are not so differ-
ent as to be discordant, nor so the same as to
be superfluous. Their order in the time of
their writing is, with good reason, conceived
to be the same with that of their placing as
we have them. This of St. Matthew was
written first, and very likely in Hebrew, as
more particularly for the use of his own na-
tion, though in His purpose who set him on
to work (as all the other scriptures) intended
for the good of the church in all succeeding
ages. And he begins with the great myste-
rious point on which hangs our happiness,
that which is our grand comfort, as St. Austin
speaks, the manhood of God. The chapter
hath these two, his genealogy, and his na-
tivity, each particularly intituled ; for the first
words are the inscription, not of the whole
book, nor of the whole chapter, but only of
the first part of it. The book, that is (as the
the Hebrew word signifies), the roll, or list
of the generation, that is, the descent of Jesus
Christ.
The account by ascending, as St. Luke does,
or by descending, as this evangelist, is alto-
gether indifferent; neither need we, with the
ancients, seek subtle and mysterious reasons
of it, which are too airy to have either cer-
tain truth, or profitable use in them. The
reckoning of the one only down from Abra-
ham, and the other up to Adam, may have
some more solid reason; the one having re-
gard to the particular promise made to Abra-
ham, and the other to the general interest of
mankind, and that according to the promise
made to our first parents in the garden. And
this beginning in Abraham here, relishes
somewhat of that we spake, of penning this
gospel in Hebrew, with particular respect to
the Jews for informing them first: as, indeed,
the gospel was first to be preached to them,
so might they have somewhat of the same
privilege in the writing of it—he of whom it
treats being born among them, and of them.
And before entering to branch the lineage, the
evangelist particularly mentions David and
Abraham, because of the particular promises
made to them of the Messiah to come of their
seed.
The great diversity of the names from Da-
vid to Joseph (of them all, indeed, save two)
has drawn several persons to take the one for
the line of Joseph, the other for the line of
Mary. But the diversity of names ariseth
not so much from the custom of that nation,
of one person having divers names (which
commonly is answered in this), though some-
what of that may be in it; but it is much ra-
ther from that, it seems, St. Matthew does
deduce the legal succession in government
(by Solomon), St. Luke the natural in birth
(by Nathan). St. Matthew, to make up the
number of his three fourteens, even omits
some immediate parents, which alters noth-
ing at all of the true deduction, and nephews
are frequently called, and truly are, the sons
of their grandfathers, though not immediate.
Now, though it is possible that it might be
otherwise, yet the evangelists take it as a
thing then manifest and known when they
wrote, that Joseph, according to the appoint-
ment and ordinary practice of his nation, did
marry within his tribe and family. So that
his extraction, who was but the supposed and
nominal father, doth give account of Mary,
the real mother of Jesus Christ. Other scru-
ples, though it may be to some needful to
clear them, yet I name not, as being useless
to acquaint those with who find them not,
And some there be altogether needless and
curious, which may pass among the vain, un-
profitable questions of genealogists that the
apostle advises to avoid.
412
[CHAP. ſ.
LECTURES ON THE FIRST NINE CHAPTERS
VER. 18. Now the birth of Jesus Christ was on this
wise: when as his mother Mary was espoused to
Joseph, before they came together, she was found
with child by the Holy Ghost.
ST. LUKE is more large in the history of the
conception, but (which the rest have not) this
evangelist acquaints us with Joseph's behavior
in the business. We have, 1st. His first
doubtful thoughts within himself: 2d. His
right information, and directions from God ;
3d. His answerable acquiescence and obedi-
€11Ce.
Perceiving Mary, who was espoused to him,
to be with child before they came together,
and not knowing how this came to pass, it
would certainly perplex him much ; yet goes
he not in a sudden passion, or rage of jeal-
ousy, to take the extremest course, but being
a just man, that is, not strict and severe, as
taking justice in a strict sense, for so it would
seem contrary to the present intendment;-
yet, some have taken it so, though he was a
just man ;-but it is indeed rendered as the
cause of his purpose of mitigating the law's
rigor, and so, just is here a good man, a man
of a moderate, mild spirit, averse from rigors,
as good men usually are. And as his own
temper, so, no doubt, Mary's carriage, did in-
cline him to this way; observing her modesty
and piety, which undoubtedly was singular,
and would appear in her whole deportment;
but further than that spake for her, it doth
not appear that she spake all this while any-
thing for herself: she offered not to declare
the admirable way of her conception, which
would have seemed feigned and incredible
from her mouth, but quietly refers the matter
to Him who had done it. Thus silent inno-
cency rests satisfied in itself, where it may
be inconvenient or fruitless to plead for itself,
and loses nothing by doing so, for it is al-
ways in due season vindicated and cleared by
a better hand. And thus it was here : she is
silent, and God speaks for her.
Wer. 20. While he thought on these things,
&c.] The whole matter is opened to him by
the angel of God in a dream. This blessed
child is owned by his glorious Father ; the
conception declared to be pure and supernat-
ural by the Holy Ghost; his birth and name,
and the reasons of it, are foretold ; and upon
these, Joseph is ascertained, not only of the
spotless innocency, but of the matchless dig-
mity, of his espoused Mary in this conception,
and the true quality of her Divine Son, and
so is furnished with sufficient ground of re-
ceiving her as his wife, which accordingly he
forth with did.
The last words of the chapter are added
for the future clearness concerning the purity
of his birth. But denying for the time before,
which was to the present purpose, affirms
nothing at all for the time after, as is evident
by abundant instances of this manner of
speech, where until goes no further than the
named term any way, yea, does rather im-
port the perpetuity of what it speaks; as Gen.
xxviii. 15, Until I have done that, &c., and Isa.
xxii. 14, Till ye die—which yet hath not been
alleged, for anything I know, for a purgatory
after death.
Wer. 22. In the narration, the apostle in-
serts (as is his custom) the parallel of the
thing with a prophecy foretelling all this, of
the accommodating of which I will not now
insist. It is evident that it looks beyond any-
thing that those times, or that any time, be-
fore this fulness of time, did afford. And this
singular Virgin's conception was altogether
agreeable to the singular person so conceived
and born, both as to the purity of his human,
and the dignity of his Divine, nature ; that he
might be known to be not only a holy, sinless
man, but more than a simple man, God-man,
God with us, as his name is.
Observation. The book of the generation
of Jesus Christ.] Many great volumes of
history have been written of states and king-
doms of the earth, and lives of particular fa-
mous men, and the reading of them may de-
light and inform the mind; but what are they
all, how empty and comfortless stuff in re-
spect of this history ! The book of the gener-
ation of Jesus Christ. This is the gospel, the
alone good tidings to all nations and all ages;
still fresh, and equally good news from One
generation to another. Had not the Virgin
borne this Son, we must say, all of us, “Good
for us we had not been born.”
Now, that so many ages were run by, be-
fore his coming, HIs will, who chose that
point of time, is sufficient reason. But, 1st.
We may perceive by this, that the faith of
the church and people of God was exercised
in the expectance of this promised seed, in
whom all the nations should be blessed.
2dly. And the esteem of this rich gift raised
(and well did he deserve to be) the desire and
hope of the nations. Thus the Lord hath
been pleased, in other great favors, to use
this way to reveal them in the promise long
time before the performance; so, a son to
Abraham, and the deliverance from Egypt,
and that other from Babylon long before the
captivity.
3dly. He was equally from the beginning,
in his Father's view, for the interest of be-
lievers, in all those preceding ages, as if he
had already lived and died and rose again,
A Lamb slain from the foundation of the
world ; for he sees through all generations
and successions of times, and all things in
them are always alike present to his eye.
But in the meantime, while the church was
held in prefiguring shadows, this was their
grand desire, that he might appear in the
fiesh ; still looking and waiting when the day
should break, and the shadows flee away.
And thus in the Song of Solomon may we take
that wish (ch. viii. 1), Oh! that thou wast as
my brother ' And t ough the time seemed
long, yet the vision was for the set time, and
then it spake, and lied not; and he was com-
ing forward in the succession of time, hastew-
WER. 1, 2.]
413
OF ST. MATTHEW'S GOSPEL.
ing as a roe on the mountains, skipping from
one age, from one hill to another: as here we
haye it, Abraham begat Isaac, Issac begat Ja-
cob, &c. And this is now the great wish of
his spouse, the church, and of each particular
soul espoused to him, that he would come
again as he hath promised ; and he will do
so. What a sweet echo there (Rev. xxii. 17)
of Come ! The Spirit says Come, and the
Bride says Come ; and he says (ver. 20), Be-
hold I come quickly; and they resound again,
Amen, even so, come, Lord Jesus !
Ver. 21. But thou shalt call his name Jesus.]
That is the name that refreshes the fainting
spirits of humbled sinners, that the sweet.
smelling balm, that the ointment poured out,
that draws the virgins to love him ; sweet in
the mouth and in the ear, and life in the
heart. A Savior, £. he shall save his people
from their sins. The Jews were his people
Once in a particular way; but all Jews and
Gentiles that run unto his name as their ref.
uge, are his people, and he hath engaged him-
self to be their Savior, whatsoever kind of
people they be, and whatsoever kind of guilti-
ness of sins they bring with them. And for
that reason, as is observed, are named in this
his genealogy, persons grossly stained, and
the woman too (ver. 3) is specified, all under
the same blot; and one a stranger, not of the
seed of the Jews; signifying him to be a Sa-
vior of all nations, and even of the vilest sin-
ners. But we know not his riches and our
Own poverty; therefore we run not to him.
We perceive not that we are lost and perish-
ing ; therefore a Savior is a word of little rel-
ish. Oh, were we convinced of the huge mass
of guilt that lies upon us, and the wrath that
for it hangs over us, ready to fall on us and
sink us, this would be our continual thought,
till we were resolved in it, “Is this Savior
mine 3”. And to the end we might find him
So, we should tread upon all that lies in our
Way to run to him.
wº-ººººº-
CHAPTER II.
VER. 1. Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of
Judea, in the days of Herod the king, behold there
came wise men from the east to Jerusalem
VER. 2. Saying, Where is he that is born king of the
Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and
are come to worship him.
THE blessed Son now born hath for part of
his name, in the prophet foretelling, or rather
telling his birth (Isa. ix. 6) Wonderful. He
is so in his birth ; that we have seen in the
former chapter. He is so in his life and death,
particularly in that part of his life which is
ordinarily scarce at all remarkable, his in-
fancy. The history of that we have in this
chapter. So, as in that place of the prophet,
wonderful is the beginning of his name, he
is ºdonderful in the beginning of his life.
That...wonder that goes along throughout
all his life and death, is, in the passages here
recorded, very legible, a strong contempera-
ture of majesty and meanness; yea, these
two, so far distant in notion, yet meet in him,
the meanness of man and the majesty of
God. So obscurely born and so poorly lodg-
ed, yet, that birth marked, and that lodging
pointed out, by a star that seems to have no
other work nor motion, but to tell of him and
lead to him; and by it wise men are led
from afar, to offer rich presents to a poor
babe, and to do homage to him as a king,
and to worship him
Then, afterward he is put to flee for his
life in his swaddling clothes. He who came
to give life to dead man, is in hazard of a
cruel death at the entry of his life, and es-
capes it by the obscure and hasty flight of
his parents with him ; yet, even in that flight
there is a track of majesty, that they flee,
stay, and return with him, all upon Divine
warnings. Thus was this Son of Righteous-
ness veiled and clouded in human flesh, and
a low kind of human life, and yet some rays
of Deity are still breaking through and tel-
ling, here dwells the Godhead bodily.
In this chapter, these two things of him
are remarkable. First, He is marvellously
witnessed and worshipped. Secondly, perse-
cuted and preserved.
He is witnessed, 1st, By a star stirring up
strangers from far, to seek him, and leading
them to find him.
2dly, By those strangers coming and de-
claring this to be their errand, and inquiring
after the place of his birth.
3dly, By the chief priests and scribes,
from a clear prophecy, resolving them.
Of these, and other like points in the fol-
lowing history, what questions are moved
more curious than useful, I shall either pass
wholly in silence, or only name them to pass
them, to put them out of our way, that they
may not stop us in what may be useful. And
textual difficulties that call for clearing, I
shall endeavor to open with as much brief.
ness as may well consist with clearness, and
to serve for that end of clearing them. For
this star, what shall we see the better into
the end and person whom it served, by de-
ciding, if we could, much less by debating
what we can not decide, whether it was a
star or a comet? Called a star for its resem-
blance, as the Scripture often gives things
the vulgar names, it seems to have been tem-
porary, and made for this singular service
only. However, it was a star that led to the
SUlD.
After men have pleased themselves in the
employ of all their reading and wit, to find
what the Magi were, further than the text
comes, they can assuredly inform us nothing.
They were Magi (wise men), and of the
east; but whether from Chaldea, or Persia,
or Arabia, neither that name they bear, nor
the presents they bring, can certainly con-
clude. It can not be denied, that all these
nations called their astrologers, and general-
414
[CHAP. II.
LECTURES ON THE FIRST NINE CHAPTERS
ly their philosophers, by that name; and
they might bring the same presents from any
of those, and from divers other eastern coun-
tries: nor is there any more evidence that
they were Balaam’s posterity, or of his
school, though the prophecy of a star arising
in Jacob seems to suit somewhat well with
this kind of notice given them by a star, and
with their observing it, and following it.
And truly, besides the uncertainty, the inu-
tility of this may save us a labor; for what
shall we be really the wiser, to know partic-
ularly what these wise men were, or whence
they were ? Sure I am, to make them three
to fit their number to their presents, and to
make kings of them, and give them names,
and then to wrangle about their burial-place,
is to play the fool about the wise men.
If you ask, how the star could speak this,
that there was a great king born, and born in
Judea, and speak it so as to persuade them to
come and see ? I conceive, all their skill in
astronomy, and Balaam’s prophecy of the star
in Jacob, and the tradition of the Messiah,
and his star, and sybils prophesying of them,
could not make the language of this star
thus clear and intelligible to them. There
Was, no doubt, an extraordinary darting in of
a higher light into their minds, clearer than
that of the star, to make its meaning clear
to them, and to draw them forth to this
journey. The star appeared to them in the
east, but it does not appear that it led them
all the way, though commonly it be so con-
ceived : on the contrary, after their setting
forth, it seems not to have appeared to them
till they came from Jerusalem, whither they
went as likeliest either to find him they
sought, or notice of him at least. And this
likewise was by a Divine hand ordered, that
both there they might give testimony of
Christ, and likewise receive their further tes-
timony of him and address to him, and be
confirmed in their persuasions concerning
him, and then seasonably the star appears
to establish and lead them.
Ver. 3. When Herod the king had heard
these things, he was troubled.]. The wise
men’s question occasions Herod's fear, and
that, the meeting of the priests and scribes
to resolve it. They do it from the prophet
Micah, ch. v. 2. The difference in the cited
Words is really none, Bethlehem Ephrata, and
Bethlehem Judah, being all one. And the
prophet's words, read interrogatively (as well
they may), are clearly the same thing with
the evangelist's narrative. However the
least of all in itself, yet, it was not the least,
but the greatest, by this great King's being
born in it. , And so, David bears the type of
his Son and Lord, for he was of obscure birth
in this same city.
Ver. 7–12. Then Herod, when he had priv-
tly called the wise men—sent them to Beth-
£ehem.] The wise men, thus answered and
led, came to Bethlehem, and are now so con-
firmed of the royalty of this child, that they
are not removed from that persuasion, nor at
all staggered in it, by the sight of so much
outward meanness as they found : a poor
babe in a common inn; whether still in the
manger or no, is not certain, so it may be ;
however, doubtless, in a very low condition,
far from royal grandeur, but yet so high in his
own dignity and in their thoughts, that they
fell down and worshipped, and offered their
present, which they did not to Herod in all
his pomp. This many ancient and modern
are pleased to subtilize into mysteries, which,
though I dare not confidently deny all, yet
dare I aver nothing. He that brought them
forth, directed them directly home, having no
more business at Jerusalem. When they had
found the king they came to seek, they left
king Herod to seek his intelligence from oth-
eTS.
Wer. 13–23. But these were strange news
to Herod—a born king of the Jews. The com-
mon fears that are of the ill genius of tyrants,
and that are the fell revenge of the many
fears they cause to so many others, are now
raised, and rage within him upon this report.
And for all his craft, and the growth of it for
cruelties upon long practice, yet is he, as it
were, so thunderstruck with this fear, that he
can not resolve on any sure way for this end,
but inquires the age of the child, and it seems,
defers a good time, and smothers the intend-
ed massacre (for that answers best the
doubt about the age of two years), and then
sends and kills all the children of or under that
age : that was the sacrifice which in his in-
quiry he meant to offer, instead of worship-
ping the child born. His royal Father could
have preserved him otherwise than by the
care and flight of his supposed father with
him ; but thus he pleased, even in this, to
carry on his divine Son under the covert of
such human and humble ways of preservation,
to make him in all things like us (sin ex-
cepted), and to sweeten those things to us,
when we are called to be like him in them,
in being persecuted, and by persecution for-
ced to flee.
That text, ver. 15, Out of Egypt have I
called my Son, suits most fitly, the words
having (as other such adapted places) their
prophetical aspect to Jesus Christ, with-
out any prejudice of their first proper sense,
in persons or things typifying him. Israel is
called the Lord’s son, and his first born, Ex.
iv. 22 ; Jer. xxxi. 9.
The other text, He shall be called a Naza-
rite, I rather think, signifies his singular ho-
liness, which the name imports, and all the
prophets foretold of him, and the legal Naza-
rites prefigured, than that it relates to any
particular prophecy. Besides, it is in the text
the prophets, in general: Which was spoken
by the prophets. Ver. 23.
Observe 1. The freedom of God's calling
and drawing men unto his Son; that it fol.
lows not the track of human appearances and
external engagements. Strangers are brought
WER. 13–23.
415
OF ST. MATTHEW'S GOSPEL.
from far to worship Christ, and are glad at
his birth. His own, among whom, and
those particularly for whom, he was born,
were not rejoiced, yea, were troubled at it;
so far were they from receiving him as their
king, and worshipping him. And strange,
that having resolved the Magi’s question,
they all sit still, for anything we find, and not
one is so taken with it, as to take share of
the small latter end of their long journey, and
to go some miles off, to see so great and
matchless a wonder . Thus, many who are
far off in their ways, are humbled and brought
to Christ, and those who in external profes-
sion seemed always near to him, are still far
off; nearest the church (as ye say) farthest
from God. My brethren, rest not on your
outward relations, your interest in the ordi-
nances and profession of religion, but see how
your hearts stand affected toward Jesus
Christ. If you receive him as king, then
shall ye partake of the sweet fruits of his
kingdom.
Obs. 2. There was some appearance of
reason (though, indeed, reasonless) that Her-
od should be stirred with the news of a new-
born king ; for though Christ's office never
wrongs the just power of kings, yet, the jeal-
ousy of it will never be out of their minds,
while they are not acquainted with him:
they will still think that his kingdom en-
croaches upon theirs; and this is the ground
of their almost general enmity against him.
But why were the Jews troubled, who could
not but apprehend, according to the very no-
tion of the Messiah, that if this was he, he
was come for their deliverance and release
from the tyranny of foreign power ? Yet,
they with Herod are troubled. The reason
seems to be, they feared that trouble and war
would arise by this appearing, and they might
possibly foresee much in the way to the
change, and therefore would rather have
chosen to lie still under the burden of the Ro-
man power. There is a natural prejudice in
all against the kingdom of Christ, that it
brings disturbance and disquiet with it, and
therefore men would rather sleep in their
chains than hear of a deliverance by him.
Thus, the Jews in Egypt appear to have been
prejudiced against the message of their going
forth, which Moses brought them. Thus, a
carnal heart would comply with its bondage,
rather than be at any pains in the remove
from it.
Obs. 3. Was the birth of Christ subject to
accompanying trouble 2 Thus it is in the
soul, a tumult as it were, of Herod and the
Jews. They that are without, viz., carnal
friends, all in a rage at it: “What turn a
melancholy, precise fool, go mad,” &c. And
within, like the tumultuous multitude, all the
lusts of the heart are clamoring for their in-
terest, noising to it, that it will suffer much
in this change, that all wonted delights will be
cutoff, that there will arise much war and trou-
ble by this new kingdom; besides many oth-
er doubts and fears that arise in this matter.
Think it not strange to find it thus, that
the soul is tossed with disquiet at the birth of
Christ in it; but rather let it rejoice in this
trouble, as a sign of that blessed birth, and
that spiritual kingdom of Christ within it,
which, however it occasion some present stir,
shall sweetly compensate that, and compose
the soul, and make it happy: for the Child
born is the Prince of Peace (Isa. ix. 6), and
the proper nature of his kingdom, that
whereof it is made up, is, righteousness, and
peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. Rom.
xiv. 17.
Obs. 4. Herod’s fear and anger against this
news gathers the priests and scribes together,
to give clear testimony from the Scriptures of
that very birth which was so hateful to him,
and to verify it by the true designment of the
place. Thus all his enemies’ practices still
prove, in the issue, of service to him ; all
all their stirrings against his kingdom and
glory make for it. When all is reckoned, it
is found in effect that they undo themselves,
and advance his end whom they oppose.
Obs. 5. Bring me word, that I may come
and worship him. Wer. 8. This is an old
piece of king-craft, we see, older than Ma-
chiavel, to serve themselves of the shadow
and mask of religion, in order to walk unseen
in their atheism. The most of them in their
wars and confederacies pretending religion,
and intending the subversion of it, would
seem to come to worship, and come indeed
to worry. Cultum pretendit, cultrum inten-
dit.
Obs. 6. Though Herod and the priests were
both enemies, yet they concur to this testi-
mony, and furnish it to the inquiring stran-
gers, but went not with them, nor so much
as sent any. Thus many testify, yea, teach
the truth of Christ in the general, yet go not
to him, as signs in the way direct others, and
stir not themselves. But, my brethren, think
it not enough to give a general assent to di-
vine truths, for unless the heart be warmed
with them, and the soul stirred up to seek
an interest in them, they save not, yea, they
more deeply condemn.
Obs. 7. Divers readings of the evangelists
and prophets, agreeing in one sense, are very
useful. Bethlehem the least, yet, not the least;
the least of thyself, but the greatest by the
birth of the great king born in thee. Thus
all are raised and ennobled by Christ. The
poorest persons, and things in themselves
most despicable, yet, through him, become
most excellent. The simplicity of the ordi-
nances, the word and Sacraments, so far be-
low the pomp of the world, and gaudy, false
worship, in outward visage, yet are mugh fur-
ther above them in inward dignity. Thus,
the soul of a poor, simple, unlettered believer,
that is the meanest and least in itself, far be-
low the greatest personsand great wits of the
world in naturals, yet, Jesus Christ being
born in it, is not the least, but in spiritual ex-
416
[CHAP. II.
LECTURES ON THE FIRST NINE CHAPTERS
celleney truly great, and far beyond all oth-
ers void of Christ.
Obs. 8. Christ newly born, is hotly perse-
cuted, put to flight, &c. This is a presage of
his after condition and entertainment in the
world in his own person, and still in his body,
his Church, the saints. No sooner is Christ
born in thee, than the wicked will be upon
thee, seeking to kill him with persecuting
malice, with scoffs and taunts at the least.
Obs. 9. All his notions are by divine di-
rection. Thus, his saints in all times, partic-
ularly in times of straits and troubles, must
still be depending on his pointing out of ev-
ery step, and are safe in following that.
Further, we may observe, that they whom
the Father intends to bring to the Son, shall
not want means of their calling and leading
to him. He will create a light in them, and
cause it to arise in their hearts to stir them
up to inquire after him. And when they
need direction, and seek it, he will furnish it
even where it would be least expected. If
they be driven to attend it at their hands who
go not to Christ themselves, even under a
ministry that hath little life in it, that is
formal and spiritless in itself, yet, if God hath
cast thy lot there, even there, I say, shall a
soul seeking after Jesus Christ find direction
and confirmation, and the word shall be made
lively to it by a higher hand; and though
they go not to Christ, yet shall they give thee
his true address, and direct thee right to him,
as here the scribes and priests did these in-
quirers.
Again, observe how God takes hold of men
by suitable ways. His call does not lie
wholly in the congruity of the means, but he
makes it effectual; yet, he carries that effica-
cy so sweetly, that there is not any violence
at all. Often in the means, that sweetness
consists in the particular aptness of them.
These were star-gazers, and he gives them
notice according to their faculty by a star.
Thus, some are taken with some accessory
qualification of a minister, baited by this to
give ear and take liking to his doctrine.
Thus, St. Augustine confesses he was caught
in hearing St. Ambrose, through delight in his
eloquence; for though he looked no farther,
yet, together with the words, he loved, the
things that he loved not did likewise slide in
and gain upon him. Again, they undertake
a long and hard journey, and resolve to go on,
and, missing him at Jerusalem, they inquire
there concerning him, and will not leave off
till they find him. A soul that hath once seen
a light pointing out Christ to it, and stirring it
up to seek after him, will not be driven back,
nor called off from going to him, by any dis-
couragements and difficultics : yea, they
sharpen it, and set an edge on it, and make
them so much the more earnest. Others can
speak of him, and lie still, and not stir to go
to him, as here the priests; but such a soul
must have him, and will not take rest with-
out him ; will still inquire where he is,
where and how I may find my Christ. . A
man may possibly meet with some for-
mal minister, that knows little of Christ,
and loves him less, who yet can tell such
an inquirer, that by believing he shall find
him, and instruct him somewhat about the
notion of faith, and inseparable repentance,
and leaving off sin, which things he him-
self, who directs, makes no use of, hath
no experience of at all; yet may his informa-
tion be useful to the soul seeking Christ, and
in following them it may find him. And as
it is in the first inquiry and journey to Christ,
so, in after seeking, upon his withdrawments:
as Cant. iii. and v. Though the watchman
that should direct thee deride and mock thee,
yea, though they smite and wound thee, yet,
if once thou hast found the sweetness of his
love, or but heard his voice speaking to thy
heart, and desiring it to open to him, thou
wilt not leave off thy search day or night,
till thou hast found him, in how mean a con-
dition and outward appearance soever: thou
wilt see through that, and behold him thy
king, thy beloved Lord, and see him beauti-
ful, all beauty and loveliness, and wilt be
forced to declare him so, that he outvies all
creature loves, as not worthy to be compared:
yea, that their enjoyments have not near so
much sweetness as the very seekings and
mournings after Jesus Christ.
Ver, 11. Fell down and worshipped him.]
When a soul is busy asking after Jesus Christ,
if it be inquired what would you do with him,
Why this is my purpose, will it say, I would
worship him. I would not only be saved by
him, but I would fall down and adore him,
and acknowledge him my king ; and if I had
anything better than another, I would offer
it him. But what hast thou? Hast thou rich
presents for him 2 Alas! no. These are
called wise men, and were, it seems, rich ;
had rich gifts. I am a foolish and a poor
creature, and I have nothing to offer.—Noth-
ing. Hast thou a heart 2 Yes: a heart I
have ; but, alas ! there can be nothing more
unfit for him, and unworthy of him : it is dark,
and foul, and hard, all disorder and filthiness.
Yet, wilt thou give it him as it is, and be wil-
ling that he use and dispose of it as it pleases
him 2 Oh, that he would accept of it, that
he would take it upon any terms! Here it is:
if it would fly out from this offer, I would he
would lay hold of it.—Oh! that it were once
received by him, that it were in his hand;
and then let him do with it what seems him
good. Sayest thou so 2 Then it is done.
Give it really and freely, and he will take,
and make it better at its worst, than all the
gold, and frankincense, and myrrh of all those
rich countries where they abound, and will
purify, rectify, and make it quite another
thing than it is. And it shall never repent
thee to have made a gift of it to him. He
shall frame it to his own likeness, and in re
turn will give thee himself, and be thine for
eWer.
WER. 1.]
417
OF ST. MATTHEW'S GOSPEL.
CHAPTER III.
ALTHOUGH the enemies of Jesus Christ,
and, for a time, even his friends and follow-
ers, mistook the nature of his kingdom, yet
he is a king. This being questioned, he him-
self avowed it before the Roman judge; and
even in his low estate on earth, yet were
there intermixed signs and characters of roy-
alty. To instance here no more, the for-
mer chapter hath the history of one of them,
and this of another. In that was the hom-
age done to him a little after his entering
into the world by birth. In this, we have
his harbinger preparing his way a little be-
fore his coming forth into the world, to man-
ifest himself in his words and works.
This chapter, you see, contains the history
of John Baptist—1st. The nature of his office;
2dly. The exercise of his office; and that
both generally to the multitude of the Jews
that resorted to his baptism, and particularly
to some of more eminent note among them,
the Pharisees and Sadducees, and singularly
on the person of Jesus Christ.
Wer. 1. In those days came John the Bap-
tist, preaching in the wilderness of Judea.]
This relates not to the history that goes be-
fore, but to that which follows to be recorded,
as the usual style of the Hebrew bears. It is
clear that many years fell between even the
greatest part both of Christ's life, and of John
Baptist's; in both which, from the birth to
the coming forth to preach, all the interve-
ning time is past over in silence, not only
here, but in all the other evangelists, saving
one act of Christ's appearing in public about
the age of twelve years, recorded by St. Luke,
which was but a glance of this jewel, that
lay locked up a long time after.
John the Baptist, an extraordinary person
in his birth and calling, holy from the womb,
a prophet, and more than a prophet ; and Je-
sus Christ himself far more than he, his Lord
and Master, the Prince of prophets; and yet,
neither of them came abroad in his ministry
till about the age of thirty years, the time
specified in the law for the service of the
house of God. But our ignorance makes us
bold and foolhardy; we rush forward not
knowing ourselves nor this calling, its excel-
lency and holiness, and our meanness and un-
holiness. This I say, not that I think meas-
ure doth punctually and literally tie us, espe-
cially the necessity of some times and the
scarcity of faithful laborers being considered,
upon which some may lawfully, yea, ought
to be drawn forth, if unwilling and yet able.
But surely, the consideration of these ex-
amples should give a due check and curb to
our usual precipitate hearts, which in these
times have need of some restraint, even in some
who possibly have some competency both of
abilities and true piety. Good fruit may be
plucked too green, which, let alone awhile to
ripen, would prove much more pleasant and
profitable.
In these two, their long lying hid is so
much the more remarkable, inasmuch as be-
sides their singular fitness for appearing much
sooner, they had so short a time allotted for
their course; the forerunner but about one
year, and our Lord Jesus Christ himself but
about three years and a half. But this was
the assigned time in the Divine wisdom,
which was found sufficient for the work com-
mitted to them ; and what needs more ? Let
not any grudge for themselves, or for any
other, their speedy removal, upon this con-
ceit, that they might, in nature's course, con-
tinue much longer, and in appearance, through
their labor be still more serviceable. Let all
rather study for themselves, and wish unto
others, that they my be diligent in their work
while their day lasts, be it short or long,
faithful and fruitful in their generation, and
the shorter their day is like to be, work the
faster; for certainly the good of life is not in
the length of it, but in the use of it.
There are between our Savior and this his
messenger or forerunner, divers notable agree-
ments: their being near of kindred ; their
births taking place in one year, and both fore-
told by an angel; and as Christ was the son
of a virgin, John the son of aged parents, and
a mother so long barren : little odds in the
time of both their appearing to the world,
and abiding in it; both sealing their doctrine
with their blood. But as in these, in all, the
Lord hath the pre-eminence beyond his ser-
Vant, so this faithful servant did always most
willingly acknowledge it, yea, his very busi-
ness was to abase himself and exalt his mas-
ter; and this he did, as we find throughout
his history. And those of the servants of
Christ that are most honored to be nearest
him, are always the greatest abasers of them-
selves, the most desirous to have him hon-
ored.
John's office, we have briefly expressed in
the first verse, partly in his name John Bap-
tist, a minister of baptism, and partly in the
word joined with it, preaching. Preaching
of the word was joined with baptism: John
the Baptist preaching in the wilderness.
I will not here speak of the nature of bap-
tism, the combinement of preaching with it;
their aspect each to the other, and concur-
rence to one excellent end ; the word unfold-
ing the sacrament, and the Sacrament sealing
the word; the word, as a light, informing
and clearing the sense of the seal, and it
again, as a seal, confirming and ratifying the
truth of the word: as you see some signifi-
cant seals or signets engraven, have a word
about them expressing their sense.
But truly, the word is a light, and the sac-
raments have in them of the same light illu-
minating them; and this of baptism, the an-
cients do particularly express by light. Yet
are they both nothing but darkness to us, till
the same light shine in our hearts: for till
then, we are nothing but darkness ourselves,
and therefore the most luminous things are
53
418
[CHAP. III.
LECTURES ON THE FIRST NINE CHAPTERS
so to us: moonday is as midnight to a blind
man. And we use these ordinances, the
word and the sacrament, without profit and
comfort for the most part, because we have
not of that Divine light within us; and we
have it not, because we ask it not, are not
often there where it is to be had, nor earnest
suiters for it: for we have his word that can
not fail, that our Heavenly Father will give
even this choice gift, this light (for that is it),
his Holy Spirit to them that ask it. Then
would word and Sacrament be sweet to us,
which now are so lifeless and unsavory.
Ver. 2. We have in the following words
the sum of his doctrine: Repent ye, for the
kingdom of heaven is at hand. In the point
of time and the way of his ministry, he was
indeed singular ; yet, the substance of his
doctrine is the same with those that went be-
fore, and those that came after him. All the
prophets preached repentance, and joined in
the prediction of this kingdom of God; and
our Savior himself, and his disciples, as you
will after find, preached not only this same
doctrine, but even in the same words: only
this he had particular, that he stood between
the two, as it were, the link of law and gos-
pel, as one calls him, and was the first that
said, The kingdom of God is at hand, and
pointed it out as come while he was speak-
ing.
Repent.] This is the main purport and end
of God's messages to man in all times, by all
whom he hath sent (as has been already
said), prophets, apostles, Jesus Christ and his
forerunner; and still, all his ministers under
the gospel, have no other in effect to say,
than to call men to repentance, to bring them
home to God. Man is naturally turned away
from God, and is still further running away
and hastening to the pit; and God is calling
after him, Do not destroy yourselves, I will
receive and pardon you; Oh I return ; why
will ye die 2 And yet, men will not hearken,
but run to their ruin. This word is daily
preached; and yet who almost is persuaded
so much as to stop his course a little and con-
sider what is propounded to him, much less
to break off his course and return ? Oh, the
bountifulness and graciousness of God, who
thus entreats, and still entreats base worms,
whom he might tread on and crush in a mo-
ment " Oh, the wretchedness and madness
of man who refuses, and still refuses those
gracious entreaties You have been called to
in these terms, and where are they that re-
turn ? Where are hearts breaking for their
iniquities; and breaking away from them,
mourning after the Lord, and longing for a look
of his countenance, and desiring nothing else?
Oh! that some soul might now be stirred up,
and set but upon thoughts of repenting, seri-
ous, real thoughts that would not die! The
Lord will reach forth his hand and draw it to
himself, though it find it can not stir : yea, in
that very desire of returning to him, he hath
prevented it and touched it, and will not lose
it, will not suffer it, and his begun work in it,
to perish.
For the kingdom of heaven.]... Ay, this is
the attractive, that which puts life and hope
into the soul. Jesus Christ, peace and recon-
cilement in him to God—this is the kingdom
of heaven. And here it was at hand, and it
came, and was published through the world.
And throughout all ages of it, the gospel is at
hand, in the gracious offers of it to all that
hear the word; and it is brought into the
souls that believingly receive the word, and
Jesus Christ revealed in it. This gives both
hope to the sinner, and stirs up desires.
Were there not a way of receiving him, it
were in vain to call men to return ; but see-
ing there is a ransom found—seeing the way
is opened up—who is there that have eyes
opened to behold that mercy, that will delay
any longer ? that will not hasten into it, and
lay hold upon it 2
The gospel is not a doctrine of licentious-
ness, but the pure and sweet word of that
new life which is in Christ. And though in
the notion of repentance, there is an aspect
to, and use of the law, convincing of sin
and death, and working a sense of misery and
sorrow from that sense, yet all this it works
most sweetly and kindly, contempered with
and adapted by, the doctrine of the gospel; for
in this they mix and agree, and throughout all
the Scriptures of both Testaments, run com-
bined, as they do in the words of the sermon
here. For this is the sum of the law and the
gospel as they now stand to us-ward; Re-
pent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at
hand. Nothing is so powerful as the doctrine
of free grace to convert a soul, not excluding
convincements of sin by the law, but so in-
cluding them that that deadly, killing sen-
tence, thus prepared, becomes excellently
medicinal (as the treats that are made of vi-
per's flesh ; the law, in regard of condemning
power, being now dead, and not only dead,
but so qualified by the cordial promises of the
gospel, that it does not really condemn, but
only shows condemnation out of Christ, and
so causes the soul to close with Christ, and
find salvation and life with him : as the dead
viper's flesh, so compounded, hath a secret
virtue to advance the working of those ingre-
dients that are in the composition against
poison.
For the kingdom, &c.] This is the logic
and rhetoric of the Scripture, to persuade ho-
liness and repentance by the grace and par-
don revealed in the gospel. Those beams of
love and free mercy are most powerful to
melt the heart. Now, says he, the great
Messias is at hand. He is come: whatso-
ever have been men's ways before, now they
may come home unto God in him. And will
not they, seeing he is come from heaven to
save 2 Will they not come from the way of
hell, from sin, to be saved by him 2 And
thus the Lord Jesus is daily set before us,
and, in him, free forgiveness of all that is
WER. 3–8.]
419
OF ST. MATTHEW’S GOSPEL.
past; and if men will perish in multitudes,
they must perish ; but you that have a mind
to live, come to him.
Wer. 3. For this is he that was spoken of by
the prophet Esaias.] His calling is further
expressed and confirmed by a prophecy of
him, designating him by the nature of a
voice, The voice of one crying in the wilder-
ness ; and his cry is, Prepare the ye way of the
Lord, &c., which suits well with the forego-
ing sum of his preaching, is in effect the
same with it. Repent is, prepare the way of
the Lord, and make his paths straight. Re-
pentance levels the heart to God, makes it a
plain for Christ to walk in, casts down the
mountains of pride, and raises the soul from
base, low, earthly ways and affections,
smooths the rugged passions, and straightens
the crooked deceit of the heart, makes it
sincere and straight both toward God and
man. And then the reason, The kingdom of
God is at hand, is implied in that, Prepare
his way : that says, He is coming, is upon his
Way, and therefore sends his harbinger to
make it fit for him. And this is our business,
to be dealing with our hearts, levelling,
Smoothing, and straightening them for our
Lord, that he may take delight to dwell and
walk in them, and refresh them with his pres-
ence; and, certainly, the more holy diligence
is used in suiting the heart to his holy will,
the more of his sweet presence shall we enjoy.
Ver, 4. And the same John had his raiment
of camel's hair.] He is further described from
his habit and course of life, suiting the nature
of his calling, and the strain of his preaching.
A preacher of repentance, not willingly re-
sorting to courts and cities, but keeping in the
wilderness; that was, not a place altogether
uninhabited, but a less peopled, mountainous
soil, the very place of his birth ; who had his
habit and diet like the place, and like the
employment. Though his solitude and rough
garments are a slender hold for the hermeti-
cal way magnified in the Romish church, when
that of Zechariah fits better, and their clothes
are Sooner shaped to that pattern, where he
speaks of those false tongues that wear a rough
arment to deceive, Zech. xiii. 4.—yet certain-
y, besides somewhat extraordinary and singu-
lar in him and his calling, to which this was
consonant, there is this for the example of
all the messengers of God, to live as much as
may be in their condition and station, dis-
engaged from the world, not following the
vain delights and ways of it; not bathing in
the solaces and pleasures of earth, and entang-
ling themselves in the cares of it, but, sober,
and modest, and mortified in their way of
living ; making it their main business not to
please the flesh, but to do service to their
Lord, to walk in his ways, and prepare his
way for him in the hearts of his people. Fur-
ther, this was implied in this mean way of
life, that the less of human grandeur, the
more of Divine power, and of the majesty of
God, might appear in his ministry.
Wer. 5. Then went out to him Jerusalem,
and all Judea, and all the region round about
Jordan.] That is, great multitudes flocked
to him, to hear him, and be baptized. For
though baptism, in the way he used it, was
not usual, yet their accustomed use of legal
worship made it the less strange, and the
more acceptable to them. And being accom-
panied with the doctrine of repentance, re-
mission of sins, and the news of the kingdom
of heaven approaching, it could not choose
but find some reverence and attention. But
certainly, of multitudes that will run to the
word, and, possibly, particularly flock after
the ministry of some for a time, there may be
many, as doubtless were there, that are but
light stuff, carried with the stream as corks .
and straws are. Men should examine well
even such things as seem to speak some love
to religion in them, whether they be real or
not. This, John does not spare to tell home
to the seemingly best of those that came to
him, that esteemed themselves, and were
esteemed by others, more religious than the
multitude. Yea, the Spirit of God directed
him to deal more sharply with them than with
others that came to him ; they being of all
others commonly most confident of self-righ-
teousness, and therefore farthest from the
true work of repentance, which humbles the
soul to the dust, and lays it low in its own
eyes: these sects being, beyond the multitude,
swelled with conceit of their own estate, he
spares the rest, and pricks them sharply, that
the tumor may fall. It may seen somewhat
strange that he entertains so roughly those
that came respectfully to him, and with others
were willing and desirous to hear his doctrine,
and partake of his baptism. Was not this
the way to beat them back, and make them
distaste both ?
There is, indeed, much prudence required
in the ministers of the word, to know to at-
temper their admonitions and reproofs, that
by too much rigor they discourage not weak
beginners who are inquiring after the ways
of God; but withal they should be no less
wary that by too much credulity and lenity
they sooth not any in their formality and car-
nal confidence. And the most we have to
deal withal, commonly are in most hazard
upon this hand; there is too little heart-
humbling. And many are ready to take up
some piece of reformation of their ways, and
the externals of religion, and deem themselves
presently good Christians. Oh! the deceit
and slothfulness of our hearts' How ready
are we to lay hold upon an easy guise of Our
own, and think what some further press, is
but melancholy and needless preciseness |
Wer. 8. Bring forth therefore fruits meet
for repentance.] Though he wonders at their
coming, and fairly tells them so, yet he rejects
them not, despairs not of them; he gives them
sound advice, which implies always some
hopes of prevailing. Give none up for despe-
rate; catch hold of what they do, to drive
420
[CHAP. IV.
LECTURES ON THE FIRST NINE CHAPTERS
them to what further they ought to do. . You
profess to flee from the wrath to come 5 bring
forth fruits then. You say you are Christians
and believers: Oh! let your ways and lives
say so. Let Christ dwell in your hearts, and
be shown in your lives. th
Wer. 9. Think not to say, We have Abraham
to our father.] The foolish heart is still lean-
ing to this fancy of external relations and priv-
ileges. Beware; rest not on these—the re-
formed religion, pure ordinances, or a place
of esteem possibly among the strictest sort
of reformed professors. And do not think you
put an obligation on religion, and that it is
indebted to you ; but pray take heed. God
can leave you, and deliver you up to these
vain thoughts, and provide himself without
you. He can draw the remotest and unlike-
liest to himself, and let you go.
Wer. 10. And this is a sifting, trying time.
He comes, who will unmask your hypocrisies,
and search you to the bottom ; who will lay
his are to the root of the trees, and cut up the
fruitless. Where the gospel comes in great-
est power, there is the certainest, and saddest
weight of judgment on the unbelieving and
impenitent, the formal and fruithess.
Wer. 11. I indeed baptize you with water.]
The true badge of a messenger of Jesus Christ
is, to abase himself and to magnify his master.
Baptism with the Holy Ghost, and with fire,
may, possibly, have some aspect to the singu-
lar sending of the Holy Ghost in fiery tongues.
That purifying virtue, that flame of love, oh,
that we found it !
Wer. 12. And only they, the wheat, are for
the garner, they that are pure and spiritual:
the chaff, light and vain hearts, are fuel for
the fire. No middle class: we must be either
baptized in that fire, or burnt in this.
Wer. 13–15. In the baptism of Christ, ob-
serve the exemplary humility both of the
master and of the servant: of the master, in
subjecting himself to this ordinance; of the
servant in administering it, first, in his mod-
est question and declining it, and secondly,
in his quiet yielding and obedience. He that
was so pure and spotless, had no need of
that, or any other washing ; He, the Lamb
of God, that takes away the sin of the world,
as this John testified; He, the fountain open-
ed for sin and iniquity, and therefore, well
says he, I have need of thy baptism. Yet
here he humbles himself to be baptized. Oh
that we who are baptized had more of his
likeness in this humble reverence for Divine
ordinances, looking on them as his in every
warranted hand. What though he that
teaches be less knowing and less spiritual
than thou that hearest, one that might rath-
er learn of thee, yet the appointment of God
obliges thee to attend as humbly and regard-
fully to his ministry as if he were an angel.
John recoils a little. Thus truly, as he in
regard to the person, so will every humbled,
self-knowing minister, eyen in reference to
the ordinances themselves, wonder often, and
be sometimes at the point of forbearing. Oh!
who am I, to handle such holy things, to
stand in so high a service, to convey life, I
that am dead to administer so high, so pure
and purifying ordinances, myself so impure :
But again, being commanded and engaged of
God’s own hand, that overcomes and silen-
ces; and in the continuing in the work upon
that consideration, there is no less, yea, the
greater humility, than in the other thoughts
of unfitness; a submissive resignation of a
man to his Lord. However the matter seem
to me, and truly I deem myself unworthy of
the lowest employment without thee, yet,
thou appointing, I have no more to Say: good
reason thy will stand, and not mine.
Wer. 16, 17. Now, in the baptism, the hu-
mility of both is richly rewarded with so glo-
rious a vision and voice. The thing is mean
and low in the common form of it; baptized
in the common river. Oh what transcend-
ent glory in such a manifestation of that bles-
sed Trinity on earth, that is the perpetual
wonder and happiness of heaven. Oh, that
we had eyes to see it, and that our hearts
were more taken with this glance here and
the hopes of full vision ere long ! Like a
dove. Oh that that Spirit were more abun-
dant in us, flowing from our Head, on whose
head it here rested.
My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleas-
ed.] In this word lies all the comfort of a
Christian. No pleasingness, nor acceptance,
indeed, out of him; but in him, all accept-
ance of all who are in him. Nothing de-
lights the Father but in this view. All the
world is as nothing in his eye, and all men
hateful and abominable by sin. Thou, with
all thy good-nature, and good-breeding, and
good-carriage, art vile and detestable out of
Christ. But if thou get under the robe of
Jesus, thou, and all thy guiltiness and vile-
ness, then art thou lovely in the Father's
eye. Oh that we could absolutely take up
in him, whatsoever we are, yet shrouded un-
der him Constant, fixed believing is all.
Let not the Father then see us but in the Son,
aud all is well.
CHAPEER IV.
WER. 1. Then was Jesus led up of the Spirit into the
wilderness, to be tempted of the devil.
THE apostle doth fitly style our Lord Jesus
the captain, or leader, of our salvation. He
marches, leads all the way, puts us on noth-
ing that he hath not first encountered. And
in his going before, there is that decorum
there marked, Heb. xii. 10: It was meet he
should be made §§ by sufferings. So
particularly by this ind, that is the sharpest
sensation, by these he was entered into his
calling; initiated or consecrated, as the word
there is. Let none, therefore, of his follow-
ers think to go free. If you mean to follow
WER. 1—3.]
42t
OF ST. MATTHEW'S GOSPEL.
Christ, reckon for temptations, to meet them
even at first, and so in all the way. We read-
ily misreckon, though warned ; we count as
we would have it; write up such ease and
joys, &c., and think not on afflictions with-
out, and temptations within, which yet are
much our portion here. Unwise to put to
sea and expect no storms, nothing but fair
weather | Let this be our warning, that we
be not secure; we shall meet temptations.
But let this be our comfort, that we be not
dismayed, that in this we do follow him. He
went before us in this conflict, and overcame
before us, and for us ; and we likewise, in
his strength, shall overcome.
Then.—When 2 Look backward. Then
—presently after he was baptized, and not
simply by the water of Jordan, but by the
Spirit from heaven, and was singularly re-
plenished, full of the Holy Ghost, as St.
Luke hath it, Luke iv. 1. Thus shalt thou
be sure to be assaulted when thou hast re-
ceived the greatest enlargements from heav-
en, either at the sacrament or in prayer, or
in any other way ; then look for an onset.
This arch-pirate lets the empty ships pass,
but lays wait for them when they return
richest laden.
Then. — Again, Look forward. Then —
when he was to enter on his work, his pub-
lic ministry. Thus look to be assailed, when
thou art to engage in any special service.
Each according to his place will find this:
when he is upon some purpose of honoring
God in any particular undertaking or course,
and is nearest the performance, then shall
the strength of hell be mustered up against
him. Now, knowing it to be thus, this ought
rather to embolden than discourage us in any
such way. This expert enemy knows his
interest well, and does not thus bestir him-
self lightly, but feels that his kingdom is in
danger, and that he shall certainly be a loser.
Now, as this is incident to every Christian,
and particularly, according to the eminency
of their service, to ministers of Jesus Christ,
as here to him when toward entering on his
own ministry, so, in this, they should rein-
force themselves in him ; should follow him
on, and apply and employ him for the victory.
This [temptation] was one of Luther’s
schoolmasters, and so it is to all the servants
of Christ; and so are all the three, prayer,
meditation, and temptation. And this is very
needful, that both with the more skill, and
with the more compassion, they may be help-
ful to them that are tempted. Certainly, in
all things, experience gives the deepest sense
and the readiest faculties. He who was here
tempted, could know more by speculation
than ever any man ; yet it was found meet
that even he should be trained by the expe-
rience of these things, as in that cited place,
Hebrews ii. 10—perfected as captain, made a
complete commander by hard services, suffer-
ings, and temptations. So Heb. iv. 15, and
v. 2–8. Men expert in war, laugh at the
learnedest discourse of pedants, as is reported
of Hannibal.
Oh heart-feeling is a main thing in this.
It is going to the wrong hand, for a troubled
or tempted Christian to go to an untroubled,
untempted minister, who never knew what
that meant. Their errand takes not : they
find little ease in complaining of their grief to
him that never felt such a thing; as Nazian-
zen observes, that they who are stung with a
serpent, can not endure to bemoan themselves
to any but some that have felt the pain. To
have found such trouble, and then an issue,
such and such comfort—oh, it enables much
in that case. See 2 Cor. i. 4, 6.
Led by the Spirit..] That same Spirit that
came down on him in baptism, ch. iii., here
leads him forth to his conflict, not for this
alone, to seek it, but leads for such exercise
there, wherein it was designed and appointed
to meet him. The Spirit in us doth not carry
us wilfully seeking of temptations; yea, we
pray by his direction who was thus led, that
we may not be led into temptations ; that is,
that we may be so led into them as not to be
left to them and foiled in them ; but he leads
us into those places and employments, when
we follow his leading, wherein, by God’s dis-
posal, we do meet with temptations. And to
be thus led any way whatsoever, is safe, and
the issue happy, as here it was. That is
sweet in all things, to be carried ; not to go of
ourselves any way, but that of each step it
may be said, Led by the Spirit. Led to be
tempted, in order that he might return with
the glory of the victory.
Into the wilderness.] This is the field cho-
sen for this duel between the roaring lion of
the bottomless pit and the royal line of the
tribe of Judah. This serpent tempted the first
Adam in the garden, and the second Adam in
the wilderness, with different success indeed ;
and ever since doth still tempt the posterity
of both, in all variety of places and conditions,
in several ways suitable. Company and con-
versation have their temptations; and soli-
tude, even the wilderness, hath its own too.
No place or estate on earth is privileged ; no
business, not lawful laboring, eating and
drinking, yea, not fasting and praying ; yea,
in these are readily the most assaults, but in
them likewise the sweetest victory: as here.
Verse 2. And when he had fasted forty
days.] Though this was a miraculous and
extraordinary fast, as a mark of his extraordi-
nary person and calling, and of the ministry
of the gospel's harmoniously according with
the law and the prophets, Moses and Elias,
yet, surely a holy fast it was, wherein our Sa-
vior (as those his forerunners, no doubt) fed
upon prayer and Divine contemplation. e
He hungered.] So all along, as in this
fast, so, with his following hunger, Divine
power combined with human weakness, such
as was sinless.
Wer. 3. If thou be the Son of God..] Doubt-
less the tempter was in some doubt himself
422
[CHAP. IV.
LECTURES ON THE FIRST NINE CHAPTERs
about this; though he saw many concurrent
proofs of it, yet thought possibly it might be
otherwise, and therefore tries. And as he ex-
presses his own doubt, so he suggests the
doubt to our Savior. It is vain to specify
these three temptations by three particular
sins, for they are each complicated and made
up of variety, as usually all sins are. In this
I would not exclude something of working on
appetite, stirring to an impatient, intemperate
haste in satisfying that ; and the exception is
weak, that it is not delicacies, but bread that
is propounded, for that is as strong a tempta-
tion in extreme hunger as delicacies; but the
main is unbelief, and so making haste. So,
in the first temptation of our first parents, the
matter of pleasing appetite made some ingre-
dient, but the chief thing was unbelief: Yea,
hath God said Ž Gen. iii.6. And so here, If
thou be the Son of God. And as that was
joined to pride, stirring them to a proud de-
sire to be gods, so, in this case, Satan aims at
drawing a needless show of it, that Christ
was God. And our Savior's answer meets all
these suggestions: that of his pressing hun-
ger, finding another answer for it than bread;
that is not the only thing for it; that of doubt.
ing or unbelief (as it was the main evil, so
the main of the answer stands opposed to it),
trusting in the word of God, that is, in his
power and effectual support. I need not my-
self try conclusions to see whether I be the
Son of God, nor (which answers the bent of
it) need I at this time give a trial that I am
the Son of God. So he diverts the satisfying
him in that point of his Godhead, and answers
only for a man: Man shall not live upon bread
alone, &c.
The second and third temptations, whether
they were by change of place, or representa-
tion of species, as I think it can not be forci-
bly either concluded or refuted either way, so
it is not of much benefit or importance that it
should be. The motion of throwing him
down headlong (though it is not thus urged
by any that I remember) seems to me with
the strongest appearance to incline to a real
standing upon the place ; for if not, then it
was necessary that both the place and the
steepness should not only be represented to
our Savior’s imagination, but that he should
really believe that he was there; otherwise,
the temptation of casting himself down thence
were altogether null, and could have no place.
Nor, though it may be granted that he might
suffer a false representation (somewhat of
which must likely be allowed, to make up the
third temptation, with the advantage of a
high mountain), yet, whether we may fairly
admit in our Savior an apprehension of such
a false representation as true, should be con-
sidered.
But leaving that, we find the second tempt-
ation to be, clearly, to a presumptuous tempt-
ing of God, and the third, to the horridest
apostacy from God, even to worshipping of
the devil, and that baited with an offer of the
world; first to commit idolatry to it, and then
next, to himself for it. He is clearly beat off
in all; it could not be otherwise. But truly
this may seem strange, that Satan durst sug
gest such horrid, foul notions, to so holy, so
singularly holy a man, for that at least he
knew him to be, and had strong suspicions that
he was more than a man, even the Son of God.
And this I think the sovereign satisfaction
of a soul, in the matter of blasphemous injec-
tions, which many, even holy persons, are
troubled with : much is said to it by many :
but surely there is nothing like the view of
this instance. That he uses thee so, what
wonder . He had the hardiness even to use
thy Lord so, who was so high above all stain
of sin, as in all things, so in these. True, in-
deed, we can not well avoid all soil, but some
guilt sticks to us; as from the throwing of a
dirty ball against the wall, though it is pres-
ently beat back, yet it leaves a spot behind ;
our nature being so easily receptive of sinful
defilement. But he was altogether undefile-
able in all assaults; yet this is our grand com-
fort, that he was tempted, and even that with
such vile things. So, then, if finding any such
thing, cry to him for help, as one who can
feel it, and entreat him to see how grating
these thoughts are to thee, and to pity thee,
and repel Satan ; and he will do it, and will
account those not thy sin at all, but his ; and
if anything stick, will wash it off with his
own blood.
Observe. The devil can cite scripture. Re-
ceive not, then, everything at first, that comes
with an it is written ; and as not everything
of men's opinions thus backed, so, not those
doubts that are raised within thee, and man-
aged against thee in this way. How often
does Satan make a poor believer at a stand
by some scripture objection' But take this
course; follow thy Captain in this. Satan is
a liar, and cuts and pares when he cites; as
he here left out, thy ways, to make room for
Cast thyself headlong, which was not the
way. Now our Savior does not contest with
him about this, takes no notice of that sleight,
but in a plain, full counter-blow, beats him
out of it, gives him another it is written, that
carries clear how he abused his. And there
is admirable wisdom in this, much more than
if he had disputed about the word which all
observe here, was cunningly left out; for in
this, our Savior teaches us our better way in
this case, either with perverse men, in the
avouching of their errors, or with Satan, in
his thus assaulting us with misalleged scrip-
ture, not so much to subtilize about the very
place or words abused. It may be so cun-
ningly done sometimes, that we can not well
find it out ; but this downright, sure way
beats off the sophister with another place,
clearly and plainly carrying that truth which
he opposes and we adhere to. So, though
thou canst not clear the sense of an obscure
scripture, thou shalt always find a sufficient
guard in another that is clearer,
VER. 10–17.]
423
OF ST. MATTHEW'S GOSPEL.
Our Savior was pleased thus to bear many
assaults, and thus to fence and beat off the
tempter by the word, both for our instruction
and comfort, who otherwise, for himself,
could immediately have repelled him, and
sent him back at first. But indeed he pleased
not himself in anything; had an eye to us in
all he did and suffered, and did all in refer-
ence to our advantage. Oh, how should we
love him
And let not any abuse of the Scripture, by
Satan or by men, abate our esteem, or lead
us to abandon our use of it ; but let us study
it still, labor to be well acquainted with it,
make it our magazine, have ready our de-
fences thence in all kinds of assault. Oh! let
this word dwell richly in us, for it is our life.
A stone out of this brook smites Goliath. And
observing these evils here, labor to be forti-
fied against them. Surely they were main
ones, that were brought forth in this combat.
Ready we are either to distrust our God, or,
in abused confidence, to presume upon unwar-
ranted ways. And, for the third temptation,
how strong is it, though not to gain that
gross point of disclaiming God for love of the
world, yet, how many hearts are secretly and
insensibly inveigled and stolen away from
him by it, drawn to neglect his worship, or to
cold remissness in it, and to follow the ways
of the honor, gain, or pleasures of this world,
that Satan suggests, and so to worship him
and it altogether, instead of the Lord our God,
whom alone we are to adore and serve, and
whose due is all our heart
Ver. 10. Get thee hence, Satan.] . Thus,
when anything moves to debauch and draw
off the heart from God, it is to be beat away
with indignation. And thus in all conflicts,
continue fighting in thy Lord's strength: give
not over, resist still, and the enemy shall flee,
as here.
Wer. 11. Then the devil leaveth him.] Re-
tires, indeed, but it was for a season, as St.
Luke hath it there, ch. iv. 15. So we should
still make for new onsets, and not promise
ourselves, upon a cessation, perpetual quiet,
but rather fortify in those times of breathing.
But this know, that our Lord is tender of us,
and will inlay our painful conflicts with sweet
comforts. Let us remember to call our I, ord
to take him off, and he will not see us sur-
charged or tempted above what we are able,
or he enables us, to bear: and he will refresh
us with consolations, strong consolations as
we need. And these in a high degree usu-
ally follow hard conflicts patiently and stoutly
sustained. Our Lord had a cordial draft both
before and after this conflict: before, in the
last verse of chapter iii., he was confirmed in
the very point he was assaulted in : This is
my beloved Son. And as he was confirmed
before, so was he comforted after : The an-
gels came and ministered to him. Oh the
sweet issue our Lord gives to many a sad bat-
tle of weak Christians, wherein they possibly
thought once that it was lost, and that they
could never hold out, and come through it.
But never think so: we shall come through
all, and the day shall be ours.
Wer. 12. Now when Jesus had heard that
John was cast into prison, he departed into
Galilee.] We need not fear. God uses men,
but needs them not: when they are restrained
or removed, he can provide more. When John
is shut up, Jesus comes forth.
Wer. 13. And leaveth Nazareth.] Not being
honored in his own country. So, commonness
of things makes them cheap and low with us,
how excellent soever. This disease of light-
ness and novelty, so natural to us, we have
need to watch against.
Wer. 14–16. That it might be fulfilled, &c.]
Now the prophecy is raised to its higher
sense. The relief which the prophet speaks
of, in relation to a temporal sense, was but a
shadow. This is light indeed, Jesus coming
into their coasts; the Sun of righteousness
arising. Oh, how pitiful is the condition of
those nations that still are in darkness, desti-
tute of his light! How should we pity them
But how much more pitiable their condition,
who, in the midst of this light, are still in
darkness; it shining in their land, but not in
their hearts | These still are under the shad-
ow of death. Oh fear and tremble, you that,
in the clear gospel light, are sitting still in
your natural darkness of mind and hardness
of heart, and still loving that darkness, and
refusing this Divine light. Oh! let it in, that
you may live, and not pass from darkness to
darkness, from inward darkness to utter dark-
ness, where is nothing but weeping, and wail-
tng, and gºº.
Wer. 17. From that time Jesus, began to
preach.] So gave he forth light by preach-
ing, showing the way of Salvation. And he
was eminently, the light—he that very way
of salvation. He, the Prince and Savior ex-
alted to give repentance, and remission of
sins, and the kingdom, yet humbles himself
to be the Herald, to proclaim his own gift
and pardon. And in humbling himself to
this work of preaching, he hath highly ex-
alted it. Shall ever that be accounted low,
aud fit only for mean persons, which the
Lord of glory made his calling and work in
the world 2
And to say, Repent, for the kingdom of
heaven is at hand.] This was said before to
be the sermon of his forerunner ; not only the
same sense, but the very same words. He
who needed to borrow from none, but gives
all to all, yet disdains not to preach this over
after John Baptist. There is certainly a pride
and vanity in the minds of men, in that ex-
treme affecting still either to speak or hear
new things. Oh, were you called together
often, and this said as ſrom God, Repent ye,
for the kingdom of heaven is at hand, and
found obedient, now one heart yielding, and
then another, though it might seem poor to
vain heads, yet oh, what excellent preaching
were it! God's voice more regarded and
424
[CHAP. W.
LECTURES ON THE FIRST NINE CHAPTERS
owned, would make that sweet which we of
ten despise.
Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at
hand. Oh, sweet invitation, the offer of a
pardon to a repenting sinner! but how much
more that of a kingdom | He might say, Re-
pent, for the prison of hell is at hand, if ye do
not; but rather he this way draws, by the
happiness and giory attending our return.
Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at
hand. And at hand to you, if ye repent, to
be yours; grace and all the rich promises of
it, and, within a while, full glory. And no
more ado; it is at hand. Let go your hold
of the one, and straight catch hold of the
other ; it is at hand. But who believes this ?
-If we do, what madness is it not to accept
It
The chapter hath, first, our Savior's prepa-
ration to his public calling; secondly, his be-
gun administration of it in all the three parts,
preaching of the gospel, calling disciples, and
working miracles.
Wer. 18. And Jesus walking by the sea of
Galilee, saw two brethren.] Here we have
the calling of two pairs of brethren, both of
the same calling, fishers, to a higher calling
of the same name, fishers still, but, of men :
that is the excellency and dignity of it. Not
now to follow out the resemblance, there is
much art in this Divine fishing of human
souls, both in casting the met in public preach-
ing, and angling in private converse.
Wer. 19. And they straightway left their
nets and followed him.] This was Elijah's
touch to Elisha, What have I done to thee 3
Did our hearts once hear his voice, net would
not entangle us; nor cables bind us; no
friends, nor parents, nor business, would hold
us: we should break from all, yea, if it might
be otherwise, would run from all to follow
him.
Wer. 23. And Jesus went about all Galilee.]
Here observe his Divine power and goodness
shining forth in the miraculous cure of all dis-
eases. But these bodily cures were but pre-
ludes of the main work; but signs hung out
to show where the physician of souls dwelt.
And whatsoever be thy spiritual maladies,
though never so many and so desperate, yet
come. Never any came to him and went
away uncured.
CHAPTER W.
VER. 1. And seeing the multitude, he went up into a
mountain. And when he was set, his disciples came
unto him.
VER. 2. And he opened his mouth, and taught them,
saying, Blessed are the poor, &c.
OTHERs may grow stale, but this sermon,
never so often read over, is always new. Oh,
how full of Divine doctrine ! How plain, and
yet how high and excellent, delighting the
soul as a bright day, clear light all along
We need not strain for the clearness of it up-
on that word, He opened his mouth ; for every
word here spoken speaks for itself; carries,
as light does, its own evidence. He begins
with that great point which all are concerned
in, and all naturally someway desirous to
know, the doctrine of blessedness, in short
aphorisms; and the rest of his discourse fol-
lows out the same argument, directing the
way to happiness in those graces, purity,
meekness, mercy, &c. For although all grace
is radically one, and he that hath one hath
all, yet they are thus specified : 1st. For the
weakness of our apprehensions, which take
not full views so easily, they are spelled out
to us, but only so, that taking them the easier
severally, as letters of one word, we may set
them together again, as all being one blessed-
ness. 2dly. Though every true Christian hath
all graces, yet all are not alike eminent in all.
We may confidently say, that there is no one
who equally excels in every grace; but in
several persons, several particular graces do
most act and evidence themselves, shooting
up above the rest; yea, in one and the same
person, one grace will, at some times, be
more evident and sensible than at others.
3dly. They are thus parcelled out to us, that
we may apply ourselves the more particularly
sometimes to the study of one, sometimes to
the study of another, the neglect whereof is
a great cause of our great deficiency in them
all. We hear them and like them, may be,
and think these are good, but we do not
set to the attainment of them : we applaud,
and leave them there; approve all, and neg-
lect all. If at any time we have any desires
after them, they are general and confused :
We grasp at all, and catch nothing.
This I would recommend, to be more par-
ticular in our purposes; sometimes to set our-
selves to some one grace, not secluding nor
turning away the rest, for that can not be, but
yet, more particularly plying that one, were it
humility, poverty of spirit, meekness, or any
other; and for some time to make that one
Our main task, were it for some weeks or
months together, and examine every day's
practice in that particularly. But like unset-
tled students among many books, we rove and
reel, and make offers at every grace, and still
lag behind, and make no considerable pur-
chase nor progression in any.
Now, for blessedness, what is the common
Voice, at least, of men's minds and practices,
though they speak it not out? Blessed are
the rich, the honorable, the well-landed, or
well-befriended, and they that can grow great
enough in the world. But if we believe this
Teacher, it is not these ; no such matter. But
if blessedness be in things spiritual and in-
ward, then men would imagine readily of
those things which sound highest, that have
some grandeur, and somewhat heroic in them
—in great knowledge of faculty, and zeal for
high services, or in raptures, and ecstasies,
and singular Divine experiences. But here
VER. 13–17.]
425
OF ST. MATTHEW'S GOSPEL.
there is nothing of these neither, but the
meanest, most despised things; yea, those
that (some of them) seem to sound as miser-
able and sad: The poor in spirit—they that
mourn—the meek, &c. Oh sweet, lowly
graces, poverty of spirit, meekness, that grow
low, and are of dark hue, as the violet's, but
of a fragrant smell; as one says, chief in gar-
lands: these are prime in the garlands of a
Christian. Oh! study these ; seek to have
them growing within you. Suffering remark-
able martyrdom may seem to have some lus-
tre in it; but how take you it, to be reviled
and scoffed at, and hated, and taunted, by
Christians in name, because thou desirest to
be one indeed 2
Each of these beatitudes, for all the low
sound at first, ends high, and makes good the
title. Blessed are the poor in spirit, ay, they
are the only rich, heirs to a kingdom, and
such a kingdom: theirs is the kingdom of God.
Lofty, vain minds are truly base. By poverty
in spirit, is meant, I conceive, not only sense
of spiritual want (though commonly it is so
taken), but, more comprehensively, a lowly
frame of heart, not swelled either with de-
sires, or delight, or conceit, of any worldly
advantage, or self-excellency, either outward
or inward. Thus may a man be, amid very
many such advantages and riches, poor, and
that is his blessing. Yet here is connoted, I
perceive, the condition of outward poverty as
more suiting, and usually more connected with
that temper of spirit. In Luke it is, Blessed
are the poor, opposed to the rich. And he
that is poor in spirit, if outwardly poor, is
truly rich in the midst of poverty. So, they
that mourn shall be comforted, and the meek
shall inherit the earth. Not that this is their
all, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven, also.
But this word from the Psalm carries a fit
promise, that meekness, seeming to be that
which makes a man a prey to every one, and
easily wronged and thrust out by all, yet shall
be provided and protected, and he shall enjoy
so much even of this earth as is fit for him,
with more quiet and sweetness than the proud
and boisterous, who are ever, almost, in con-
tentions.
The pure in heart, abridging themselves of
sights and enjoyments that the world seeks
after—sensual delights, the lust of the flesh,
the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—
shall have a better sight, and purer joy,
suiting them ; sweetest communion with
God here, and, ere long, full vision ; for
they shall see God. So in the rest it is
clear.
Blessed are they which are persecuted—
Rejoice.] Look off from your sufferings, and
each way you will find matter of encourage-
ment and joy. Look back to the prophets that
were before you, and look forward to the re-
ward in heaven that is before you. The firm
belief of that kingdom, that glory above, that
vision, what will it not make easy to forego or
undergo, to do or suffer ? It is the want of that
belief that keeps the low things of this earth
so high in our esteem.
Wer. 13, 14. Ye are the salt of the earth—
Aye are the light of the world.]. This next
point particularly concerns the disciples, and
after them, the ministers of Christ. In these
resemblances lie their dignity and their duty ;
and the former is used for urging the latter ;
and that is the best view of it. Let men look
as much as they can upon the excellency of
this their high calling, so that it raise their
spirits to high endeavors of acting suitably to
it. What a simple thing, to feed self-conceit
by this! Alas, poor man! He is light indeed
in another sense, who grows vain upon it
that he is called light, and does not rather
tremble that he is so unlike it in this. Salt
-—what were all table provisions without
this ? Light—what were the world without
this ? Christ communicates his own name to
them. . The light of the world. All the chil-
dren of God are children of light, but his mes-
sengers more eminently so. Men that think
ministers a needless commodity in the world,
if they give any belief to the gospel, may see
what they are: and if you could live well
without salt, and without light, so might ye
without ministers.
But, alas! how much unsavory salt, how
many dark lights are among us ! And if the
Salt lose its savor, it can do good to nothing,
and nothing can do good to it. The most un-
profitable piece of the world, is either a pro-
fane, a carnal, or a formal, dead minister; he
is good for nothing—unsavory salt, of all
things the most unsavory. And if the light
within thee be darkness (as our Savior says af.
terward), how great is that darkness " Oh,
that Christ shined more in our labors, in our
conversation, and in companies where we
come ; that we were more Savory and sea-
soning others; not in jestings, or in sports
(these salts are unsavory in ministers), but in
words of edification, ministering grace to the
hearers / And this, though it specially ap-
plies to ministers, yet extends to all Chris-
tians. Let your light so shine, not to make
yourselves somebody, but for the glory of the
Father of lights, whence you have the light,
your heavenly Father. Oh, that this were
predominant in all ! Happy that heart that
is filled with constant desires of this, and that
aims at the glory of God, minding self in noth-
ing, but God in all !
Wer. 17. Think not that I am come to de-
stroy the law or the prophets.] . He lays hold
of this, takes occasion, upon clearing a mis-
take that had arisen respecting him, to pass
on to such doctrines as he knew were neces-
sary for the clearing of the law of God,
wronged by false glosses; and he thus vindi-
cates both himself and that law whereof he
was the lord and author. Some, possibly, to
obstruct his way and prejudice him in men's
opinions, spake of him as a teacher of new
doctrine, and an enemy of the law : others, it
may be, hearing of a doctrine that sounded
54
426
[CHAP. VI.
LECTURES ON THE FIRST NINE CHAPTERS
new, would willingly have had it so, would
have been free, and enjoy libertinism. Now,
to dispel both misapprehensions, our Savior
owns his purpose to be nothing such. On the
contrary, I come not to destroy, but to fulfil.
This did he in all things, in doctrine and in
practice; and he declares it a thing impossi-
ble for any to annul the law; that if any
should offer at it, in his actions or doctrine,
he should undo himself, but not the least tit-
tle of the law. Yet, further, these men that
cry up the law, and would charge me with
the dissolving of it, for all their noise, I de-
clare to you, that except you take heed, and
observe that law better than they do, ye can not
enter into heaven. How many deceive them-
selves, as these self-pleasing, vain men did
But be warned. Eaccept your righteousness,
your religion, go beyond the civil neighbor, the
good church-keeper, the formal, painted pro-
fessor, ye shall fall short of that which both
you and they reckon upon. . How many, who
think themselves fair for heaven, shall find
themselves wofully mistaken when it is past
help ! Oh examine well in due time, and
see whether you are indeed for heaven or not.
It is the saddest mistake ever man fell into,
to dream on of heaven, till he find himself in
hell.
Wer. 21. Ye have heard, &c.] Now he
clears the law, and teaches the true spiritu-
al sense of it, in divers points of it, wherein
it was grossly abused ; shows that it binds
not only the hand and the tongue, but even
the heart. Men aiming at self-righteousness
by the law, and desirous of that as cheap as
might be, with the least pains, not being
willing or able to rise to its perfection, drew
it down and shaped it to their imperfection :
cut it to the measure of external obedience,
and that of the easiest size. Thus men readi-
ly do; they rather fancy the word and rules
of Christianity to their humors, than purge and
correct those humors by the word. This expo-
sition of the sixth commandment, condemns
not only gross murder, but rash anger and
reviling speech, as a breach of it, and con-
demnable: which is expressed in allusion to
the civil judicatures among the Jews, and
thence, in case of any such thing, he presses
speedy and undelayed reconcilement, as a
thing most acceptable to God, and without
which no other homages or religious perform-
ances would be acceptable to him. Now it
is not only anger without cause that is con-
demned, but vain, undue anger, exceeding
cause and measure. Were there the con-
sciousness and constant regard of this ; were
every reproachful or disdainful word, every
harsh look, every rising angry thought against
thy brother looked on as murder, oh, in what
order would it put thy tongue, eye, and heart,
in this respect ' This we hear, and think it
should be thus, but we have not resolved that
it must be thus, do not watch and pray that
it may be so, after an unchaste look and
touch of impure desire, though not breaking
out to act, yea, though not ripening within
to full consent.
And by occasion of this, a man being ready
to think, Oh, how strait, how hard is this:
he adds, in verse 29, a useful advice, and a
powerful encouragement with it. If thine
eye offend thee—anything that proves a snare,
how dear soever, as a right eye, or right
hand. Men are loath to pare off or abridge
occasions of sin, where some strong interest
binds them. But thus to go whole and sound
to hell !—Oh ! better limp to heaven.
Wer. 31. Then follows of divorce, which,
upon any any difference, was worn into com-
mon use, and opinion of lawfulness. After-
ward, he †. of usual vain swearing,
a sin which men have always affected, even
they who, by profession, are God's own peo-
ple: at which a man might wonder, did not
we find it so lamentably true. But yet,
Swear not at all, not after the liberty you
take by swearing either by heaven or earth,
thinking thus you spare God’s name; but
swearing by them must have relation to God,
and so his name is interested. But oh a
little reverence for the great God would
would make thee tremble at it. Nothing is
stronger evidence of a graceless heart, than
oaths and profane swearing.
Lastly, at ver. 43, we have that sweet doc-
trine of not revenging, but patiently bearing,
and readily forgiving of injuries, and loving
enemies, and doing good to all. This does
not bar any calm way of self-righting, to
which there is sometimes an obligation ; but
men overstretch it, and passion and self-love
domineer, under this pretext. Therefore,
the words sound a little extreme, as a coun-
ter-bowing of our crooked hearts, but it is to
bring them straight. Let Julian and other
atheists laugh at it, but it is the glory of
Christians. No doctrine or religion in the
world presses so much clemency and inno-
cency, and bounty as theirs, even to sworn
enemies. This, we say, is its glory. And
whereas it seems to render men sheepish, to
make them less than men, it makes them in-
deed more than men, even like God. Benig-
nity and mercy are divine and Godlike, chief
traits of God's image in his children. His
sun rises, and his rain descends on the just
and the unjust. So, a diffusive, sweet, boun-
tiful soul, is still desiring to do good, by hand,
by counsel, by any comfort within its reach
toward all, rewarding good for evil. These
things, deeply thought on and really practis-
ed, would make Christians indeed, children
like their Heavenly Father.
e-ºmº-mº-mº
CHAPTER WI.
CHRIST's business upon earth was to bring
man to heaven. He came down and became
man for that purpose ; came forth from God,
to bring us back to God. 1 Pet. iii. 18. As
WER. 1.]
427
OF ST. MATTHEW’S GOSPEL.
his life and death, so his divine doctrine tends
to that, to enlighten the minds of men with
the right knowledge, and inflame their hearts
with the real love, of God. We are drown-
ed in sense and the love of earthly things;
and in spiritual things, our hearts are sensu-
al and earthly. Now you perceive the doc-
trine of this chapter, clearly aiming at the
raising of men's hearts to heaven. That is
the end of the gospel and all preaching, that
men may learn, in all their actions, to eye
God more and man less; to be less earnest
and careful for earth, and more for heaven.
This is the scope of the chapter.
These two main evils in the heart of man,
hypocrisy and earthliness, spring from igno-
rance and forgetfulness of God. Deep persua-
sions of God and heavenly things, would set
men and earthly things very low in our hearts.
Would it be possible for men to love the
praise of men more than the praise of God,
if they considered what he is, and what man
is ; how high and how lasting a good is his
liking and approbation, how poor and vanish-
ing a thing is man’s good opinion ? Oh, athe-
Ism, atheism hence springs the love of pres-
ent things. Both these go under that name,
present esteem, and present possessions. The
one, the love of air (as I may say), the other,
the love of earth; and both spring from want
of belief and love of heaven, so high above
both. This is the great work, to cali off the
eye from this low prospect, to raise it up
higher, to look not on things seen, but on
things not seen. And Oh, the odds ! Things
that are seen, are temporal : things that are
not seen, are eternal. 2 Cor. iv. 18. At this
our Savior aims his discourse, to persuade
men to singleness of heart in their perform-
ance of religious duties, and moderation of
mind in their provision for earthly necessi-
tleS.
Having spoken of doing good in the former
chapter, he speaks now of the manner and in-
tention which is chiefly to be heeded, to ex-
ceed the Pharisees, who did many outward
actions, particularly of these here specified,
but spoiled all by the wretched desire of vain
glory; a subtle evil preying most on best
things, alms, prayer, &c.——a moth that breeds
in and corrupts the finest garments.
The duties he particularly names, as these
three, alms, prayer, fasting. Alms I scruple
not to call a religious duty, though of the
Second Table, upon the apostle St. James's
warrant, Jam. i. 27. And the way of it
which our Savior here teaches, will make it
religious indeed: to regard God in it, not to
seek to appear to man, yea, to seek not to ap-
pear to man; to hide and cover it all that
thou canst from men. We are commanded,
indeed, in the former chapter, to let our light
shine before men: this here is not contrary,
yea, that is the same with this: this barring
vain self-glory, that directing to God’s glory.
Let your light shine, but so shine (like the
Sun that gives light and scarcely suffers you
to look upon itself) that they may see your
works, yourselves, as little as may be, and,
may glorify, not you, but your heavenly fa-
ther. Good actions can not well be hid, and
possibly, some even of this sort, giving of
alms. Yea, sometimes it may be necessary
for example and exciting others, that the
should know of it. But take heed that vanity
Creep not in under this. And further than
either unavoidable necessity, or some evident
further good of thy neighbor carries it, desire
to be unknown and unseen in this. When it
must be public, let thy intention be secret.
Take no delight in having the eyes of men
on thee : yea, rather count it a pain, and still
eye God alone, for he eyes thee. And re-
member it, even in public acts of charity, and
other such like, He sees in secret. Though
the action be no secret, the spring, the source
of it is, and he sees by what weights the
wheels go, and he still looks upon that;
Views thy heart, the hidden bent and inten-
tion of it, which man can not see. So then,
though in some cases thou must be seen to
do, yet in no case do to be seen: that differs
much, and where that is, even the other will
be as little as may be. Thou wilt desire
rather, and, where it can be, still choose to
do unseen, that others should know as little
of thy charity as may be, besides the party
that receives it; yea, if it might be, that even
the party might not know, as he that stole
in money under his sick friend's pillow ; yea,
to let thy very self know as little as possible,
as our Savior here expresses it, Let not thy
left hand know what thy right hand doeth.
An excellent word | Reflect not on it as thy
action, with self-pleasing; that is the left
hand in view ; but look on God’s goodness to
thee, that thou art not in the receiver's room,
and he in thine ; that he makes thee able to
relieve another, which many are not, and be-
ing able, makes thee willing, which far few-
er are. For both, thou art to bless him, and
be the humbler, the more thou dost. Take
thy very giving to thy distressed brother, as
a gift from God, a further obligation on thee.
Though he is pleased to become thy debtor
for a further reward, yet, truly, the thing it-
self is his gift, and a great one, as David ac-
knowledges excellently in their offering to
the Temple. 1 Chron. xxix. 14: But who am
I, and what is my people, that we should be
able to offer so willingly, after this sort 2
For all things come of thee, and of thine own
have we given thee. Not only the power, but
the will is from God, both of thine own which
we give thee.
Oh, how far are the most from this direct
looking to God, this heart-enlarging love of
God! And therefore are they so close-hand-
ed to the necessities of the poor, even of the
Saints, where some enforcing occasion, some
eye of men, some wretched side respect or
other draws it not forth. A thousand objec-
tions are raised : either they need it not, or
will not accept of it, or have this fault or that,
428
[CHAP. VI.
LECTURES ON THE FIRST NINE CHAPTERS
are proud or idle, &c. But does not thy God
see what is at the bottom of all this logic,
these disputes before they come off with any-
thing 2 And when thou dost give, how much
of self, and how little of God is there in it !
The left hand knows, yea, it is done with the
left hand, though the bodily right hand do it.
Most men's charity is altogether left-handed:
sinister respects and intentions are the main
movers in it.
But how noble and happy a thing is a truly
liberal heart | Even natural liberty hath
much beauty in it, but much more that which
is spiritual and Christian. According to thy
power, abounding in good works, that is
riches, rich in good works ; and he that sow-
eth plentifully, shall reap plentifully. And
be eſºſ in it, and do this for God, out of
love to him. And for the fruit, how rich is
that So much as it is fit to look to reward,
look to God's only. Take him as thy debtor
upon his word, rather than present payment
from men. Theirs is present indeed, and our
carnal hearts are all for the present, but con-
sider, as it is present, so it passes presently,
and is straightway spent. God’s reward,
though to come, is yet certain, and when
come, is abiding, everlasting. Thus, in re-
spect of all good actions, and a holy, self-de-
nying course of life, in nothing take pay of
men. How vain, what smoke is it, their
breath, and how soon will it be spent And
then, when thou shouldst come to look for a
reward from God, to know it is done, that
you are paid already | That well judged,
is one of the saddest words in all the scrip-
ture, the hypocrite's doom. He hath no
more to look for ; he would be seen, and was
seen; he would be praised of men, and
praised he was ; he is paid, and can expect
no further, but that reward which he would
gladly miss, the hypocrite's portion, eternal
fire.
As to prayer, how foolish and how wretch-
ed a thing is it, to speak to God, and look to
men ' What is there wherein the heart will
be single and abstracted from men, and com-
mune with God alone, if not in prayer ?
Another evil, much like to that of show, is
here corrected, an affected, empty, babbling
length in prayer, without affection. The
want of that makes a short prayer long and
babbling ; while much of that, makes a long
prayer short: as in a speech, the quality is
the measure of the quantity, a long speech
may be very short. This affected length we
incline to very much in holy exercises; many
beads are dropped, and paternosters said, &c.
We lay too much stress on the continuance
and length ; think all’s well, if enough be
done; whereas God’s thoughts are far other,
and ours should conform to his. It is enough
if well done. If the heart is close to him in
ever so short a prayer, there is much said in
a little. We usually speak many words, and
say little. For help in this, the most excel-
lent model given by our Savior, is here in-
serted ; the beautiful order and full compre-
hensive matter of which, can never be enough
admired.
Then as to fasting, which is a necessary
help of prayer: it does unclog and free the
wings of the soul to mount to heaven; and
in some respects, it is a help to alms too.
The same rule must here be observed, to ap-
pear as little as may be ; for the affected dis-
covery spoils and loses all, yea, the needless
discovery runs too much hazard, therefore it
is by all means to be avoided. Personal fast-
ing should be conducted secretly. Practise
constant temperance. Better to let the bri-
dle be always short held on thy appetite,
than sometimes to pull it in extremely, and
then lay the reins loose again; that is the
way to stumble and fall in both.
Wer 19. Lay not up for yourselves treas-
wres upon earth.] In these words our Savior
enforces the other point of moderation. The
heart in heaven, and fixed on the true treas-
ure there, is the only way to regulate and
moderate the desires in all things on earth.
For it is the distempered love of earthly
things that causes all the distracting care
about them; and the cause of that distem-
pered love to earth, is ignorance of heaven,
and disaffection to it. Men may discourse of
many considerations, and sometimes think
sołerly, how foolishly man turmoils, and is
disquieted in vain, heaping up, and not know-
ing who shall possess, and knowing certainly
that not he very long, that he is shortly to
leave all. But these things will not prevail;
men keep their hold. Not only their hands,
but their hearts, are still fastened to what
they have, and what they would have still
more of, rather than of those excellent things
which would call them off from earthly en-
joyments, to fix them on heaven and immor-
tality, if these were really believed.
Where moth and rust doth corrupt, and
where thieves break through and steal.] In-
ward decay, and outward hazards ! The
treasure above is free from both. Oh, that
ours were there ! But hearts that are so lit-
tle there, make it very questionable. Oh, for
an eye single and pure, enlightened to behold
that blessed hope, and to fix upon it ! Can an
heir of heaven be much troubled upon earth 2
Impossible. If at any time his heart bends
that way, will he not straightly check him-
self, and think, What am I doing? Is this
my business 2 The Gentiles seek for them,
and look for no more : they must make the
best of them; but would I be content with
this for my portion ? Where lies my treas-
ure ? Who is my master ?
Wer. 24–34. No man can serve two masters.
Therefore I say unto you, take, no thought
for your life.] Our Savior here argues
against the service of the world; first, as un-
worthy a servant of Christ; secondly, as im-
possible for him ; thirdly, as needless, and
that at large. Your heavenly Father knows
your need, and cares for you. Ye need not
WER. 1–5.]
429
OF ST. MIATTHEW'S GOSPEL.
both care, his care is sufficient. Further, it
is fruitless; such your perplexing care is, for
due diligence in one's calling is not barred;
yea, that is to be used, that we may care
the less. . Then it avails nothing. Wer. 27.
Which of you by taking thought can add one
cubit unto his stature ?' Lay these things to-
gether. Your Father will care and provide.
He that clothes the lilies, and feeds the birds,
will he allow his children to starve and go
naked ? Then think how preposterous and
absurd to distrust him in these petty things,
When you trust him in so much greater.
Ver. 33. But seek ye first the kingdom of
God. A kingdom | Oh, seek that, and ac-
count, as he does, all things else but accessa-
ries, a parcel by-the-by, to be cast in. But
alas ! little see we of that great inheritance,
that kingdom, and therefore these little poor
things seem so great with us.
CHAPTER VII.
WE have here continued the dropping of
the divine doctrine of Christ, distilling as the
dew in several brief rules, as pure pearly
drops of heavenly wisdom, in divers particu-
lars of main use and concernment.
First, there is a direction concerning the
judging of men, ver, 1–6. Then, another,
regarding the supplicating of God, ver. 7–11.
After that, the straight rule of equity given
us, ver. 12. And then, the straight way of
happiness recommended, ver. 13, 14. Lastly,
a double word of caution to undeceive us,
both in the discerning of others' teaching,
and our own learning, ver, 15–27: we are to
beware that we be not deluded by false
teachers, and that we delude not ourselves,
being false learners under the teaching of
truth. These are most weighty points; but
light vain hearts are little taken with them.
Ver, 1–5. Judge not, that ye be not judged.]
This is a most common evil in man’s per-
Verse nature. Even moral men have taken
notice of it; yea, almost every man perceives
and hates it in another, and yet hugs it in
himself. This is the evil—unequal judging ;
sharpsightedness in the evils of others, and
blindness in our own. And this very evil it-
self, of unequal judging, we can perceive in
another, and overlook in our own bosom.
What discourse fills most societies, and con-
Sumes their time, but descant on the condi-
tions and actions of others!
Lawful judgments in states, for the censur-
ing and punishment of crimes, are not barred;
nor, in private persons, a prudent discerning
of what is evil and sinful in others, and judg-
ing accordingly of it. But this judging is,
the usually taking the chair to censure all
persons and affairs about us; the prying into
the actions, yea, even the intentions of men,
either through a false glass, seeing faults
where there are none, or through a magnify-
ing and multiplying glass, making them ap-
pear many more than indeed they are. This
is done, first, by a curious searching into the
actions of others; secondly, by the censuring
of good and indifferent actions as evil; third.
ly, by hasty, rash censuring of doubtful ac-
tions, though a little suspicious; fourthly, by
a true censuring of evil actions, yet not with
a good intention—not to amend but to defame
thy brother; and, fifthly, by a desperate sen-
tencing of the final estate even of the worst.
This is here declared to be dangerous and
preposterous, 1st. Dangerous, by drawing
an answerably severe censure and judgment
upon ourselves, usually even from men, but,
however, certainly from God. Thou that
playest the arch critic on all around thee, art
thou without fault 2 Hast thou flattered thy-
self into such a fancy, as to think that thou
art above all exception ? Is there nothing,
either a true or a seeming blemish, for any to
point at in thee ? Surely there is something,
Some part lying open, that men may hit at
thee; and they will surely not miss to do it,
if thou provokest them. However, remem-
ber, if thou shouldest escape all tongues, and
pass free this way, yet, One unavoidable
searching hand thou must come under; His
judgment who sees thee to the bottom, and
can charge thee with the secret sins of thy
bosom. He can and will so pay thee home,
all thy unjust judgments of thy brethren,
with just judging of thy ways and thoughts,
that thou thyself shalt confess no wrong is
done to thee. For with what judgment ye
judge, ye shall be judged.
Then, 2dly. It is absurd and preposterous.
First cast the beam out of thine own eye. If
thou wouldst, to any good purpose, take
knowledge of thy brother's failings, begin at
home ; so clear thine eye as to discern aright.
A heart well purified speaks the most suita-
ble and pertinent reproofs, and they prove the
most piercing and powerful.
Shall these things prevail, my brethren 2
Were it love to God, a fire of holy zeal, it
would seize first on things nearest it ; but it
is a flying, infernal wildfire, running abroad
and scattering itself. Is not this the grand
entertainment 3 Such-a-one is a foolish per-
son; another, proud; a third, covetous. And
of persons professing religion, yet will ye
say, They are as contentious, and bitter, and
avaricious as others: or, at best, if you have
nothing to say against them particularly, yet,
All is dissimulation; they are but hypocrites.
And while a mind is of this vein, believe me,
the most blameless track of life, and in it the
the very best action, how easy is it to invent
a sinister sense of it, and blur it!
But oh my brethren, be not so foolish.
Blunt the fiery edge off your censures on
yourselves, where it is so safe and advanta-
geous to be thorough and home. Just the
opposite to this, judging others incurs sharp
judgment; but judging thyself is the way
not to be judged. 1 Cor. xi. 31. For if we
430
[CHAP. VII.
LECTURES ON THE FIRST NINE CHAPTERS
100%ld judge ourselves, we should not be
judged. This is the happy and gainful se-
Verity. Learn, then, to look upon others, and
all their ways, with the highest charity,
which thinketh no evil, is witty and inventive
of good constructions upon anything that
may clear them, as malice is of miscensures
of the best things. Take all candidly and
mildly by the easiest side, the right handle.
And for thyself, search thy heart; sift, try
thy best actions, find out thy own earthli-
ness, thy pride and vanity, thy selfishness
and hypocrisy, even in good. A self-search-
ing Christian is made up of humility and
meekness. If thou wouldst find much peace
and favor with God and man, be very low in
thine own eyes. Forgive thyself little, and
others much.
Ver; 6...give not that which is holy unto the
º The former rule abates the sharp
eye of rash judging; this quickens and clears
the eye of right discerning: that was for the
moderate censuring of evil; this is for the
prudent imparting of good. Be ready to com-
municate spiritual good to all, yet so as, if
IſleIl do evidence themselves to be as dogs
and swine, to have that high esteem of holy
things, as not to prostitute them to their con-
tempt and rage, and wrong both those excel-
lent things and yourselves: lest they trample
them; as puddled swine, not knowing their
Worth, and turn again and rend you, as en-
raged dogs.
Hºythings—pearls. So are they esteemed
by all that know them; the sweet and pre-
Sious promises of the word, the excellent
high calling of a Christian; and their price
is inestimable. The pearl ºf great price is,
Jesus Christ, revealed in the gospel. Oh,
learn and seek after high esteeming thoughts
of him and of Divine things. Learn to be
rich in those, and to covet them indeed. And
though imparting them to others, it impairs
them not to yourselves, and therefore you are
to be ready and free that Way ; yet, because
of . Some manifest despisers of them, learn
this wisdom in that matter, Give not holy
*::::: to dogs.
There is an imprudent zeal, and sometimes
a mixture of an irreverent commonness, in
speaking of holy things indifferently in all
£9mpanies. Certainly, such company wil-
lingly ought to be chosen, as give most liberal
and kind entertainment to such discourse.
But, when not of choice, but by some una-
Voidable engagement, we fall among others,
then our rule ought to be, not to partake of
their ungodly ways and communication; but
fºr the communicating, in another way, holy
things to them, this must be well advised on,
whether it be suitable to this rule, we are
not, indeed, to give persons easily up for des.
perate, as dogs or swine; this were to fall
into the former fault of rash judging; but
where they are evidently such, the respect
for holy things is to be preserved, and not un-
wisely to be exposed to their derision.
Much need is there of a spirit of wisdom
in this, without which there is no instructing
by rules, so as to guide us aright in all par-
ticular occurrences and societies; therefore
we are to beg that anointing that teaches us
all things. 1. John ii. 27. Speak willingly to
God, but still with holy fear in thyself, and it
may be entertained with holy fear to others.
Wer. 7. Ask, and it shall be given you -
seek, and ye shall find : knock, and it shall be
opened unto you..] This is for advantage to
all. For wisdom to follow the foregoing and
following rules, the great purveyor of a Chris-
tian, is prayer, and the great qualifications of
prayer, are perseverance and fervency. Ask
—seek—knock ; be earnest and importunate ;
give not over. And the great support, the
very life of prayer, that which quickens and
continues it, and keeps it from giving over, is
faith, a firm persuasion of audience and at-
tainment. This is here ascertained by our
Savior ; proved by irrefragable argument.
All good is promised to be given, and that
which is the top of all, the chief to be sought,
the Holy Spirit, is promised to them that ask
it, as St. Luke hath it. We say our prayers,
and there is an end. And this perfunctorious
formality creeps even upon Christians who
are unwary and slothful, and hence so little
is obtained. Many that pray, know little of
this Divine art of prayer, this wrestling with
God, this resolving not to let him go until he
bless them, as Jacob did.
Wer. 12. Therefore, all things whatsoever
ge would that men should do to you, do ye even
so to them.]. This is added, and seems con-
nected, but it is another rule apart, and this
great rule which all know and few observe—
in equity, in charity, meekness, and all due
respect. Self, self undoes all, and sets the
world on fire. Though it be a separate pre-
cept, yet it may have some aspect to the for-
mer respecting prayer, as, if you would have
God condescending, and favorable, and boun-
tiful to you, be so to men; and so you shall
be, if you change places and suppose yourself
in their room, and they in yours. This is the
law and the prophets: that is, all is of this
nature. Duty to others, as pressed in the law
and the prophets, is reducible to this.
Wer. 13. Enter ye in at the strait gºl
This is undeniably a main point; yet, alas!
we seem not to think so. How disinclined
are we to the way of eternal happiness | The
difficulty is so represented as to add an edge
to our earnestness, not to abate and weaken
our endeavors. This way is strait indeed, but
there is still room enough within. John xiv.
2. In my Father's house are many mansions.
The ease and delight there, shall abundantly
compensate all the trouble in the way. We
must resolve then, if we would not perish,
that we must take this way, how strait and
rugged soever, and strip and put off all that
entangles and encumbers—that swelling pride,
those superfluous desires and lusts; yea, to
put off and leave behind even self itself. Once
WER. 15–28.]
431
OF ST. MATTHEW’S GOSPEL.
in at that gate, we shall find all perfectly
compensated. And remember, they are few
that enter; few there are that so much as
seek it, but far fewer that find it, even of those
that make some kind of seeking after it.
Many shall seek to enter (so it is in the other
evangelist), and shall not be able ; therefore,
strive ye. What bustle is there made by sea
and land for scraps of this earth, and heaven
alone is so cheap in our eyes, as if it were
worth no diligence, scarce even a serious
thought! Surely, either heaven is but a fancy,
or the world is mad 2
Wer. 15. Beware of false prophets.] Not to
go wrong in our way, we must take heed not
to mistake our guides (especially as so many
in all ages give themselves out for such), that
they mislead us not, wrapping error in truth's
mantle : yet, there is ever something to a dis-
cerning eye, that will readily discover them.
As for the grand deceiver, the Devil, the vulgar
fable, that in all apparitions whatsoever there
is still the shape of a cloven foot, holds true,
for there is something in their carriage that,
narrowly eyed, will tell what they are. Ye
shall know them by their fruits.
Wer. 21. Not every one that saith unto me,
Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of
heaven.] But every man is his own worst
deceiver; therefore he ought most to beware
of himself. Whether teacher or learner, he
is his own false prophet, speaking peace where
there is no peace. Therefore, beware of
yourselves. Delude not yourselves with a
vain trust in an empty profession. Not every
one that says, Lord, Lord—that makes much
noise and sound of the name of Christ, yea,
that bears his name to others, that preaches
him. Oh how many shall find themselves
to have misreckoned in that day, when they
are not owned by him, but commanded away
by that sad word depart I Look to it, there-
fore, to the truth of denying yourselves, and
your own will, and yielding yourselves up to
God: but he that doeth the will of my Father
which is in heaven, says our Savior. Oh
take heed of ſounding your house in the sand.
Though ever so stately and fair built, and
showing fine, yet that foundation will be its
ruin. There is no safe building but on the
rock, that rock of salvation who here taught
this doctrine. Then come storms as they will,
there can be no fear. He that buildeth on him
shall not be ashamed. 1 Peter ii. 6. No mat-
ter what houses or lands ye have here, whe-
ther any or none—he himself had none here—
provided you build on him as the foundation
of eternal blessedness. Oh, that men would
think of this, and amidst all their ensuring of
things still unsure, would mind the making
of this sure, which may be made so sure for
ever, as not to be moved
Wer. 28. And it came to pass, when Jesus
had ended these sayings, the people were as-
tonished at his doctrine.] A divine way of
teaching ! Even some not converted, are yet
struck and astonished with it, but by this
eminently, He taught them as one having
authority. This not only by a powerful se-
cret influence, on hearts which he touched by
his Divine power, but even in the way of his
own teaching. And for some measure of this
his ministers ought to seek, and to seek it
from him, if they would find it. There is a
force in things spoken from the heart with
holy and spiritual affection : even common
things thus spoken, are far above the greatest
strains and notions, that are only an harangue
or speech framed by strength of gifts and study.
Oh! much prayer would put life and authority
into what we speak. To be much on the
mount with God, would make our faces shine
when coming with his message to men.
CHAPTER VIII.
HE dwell among ws, says St. John, and we
saw his glory, as the glory of the only-begotten
Son of God, full of grace and truth. This
all his history testifies of him, both his mar-
wellous doctrine foregoing, and his miraculous
works that here follow.
Ver. 1. When he was come down from the
mountain, great multitudes followed him.] . A
thing he mowise regarded, yet would not hin-
der; yea, he continued teaching and working
those things that drew them. His delight
was not in their flocking aſter him, but in in-
structing and doing them good.
Ver. 2. And, behold, there came a leper and
worshipped him.] Whether this was intended
as the highest kind of civil reverence, as to a
prophet, or Divine worship, as to God, it is
not easy to aver, because it is hard to deter-
mine what kind of persuasion he, and the
centurion, and others now coming to him, had ;
how little, or how much, or if any apprehen-
sion of him as the Messiah and Son of God.
This being as yet not much noised abroad,
yet they might have it by special revelation
from God. A high confidence, however, there
was of a Divine power being with him for
the greatest works. This is clearly express-
ed; and in whatsoever notion it was, our
Savior takes it very graciously, and grants
their suits. We are commonly unsatisfied
with all that comes not up to our own height;
but our meek Redeemer cherisheth sincerity,
and accepts of what he finds, even the very
least, and extols it to the highest pitch it was
capable of.
Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean.]
Strong confidence and humility are contem-
pered in this word: confidence in asserting
full power in Christ for the work (the doubt
of his will cannot be challenged as injurious
or unbelieving, for he had as yet no warrant
absolutely to believe that he would); the
humility in the way of propounding it, not
daring peremptorily to sue for it, but moving
it thus, as a thing in his hand to do; the sense
of his vile disease and other unworthiness, it
432
[CHAP. VIII.
LECTURES ON THE FIRST NINE CHAPTERS
is likely, depressing him, and forming his
desire in this style only, as representing and
reserving the matter with humble submission,
as resolved not to quarrel nor complain if he
should refuse, but to acknowledge pure com-
passion and goodness, if obtained : g. d. Lord,
it becomes not such a horrid, polluted wretch
to say any further than this, I believe, and
crave leave to say it out, if thou wilt, thou
canst make me clean.
Wer. 3. And Jesus put forth his hand, and
touched him.] And this humble motion is as
graciously taken: he hath straightway, real
experience both of the power that he believed
in, and of the good-will that he durst not think
himself so sure of, yet had (no doubt) some
good hope of Thou sayest, I can 3. I say, I
will ; be thou clean. And the touch of his
hand is a concurrent sign of his goodness and
condescension. That word had power enough
alone, without the touch; yet it goes not alone,
lest it should look like a disdain of touching.
He is pleased, therefore, to put his pure hand
to the defiled skin of this leper, being in no
hazard to receive pollution by that touch by
which the leper received a cleansing. And
thus in his word he speaks to sinners, where
he hath revealed his will together with his
power; and that we may doubt it not, we
may read it in his blood streaming forth for
our cleansing. Yet, if any one, out of a deep
sense of his vileness, think, “I know that he
can cleanse me, but will he look upon such a
one 3 Or, if he look, will he not straight turn
away ? Will he vouchsafe to touch my filthy
sores, and apply his own precious blood for
my cleansing and healing 2 Yes, he will.”
Speak it not as doubting, but as humbly re-
ferring the matter, thou mayest even in the
same style, say, Lord, “I am filthy as ever any
that came to thee, yet, if thou wilt, thou canst
make me clean.” And thou shalt find that
powerful cure from a word of his mouth, and
a touch of his hand, that all thy scrubbing,
and washing, and bathing in legal self-cleans-
ings, could never have attained; and that not
only as to the guiltiness, but likewise as to the
power and polluting filthiness of thy sin. And
this is to be laid before him in the prevailings
of lusts and sinful impurities: “Lord, thou
knowest how impossible it is for me, and I
know how possible, how easy it is for thee,
to cleanse me.” And if thou shouldst say no
more, lie before him, and look upward till he
pity thee. If he be not changed from what
he was, he will pity thee, and thou shalt
find it.
Wer. 4. And Jesus saith unto him, See that
thou tell no man.] This charge not to divulge
the cure, besides our Lord's exemplary hu-
mility in avoiding noise, was that he might
wait the fitter time of discovering himself,
and because as yet, it might rather,hinder
him: as Mark i. 45. . The other evangelists
tell us that the man kept not this injunction,
wherein, though he was to be blamed, yet
there is some excuse in part, from the ardent
affection and overcoming joy that he could not
well conceal. Nor are we sharply to inveigh
against all the impertinences and imprudences
of new converts, in their speeches and car-
riage in religious things, though they are to be
admonished to study prudence. It is no won-
der that so high a change does a little trans-
port them beyond their bounds. The showing
to the priest, and offering of the gift, was
both a respect to the law, not as yet out of
date, and a provision for a testimony for Christ,
when it should be afterward known that he
had done it. This may be the meaning of
that word, for a testimony to them. And it
is not at all unlikely that the restraint from
publishing it to others, was only till it should
be first shown to the priest, and approved by
him as full cleanness, which, possibly, other-
wise, out of envy to Jesus Christ, they might
have denied, if it had been known and famed
abroad as his work.
Wer. 5–9. And when Jesus was entered
into Capernaum, there came unto him a cen-
turion, beseeching him.] The history of the
centurion hath much of the like confidence
and lowliness. He desired him but to say
the word, no more being needful for the thing
to be done, and no more fit to be desired of
him who is addressed. I am not worthy that
thou shouldst come under my roof. They that
spake for him, as St. Luke hath it, said, He
was worthy for whom Jesus should do this.
He, of a far different mind, sends by others
what is here related as his own speech ; they
speaking what he put in their mouths, that
he was not unworthy of Christ's presence.
His confidence of power in Christ's word to
do the deed, he expresses by the resemblance
of his own command over his soldiers. He
himself being but one under others; was yet
so readily obeyed by those under him ; and
he believed all diseases to be much more
under the word of Jesus's command. So, in-
deed, they know his word, and so, also, he
rebukes soul-diseases and they are gone, as
the fever in the next history. Oh! if we did
but believe this and put him to it! For faith
doth so, and in a manner commands him, as
he doth all other things.
Wer. 10. When Jesus heard it, he marvel-
led, and said unto them that followed, Verily,
I say unto you, I have not found so great
faith, no, not in Israel.] This man was a
stranger, and a soldier, yet, it seems, a pros-
elyte; and our Lord, receiving this as a kind
of first fruits of the Gentiles, foretells upon it
a plentiful harvest of them : Many shall
come, and the children of the kingdom be cast
out. Wer. 11. This is a harsh word to the
Jews; and yet, thus often, the most remote
and unlikely, who have long lived strangers
to religion, have proved notable converts:
and they that have lived from their child-
hood under a powerful ministry, and with per-
sons professing religion, and have themselves
been moulded into a form of it, yet die in their
sins, and never lay hold of that salvation un-
WER. 15–17.]
433
OF ST. MATTHEW’S GOSPEL.
to which they always seem to be so near.
And this near miss of happiness is the great-
est misery. Children of the kingdom in out-
ward appearance and church privileges, yet,
prove children of wrath, not only not enter-
ing into the kingdom they had a seeming ti-
tle to, but cast out into the dungeon of utter
darkness /
Observe the misery of the damned, re-
sembled by utter darkness, void of light, and
full of hideous noises and cries; weeping and
gnashing of teeth. And the happiness of
glory is resembled to a banquet, where there
is full light and joy; a coronation banquet,
where all the company of kings sit down with
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom
of God. And this and all other resemblan-
ces in Scripture are but a dark shadow of
that bright glory. Oh! were the things of
eternity, the misery and the blessedness to
come, indeed believed, how much would our
thoughts be in them, and how little room
would they leave for the trifles and vanities
that our hearts are taken up with !
Wer. 14. When Jesus was come into Peter's
house, he saw his wife's mother laid, and sick
of a fever.] He takes humble, compassion-
ate notice of all maladies where he comes,
and is touched with the griefs of his own,
and so moved as to touch and heal them.
This King's touch cures all sorts of diseases:
it did so while he walked in a low despised
condition on earth, and it does so still by that
virtual Divine power, now that he is in heav-
en ; and although his glory there is greater,
his compassion is not less than when he was
here ; and his compassion always was, and
is, directed much more to souls diseased, than
i ºlies. as they are better and more valu-
3. D. C.
Wer. 15. And she arose, and ministered
*17to º Oh! thus it should still be; yea,
thus it will be. They whom he cures, will
bestow upon him the health aud strength
they have received by him, and shall be ser-
viceable to him. How can it be so fitly and
duly employed ? Then are all deliverances
and favors, outward and inward work, most
kindly and sweetly enjoyed, when they are
most quickly and entirely returned to their
spring, all improved and offered up to him
from whom they come.
Wer. 16. When the even was come, they
brought unto him many that were possessed.]
Upon the report of these works, they run to
him in great numbers. Oh, that upon the
report of his all-healing virtue published in
the gospel, sick souls were thronging about
him! The others were welcome, but these
would be much more so. Many came to
him, and we hear of none who were turned
away without help. He cast out the spirits
with his word, and healed all that were sick,
Qh, come hither, all ye that have anything
that troubles you. Is it a lethargic, a dead
benumbness of spirit, or is it a fever, a boil-
ing of passions or lusiº yea, is it, as it were,
5
thee.
a kind of possession of an unclean or an un-
quiet spirit 3 Come forward : here is help
for thee. He cured those here, with his word.
Now that word of the prophet, here applied
(ver. 17), had its accomplishment in part,
even in these works; in his suffering the im-
portunity of the multitudes coming early and
late, and suffering likewise the maladies he
cured, by the tender compassion he felt in do-
ing it. He is not a hard-hearted, insensible
physician; no, he is matchless in love and
tenderness, feeling as it were their pains who
came to him, till they were cured; and he
still does feel the pains and groans of his
own, on their sick beds. And yet, all this,
his curing all these bodily evils, was but a
pledge of the higher averring and fulfilling
of the prophetical word. Our first disease
struck nearer to him by far, than those that he
cured: he put on the pain of all our trans-
gressions, the whole weight falling at once
upon his back, as the apostle renders it—bare
our sins in his own body on the tree. Now,
of that wonderful way of curing, by bearing
and transferring over upon himself our spirit-
ual maladies and miseries, there could not
be a fitter prelude and foresign, than this of
healing diseased bodies. Sickness is one of
the bitter and chief fruits of sin. Next to
proper spiritual evils, none are more griev-
ous, yea, none so much. It sits the closest,
and the sense of it can least be shifted. Oth-
er things that are without a man, are capa-
ble of more easy diversion ; fancy, or reason,
may bear off much ; but paining sickness
will not be so lightly argued out: the dem-
onstrations are very sensible and conclusive.
As in other things, so it is here ; health,
the chief of temporal blessings, as much as
anything, passes unesteemed and unconsid-
ered while we enjoy it. But oh, a fit of sick-
mess makes it sweet, gives it the highest rec-
ommendation: the groans and plaints of a
sick bed are the most powerful rhetoric to
commend health. What can a man enjoy of
all the pleasures and pomp about him, when
blasted by one sharp pain seizing upon any
part of him 2 Amidst all attendance and
furniture, he thinks the poorest scullion in
his house, that is in health, much happier
than he for the time. Yet this we think not
of, while we eat and sleep, and have tolera-
ble health ; consider not that continued mer-
cy, how great it is; think not on the differ-
ence between that, and loathing of all-food,
weary, restless nights, and tossings to and
fro until the morning.
Now I say, this considered, the goodness
and power of Jesus Christ were most fitly
manifested in this way, as introductive to the
great deliverance from sin and death, he
came to effect for us, by bearing them him-
self, in our stead, and so taking them away.
And so, in cures afterward, as you find in the
next chapter, he began to let out somewhat
of that, as the main : Thy sins are forgiven
And without this, what is health it-
434
[CHAP. VIII.
LECTURES ON THE FIRST NINE CHAPTERS
self, though in its kind very precious, espe-
cially when so speedily and easily restored
after sickness by a word or a touch 3 Yet,
what had this been but a little reprieval,
while the sentence of death, yea, eternal
death, was still standing, and shortly to fall
on 2 Oh, the lifting of that desperate sink-
ing burthen, our sins, and taking them upon
himself for us! How far do all words, and
what is larger, all thoughts, fall short of the
height of that love Oh, boundless, immense
love . It will take up etermity to consider it.
Wer. 18. Now when Jesus saw great multi-
tudes about him, he gave commandment to de-
part unto the other side..]. Other reasons may
be imagined for his withdrawing from these,
but it appears that his work now lay else-
where, and he was to go through it. And
the other evangelists are express in this: I
must preach also to other cities, for for this
came I forth. He had much work, and a
short time to perform it in ; so he follows it
diligently. Thus his servants ought to go or
stay, indifferently, for all places and services,
as they are called, and not to please others
and themselves, but him who sends them.
Wer. 19, 20. And a certain scribe came, and
said unto him, Master, I will follow thee
whithersoever thou goest. And Jesus saith
unto him, Fores have holes, &c.] Strange
Our Savior seems to turn off the very ready
and full offer of one, and to put forward an-
other who drew back. He is, indeed, abso-
lutely free in his choice, and may without
control do this, let pass high temporary fits
and offers, and lay hold on what hath far less
appearance. And the truth is, he is privy to
the secret actions of men's hearts, and can
discern in some of a very plausible zeal and
forwardness, some false principles within,
whence it is kindled ; and in others more
slow and inactive, sees under that more sin-
cerity at the bottom. This scribe, possibly,
taken with the splendor of Christ's miracles,
and the flocking of multitudes unto him, per-
ceived not his present poverty and meanness,
and after disgraces and sufferings. Many
make lavish offers to religion at a time when
it is in request, or possibly upon some dis-
cernment of its own worth and beauty, but do
not count the cost; consider not the enmity
of the world, the outward meanness, the re-
proaching and despisings that usually attend
it. It is indeed by far the best bargain with
all those who count the cost, if men would
understand it right, and think it so ere they
engage in 1t.
Now we see what condition Christ, who
was Lord of all, chose for our sakes, amid his
own to live as a stranger, having no property,
not so much as the beasts and the birds. He
became poor to make us rich, 2 Cor. viii. 9;
not rich in those things he was poor in, but
in things infinitely better. In that he calls
his followers, most commonly, to a conformi-
ty with himself: he forbids not, indeed, prop-
erty and possessions, but surely we should
learn amid all to walk, in affection at least,
like him, as strangers here, not glued to any-
thing, using the world as though we used it
not. And they who are really thus as he was,
oh, what comfort have they in this . How is
it sweetened to them, if in that condition they
Indeed follow him Hast thou no dwelling
of thy own, no possession, and little for pres-
ent supply 3 Look up to him who passed
through here in that very same way, and
cleave the closer to him ; so much the more
eye him as thy riches and portion, and thou
needst not envy kings in their best days. And
whatsoever be thy estate, how soon shall it
be past ! And all that live, have much a
like space of earth to lie down in at last. But
oh, the rich inheritance above, for all that lay
hold on it, and follow our Lord Jesus Christ
by the way !
Wer. 21. Lord, suffer me first to go and
bury my father.]. Now the other craves a de-
lay. And a world of such excuses there are.
They that will not give Christ an absolute
refusal, yet have somewhat first to be done.
This match, or bargain, or purchase, or at
least a time civilly to take farewell of friends;
and thus the most shift it off. But as to those
whom he resolves to have, he will not take
their refusal. Let the dead, says he, bury
their dead. There are enough of com-
mon persons, who have no share of life in
me, they may do that ; Follow thou me. Oh
happy they whom he will not loose ; whom
he powerfully, yet sweetly constrains to break
from all and follow him Sure I am, it shall
never repent them.
Wer. 23–27. And being entered into a ship,
there arose a great tempest.] Still new occa-
sions, and accordingly new evidence of the
Divine power of Jesus Christ. Upon the ship
wherein he is, there may, and usually does
arise a storm ; yet, happy is it to be embark-
ed with him upon all hazards ! His ship may
be tost, but perish it can not. His counsels
are deep and wise, and we can not find them
out. He knows what he is about to do, when
we can least understand him. When we think
that he leads out his people to be swallowed
up in the sea, or destroyed in the wilderness,
he is only raising a mount for himself to be
seen on, and bringing them into the view of
dangers, yea, of apparent ruin, to be more
glorious in their deliverance. His way is in
the deep, and his footsteps are not known.
Canst thou by searching find out God º says
he in Job. Which is not, I conceive, so much
meant of his essence, as of his operations and
ways, which are so profound and untraceable.
We are at a stand often to think what he
means to do; whether he has given up his
church and cause to the winds and waves,
when his enemies rage and roar, and he is
silent, as if he cared not what became of
all. The seas swell, the ship is tost, and he
sleeps.
Not to speak here of Christ putting on our
natural frailties, or of this sleep, whether it
WER. 23–27.]
435
OF ST. MATTHEW'S GOSPEL.
was natural or voluntary; it might be and
likely was both : wearied with the concourse
of the multitude on the land, he falls asleep
in the ship; yet, doubtless, he had the com-
mand of those natural inclinations in himself,
and chooses now to sleep, to increase the ap-
pearance of the danger, and add horror to the
visage of it. So no doubt it did ; not all the
blustering of the winds, nor the rising of the
waves, was so frightful and sad to the disci-
ples, as that their Master slept so sound in
the midst of them ; so sound as if rocked
asleep by them, and either wholly insensible,
or very regardless of their danger: as St. Luke
expresses their feelings, Carest thou not that
we perish 2 Now, in this man who slept,
dwelt God who sleeps not, the Watchman of
Israel, who does not so much as slumber. But
they, either not so clearly understanding, or,
in the fright, not so duly remembering and
considering this, were eying only the posture
wherein he was visible to them ; therefore,
the sounder he slept, it awaked and increased
their fear the more. And as Jesus Christ here
really did, even so God seems sometimes to
his own to do; and they express it so. Thus
the Psalmist: Awake, arise, why sleepest thou,
O Lord 2 This he seems to do, when the un-
godly prosper, and when his people lie trod-
den under foot, and he seems to take no no-
tice of their pressure, nor stirs for their deliv-
erance. And this is the saddest part of their
affliction; they have no hope nor stay, but in
the favor and protection of their God: now
when that is retired, and the curtain drawn,
and he asleep, their prayers not heard, and
no appearance of his help, I say it is a grand
trial of faith, which shakes and disquiets more
than all other things, how terrible soever. No
rage or noise of the enemy is so grievous as
the silence and sleeping of God. Thus, in a
soul, when lusts and temptations are swelling
and raging, and God is retired, and as asleep
to it, says nothing, controls them not, but suf-
fers them to take their course; this is that
which breeds the highest anguish, and brings
a soul to the mouth of the pit, to the brink
of desperation. Then it is forced to cry for a
word from his mouth : Lord Jesus, speak but
a word ; keep not silence to me, or I am un-
done: there is no recovery for me; if thou
keep silence, I am dead: I shall be like them
that go down to the pit; or, as it is here, Save,
Master, or we perish.
And this is one main end for which he does
sleep, to awake us, to rouse and stir our pray-
ers, which commonly are, in times of ease,
heavy, drowsy, lifeless things, as a man's
Speech in sleep, dreaming, incoherent, sense-
less stuff. This they may be to God, who
hearkens to what the heart says in them,
though, to man's ears, the words may be fit
and good sense. But by the straining of a
sharp affliction, or near pressing danger, the
heart is awaked and speaks itself. Such a
word seems to sound in its ears, as that of
the mariners to Jonah, Arise, thou sluggard,
and call upon thy God. Men lo but trifle in
fair weather, but in the storm they are more
in earnest. Especially, a soul acquainted
with God, that follows and relies upon him,
will take this course, and no other : it runs
straight to him, and if he be asleep, awakes
him. And in this they are to be approved
and commended, that, as here, their course is
to Jesus Christ, as confident of his power and
willingness to deliver them. This the disci-
ples did believe; otherwise they had not left
working for themselves, to go to awake him.
Yet was there, with their faith, a mixture
of distempered, distrustful fear, which Jesus
well knew, and which he would not other-
wise have charged them with. He doth not
altogether deny that there was faith in them,
but checks the deficiency of it: O ye of little
faith, why did ye doubt 2 Apprehend danger
and fear they might; yea, if they had not,
they would not have come to Christ in that
manner. Without a living sense of distress
or danger, there can be neither faith nor pray-
er. These are stirred up and raised to act,
by the knowledge and feeling of our need of
help. But the misery is, we scarcely in any-
thing know our bounds: our passions raised,
do usually overflow and pass the banks. A
little fear does but awake faith, but much
fear weakens it, and in the awakening gives
it too great a blow, such a one as astonishes
it, and makes it stagger. That they were
afraid, was tolerable; but their hearts, it
seems, were not so established in the persua-
sion of Christ's Divine power and care of them,
as became them ; and this he plainly, yet gen-
tly, checks. And there is this alloy of distrust
in believing, not only in the weaker, but even
in the strongest Christian ; and there is a
continual wrestling between them ; some-
times the one is uppermost, and sometimes
the other; but faith, in the end, shall have
the victory. See what strange difference
there was between Job and Job; would one
think it were the same person ?—one while
cursing his birth, and wishing for death, and
yet, afterward declaring, Though he slay me,
yet will I trust in him. And again, afterward,
complaining, Wherefore hidest thou thy face,
and holdest me for thy enemy? And yet anon,
again, I know that my Redeemer liveth. This
they should think of, who doubt because they
doubt, and multiply distrust upon itself, con-
cluding that they have no faith, because they
find so much and so frequent doubting with-
in them. But this is a great mistake. Some
doublings there may be, where there is even
much faith: and a little faith there may be,
where there is much doubting. But, upon
this account, is doubting by any means to be
entertained or favored ? Yea, it is to be hated
and opposed with all our strength, and the
strength of God must be implored to over-
come it, as the grand enemy of our peace,
and his glory. By all means is faith to be
cherished, and distrust to be checked. Our
Savior pardons it in his disciples, yet he
436
[CHAP. IX.
LECTURES ON THE FIRST NINE CHAPTERS
blames it. He refuses not his help, yet he
blames their unbelief, O ye of little faith !
He requires, and delights in a strong, firm be-
lieving on him, though the least and weakest
he rejects not.
Having first rebuked their fear, he rebukes
the storm that caused it, and makes a calm,
a great calm. No wonder that they wondered
at it: though they had seen many of his
works, and were now expecting somewhat
of this from him, yet it surpasses their ex-
pectation, and strikes them into admiration,
to see a man, a man subject to weariness and
sleep, and yet that man awaking to still the
wind and seas with the word of his mouth.
Oh the greatness of the Lord whom we
serve, the Sovereign of sea and land, com-
manding all with a word, desperate diseases,
blasting winds, raging seas, and tormenting
devils |
And there was a great calm. This often
happens in his church after such storms as
threatened shipwreck. And so in a soul,
when all within (and these are the worst
storms) is full of confusion and noises, the
heart working like a troubled sea, and finding
no rest neither from its own persuasions, nor
the skilfullest speeches of others, but, amid
all, likely to be swallowed up or split in
pieces; then, then, one word from Christ's
mouth quiets all presently, and makes the
soul calmer and smoother than the stillest
water in the fairest day. Oh, what wonder
and love will possess the soul that hath found
any such thing !
Ver. 28–34. And when he was come to the
other side, into the country of the Gergesenes,
there met him two possessed with devils.] The
following history hath many things of very
useful remark; but those things offer them-
selves to all that read it. We may see the
great malice of Satan, and the great power
and goodness of Jesus Christ, and the great
baseness and brutishness of the men of this
place, here spoken of Satan's malice appears
in the men possessed, carrying them to run wild
among tombs, and to commit outrage upon
them who passed by, and then, apprehending
their dispossession thence, to desire to go into
the swine of that place, and destroying them,
which was their design upon the men, as the
event proved. He who had the power, and
graciously used it, to cast them out of the
possessed men, was not tied to their suit as a
point of capitulation. He could have cast
them quite out of their coasts, and sent them
back immediately to their own prison ; but in
Divine wisdom and justice, he grants their
suit, knowing well what use they would
make of it, and what would follow.
But oh! the Gadarenes themselves were
the swine, viler than those the devils entered
and drowned : yea, they were worse pos-
sessed than the swine, and drowned in a
more fearful deep, by the craft of those dev-
ils. And that was their plot, The devils,
knowing how fast the hearts of the owners
were linked to their swine, thought it likely
that the swine being drowned, they would
follow, would drown themselves in the re-
jecting of Jesus Christ. And they did so.
How many who read or hear this with in-
dignation, yet, possibly, do little better in
their hearts— cleaving to their herds, or oth-
er goods, gains, or pleasures, or anything of
this earth, and in the love of these, refusing
Jesus Christ . Think it not a harsh word,
but take heed that ye be not such ; for of
the multitudes to whom Christ is offered,
there are very few whose hearts do really
open to him, and receive him. But oh, hap-
py they that do | This was the clearest in-
stance of perfect misery, and yet, they were
scarcely at all to be pitied, being the choosers
and devisers of it themselves: they besought
Jesus to depart, that is, besought life, and
blessedness to go from them. And what
does a sinner, when he turns out and rejects
motions and inspirations of holiness, lest his
lusts and pleasures of sin should be lost, but
dismiss Jesus, lest the swine should be
drowned 2
=ºmºmºmº
CHAPTER IX.
VER. 1. And he entered into a ship, and passed over,
and came into his own city.
HE who measures the waters in the hollow
of his hand, and commands them (as ch. V.
26), is ferried over in some boat or small ves-
sel. And was it not richly laden with trils in-
estimable pearl, all the treasures of wisdom
and knowledge, all fulness dwelling in him 3
All the rich ships from both the Indies, were
not to be compared to this.
Wer. 2. And behold, they brought to him a
man sick of the palsy..] The other evange-
lists tell with what difficulty they did so,
and how they overcame that difficulty with
resolution and industry, which indeed over-
come all. A strong bent toward Jesus Christ
will not be hindered. Nor is their violence
in uncovering the house, or their rudeness in
interrupting his discourse, rejected or reprov-
ed, but all is accepted for the principle, faith,
which was tempered with love to the sick,
and even to Jesus Christ, as the person from
whom they expected the cure.
And Jesus seeing their faith..] It is need-
less to dispute that one may be benefited by
the influence of another's faith. Surely, much
may be done by it. Thus, it may bring and
present a person, may recommend, may pray
for him, and may be respected in the grant
of mercy, not §§ in temporals, but in spir-
ituals. But yet, the just lives only by his own
faith, which no doubt this poor man had.
For the word, theirs, excludes not, but rath-
er includes the sick man's, who no doubt
consented to this course in the same confi-
dence. But yet, it is good to be in believ-
ing people's company. Another person, a
WER. 2–4.]
437
OF ST. MATTHEW'S GOSPEL.
family, a city, a Society, may fare the better
for the faith of an individual. Often, one
who prays in a family, averts judgments, and
draws down blessings upon the whole.
—Said unto the sick of the palsy, Son, be
of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven thee.]
This, though not appearing to be the errand,
was yet the most important part of the cure,
the root of blessings and blessedness, remov-
ing the root of all care and misery. Wheth-
er the sick man did most of all, or did at all
desire, or expect this at the hands of Jesus
Christ, we can not tell; but if he thought
not of it (and we see no other), oh, what a
surprise of love . It is good, coming to Je-
sus on any terms, on any errand. Some
come, driven by outward afflictions, and yet
return delivered from sin and eternal death.
In this respect, there is great variety in this
matter of declaring a pardon. Some seek and
knock, and wait long, and hear it not. Oth-
ers are prevented, who scarcely sought it,
but Christ's first word to them is this. But all
is one as to the main : they who seek it with
sorrow, shall be sure to find it with joy; and
they who first find it without previous sorrow,
shall yet be sure to find that sorrow for sin,
in some measure, likewise, after pardon, if
not before. And truly it seems sweetest and
kindliest, when mercy melts the heart. But
well may he say, be of good courage, who
could add this, thy sins be forgiven thee. Oh
what can dismay after this? The heart,
wholly filled with divine peace and love,
bears up all, and sorrow is turned into joy
before a soul thus assured. Jesus knew well,
that the healing of his palsy, without this
pardon, had been but a lame cure, only the
half, and the far less, the meaner half. This
was the main business that brought him
down from heaven to be a man, and to dwell
among men, and that made him die for man;
that which nailed him to the cross, and
drew forth his heart's blood : it was for the
remission of the sins of many. These cures
of bodily diseases, though clear demonstra-
tions of Christ's Divine power and goodness,
were but a transient appendage and symbol
of that mainly intended and highest mercy,
the forgiveness of sins.
The sentence of eternal death standing in
full force above the head of an unpardoned
sinner, if it were lively apprehended, oh!
what a paralytic trembling would it strike
the soul into, causing the joints of it to shake
and smite one upon another, in the midst of
its fullest health and mirth, as the hand-wri-
ting on the wall did that drunken king Bel-
shazzer. But we knownot what sin is, though
we hear and speak of it, and sometimes con-
fess it ; and therefore our hearts leap not at
the report of a pardon, though we hear of
it, and usually entreat it. Any of you, when
complaining that you are robbed, or spoiled
of your goods, would scarcely think it to the
purpose were I to tell you, your sins are par-
doned. But oh! how fit a word it is to an-
swer and drown all griefs; so pertinent that
nothing besides it is so! And happy that
soul that hears it from his mouth who gives
it, and who alone can ascertain it. This is
the answer that will satisfy. If thou sayest,
“I am diseased ;” ay, but thy sin is pardon-
ed. “I am poor;” ay, but thy sin is par-
doned. And surely, a soul that heeds it right,
will be quieted, and will be bold, of good
courage, as the word here is, and will embrace
all other burdens, and go light under them; will
say, “Lord, now let me live, or let me die, let
me abound or want, let me be healthy or
sick, take away what thou wilt, or lay on
what thou wilt, all is well; thou hast par-
doned my sin.”
Ver. 3. And behold certain of the scribes
said within themselves, This man blasphe-
meth.] Supposing Jesus but a man, yet,
there was no necessity for this construction.
He was a holy man, a singular, extraordina-
ry man, doing unparalleled miracles; and he
said not, I forgive thy sins, but Thy sins are
forgiven thee ; which was a word not beyond
the capacity of a prophetical power to say it
declaratively. And though there was an air
of authority, might they not have thought,
This may be the Messiah, who they knew
was to come, and was to be the Son of God,
and to bring remission of sins along with him?
But that base spirit, the spirit of envy, with
which they were filled, willingly rejects all
better sort of constructions, and fastens on
the absolutely worst it can invent. To an
eye that looks through the dark glass of pre-
judice and malice, all is discolored. Yet
they are struck with so much awe, that they
dare not speak it out. That which struck
them was, they were obscured by his bright-
ness. . They were animalia gloriae, as one
calls the philosophers, and could not endure
to go less in the opinion they had gained: a
Sore mischief, and one much attaching to
known and venerable possession. Genus ir-
ritabile vatum.
But a spirit devoted to HIM whose due all
glory is, willingly resigns it to him, in what
way he will. Let whoso will be best or chief,
so that still he be chief of all, and glorified in
all. The holy Baptist had another spirit
than these rabbies: he told it freely and glad-
ly, He must increase, but I must decrease. It
was his end, as the morning star is willingly
drowned in the brightness of the rising sun.
Ver. 4. And Jesus knowing their thoughts.]
This, without anything further, was clearly
enough to demonstrate his Divine power.
Oh that this was ever in our thoughts, that
all our thoughts are under his eye | If they
were so, and we know them to be so, to
some grave, wise man, how wary, and choice
should we be of them 2 And shall we have
less regard to the holiest and wisest Lord, to
whom they are all naked and open 2
Wherefore think ye evil in your hearts *)
There was no reason in the thing, but the
reason was, their hearts were evil, and their
438
[CHAP. IX.
LECTURES ON THE FIRST NINE CHAPTERS
emissions like themselves. An evil heart is
an incessant forge of evil thoughts. It is a
corrupt spring still issuing forth, and till it
be renewed, it can not find any other. From
the heart come evil thoughts: that is in the
front of all the black train that comes forth
of the heart, as our Savior teaches, Matt. xv.
19. These are the seeds of all the wicked-
ness that fills the world. Chief regard, there-
fore, is to be had to the heart. An excellent
advice that of Solomon, Keep thy heart with
all diligence. To amend some evil customs,
without the renewing of the heart, is but to
lop the branches that will grow again, or
others in their stead ; but a holy heart medi-
tates on holy things, is still in heaven, is all
reverence toward God, and meekness and
charity to men.
Wer. 5. Whether it is easier to say, Thy
sins be forgiven thee, or to say, Arise and
walk 2] Though the remission of sins flows
originally from the same power, and so is
equal, and in its own place hath the prefer-
ence, being by far the greater mercy, yet the
other of bodily cure runs into the senses, and
so both is more evident to the beholders, and
affects them more. The other word might
be spoken with less control, the efficacy or
inefficacy of it not falling under the cognition
of them that heard it; but this of healing the
palsy, would either be attested or denied in
the effect.
Ver. 6. But that ye may know that the Son
of man hath power on earth to forgive sins.]
Now he asserts a peculiar power of forgiving
sin. Though a man walking on the earth as
the rest, yet, in testimony of the divine pow-
er, He saith to the sick of the palsy—this
apostrophe maketh the proof more lively,
joining presently the real experiment of that
miraculous cure—Arise, take up thy bed.
That word which gave being to the world,
what is hard to it? And in the case of spir-
itual deadness, soul-palsy, no more is neces-
sary than a word from his mouth, and it shall
be lively and strong; it shall skip and leap.
Isa. xxxv. 6. Lord, speak that word ' And
indeed, wheresoever he pardons sin, he with-
al makes the soul able and nimble, to run in
the way of his commandments ; to carry its
bed, that before carried it: to command and
wield at pleasure those low things wherein it
rested.
Ver. 8. But when the multitude saw it they
marvelled.] They feared, says St. Luke. A
gracious work it was, yet so full of wonder,
that it struck them with a kind of fear. And
they glorified God. . Thus shall he break out,
and shine bright in his works, when most op-
posed by evil men. Yet they knew him not
well, but took him for an extraordinary man
only. But thus he was pleased to be known
by degrees, and to rise as the morning light.
It is a common presumption, and generally
that of the least knowing, to think that they
have the true and full sense of the articles of
religion ; and that presumption is commonly
accompanied with this precipitancy, that we
would constrain all to know and believe, at
once, without delay, whatsoever we think and
believe. Who had given such power unto
men. But had they known this honor given
unto men, that this man was God, they would
have wondered much more. And if he was
so astonishingly wonderful in healing a sick
man, how wonderful shall he be in raising
the dead ' And if in his lowness his power
was admired, how much more shall all ad-
mire that power which shall then be given
him, when the man, Christ, shall come in the
brightness of his glory, to judge the world !
Wer. 9. And as Jesus passed forth from
thence, he saw a man named Matthew, sitting
at the receipt of custom.]. He stayed no long
time upon earth, but he lost no part of that
time. Every step to us is a wonder of good-
ness. And here is a cure which the evan-
gelist ingenuously relates as done upon him-
self, which was no less, if not more wonder-
ful than that performed upon the paralytic ;
and done as easily and quickly by the same
means, a word spoken.
He saw a man named Matthew. He loves
first, and spies first, when we think on moth-
ing less than him ; as he says to Nathanael :
Before Philip called thee, when thou wast un-
der the fig-tree, I saw thee. And this seeing
of Matthew was no casual, but a designed
sight, proceeding from a former sight, like
unto that of Nathanael ; and is the sight of
his foreknowing and forechoosing love. So
even this very sight of his calling and con-
verting power did prevent Matthew, while he
thought of no such thing, and would have let
Jesus pass, being so intent upon his busy em-
ployment, as either not to have seen him at
all, or to have taken no notice of him.
Sitting at the receipt of custom. This is
the common case, the posture of called sin-
ners. While they are thinking of no such
thing, but altogether drowned in other de-
sires and cares (even at the church, their
hearts are often more in their shops, or fields,
or any earthly business they are engaged in),
their very hearts being a little customhouse,
such a crowd and noise of cares and vanities,
as there is usually of people in a custom-
house, He who hath their names in his book
of life, at his appointed time glances at them,
by a powerful look cast on them, and, by a
word spoken to them, draws them to himself;
and that without minding any previous worth
or congruous disposition in them, more than
in others; yea, finding them in a more indis-
posed temperand posture, possibly, than many
others who are not called, as the evangelist
here freely and humbly declares of himself,
speaking out his calling, and his busy dili-
gence in it, in the very instant that he is call-
ed from it. Observe, likewise, his expressing
of his common name, Matthew ; whereas the
other evangelist, in the recital of this story,
gives him that other name which was the
more honorable, Levi. Sitting at the receipt
of custom, a profession of great gain, but little
credit among the Jews; and though, possibly,
WER. 9–13.]
439
OF ST. MATTHEW'S GOSPEL.
not utterly unlawful in the nature of it, yet,
so generally corrupt in the exercise and man-
agement of it ; like some other callings,
which, though a man can not absolutely de-
termine them to be unlawful, are yet seldom
or never lawfully and spotlessly discharged.
Therefore, the Jews shunned the very socie-
ty of publicans (tax-gatherers) as a wicked,
execrable kind of men, and did in a manner
necessitate them to converse with the worst
sort of persons, as being expelled and gene-
rally avoided by all others; so that you find
them here, ver. 10, and usually in the gospel,
linked together, publicans and sinners, that is,
noted, nefarious sinners, such as harlots, and
other scandalously vicious persons. Yet from
this stained and ill-reputed calling, is Mat-
thew called by the holy Lord, to follow him.
As he called poor fishermen, and made them
fishers of men, to catch men, to save them by
their net spread, the word of life preached, so
he calls a rich publican to be a gatherer-in of
his tribute and treasure in the world, the
souls of chosen sinners, by the publication of
the gospel.
No rank of men is so low, as to be below
the condescension of his choice and grace ;
and none are so remote, in the reputed or real
iniquity of their station or person, as to be
without the extent and reach of his saving
hand. And he is pleased to give instances of
this in choosing whom he will, and making
them what he will, that no flesh may glory
before him, but that all flesh may glorify him,
whom no unworthiness or unfitness can pre-
judice, either in the freedom of his grace in
choosing them, or in the power of his grace
in changing the mind and fitting them for
for what he calls them to. He hath no need,
nor takes notice of our rules, nor judges ac-
cording to our thoughts. Not only have we
here a publican, but afterward a persecutor,
made a most eminent preacher and apostle
of Jesus Christ. And his choice and calling
wipes out the stain of all preceding sin, though
the persons themselves do readily acknowl-
edge it on all occasions, as St. Paul often
does, and St. Matthew does here. And in-
deed it is sincerity and humility for them who
are converted, at a great distance of time so
to do. But for others to object to them, after
their conversion, either the meanness or the
sinfulness of their former lives, were great
uncharity and folly : it were to reckon up to
men that which God hath blotted out, who
alone is interested in the account.
Herein God is wonderful, who seizeth on
some persons in the midst of youthful dissi-
pations, or violent pursuits of the world, and
purifies them for himself; makes them not
only vessels of honor, but of the first rank, to
bear his name to others; makes them emi-
nently holy, gives them great abilities, and
which is the top of all abilities, ardent
love, and mighty affection for his service.
His Spirit, that holy fire, refines gross earth
into the pureness of transparent glass, to be
the inlet of light to his people.
Now, why is this one taken from the cus-
tombouse, and so many others left, both
there and elsewhere, round about him 3 This
is arcanum imperii, a state secret : no rea-
son is to be expected but his good pleasure.
Why is such a poor creature in a cottage
chosen, and great palaces passed by ? Why
are simple and unlettered persons taught the
mysteries of heaven, and great wits left to
evaporate themselves upon vain loves, and
other like follies 2 Why in the same house
is one chosen and called, and it may be a ser-
vant, and the rest passed by ? Nothing can
be given in answer but this: Even so, Father,
because it pleaseth thee.
And he saith unto him, Follow me..] I am
not of the mind of a grave interpreter who
thinks there were other words added to per-
Suade him, though not related. I am some-
what confident that there was no more said
at all, this being our Savior's usual word of
calling others in the same way, and so pow-
erful a word, and of such mighty influence,
that there was no resisting it. He arose and
followed him. No chains so strong to hold
an earthly mind, as those of gold and silver.
He was here in the midst of them, and very
heavy ones they were, no doubt; yet, the
word makes the soul break loose with a mar-
wellous force from all. Some apprehend (as
well they may), there was an attractive pow-
er in the aimiable Jesus who here called him;
but surely the word had of his divine power
in it, and reached the heart, and could not be
resisted, and drew more strongly than all the
receipts, and gains, and involved business of
his profession, which could not hold him back.
So Elijah but cast his mantle upon Elisha in
passing, and he followed. What have I done
to thee 3 said he. Nothing to look at, yet
enough to constrain him to leave all and fol-
low him. So it is in the conversion of any
sinners ; no weights nor bolts can hold them :
they must follow a commanding word, such
as that which, in the creation, causes that to
be that it commands; a magnetic touch of
Jesus Christ, speaking in a word to the heart,
so that it must follow him. Oh! happy souls
that have felt it !
Wer. 10–13. And as Jesus sat at meat in the
house, behold, many publicans and sinners
came, and sat down with him, and his disci-
ples.] The other evangelists tell that it was
in Matthew's house, and at a great feast
which he made ; this himself does not men-
tion. This feast he made both as a respect-
ful, entertainment to his new Master, and as
a civil farewell to his old friends, and fellow
publicans: and possibly he took the confi-
dence to invite them together with Jesus
Christ, hoping that his presence and compa-
ny might have likewise some happy influence
upon some of them; and it is likely divers of
them came uninvited, out of a desire to see
Jesus, having heard of this his sudden and
powerful withdrawing of one who, no doubt,
was a prime man among them. However,
the mild and gracious Jesus refuses neither
440
[CHAP. IX.
LECTURES ON ST. MATTHEW’S GOSPEL.
the feast nor the company, condescending to
the most ordinary customs of life, and in
these things affecting nothing of austerity
and singularity; and he chose this compliant
way as most suitable to his design: He be-
came like us in all things, excepting sin.
But all along, the spirit of pharisaical envy
follows him, and lies at the catch for an ad-
vantage. Here it seemed fair for them. They
accost not himself with it, but his disciples,
hoping more easily to unsettle them of their
opinion of their Master: How is this? He
calls you to follow him as to some eminent
way of sanctity, and leads you unto feasting
and good cheer, and that with the refuse and
impurest sort of men, publicans and sinners.
Jesus takes on him the answer, as alone able
to give it home. Why 2 What wonder you
to see me in such company ? Why, where
should a man be, but where his business
lies 2 Were it strange to find a physician in
an hospital or infirmary, or anywhere among
the sick 2 Here is my work and great em-
ployment; and you might have read a word
applicable to this purpose: I will have mercy
and not sacrifice ; that is, rather than sacri-
fice, or any ceremonial observance, such as
this you urge, of abhorring the society of
such persons, substantial goodness and duties
of compassion and love. And instead of
squinting on what you see, go think on this.
You have read it likely, but do not well un-
derstand it ; study better what it means.
Meanwhile know this, that I am prosecu-
ting the great design of my coming into the
world, while I am in such company. I came
to call not the righteous, but sinners to re-
pentance. Not the righteous; either them
that conceit themselves such, as you do, or
any that are really converted already and re-
ligious. My present business is not so much
with them, as to restore the ungodly, to call
sinners to repentance.
I will not now speak of the rules and qualifi-
cations of using or avoiding the converse of un-
holy persons; but doubtless there lies much,
we shall find, as in this instance, in the due
consideration of the persons on both sides,
what hope there may be of reclaiming them,
and what safety of not being corrupted by
them, lest, while we think to pull them out
of the mire, they drag us into it. Here there
was none of that danger at all, and there was
the highest power for converting; and the
persons, even by coming so willingly where
he was, seem not to have been the most ob-
stinate and incorrigible. But we should re-
flect well on ourselves in this case, that our
intention be suitable to this, and that we be
in some measure hopeful to be able to accom-
plish, before we attempt, such a thing : oth-
erwise it will prove fool-hardiness, to adven-
ture much of this kind.
But this is the great comfort of sinners, this
word: I came to call not the righteous, but
sinners. What can a diffident heart say, that
it should not come to Jesus Christ? Art
thou a sinner, an eminent sinner } There-
fore come to him, for he came to thee. It is
such that he comes to seek—they are the
very objects of his grace. He had nothing
else to do in the world but to save such ; he
came on purpose for their sakes. His very
name tells it: He shall be called Jesus, for
he shall save his people from their sins. It is
so far from being a just hinderance, that it is
the only title to his favorable intentions, that
thou art a sinner. Were it not strange if one
should say, I am sick, very sick, therefore I
will not make an address to the physician 2
And to say, I am a sinner, and a great one,
therefore I dare not go to the Savior of sin-
ners, would be equally strange. Oh, no; there-
fore I will go : he came for me ; I am sure
he is able to heal me—ought to be the lan-
guage of all such.
But though this is a great encouragement
to sinners, it is no encouragement at all to
sin. He came to call sinners, but it is to call
them to repentance. This the whole gospel,
and all the doctrine of grace, still presses. If
thou bring thy sins to Jesus Christ, as thy
malady and misery, to be cured of them, and
delivered from them, it is well; but to come
with them as thy beloved darlings and de-
light, thinking still to retain them and re-
ceive him, thou mistakest him grossly, and
miserably deludest thyself. He came forth
from God, to restore souls to God, in order to
make us partakers of his Divine nature. The
great intendment of the blessed Jesus, and
the great redemption, he wrought is, to sepa-
rate our hearts and sin. We know him not,
if we take it otherwise. And this says
clearly, that though he hath come to us, and
stretched forth his hands long among us, few
of us are come to him. Oh how few have
trod on the neck of their beloved sin, to come
to Jesus Christ This is the great, deplora-
ble wretchedness of the land: not the losses
and ravages of war; not the loss of civil lib-
erty, or anything else that way ; this is it—
Unrepentance. We turn not by being smit-
ten with the sharpest rod : we turned not by
being invited with tender mercies. Look on
such as have been suffering at home, or
wandering abroad ; what change has been
wrought on our hearts 2 What imports who
do, or do not, rule over us, while our unwor-
thy lusts and passions still do 2 If spoiled
and poor, and without Christ too, then we
are poor indeed; oh, pitiful poor Yea, if
thou escape many things that light sadly on
others, yet, if thou hast not escaped the do-
minion of sin, and that curse of death that
cleaves to it, oh, wretched caitiff. Think
what Jesus came and died for—what we live
for—and what is our great business on this
earth—that our sins should die before us. He
came to call the earthly to heavenly-minded-
ness and heavenly conversation ; to call the
unclean to purity ; to call the passionate and
furious to meekness; to call the proud to hu-
mility. Oh, answer this call. Give him the
desire of his heart, and he will certainly give
thee thine.
S E R M 0 N S ,
*-*-*.
SERMION I.
HEAVENLY WISDOM.
MANY and great are the evils that lodge
within the heart of man, and they come forth
abundantly both by the tongue and by the
hand, yet the heart is not emptied of them ;
yea, the more it vents them outwardly, the
more they increase within. Well might HE
who knows the heart so well, call it an evil
treasure. We find the prophet Ezekiel, in
his eighth chapter, led by the Lord in vision
to Jerusalem, to view the sins of the Jews
who remained there in the time of the cap-
tivity: when he had showed him one abom-
ination, he caused him to dig through the
Wall, to enter and discover more, and so di-
rected him several times, from one place to
another, and still said, I will show thee yet
greater abominations. Thus it is with those
whom the Lord leads into an examination of
their own hearts (for men are usually stran-
gers to themselves), by the light of his word,
and his Spirit going before them ; he lets
them see heaps of abominations in every
room, and the vilest in the most retired and
darkest corners. And truly, should he leave
them there, they would despair of remedy.
No ; he makes this discovery on purpose that
they should sue to him for help. Do so, then,
as many of you as have taken any notice of the
evils of your own hearts. Tell the Lord, those
hearts are his own work: He formed the heart
of man within him. And they are his own
choice too: My son, give me thy heart. En-
treat him to redress all those abuses where-
with Satan and sin have filled it, and then to
take possession of it himself, for therein con-
sists its happiness. This is, or should be, a
main end of our resortings to his house and
service. Wrong not yourselves so far as to
turn these serious exercises of religion into
an idle divertisement. What a happiness
were it, if every time you come to his solemn
worship, some of your strongest sins did re-
ceive a new wound, and some of your weak-
est graces a new strength !
JAMES iii. 17.
But the wisdom that is from above, is first pure, then
peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full of
mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and
without hypocrisy.
God doth know, that in the day that ye
shall eat thereof, your eyes shall be opened,
and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and
evil, was the first hissing of that old serpent,
by which he poisoned mankind in the root.
Man, not contented with the impression of
God’s image, in which he was created, lost it
by catching at a shadow. Climbing higher
than his station, he fell far below it: seeking
to be more than man, to become as God, he
made himself less than man. He lodged not
a night in honor, but became as the beasts that
perish. Psalm xlix, 12. Ever since, nature's
best wisdom is full of impurity, turbulency,
and distemper; nor can anything rectify it,
but a wisdom from above, that both cleanseth
and composeth the soul: it is first pure, and
then peaceable.
This epistle, as some that follow, is called
general, both by reason of the dispersion of
the parties to whom it is addressed, and the
universality of the subject which it treats;
containing a great number (if not all) of the
necessary directions and comforts of a Chris-
tian's life, both for the active and the passive
part of it. It is evident that the apostle's
main design is, to arm the dispersed Jews
against all kinds of temptations—both those
of affliction, in the first chapter, at the 2d
verse, and sinful temptations, verse 13th.
And having discoursed of two special means
of strengthening them against both—speak-
ing to God ºn prayer, and hearing God speak
wn his word—in the last two verses of that
first chapter, he recommends, as chief duties
of religion, and sure evidences of integrity in
religion, first, meekness and moderation, chief-
ly in their speeches, and then, charity and pu-
rity in their actions ; insisting largely upon
the latter, in the second chapter, and upon
the former, the ruling of the tongue, in the
third chapter: and here, toward the end of
it, he shows the true opposite springs of mis-
carriage in speech and action, and of right or-
dering and regulating of both. Evil conver-
sation, strifes, and envyings, are the fruits of
a base wisdom that is earthly, sensual, and
devilish, ver, 15th ; but purity, meekness, and
mercy, are the proper effects and certain
signs of heavenly wisdom.
The wisdom that is from above is first pure :
its gentleness can agree with anything except
impurity. Then it is peaceable—it offends
nobody, except purity offend them. It is not
raging and boisterous. It is not only pure,
being void of that mire and dirt which the
wicked are said to cast out like the sea (Isa.
lvii. 20), but peaceable likewise, not swelling:
and restless like the sea, as is there said of
the wicked. Nor is it only peaceable mega-
tively, not offending, but as the word bears
56
#42
[SER. I.
THE NATURE AND PROPERTIES
ſtipnviki] pacific, disposed to make and seek
peace. And as it readily offends none, so it
is not easily offended. It is gentle and mod-
erate, [erteichs], and if offended, [sireiºs], easil
entreated to forgive. And as it easily passet
by men's offences, so it doth not pass by, but
looks upon their distresses and wants—as full
of compassion as it is free from unruly and
distempered passions. Nor rests it in an af-
fected sympathy ; its mercy is helpful—full
of mercy and good fruits. And it both for-
gives and pities, and gives without partiality,
and without hypocrisy : [aduakpuros kai dvorókpt-
ros]. The word ačičkptros may as well bear
another sense, no less suiting both with this
wisdom, and these its other qualities; that is,
not taking upon it a censorious discerning,
and judging of others. They that have most
of this wisdom, are least rigid to those that
have less of it. I know no better evidence
of strength in grace, than to bear much with
those that are weak in it. And lastly, as it
spares the infirmities of others, so it makes
not false and vain shows of its own excellen-
cies; it is without hypocrisy. This denies
two things, both dissimulation and ostenta-
tion. The art of dissembling or hypocrite-
craft, is no part of this wisdom. And for the
other, ostentation, Surely the air of applause
is too light a purchase for solid wisdom. The
works of this wisdom may be seen, yea, they
should be seen, and possibly be now and then
commended; but they should not be done for
that low end, either to be seen or to be com-
mended. Surely not, being of so noble ex-
traction. This wisdom having descended
from heaven, will be little careful for the es-
timation of those that are of the earth, and
are but too often of the earth, earthly.
The due order of handling these particulars
more fully can not well be missed. Doubtless,
the subject (wisdom from above) requires our
first consideration; next, the eacellent quali-
ties that are attributed to it; and lastly, their
order is to be considered, the rather because
So clearly expressed, first pure, then peacea-
ble, &c.
Wisdom from above.] There be two things
in that: there is the general term of wisdom,
common to divers sort of wisdom, though
most eminently and truly belonging to this
best wisdom ; then there is the birth or ori-
ginal of this wisdom, serving as its difference
to specify and distinguish it from all the rest
—wisdom from above. Wisdom, in the gen-
eral, is a very plausible word among men.
Who is there that would not willingly pass
for wise ? Yea, often those that are least of
all such, are most desirous to be accounted
such ; and where this fails them, they usually
make up that want in their own conceit and
strong opinion. Nor do men only thus love
the reputation of wisdom, but they naturally
desire to be wise, as they do to be happy'.
yet, through corrupt nature's blindness, they
do as naturally mistake and fall short both of
the one and the other ; and being once wrong,
the more progress they make, they are farther
out of the way, and pretending to wisdom in
a false way, they still befool themselves, as
the apostle speaks, Rom. i. 22: pāoxovres siva
go?oi épopavôngav. Professing themselves to be
wise, they become fools. ſº
Our apostle, ver. 15, speaking of that wick-
ed wisdom that is fruitful of wrongs, strifes,
and debates, and that is only abusively to be
called wisdom, shows what kind of wisdom
it is, by three notable characters, earthly,
watural, and devilish ; which though they be
here jointly attributed to one and the same
subject, yet we may make use of them to
signify some differences of false wisdom.
There is an infernal, or devilish wisdom,
proper for contriving cruelties and oppressions,
or subtle shifts and deceits that make atheism
a main basis and pillar of state policy : such
as those that devise mischief upon their beds.
&c. Mic. ii. 1. This is a serpentine wisdom,
not joined with, but most opposite to the dove-
like simplicity. There is an earthly wisdom
that draws not so deep in impiety as that
other, yet is sufficient to keep a man out of
all acquaintance with God and Divine matters,
and is drawing his eye perpetually down-
ward, employing him in the pursuit of such
things as can not fill the soul, except it be
with anguish and vexation. By thy great
wisdom, and by thy traffic hast thou increased
thy riches, and thine heart is lifted up because
of thy riches. Ezek. xxviii. 5. That dexterity
of gathering riches, where it is not attended
with the Christian art of rightly using them,
abases men's souls, and indisposes them
wholly for this wisdom that is from above.
There is a natural wisdom far more plausible
than the other two, more harmless than that
hellish wisdom, and more refined than that
earthly wisdom, yet no more able to make
man holy and happy than they are: Natural,
Juxtrº, it is the word the Apostle St. Paul
useth. 1 Cor. ii. &v6poros puxuros, naming the
natural man by his flººr part, his soul: in-
timating that the soul, even in the highest
faculty of it, the understanding, and that in
the highest pitch of excellency to which
nature can raise it, is blind in spiritual objects.
Things that are above, can not be known but
by a wisdom from above. Nature neither af-
fords this wisdom, nor can it of itself acquire
it. There is to advertise us, that we mistake
not morality and common knowledge, even of
Divine things, for the wisdom that is from
above. That may raise a man high above
the vulgar, as the tops of the highest moun-
tains leave the valleys below them ; yet is it
still as far short of true supernatural wisdom,
as the highest earth is of the highest sphere.
There is one main point of the method of this
wisdom that is of most hard digestion to a
natural man, and the more natural wise he
be, the worse he likes it : If any man would
be wise, let him become a fool that he may be-
come wise. 1 Cor. iii. 18. There is nothing
gives nature a greater prejudice against re-
I AMEs lii. 17.]
443
OF HEAVENLY WISDOM.
ligion, than this initial point of self-denial.
When men of eminent learning, or the strong
politicians, hear that, if they will come to
Christ, they must renounce their own wisdom
to be fit for his, many of them go away as
sorrowful as the young man when he heard
of selling all his goods and giving them to
the poor.
Jesus Christ is that eternal and substantial
WISDOM that came from above, to deliver
men from perishing in their affected folly, as
you find it at large in Prov. viii. St. Paul, in
the first chapter of his first epistle to the Cor-
inthians, calls him the wisdom of God, ver. 24;
that shows his excellency in himself: and
ver, 30, he tells us that he is made of God our
wisdom ; that shows his usefulness to us. And
by him alone is this infused wisdom from above
conveyed to us. In him are the hid treasures
of wisdom and knowledge, Col. ii. 3; and from
his fulness, if at all, we all receive grace for
grace ; and of all graces, first some measures
of this wisdom, without which no man can
know himself, much less can he know God.
Now this supernatural wisdom hath in it
both speculation and prudence; it is contem-
plative and practical : these two must not be
separated. I wisdom dwell with prudence.
Prov. viii. 12. This wisdom, in its contem-
plative part, reads Christ much, and discovers
in him a new world of hidden excellencies
unknown to this old world. There are treas-
ures of wisdom in him, but they are hid, and
no eye sees them, but that which is enlighten-
ed with thy wisdom. No, it is impossible,
as one says (Sophocles), rá 6eta yuával spurrovros
6éoù, to know Divine things while God con-
cealeth them. But when the renewed under-
standing of a Christian is once initiated into
this study, it both grows daily more and
more apprehensive, and Christ becomes
more communicative of himself, and makes
the soul more acquainted with the amiable
countenance of his Father in him reconciled.
No man hath seen God at any time; the only
begotten Son which is in the bosom of the
Father, he hath declared him. John i. 18.
What wonder if the unlettered and despised
Christian knows more of the mysteries of
heaven, than the naturalist, though both wise
and learned ? Christ admits the believer into
his bosom, and he is in the bosom of the Fa-
ther. But withal know, that all this knowl-
edge, though speculatively high, yet descends
to practice: as it learns what God is, so it
thence teacheth man, what he should be.
This wisdom flows from heaven, and a heaven-
ly conversation flows from it; as we find it
there characterized by those practical graces
of purity, peace, meekness, &c.
This wisdom represents to us, the purity of
God’s nature. 1 John iii. 3. It gives the soul
an eye to see the comeliness and beauty of
purity: as the philosopher said of virtue, to
the end it might be loved, he would wish no
more but that it could be seen. And as it
thus morally persuades, so, by an insensible
virtue, it assimilates the soul to Christ, by
frequent contemplation. It also produces all
the motives to holiness and obedience; it
begets these precious qualities in the soul.
It giveth a Christian a view of the matchless
virtues that are in Christ, and stirs him up to
a diligent, though imperfect imitation of them.
It sets before us Christ's spotless purity, in
whose mouth there was no guile, and so in-
Vites us to purity. It represents the perpetual
calmness of his spirit, that no tempest could
reach to disturb it: In his mouth there was no
contentious noise, his voice was not heard in
the streets ; and this recommends peaceable-
mess, and gentleness. And so in the rest here
mentioned.
Hence, I conceive, may be fitly learned for
our use, that seeing here is a due wisdom and
knowledge necessary for guidance and direc-
tion in the ways of purity and peace, it is
evident that gross ignorance can not consist
with the truth of religion, much less can it be
a help and advantage to it. I shall never deny
that a false, superstitious religion stands in
need of it: “Not too much scripture wisdom
for the people.” The pomp of that vain re-
ligion, like court masks, shows best by candle-
light. Fond nature likes it well: the day of
spiritual wisdom wonld discover its imposture
too clearly. But to let their foul devotion pass
(for such it must needs be that is born of so
black a mother as ignorance), let this wisdom
at least be justified of those that pretend to
be her children. It is lamentable that among
us, where knowledge is not withheld, men
should, through sloth and love of darkness,
deprive themselves of it. What abundance
of almost brutish ignorance is among the
commons ! and thence arise uncleanness, and
all manner of wickedness: a darkness that
both hides and increaseth impurity. What is
the reason of so much impiety and iniquity
in all places, but the want of the knowledge
of God? Not knowing Jesus Christ, and not
obeying his gospel, are joined together. Hosea
iv. 1, 2 ; 2 Thess. i. 8. It will be found true,
that where there is no obedience, there is no
right knowledge of Christ. But out of all
question, where there is not a competency of
knowledge, there can be no obedience. And
as these two lodge together, to observe what
attends them both. He shall come in flaming
fire to render vengeance on them that know
not God, and that obey not the gospel of our
Lord Jesus Christ.
And if there be any that think to shroud
umpunished among the thickets of ignorance,
especially amidst the means of knowledge,
take notice of this; though it may hide the
deformity of sin from your own sight for a
time, it can not palliate it from the piercing
eye, nor cover it from the revenging hand of
Divine Justice. As you would escape, then,
that wrath to come, come to wisdom's school,
and how simple soever ye be as to this world,
if you would not perish with the world, learn
to be wise unto salvation.
444
[SER. I.
THE NATURE AND PROPERTIES
And truly, it is mainly important for this
effect, that the ministers of the gospel be
active and dexterous in imparting this wisdom
to their people. If they would have their
conversation to be holy, and peaceable, and
fruitful, &c., the most expedient way is at
once to principle them well in the fundamen-
tals of religion; for therein is their great de-
fect. How can they walk evenly and regu-
larly, so long as they are in the dark 2 One
main thing is, to be often pointing at the way
to Christ, the fountain of this wisdom. With-
out this, you bid them be clothed, and clothe
them not.
How needful then is it, that pastors them-
selves be seers indeed, as the prophets were
called of old ; not only faithful but wise dis.
pensers, as our Savior speaks, Luke xii. 42,
that they be dičakrºkoi, able and apt to teach.
1 Tim. iii. 2. Laudable is the prudence that
tries much the churches' storehouses, the
seminaries of learning ; but withal, it is not
to be forgot, that as a due furniture of learning
is very requisite for this employment, so it is
not sufficient. When one is duly enriched
that way, there is yet one thing wanting, that
grows not in schools: except this infused
wisdom from above season and sanctify all
other endowments, they remain kolvă common
and unholy, and therefore unfit for the sanc-
tuary. Among other weak pretences to
Christ's favor in the last day, this is one, We
have preached in thy name ; yet says Christ,
I never knew you. . Surely, then, they know
not him, and yet they preached him. Cold
and lifeless (though never so fine and well
contrived) must those discourses be, that are
of an unknown Christ. Pastors are called
angels, and therefore, though they use the
secondary helps of knowledge, they are main-
ly to bring their message from above, from
the fountain, the head of this pure wisdom.
Pure.] If it come from above, it must needs
be pure originally; yea, it is formally pure
too, being a main trait of God’s renewed im-
age in the soul. By this wisdom, the under-
standing is both refined and strengthened to
entertain right conceptions of God in his na-
ture and works. And this is primarily neces-
sary, that the mind be not infected with false
opinions in religion. If the spring-head be
polluted, the streams can not be pure. This
is more important than men usually think, for
a good life. But that which I suppose to be
here chiefly intended, is, that it is effectively
and practically pure: it purifies the heart
(Said of faith, Acts xv. 9, which, in some sense
and acceptation, differs not much from this
wisdom), and consequently, the words and
actions that flow from the heart.
This purity, some render chastity: The
wisdom from above is chaste, áyvil. The word
is indeed often so taken, and includes that
here, but it is too narrow a sense to restrict
it to that only. It implies here, a universal
detestation of all impurity, both of flesh and
spirit, as the apostle speaks, 2 Cor. vii. 1.
Pride, self-love, profaneness of spirit, and
irreligion, though they do not so properly pol-
lute the body as carnal uncleanness, yet they
do no less defile the soul, and make it abomi-
nable in the sight of God. Those apostate
angels, called unclean spirits, are incapable
of bodily defilement, though indeed they tempt
and inveigle men to it; their own inherent
pollutions must needs be spiritual, for they
are spirits. Idolatry in Scripture, goes often
under the name of fornication and adultery;
and indeed these sins may mutually borrow
and lend their names the one to the other ;
idolatry may well be called spiritual unchasti-
ty, and unchaste love, carnal idolatry. Earth-
ly-mindedness likewise is an impurity of the
soul: in the apostle's phrase, covetousness is
idolatry, and so, a spiritual pollution ; yea,
it may well share with idolatry in its borrow-
ed name, and be called adultery too, for it
misbestows the soul's prime affection upon the
creature, which right is God’s peculiar due.
This purity that true wisdom works is con-
trary to all pollution. We know then in some
measure what it is: it remains to inquire
where it is ; and there is the difficulty. It is
far easier to describe it in itself, than to find
it among men. Who can say I have made my
heart clean 2 Proverbs xx. 9. Look upon the
greatest part of mankind, and you may know
at first sight, that purity is not to be looked
for among them : they suffer it not to come
near them, much less to dwell with them and
within them ; they hate the very semblance
of it in others, and themselves delight in in-
temperance and all manner of licentiousness,
like foolish children striving who shall go far-
thest into the mire. These can not say, they
have made clean their hearts, for all their
words and actions will belie them. If you
come to the mere moralist, the world's honest
man, and ask him, it may be he will tell you,
he hath cleansed his heart; but believe him
not. It will appear he is not yet cleansed,
because he says he has done it himself; for
(you know) there must be some other beside
man at this work; again, he rising up no higher
than nature, hath none of this heavenly wis-
dom in him, and therefore is without this pu-
rity too. But if you chance to take notice of
some well-skilled hypocrite, everything you
meet with makes you almost confident, that
there is purity; yet, if he be strictly put to it,
he may make some good account of the pains
he hath taken to refine his tongue and his
public actions, but he dares not say he hath
made clean his heart ; it troubles his peace to
be asked the question. He never intended to
banish sin, but to retire it to his innermost
and best room, that so it might dwell unseen
within him; and where then should it lodge
but in his heart? Yet, possibly, because what
is outward is so fair, and man can not look
deeper to contradict him, he may embolden
himself to say, he is inwardly suitable to his
appearance; but there is a day at hand that
shall, to his endless shame, at once discover
JAMEs iii. 17.]
445
OF HEAVENLY WISDOM.
both his secret impurity and his impudence in
denying it. -
After these, there follow a few despised and
melancholy persons (at least as to outward
appearance), who are almost always hanging
down their heads, and complaining of abun-
dant sinfulness. And surely, purity can not
be expected in these who are so far from it by
their own confession ; yet the truth is, that
such purity as is here below, will either be
found to lodge among these, or nowhere. Be
not deceived; think not that they who loath,
and (as they can) flee from the unholiness of
the world, are therefore taken with the con-
ceit of their own holiness; but as their perfect
purity of justification is by Christ's imputed
righteousness, so likewise they will know,
and do always acknowledge, that their inhe-
rent holiness is from above too, from the same
fountain, Jesus Christ. The wisdom from
above is pure; this is their engagement to hu-
mility, for it excludes vaunting and boasting;
and beside that, it is imperfect, troubled and
stained with sin, which is enough to keep
them humble. Their daily sad experience
will not suffer them to be so mistaken : their
many faults of infirmity can not but keep them
from this presumptuous fault. There is a gen-
eration, indeed, that are pure in their own
eyes, but they are such as are not washed
from their filth. Prov. xxx. 12. They that
are washed, are still bewailing that they
again contract so much defilement. The
most purified Christians are they that are
most sensible of their impurity. Therefore I
called not this a universal freedom from pol-
lution, but a universal detestation of it. They
that are thus pure, are daily defiled with many
sins, but they can not be in love with any sin
at all, nor do they willingly dispense with the
smallest sins, which a natural man either sees
not to be sin (though his dim moonlight dis-
cover grosser evils), or, if he do not see them,
yet he judges it too much niceness to choose
a great inconvenience rather than a little sin.
Again, they differ in another particular: a nat-
ural man may be so far in love with virtue
after his manner, as to dislike his own faults,
and resolve to amend them ; but yet he would
think it a great weakness to sit down and
mourn for sin, and to afflict his soul, as the
Scripture speaks. The Christian's repent-
ance goes not so lightly ; there is a great deal
more work in it. There is not only indigna-
tion against impurity, but it proceeds to re-
venge, 2 Cor. vii. 11. The saints we read of
in Scripture, were ashamed of their impurity,
but never of their tears for it. Let the world
enjoy their own thoughts, and account it fol-
ly, yet surely the Christian who delights in
purity, seeing he can not be free from daily
Sin, when he retires himself at night, is then
best contented when his eyes serve him most
plentifully to weep out the stains of the by-
past day; yet he knows withal that it is only
his, Redeemer's blood that takes away the
guilt of them. This is the condition of those
that are truly, though not fully cleansed from
the pollutions of the world by the Spirit of
wisdom and purity. What mean they, then,
who would argue themselves out of this num-
ber, because they find yet much dross left, and
that they are not so defecated and refined as
they would wish to be 2 On the contrary,
this hatred of pollution testifies strongly that
the contrary of it, purity, is there; and though
its beginnings be ji. doubt not, it shall in
the end be victorious. The smoking of this
flaw shows indeed that there is gross matter
there, but it witnesseth likewise that there is
fire in it too, and though it be little, we have
Christ's own word for it, that it shall not be
quenched ; and if he favor it, no other power
shall be able to quench it. You find not, in-
deed, absolute holiness in your persons, nor in
your best performances, yet, if you breathe
and follow after it, if the pulse of the heart
beat thus, if the main current of your affec-
tions be toward purity, if sin be in you as
your disease and greatest grief, and not as
your delight, then, take courage: you are as
pure as travellers can be ; and notwithstand-
ing that impure spirit, Satan, and the impu-
rity of your own spirits, vex you daily with
temptations, and often foil you, yet, in de-
spite of them all, you shall arrive safe at home
where perfection dwells.
The wisdom from above is pure.] Be asham-
ed, then, of your extreme folly, you that take
pleasure in any kind of uncleanness. Espe-
cially, seeing God hath reformed and purged
his house among us, you that are, or should
be, his living temples, remain not unreformed.
If you do, church-reformation will be so far
from profiting you, that as a clearer light, it
will but serve to make your impurity both
more visible and more inexcusable. If you
mean that the Holy Ghost should dwell with
you, entertain him, avoiding both spiritual
and fleshly pollutions. The word he used
doth more particularly signify chastity ; and
certainly, wherever this wisdom from above
is, this comely grace is one of her attendants.
Whatever any have been in times past, let
all be persuaded henceforth to mortify all
lustful and carnal affections. Know that
there is more true and lasting pleasure in the
contempt of unlawful pleasures, than in the
enjoyment of them. Grieve not, then, the
good Spirit of God with actions or speeches,
yea, or with thoughts that are impure. The
unholy soul, like the mystical Babylon, makes
itself a cage of unclean birds, and a habita-
tion of filthy spirits; and if it continues to be
such, it must, when it dislodges, take up its
habitation with cursed spirits for ever in utter
darkness. But as for those that are sincerely
and affectionately pure, that is, pure in heart,
our Savior hath pronounced their begun hap-
piness—Blessed are they that are pure in
heart, and assured them of full happiness—
for they shall see God. This wisdom is sent
from heaven on purpose to guide the elect
thither by the way of purity. And mark how
446
[SER. II.
THE PATIENT AND DOCILE SUFFERER.
well their reward is suited to their labor —
their frequent contemplating and beholding
of God’s purity as they could, while they
were on their journey, and their laboring to
be like him, shall bring them to sit down in
glory, and to be for ever the pure beholders
of that purest object. They shall see God.
What this is, we can not tell you, nor can
you conceive it; but walk heavenward in pu-
rity, and long to be there, where you shall
know what it means: For you shall see him
as he is.
Now to that blessed Trinity be praise for
ever !
*----...-,
SERMON II.
THE PATIENT AND DOCILE SUFFERER.
I will return to my place, saith the Lord by
his prophet, till they acknowledge their of.
fence, and seek my face. In their affliction
they will seek me early. Hos. v. 15. The Fa-
ther of mercies hides himself from his chil-
dren, not to lose them, but that they may seek
him, and may learn, having found him, to
keep closer by him than formerly. He threat-
ens them, to keep them from punishment: if
his threatening work submission, it is well;
if not, he punishes them gently, to save them
from destruction. He seeks no more but that
they acknowledge their offence, and seek his
face. Wonderful clemency . For who can
forbear to confess multitudes of offences, who
know themselves? And who can choose but
seek thy face, who ever saw thy face, and
who know thee ? In their affliction they will
seek me early. He that prays not till affliction
comes and forces him to it, is very slothful;
but he that prays not in affliction, is altogeth-
er senseless. Certainly, they that at this
time are not more than ordinarily fervent in
prayer, or do not at least desire and strive to
be so, can not well think that there is any
spiritual life within them. Surely it is high
time to stir up ourselves to prayers and tears.
All may bear arms in that kind of service.
Weak women may be strong in prayer ; and
those tears wherein they usually abound upon
other occasions, can not be so well spent as
this way. Let them not run out in howlings
and impatience, but bring them, by bewailing
sins, private as well as public, to quench this
public fire. And, ye men, yea, ye men of
courage, account it no disparagement thus
to weep. We read often of David’s tears,
which were no stain to his valor. That cloud
which hangs over us, which the frequent va-
pors of our sins have made, except it dissolve
and fall down again in these sweet showers of
godly tears, is certainly reserved to be the mat-
ter of a dreadful storm. , Beinstant, every one,
in secret, for the averting of this wrath, and
let us now again unite the cries of our hearts
for this purpose to our compassionate God, in
the name and mediation of his Son, the Lord
Jesus Christ.
JoB xxxiv. 31, 32.
Surely it is meet to be said unto God, I have borne
chastisement, I will not offend any more.
That which I see not, teach thou mé : if I have done
iniquity, I will do no more.
THE great sin, as well as the great misery
of man, is, the forgetting of God; and the
great end and use of his works and of his
word, is, to teach us the right remem-
brance and consideration of him in all es-
tates. These words do particularly instruct
us in the application of our thoughts tow-
ard him in the time of affliction. The short-
ness and the various signification of the
words used in the original, give occasion to
Some other readings and another sense of
them. But this we have in our translation,
being not only very profitable, but very con-
gruous, both to the words of the primitive
text, and to the contexture of the discourse, I
shall keep to it, without dividing your thoughts
by the mentioning of any other. Neither will
I lead you so far about, as to speak of the
great dispute of this book, and the question
about it which is held. He that speaks here,
though the youngest of the company, yet, as
a wise and calm-spirited man, closes all with
a discourse of excellent temper, and full of
grave, useful instructions, among which this
is one.
Surely it is meet to be said (or spoken) to
God..] This speaking to God, though it may
be vocal, yet it is not necessarily nor chiefly
so, but is always mainly, and may often be
only, mental : without this, the words of the
mouth, how well chosen and well expressed
soever they be, are to God of no account or
signification at all. But if the heart speak,
even when there is not a word in the mouth,
it is that he hearkens to, and regards that
speech, though made by a voice that none
hears but he, and in a language that none
understands but he.
But it is a rare, unfrequent thing, this com-
muning of the heart with God, speaking its
thoughts to him concerning itself, and con-
cerning him, and his dealings with it, and
the purposes and intentions it hath toward
him—which is the speech here recommend-
ed, and is that Divine exercise of meditation
and soliloquy of the soul with itself and with
God, hearkening what the Lord God speaks
to us within us, and our hearts echoing and
resounding his words (as Psalm xxvii. 8, 9),
and opening to him our thoughts of them and
of ourselves. Though they stand open, and
he sees them all, even when we tell him not
of them, yet, because, he loves us, he loves
to hear them of our own speaking : Let me
hear thy voice, for it is sweet ; as a father
delights in the little stammering, lisping lan-
guage of his beloved child. And if the re-
flex affection of children be in us, we shall
love also to speak with our Father, and to
Job xxxiv. 31, 32.] THE PATIENT AND DOCILE SUFFERER.
447
tell him all our mind, and to be often with
him in the entertainments of our secret
thoughts.
But the most of men are little within : ei-
ther they wear out their hours in vain dis-
course with others, or possibly vainer dis-
courses with themselves. Even those who
are not of the worst sort, and who, possibly,
have their times of secret prayer, yet do not
so delight to think of God, and to speak with
him, as they do to be conversant in other af.
fairs, and companies, and discourses, in which
there is a great deal of froth and emptiness.
Men think, by talking of many things, to be
refreshed; and yet, when they have done,
find that it is nothing, and that they had
much better have been alone, or have said
nothing. Our thoughts and speeches, in
most things, run to waste, yea, are defiled ;
as water spilt on the ground is both lost, and
can not be gathered up again, and is pollut-
ed, mingled with dust. But no word spoken
to God, from the serious sense of a holy
heart, is lost : he receives it, and returns it
into our bosom with advantage. A soul that
delights to speak to him, will find that he
also delights to speak to it. And this com-
munication, certainly, is the sweetest and
happiest choice; to speak little with men,
and much with God. One short word, such
as this here, spoken to God in a darted
thought, eases the heart more when it is af.
flicted, than the largest discourses and com-
plainings to the greatest and powerfullest of
men, or the kindest and most friendly. It
gives not only ease, but joy, to say to God, I
have sinned, yet I am thine ; or, as here, I
have borne chastisement, I will no more of.
fend. The time of affliction is peculiarly a
time of speaking to God; and such speech
as this is peculiarly befitting such a time.
And this is one great recommendation of af.
fliction, that it is a time of wiser and more
sober thoughts—a time of the returning of
the mind inward and upward. A high place,
fulness and pleasure, draw the mind more
outward. Great light and white colors dis-
sipate the sight of the eye, and the very
thoughts of the mind too; and men find that
the night is a fitter season for deep thoughts.
It is better, says Solomon, to go to the house
of mourning than to the house of feasting.
hose blacks made the mind more serious.
It is a rare thing to find much retirement un-
to God, much humility and brokenness of
spirit, true purity and spirituality of heart,
in the affluence and great prosperities of the
world. It is no easy thing to carry a very
full cup even, and to digest well the fatness
of a great estate and great place. They are
not to be envied who have them : even
though they be of the better sort of men, it
is a thousand to one but they shall be losers
by the gains and advancements of this world,
suffering proportionably great abatements of
their best advantages, by their prosperity.
The generality of men, while they are at
ease, do securely neglect God, and little mind
either to speak to him, or to hear him speak
to them. God complains thus of his own
people: I spoke to them in their prosperity,
and they would not hear. The noises of
coach-wheels, of their pleasures, and of their
great affairs, so fill their ears, that the still
voice wherein God is, can not be heard. I
will bring her into the wilderness, and there
I will speak to her heart, says God of his
church. There the heart is more at quiet to
hear God, and to speak to him, and is dis-
posed to speak in the style here prescribed,
humbly and repentingly.
I have borne chastisement.] The speaking
this unto God under affliction signifies, that
our affliction is from his hand; and to the
acknowledgment of this truth, the very nat-
ural consciences of men do incline them.
Though trouble be the general lot of man-
kind, yet it doth not come on him by an im-
providential fatality: though man is born to
trouble as the sparks fly upward, yet it comes
not out of the dust. Job v. 6,7. It is no less
true, and in itself no less clear, that all the
good we enjoy, and all the evil we suffer,
come from the same Hand ; but we are mat-
urally more sensible of evil than of good,
and therefore do more readily reflect upon
the original and causes of it. Our distresses
lead us to the notice of the righteous God in-
flicting them, and of our own unrighteous
ways procuring them, and provoking him so
to do; and therefore it is meet to speak in
this submissive, humble language to him. It
is by all means necessary to speak to him.
He is the party we have to deal withal, or to
speak to, even in those afflictions whereof
men are the intervenient visible causes. They
are, indeed, but instrumental causes, the rod
and staff in his hand who smites us ; there-
fore our business is with him, in whose Su-
preme Hand alone the mitigations and in-
creases, the continuance and the ending, of
our troubles lie. Who gave Jacob to the
spoil, and Israel to the robbers ? Did not
the Lord, against whom we have sinned £
Isa. xlii. 24. So, Lam. i. 14, The yoke of
my transgressions is bound on by his hand.
Therefore, it is altogether necessary in all
afflictions to speak to him. And as it is neces-
sary to speak to him, so it is meet to speak
thus to him, I have borne chastisement, I will
no more offend. These words have in them
the true composition of real repentance, hum-
ble submission and holy resolution. I have
borne chastisement—that is, I have justly
borne it, and do heartily submit to it; I bear
it justly, and take it well; Lord, I acquit
thee, and accuse myself. This language be-
comes the most innocent persons in the world
in their suffering. Job knew it well, and did
often acknowledge it in his preceding speech-
es. Though sometimes, in the heat of dis-
pute, and in opposition to the uncharitable
and unjust imputations of his friends, he
seems to overstrain the assertion of his own
448
[SER. II.
THE PATIENT AND DOCILE SUFFERER.
integrity (which Elihu here corrects), you
know he cries out, I have sinned against
thee: what shall I do unto thee, O thou pre-
server of men 2 Job vii. 20. And chap. ix.
30, If I wash myself with snow-water, and
make my hands never so clean, yet shalt thou
plunge me in the ditch, and mine own clothes
shall abhor me.
Wain, foolish persons fret and foam at the
miscarriage of a cause they apprehend to be
righteous; but this is a great vanity and in-
considerate temerity in not observing the great
and apparent unrighteousness in the persons
managing it. But though both the cause and
the persons were just to the greatest height
imaginable among men, yet still were it
meet to speak thus unto God in the lowest
acknowledgments and confessions, that righte-
ousness belongs unto him, and unto us shame
and confusion of face. So says the Church,
Lam. iii. The Lord is righteous, for I have
rebelled against his commandments. Though
affliction is not always designedly intended as
the chastisement of some particular sin, yet,
where sin is (and that is the case of all the
sons of Adam), affliction coming in, may safe-
ly be considered in its natural cognation and
alliance with sin, and so press forth humble
confessions of sin, and resolutions against it.
And thus in Lev. xxvi. 41, They shall accept
of the punishment of their iniquity ; shall
take it humbly and penitently, and kiss the
rod.
Oh, that there were such a heart in us!—
that, instead of empty words, that scatter
themselves in the wind, our many vain dis-
courses we hold one with another, concern-
ing our past and present sufferings, and fur-
ther fears, and disputing of many fruitless
and endless questions, we were more abun-
dantly turning our speech this way, in unto
God, and saying, We desire to give thee glo-
ry, and to take shame to ourselves, and to
bear our chastisement, and to offend no more;
to return each from his evil way; and to gain
this by the furnace, the purging away of our
dross—our many great iniquities—our oaths
and cursings, and lying—our deceit, and op-
pressions, and pride, and covetousness—our
base love of ourselves and hating one anoth-
er—that we may be delivered from the tyran-
ny of our own lusts and passions ; and, in
other things, let the Lord 'do with us as
seems good in his eyes. Oh, that we were
speaking to God in Ephraim's words, Jer.
xxxi. 18, 19, 20: Thou hast chastised me, and
I was chastised : Turn thou me, and I shall be
turned, &c. : words not unlike these would
stir his bowels, as there: as it is said, that
one string perfectly tuned to another, being
touched, the other stirs of itself. When a
stubborn child leaves struggling under the
rod, and turns to entreating, the father then
leaves off striking ; nothing overcomes him
but that. When a man says unto God, “Fa-
ther, I have provoked thee to this; but pardon,
and through thy grace I will do so no more ;
them the rod is thrown aside, and the Father
of mercies and his humbled child fall to mu-
tual tenderness and embraces.
What I see not, teach thou me.] The great
article of conversion is, the disengagement of
the heart from the love of sin. In that pos-
ture, as it actually forsakes whatsoever it per-
ceives to be amiss, so it stands in an absolute
readiness to return to every duty that yet lies
hidden, upon the first discovery. That is
here the genuine voice of a repentant sinner,
What I see not, teach thou me : if I have
done iniquity, I will do no more.
This is a very necessary supplication, even
for the most discerning and clearest-sighted
penitent, both in reference to the command-
ment and rule for discovering the general na-
ture and several kinds of sin, and withal for
the application of this general light to the
examination of a man's own heart and ways,
that so he may have a more exact and partic-
ular account of his own sins.
The former part of the petition is for the
knowledge of the law of God, as the rule by
which a man is to try and to judge himself.
The most knowing are not above the need
of this request; yea, I am persuaded, the
most knowing know best how much they
need it, and are most humbled in themselves
in the conscience of their ignorance and dark-
ness in divine things, and are most earnest
and pressing in this daily supplication for in-
creases of light and spiritual knowledge from
him who is the fountain of it: What I see not,
teach thou me. On the other side, the least
knowing are often the most confident that
they know all, and swelled with a conceited
sufficiency of their model and determination
of all things, both dogmatical and practical ;
and therefore are they the most imperious and
magisterial in their conclusions, and the most
impatient of contradiction, or even of the most
modest dissent.
The wisest and holiest persons speak al-
ways in the humblest and most depressing
style of their own knowledge, and that not
with an affectation of modesty, but under a
real sense of the thing as it is, and the sin-
cere account they give of it, and that com-
monly when they are declaring themselves
most solemnly, as in the sight of God, or
speaking in supplication to him with whom
they dare least of all dissemble. Whoso-
ever he was that spake those words, in the
thirtieth chapter of Proverbs, surely he was
a man of eminent wisdom and piety, and yet
he begins thus: Surely I am more brutish
than any man, and have not the understand-
ing of a man ; I have neither learned wis-
dom, nor have I the knowledge of the Holy.
And though he was so diligent a student, and
so great a proficient in the law of God, yet,
how importunate a petitioner is he for the
understanding of it, as if he knew nothing at
all ! Besides the like expressions in other
psalms, in that one psalm [the czix.], which,
although of such length, hath nothing but the
JoB xxxiv. 31, 32.]
. 449
THE PATIENT AND DOCILE SUFFERER.
breathing forth of his affection to the word
and law of God, how often doth David in it
reiterate that petition, Teach me thy statutes ?
—so often, that a carnal mind is tempted to
grow weary of it, as a mauseating tautology;
but he made it still new with the freshness
and vehemency of his affection : Make me to
understand the way of thy precepts—Give me
wnderstanding, and I shall keep thy law—and
open thou mine eyes, that I may see the won-
ders of thy law—unseal mine eyes, as if they
were still veiled and dark. These are the
earnest and nobly ambitious desires that daily
solicit holy hearts, and stir them up to solicit
the Teacher of hearts to be admitted more
into the secrets and recesses of divine knowl-
edge; not to those abysses that God intends
should be secret still, and from which he
hath barred out our curiosity, as the forbid-
den tree of knowledge, those secrets that be-
long to himself alone, and concern us not to
inquire after. And certainly, to be wading
in those deeps, is the way to be drowned in
them. The searcher % majesty shall be op-
pressed with glory. Yet there is in man a
perverse, preposterous desire to pore upon
such things as are on purpose hidden that we
should not inquire after them, and to seek af-
ter useless, empty speculations of them,
which is a luxury and intemperance of the
understanding, like unto that, and spring-
ing from that, which at first undid us in the
root. These are times full of those empty,
airy questions, and notions in which there is
no clearness nor certainty to be attained, and
if it were, yet it would serve to little or no
purpose, not making the man who thinks he
hath found them out, one jot the better or ho-
lier man than he was before, What avails it,
says a devout author, to dispute and discourse
high concerning the Trinity, and want humil-
ity, and so displease that Trinity ? The
light and knowledge suited according to the
intendment of this copy, is of nature, such as
purifies the heart and rectifies the life. What
I see not, teach thou me ; that is, of such
things as may serve this end, that if I have
done iniquity, I may do it no more. This is
Sound and solid knowledge, such a light as
inflames the heart with the love of God and
of the beauties of holiness, and still, as it
grows, makes those to grow likewise. Such
are still, we see, David's multiplied supplica-
tions in that crix. Psalm : not to know reserv-
ed and useless things, but, Hide not thy com-
mandments from me. Thy hands have made
me and fashioned me: now, what is it that
thy creature and workmanship begs of thee ?
What is that which will complete my being
and make me do honor to my Maker ? This
is it—Give me understanding, that I may
learn thy commandments.
You that would be successful supplicants in
this request, wean your hearts from that van-
ity of desire: such knowledge as is the cy-
ress-tree, fair and tall, but fruitless and sap-
ess. Apply all you know, to the purging
out of sin, and intend all the further knowl-
edge you desire, to that same end. Seek to
be acquainted with higher rules of mortifica-
tion, and self-denial, and charity, than as yet
you have either practised, or possibly so much
as thought on ; that by these, your affections
and actions may be advanced to greater de-
grees of purity, and conformity with the ho-
liness of God. And for this end, beg of him
to teach you what you see not in the exact-
ness of the law and rule; and withal (which
is the other thing in this word), that, what
you see not in the application of it and search
of yourself, he would likewise show you ; for
in that, we are commonly as undiscerning
and dimsighted as in the other. Even where
men have some notion of the rule and their
duty, yet they perceive not their own, even
their gross recessions and declinings from it.
Love is a blinding thing, and above all love,
self-love ; and every man is naturally his own
flatterer: he deals not faithfully and sincere-
ly with himself in the search of his own evils.
Now this we are to entreat of God, to be led
into ourselves, and to be applied to the work
of self-searching, by his own hand; not only
to have a right apprehension of the law giv-
en us, but a true sight of ourselves. Oh
how many hidden, undiscerned, yea, unsus-
pected impurities and follies are there in the
hearts of those who are the most diligent in
this inquiry, much more in the greater part,
even of such as can not absolutely be denied
the name of good men | Some honest inten-
tions and good desires there are in them ; but
they are slothful and unwilling to go into this
painful business of trying and judging them-
selves, and when they set to it, many secret
corners, and, in those, many latent corrup-
tions do escape their search. Cleanse me
from secret faults, says David ; that is, not
only from those hidden from men, but even
from myself, as is clearly his meaning, by the
words preceding. Who knows the errors of
his life 2 Therefore is it necessary that we
desire light of God. The spirit of a man is
the candle of the Lord, says Solomon, search-
ing the innermost parts of the belly; but it is
a candle unlighted, when he does not illumi-
nate it for that search. Oh what a deal of
vanity and love of this world, envy and secret
pride, lurks in many of our hearts, which we
do not at all perceive, till God causeth us to
see it, leading us in, as he did the prophet
Ezekiel in the vision, to see the idolatry of
the Jews in his very temple, by which they
had provoked him to forsake it, and go far
from his sanctuary; and having discovered
one parcel, leads him in farther, and makes
him enter through the wall, and adds often,
Son of man hast thou seen these ? I will
cause thee to see yet more abominations, and
get more abominations. Thus it is within
many of us who should be his temples, but
we have a multitude of images of jealousy,
one lying hid behind another, till he thus dis-
covers them to us. Oh, what need have we
57
#56
[SER. III.
THE DIVINE GLORY OF SION.
to entreat him thus, What I see not, teach
thou me !
Now, in both these, both in the knowledge
of our rule and of ourselves, though there may
be some useful subserviency of the ministry of
men, yet, the great Teacher of the true knowl-
edge of his law, and of himself, and of our-
selves, is God. Men may speak to the ear,
but his chair is in heaven who teaches hearts:
cathedram habet in caelo. Matchless Teacher!
who teacheth more in one hour than men
can do in a whole age, who can cure the in-
vincible unteachableness of the dullest heart,
give understanding to the simple, and open
the eyes of the blind / So then, would we be
made wise, wise for etermity, learned in real,
living divinity, let us sit down at his feet, and
make this our continual request, What I see
not, teach thou me 2
If I have done iniquity.] That is, any in-
iquity that I yet know not of, any hidden sin,
let me but once see it, and, I hope, thou shalt
see it no more within me; not willingly
lodged and entertained. This speaks an en-
tire, total giving up of all sin, and is a pro-
claiming of utter defiance and enmity against
it; casting out what is already found out,
without delay, and resolving that still in fur-
ther search, as it shall be more discovered,
it shall be forth with dislodged, without a
thought of sparing or partial indulgence to
anything that is sin, or that is like it, or that
may any way befriend it, or be an occasion
and incentive of it. This is that absolute re-
nouncing of sin, and surrender of the whole
soul and our whole selves to God, which who-
soever do not heartily consent to and resolve
on, their religion is in vain, and (which is
here the point) their affliction is in vain :
whatsoever, they have suffered, they have
gained nothing by all their sufferings, if their
hearts remain still self-willed, stubborn, un-
tamed, and unpliable, to God. And this
makes their miseries out of measure misera-
ble, and their sins out of measure sinful:
whereas, were it thus qualified, and had it
any operation this way toward the subjecting
of their hearts unto God, affliction were not
to be called misery, but would go under the
title of a blessedness: Blessed is the man
whom thou correctest and teachest him out of
thy law. That is suiting with this here desir-
ed, I have borne chastisement ; what I see not,
teach thou me , and if I have done iniquity,
I will do it no more. Oh were it thus with
us, my brethren, how might we rejoice, and
insert into our praises all that is come upon
us, if it had wrought or advanced any thing
of this kind within us, this blessed compli-
ance with the will of God: not entertaining
anything knowingly that displeases him ;
finding a pleasure in the denial and destruc-
tion of our own most beloved pleasures at
his appointment and for his sake. Whatso-
..ever is in us, and dearest to us, that would
offend us, that would draw us to offend him,
were it the right hand, let it be cut off ; or the
right eye, let it be plucked out ; or, to make
shorter work, let the whole man die at once,
crucified with Jesus, that we may be hence-
forth dead to sin, dead to the world, dead to
ourselves, and alive only to God.
SERMON III.
THE DIVINE GLORY OF SION.
THERE is no exercise so delightful to those
that are truly godly, as the solemn worship
of God, if they find his powerful and sensible
presence in it; and indeed there is nothing
On earth more like to heaven than that is.
But when he withdraws himself, and with-
holds the influence and breathings of his spir-
it in his service, then good souls find nothing
more liſeless and uncomfortable. But there
is this difference, even at such a time, be-
tween them and those that have no spiritual
life in them at all, that they find, and are sen-
sible of this difference; whereas the others
know not what it means. And for the most
part, the greatest number of those that meet to-
gether with a profession to worship God, yet
are such as do not understand this difference.
Custom and formality draw many to the ordi-
nary places of public worship, and fill too
much of the room ; and sometimes novelty
and curiosity, drawing to places not ordinary,
have a large share: but how few are there
that come on purpose to meet with God in
his worship, and to find his power in strength-
eming their weak faith, and weakening their
strong corruptions, affording them provision of
spiritual strength and comfort against times of
trial, and, in a word, advancing them some
steps forward in their journey toward heaven,
where happiness and perfection dwell ! Cer-
tainly, these sweet effects are to be found in
these ordinances, if we would look after them.
Let it grieve us then, that we have so often lost
our labor in the worship of God through our
own neglect, and entreat the Lord, that at
this time he would not send us away empty.
For how weak soever the means be, if he
put forth his strength, the work shall be done,
in some measure, to his glory and our edifi-
cation. Now that he may be pleased to do
so, to leave a blessing behind him, let us
pray, &c.
ISAIAH xxviii. 5, 6.
In that day shall the Lord of hosts be for a crown of
glory, and for a diadem of beauty unto the residue
of his people.
And for a spirit of judgment to him that sitteth in
judgment, and for strength to them that turn the
battle to the gate.
ALL the works of Divine Providence are
full of wisdom and justice, even every one
severally considered ; yet we observe them
best to be such, when we take notice of their
order and mutual aspect one to another,
whether in the succession of times, or such
passages as are contemporary and fall in to-
Is A. xxviii. 5, 6.]
45]
THE DIVINE GLORY OF SION.
gether at one and the same time. As, when
the Lord brings notable judgments upon the
proud workers of iniquity, and at the same
time confers special mercies on his own
people, who is there that may not perceive
justice and mercy illustrating and beautify-
ing orie another ? It is true, the full reward
and perfect rest of the godly is not here be-
low ; they would be sorry if it were: nor is
this the place of plenary punishment for the
ungodly ; men may look for a judgment too.
Yet, the Lord is pleased at sometimes to give
Some resemblances and pledges, as it were,
of that great and last judgment in remarkable
passages of justice and mercy, at one and the
same time; and such a time it is that the
prophet foretells in this his sermon, which
concerns the two sister kingdoms of Israel
and Judah. Having denounced a heavy ca-
lamity to come upon Israel, under the name
of Ephraim, he comforts those of Judah un-
der the name of the residue of his people.
They not being so grossly corrupted as the
others were, he stays them with this promise:
In that day, saith he, when the other shall
be overwhelmed, as with a deluge, the Lord
of hosts shall be for a crown of glory, and for
a diadem of beauty unto the residue of his
people.
The promise is made up of three benefits, yet
the three are but one ; or rather, one is all the
three to them: The Lord of hosts, it is he that
shall be their honor, wisdom, and strength ;
he shall be a crown, &c. But first, a word as
to the circumstance of time, In that day.
That sovereign Lord, who at first set up
the lights of heaven to distinguish times and
seasons by their constant motion, and like-
wise by his supreme providence ruling the
world, hath fixed the periods of states and
kingdoms, and decreed their revolutions, their
rising, ascending, and their height, with their
decline and setting, hath by a special provi-
dence determined those changes and vicissi-
tudes that befall his church. That which the
psalmist speaks, in his own particular, Psalm
xxxi. 15, holds of each believer, and of the
church which they make up in all ages and
places: I said, Thou art my God, my times
are in thy hand. A sure and steady hand in-
deed, and therefore he builds his confidence
upon it, ver, 13. They took counsel against
me, but I trusted in thee. And upon this, he
prays in faith, that the face of God may shine
upon him, and the wicked may be ashamed.
Thus, then as many of you as are looking
after a day of mercy to the church of God,
pray and believe upon this ground, That the
time of it is neither in the frail hands of those
that favor and seek it, nor in the hands of
those that oppose it, how strong and subtle
soever they be, but in HIs almighty hand,
who doth in heaven and earth what pleas-
eth, him. If he have said, Now, and here,
will I give a day of refreshment to my peo-
ple, who have long groaned for it, a day
of the purity and power of religion; if, I
say, this be his purpose, they must have
somewhat more than omnipotence, who can
hinder it. When his appointed time comes,
to make a day of deliverance dawn upon his
church, after their long night either of afflic-
tion or of defection, or both ; they who con-
trive against that day-spring, are as vain as
if they would sit down to plot how to hin-
der the sun from rising in the morning. And
they who let go their hopes of it, because of
great apparent difficulties that interpose be-
tween their eye and the accomplishment of
that work, are as weak as if they should ima-
gine, when mists and thick vapors appear
about the horizon in the morning, that these
could hinder the rising of the sun, which is so
far out of their reach, and comes forth as a
bridegroom, and rejoices as a mighty man to
run his race, says David. Those mists may
indeed hinder his clear appearance, and keep
it from the eye for a time ; but reason tells
us, even then, that they can not stop his
course. And faith assures us no less in the
other case, that no difficulties can hold back
God's day and work of mercy to his people.
But you will say, All the difficulty is, to know
whether the appointed time be near or not.
It is true, we have no particular prophecies
to assure us; but certainly, when God awakes
his children and makes them rise, this is a
probable sign that it is near day. I mean,
when he stirs them up to more than usual
hopes, and prayers, and endeavors, it is very
likely that he intends them some special
good. But yet more, when he himself is
arisen (as it pleaseth him to speak), that is,
when he is begun to appear, in a more than
ordinary manner of working by singular and
wonderful footsteps of providence, this is, no
doubt, a sign that he will go on to show re-
markable mercy to Sion, and that the time to
favor her, yea, the set time is come. Ps. cii. 13.
Howsoever then, let the wonderful work-
ings of the Lord move those of you that have
any power and opportunity, to be now (if
ever) active for the greatest good both of the
present age and of posterity. And you that
can be no other way useful, yet you shall be
no small helpers if you be much in prayer;
let both your hopes and your fears serve to
sharpen your prayers. Be not too much de-
jected with any discouragement, neither be
ye carnally lifted up with outward appear-
ances; for the heart of him that is lifted up,
is not upright in him, Hab. ii. 4; but live, as
the just do, by your faith. And if the defer-
ring of your hopes should sicken your hearts,
as Solomon speaks, yet, stay and comfort
them with the cordial of the promises. This
you are sure of you have God's own word
engaged for it, that in those latter days Baby-
lon shall be brought to the dust, and the true
church of Christ shall flourish and increase.
And this vision is for an appointed time (as
Habakkuk says of his); at the end it shałł
speak, and not lie ; though it tarry, wait for
it, it will surely come, it will not tarry,
452
[SER. III.
THE DIVINE GLORY OF SION.
In that day.] That is, in the day, of
Ephraim's or Israel’s calamity denounced in
the former verses; which, as most do con-
ceive, was when the Assyrian oppressed
them, and in the end led them captive, in
the reign of Hosea, as you have the history
of it, 2 Kings xvii., at which time Hezekiah
was king of Judah, as you find in the follow-
ing chapter: and in that wotable reformation
wrought by him, with those blessings that
followed upon it, is found the accomplish-
ment of this promise to Judah, In that day,
&c. The parallel of God’s different dealing
with these two kingdoms at the time there
specified (in that day), does afford divers les-
sons, which might be here not impertinently
taken notice of. Only this:
Though Judah also had its own corruptions
when Hezekiah came to the crown, yet it
pleased the Lord to spare them and work a
peaceable reformation, making Israel's pun-
1shment their warning. Truly, that nation
with whom the Lord deals thus graciously, is
vilely ungrateful if they observe it not with
much humility and thankfulness, and with
profit too. If the Lord should answer your
desires and hopes with a reformation in a
peaceable way, and should yet lengthen out
your long-continued peace, and should make
this little past shaking of it cause it to take
root the faster; if he should, I say, do this,
where would ye find fit praises for such a
wonder of mercy? especially considering, that
in the meanwhile he hath made other re-
formed churches fields of blood, and made,
as it were, the sound of their stripes preach
repentance to us. But certainly, if the hear-
ing the voice of the rod prevail not, we shall
feel the smart of it, as this people of Judah
did afterward, because they were not so wise
as to become wiser and better by Israel's fol-
ly and calamity. We are expecting great
things at our Lord's hands, and our provoca-
tions and sins against him are great ; yet
there is no one of them all puts us in so
much danger of disappointment, as impeni-
tence. Were there more repentance and per-
sonal reformation among us, we might take
it as a hopeful forerunner of that public ref-
ormation which so many seem now to desire.
The Lord of hosts.] This style of his, you
know, is frequent in the prophets, in their
predictions of mercy and judgment; intima-
ting both his greatness and majesty, and his
Supreme power for accomplishing his word.
No created power can resist him; yea, all
must serve him. The most excellent crea-
tures can have no greater honor: the great-
est are not exempted, nor the meanest exclu-
ded from serving him. In Acts xii. 23, you
find one of the noblest creatures, and a num-
ber of the vilest, made use of at the same
time in the same service. Because Herod did
accept of the sacrilege of the people, and
gave not back to this Lord of hosts his own
glory, the angel of the Lord smote him, and
the vermin devoured him. And in Egypt,
you know the employing of the destroyin
angel, and what variety of hosts this Lord o
hosts did employ to plague them. What
madness, then, is it to oppose and encounter
this great General —even in doubtful cases,
to run on blindly, without examining, lest
peradventure a man should be found a fighter
against God. And on the other side, it is
great weakness to admit any fear under his
banner. If a man could say, when he was
told of the multitude of the ships the enemy
had, Against how many do ye reckon me?
how much more justly may we reckon this
Lord of hosts, against multitudes of enemies,
how great soever ! They are to him as the
drop of a bucket, and the smallest dust of
the balance. It is ignorance and mean
thoughts of this mighty Lord, that make his
enemies so confident; and it is the same evil,
in some degree, or, at the best, forgetfulness
of his power, that causeth diffidence in his
followers. I, even I, am he that comforteth
jou : who art thou, that thou shouldst be
afraid of a man that shall die, and forgettest
the Lord, thy Maker. Isa. li. 12, 13. , Now
this same Lord of hosts, you know, is like-
wise called the God of peace : he is indeed,
et pace et bello insignis, splendid both in
peace and war. The blessing of peace, and
the success of war, are both from him ; and
to him alone is due the praise of both.
Shall be for a crown of glory..] He shall
dignify and adorn them by his special pres-
ence: to wit, in the purity of his ordinances
and religion among them ; the profession and
flourishing of that, shall be their special glory
and beauty. For, as the other two benefits
concern their civil good, justice flourishing
within, and wealth and opulency from with-
out, so, doubtless, this first, this glory and
beauty, is religion, as the chiefest of the three,
and the other two are its attendants. In Ps.
xxvi. 8, the sanctuary, the place of their sol-
emn worship, is calied the place where God's
honor dwelleth, or the tabernacle of his honor,
and, Psalm xcvi. 9, the glorious sanctuary, or
the beauty of holiness. And the ark of God,
you know, was called the glory. The glory
is departed from Israel (said the wife of Phin-
eas), for the ark of God is taken. 1 Samuel
iv. 21. Pure religion and a pure worship is
the glory of God among his people, and, con-
sequently, their glory. Now, referring this
prophecy to #º. time, the accomplish-
ment of it is evident, in that work of reforma-
tion whereof you have the full history, 2
Chron. xxix. 30, &c. e Լ
If it be thus, that the purity of religion and
worship is the crown and glory of a people;
and therefore, on the other side, that their
deepest stain of dishonor and vileness is the
vitiating of religion with human devices;
then, to contend for the preservation or the
reformation of it, is noble and worthy of a
Christian. It is for the crown of Jesus Christ,
which is likewise a crown of glory, and a
diadem of beauty to them, he being their head.
ISA. xxviii. 5, 6.]
453
THE DIVINE GLORY OF SION.
It is, indeed, the true glory both of kings and
their kingdoms. Labor, then, for constancy
in this work; let no man take your crown
from you. You know how busy the emissa-
ries of the church of Rome have been to take
it from us, or, at least, to pick the diamonds
out of it, and put in false, counterfeit ones in
their places. I mean, they stole away the
power of religion, and filled up the room with
shadows and fopperies of their own devising.
It is the vanity of that church to think they
adorn the worship of God when they dress it
up with splendor in her service, which, though
Some magnify it so much, yet may most truly
be called a glistering slavery and captivity.
Then is she truly free, and wears her crown,
when the ordinances of God are conformable
to his own appointment. It is vanity in man,
I say, when they dress it up with a multitude
of gaudy ceremonies, and make it the smallest
part of itself; whereas, indeed, its true glory
consists not in pomp, but in purity and sim-
plicity. In the twelfth chapter of the Apoca-
lypse, we find the church, under the name of
a woman, richly attired, indeed, but her or-
naments be all heavenly; the sun her clothing,
and her crown of twelve stars. Needs she,
then, borrow sublunary glory ! No, she treads
upon it: the moon is under her feet. There
is another woman, indeed, in that same book,
arrayed in purple and scarlet, decked with
gold and precious stones, and having a golden
cup in her hand, but that golden cup is full
of abominations and filthiness, and she her-
self the mother of abominations. Apoc. xvii.
4. The natural man judges according to his
reach ; but to a spiritual eye there is a most
genuine beauty in the service of God, and the
government of his house; and when they are
nearest to the rule, the word of God, then it
is that the Lord himself is the crown and dia-
dem of his church.
A crown of glory.] Again: we may con-
sider this personally, as belonging in partic-
ular to every believer. They are all made
kings and priests unto God the Father. Apoc.
i. 6. They are a chosen generation, a royal
priesthood, 1 Peter ii. 9, how despicable so-
ever to the world. This is their dignity : the
Lord is their crown and diadem. He subdues
heir lusts, and makes them kings over their
own affections, and more than conquerors
over all troubles and persecutions; whereas
carnal men are continually hurried, like slaves,
unto base employments, still kept toiling in
the ignoble service of their own lusts. They
think, indeed, it is their liberty; but that is a
baseness of spirit that complies so well with
so vile and servile a condition. And whereas
they judge the godly to be the refuse and
dross of the earth, and the proper objects of
contempt, this is because this their crown,
though most glorious, is invisible to the eye
of nature. The Lord is a crown. If they
knew what this is, they would see enough in
it to countervail their outward meanness and
the reproaches the world cast on them: as
the Apostle St. Peter hath it, 1 Peter iv. 14,
If ye be reproached for the name of Christ,
happy are ye; for the Spirit of glory and of
God resteth on you. He is their crown.
And observe, how this crown is opposed to
that blasted glory and fading crown of pride,
spoken of in the former verses. Wo to the
crown of pride, to the drunkards of Ephraim,
whose glorious beauty is a fading flower.
Who is there that sees not, in daily expe-
rience, the vanity and inconstancy of worldly
glory, and yet how few are there that wean
themselves from it, and learn to disdain it !
Still men dote upon that which is not, upon a
shadow, a nothing. But would you have a
glory that fadeth not, a garland that can not
wither, make the Lord your crown and your
glory ; and if he be so, glory in him, and in
nothing else. Let not the wise man glory in
his wisdom, neither let the mighty man glory
in his might : let not the rich man glory in
his riches; but let him that glorieth, glory in
this, that he understandeth and knoweth ME.
Jer. ix. 23, 24.
You that are noble, aspire to this crown, as
being so far above your perishing honors and
bounded powers. And you that are outward-
ly meaner and lower, see how little cause you
have to complain of your condition, seeing
you are not debarred from this best and great-
est honor. And, that you may discern aright
what it is, know that it consists in the reno-
Vation of God's image within you, which is
in holiness and righteousness: so the Lord
becomes your crown in the kingdom of grace.
And by this you may discover whether or no
you have attained it: if you can yet delight
to wallow in the puddle and pleasures of sin,
you are far from this royal condition; but if
you find your soul possessed with the love of
holiness, and that you are trampling upon
profane delights, this may persuade you that
God hath enabled you, and crowned you with
his grace, and will crown you with his glory.
Again, try it by this ; if the Lord is become
your crown and your glory, you will glory in
him, and in nothing else. Though you be
wise, you will not glory in your wisdom, nor
in strength, nor in riches, nor in honors,
though you had them all ; but if you glory,
you will glory in the Lord. And withal,
your highest joy will be to see the advance-
ment of his glory, and, if you can, to be any
way serviceable to the advancing of it.
And for a spirit of judgment.] Both to
those that sit in judgment, and to the people.
For justice is the strongest base and establish-
ment of authority. And withal, the influence
of it is most sweet and comfortable to those
who are under authority; and where it is
wanting, that order and relation of superiors
and inferiors, which God hath appointed in
the societies of men for their good, tends ex-
ceeedingly to the damage of both. And there-
fore, where God intendeth, to continue the
peace and welfare of a people, he is liberal in
pouring out much of this spirit of judgment
454
[SER. IV.
CHRIST THE LIGHT AND
on those who sit in judgment. On the con-
trary, it is for a heavy punishment, when he
withdraws his Spirit from rulers, and leaves
them wholly to the corruption and vanity of
their own spirits.
To him that sitteth in judgment. That is,
to all that are in places of authority and judi-
cature, from the Supreme to the lowest ma-
gistrate; for this concerns them all. For they
be all raised in their subordination, and sev-
eral places above the people, for the benefit
and good of the people; as the stars, that be
set so high, yet are placed there to be useful
and beneficial to the inferior world.
Now this spirit of judgment comprehends
in it both due wisdom and prudence, for the
trial and right judging of affairs, and for the
discerning between sound and perverse coun-
sel ; and, withal, a judgment practically
good, that can not be biased from the straight
line of equity and justice by any sinister re-
spect.
Now, seeing the spirit of judgment is from
the Lord, yea, he is this spirit, it ought to
persuade those that sit in judgment, to en-
treat and pray for this, and to depend upon it,
and beware of self-confidence. Trust in the
Lord, Saith Solomon, and lean not to thine
own understanding : for if you do, it will
prove but a broken reed. And as they that sit
in judgment should entreat his Spirit by pray-
er, so, generally, all must share with them in
this duty, and make supplication for all that
are in authority over them, especially in ex-
traordinary times. Truly we have matter
of thankfulness, that the Lord hath in some
measure inclined the royal heart of our sov-
ereign to the desires of his people; and we
ought still to pray that the Lord would give
the king his judgments ; and then, as the
psalmist adds, The mountains shall bring
peace to the people, and the little hills, by
righteousness. Psalm lxii. 3. And, for this
end, let all who wish the public, yea, their
own good, pray for abundance of this spirit
of judgment to be conferred on them. Your
eyes and expectations are upon them. If you
would enjoy the lamp, you must pour in oil.
This spirit, indeed, you can not pour upon
them, but if you pour out many prayers, you
may draw it from above: he will give it, who
here promises to be a spirit of judgment.
And for strength. Observe, the way to be
powerful and successful against foreign ene-
mies, is, to have religion and justice flourish-
ing at home. And truly, if it please our God
to answer the desires of his people at this
time, it may so unite the affection and strength
of the two kingdoms (the Lord of hosts being
their strength), as to make them a terror to
their enemies; whereas they were become a
scorn and derision to them. For your partic-
ular, labor to make the Lord your glory, to
have Christ made unto you, as the apostle
speaks, both wisdom, and righteousness, and
sanctification, which are the glory and beauty
of the soul, and redemption from spiritual en-
emies. Draw strength from him to fight and
prevail against them, till, after the short com-
bat of this life, you obtain the crown, and
dwell in his presence, where you shall fear
no more assaults, neither of sin nor of afflic-
tion, but shall be for ever happy in the bles-
sed vision of his face. To him be glory.
Amen.
SERMION IV.
CHRIST THE LIGHT AND LUSTRE OF THE CHURCH.
ExTERNAL worship doth openly acknowl-
edge a Deity, but want of inward sense in
worship secretly denieth it: the fool hath
said in his heart, There is no God. It is
strange to hear so much noise of religion in
the world, and to find so little piety. To pre-
sent the living God with a carcass of lifeless
worship, is to pay him with shells of ser-
vices, and so to mock him. And it is a more
admirable long-suffering in him to defer the
punishment of such devotion, than of all the
other sins in the world. The Egyptian tem-
ples were rich and stately fabrics: a stranger
who had looked upon them without, would
have imagined some great deity within ; but
if they entered (as Lucian says, laughing at
them), nothing was to be seen, but only some
ape, or cat, or pied bull, or some other fine
god like those. To behold our fair sem-
blance of religion who frequent this house, it
would appear that we were all the temples
of the Holy Ghost; but whoso could look
within us, would find in many of our hearts,
lust, pride, avarice, or some such like secret
vice adored as a god. And these are they
which, while our bodies sit here, do alienate
our souls from the service of the Eternal God,
so that we are either altogether senseless and
dead before him, or, if any fit of spiritual mo-
tion rise within us, we find it here, and here
we leave it, as if it were sacrilege to take it
home with us. But did once that Spirit of
grace breathe savingly upon our souls, we
should straight renounce and abhor those base
idols, and then all the current of our affection
would run more in this channel: our services
would then be spiritual, and it would be our
heaven upon earth, to view God in his sanc-
tuary. And the obtaining of the change, is,
or should be, the main end of this our meet-
ing ; and, that it may be the happy effect of
it, our recourse must be to the throne of grace
by humble prayer, in the name of our Media-
tor, Jesus Christ, the righteous.
ISAIAH lx. 1.
Arise, shine, for thy light is come, and the glory of
the Lord is risen upon thee.
ADMIRABLE is, the worth and depth of Di-
vine providence . This, either we know not,
or at least seldom remember. While we for-
ISA. lx. 1.]
455
LUSTRE OF THE CHURCH.
get the wonders of providence, we direct our
thoughts to baser objects, and think not on
it; and while we forget the depth of provi-
dence (if at any time we look toward it), we
judge rashly and think amiss of it. If this
be true of that general providence whereby
God rules the world, it is more true of his
special providence toward his church. This
is both the most excellent piece of it, and
therefore best worth the reading, and also
the hardest piece, and therefore it requires
Sobriety in judging : above all other things,
he that suddenly judges in this, makes haste
to err. To have a right view of it, it must
be taken altogether, and not by parcels. Pie-
ces of rarest artifice, while they are a ma-
king, seem little worth, especially to an un-
skilful eye, which, being completed, com-
mand admiration. Peter Martyr says well,
De operibus Dei, antequam actum, non ext
judicandam : There is no judging of the
works of God, before they are finished. There
is a time when the daughters of Sion em-
&race the dunghill and sit desolate in the
streets, as Jeremiah hath it in his Lamenta-
tions (iv. 5), and at that same time the voice
of Babylon is, I sit as a queen and shall see
no sorrow. Apoc. xviii. 7 ; Isa. xlvii. 7. All
is out of order here. But if we stay awhile,
we shall see Sion and Babylon appointed to
change seats, by the great Master of the
world: Come down, says he, Daughter of
Babylon, and sit in the dust. Isa. xlvii. 1.
And here, to Sion, Arise, shine, for thy light
is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen
wpon thee. . It is an entire catastrophe; both
parties find a notable alteration together.
That same hand that exalts the one, ruins
the other. When the sun rises upon the
church, her antipodes must needs be covered
with darkness: as we find it in the next
verse to the text: Darkness shall cover the
earth, and gross darkness the people ; but the
Lord shall arise upon thee, and his glory shall
be seen upon thee.
The prophet, elevated by the Spirit of God
to a view of after ages as clear as if they
were present, seems here to find his people sit-
ting under the dark mantle of a sad and tedious
night, and having long expected the sun's re-
turn in vain, before its time, they give over
expectation when it is near them, and des-
perately fold themselves to lie perpetually in
the dark. Now the prophet, standing as it
were, awake upon some mountain, perceives
the day approaching, and the golden chari-
ots of the morning of deliverance hasting
forward, and seems to come speedily with
this glad news to a captive people, and
sounds this trumpet in their ears, Arise, shine,
for thy light is come. The very manner of
expression is sudden and rousing, without a
copulative; not, arise and shine, but, Arise,
shine, &c.
The words have in them a clear stamp of
relation to a low posture and obscure condi-
tion: they suppose a people lying or sitting
without light. Deep distress is that dark foil
that best sets off the lustre of marvellous de-
liverances; and among many other reasons
of the church's vicissitudes, why may not
this be one 2 The Lord is more illustrious
in the world by that deep wisdom and great
power that shines when he raises and re-
stores her from desperate afflictions, than if
he had still preserved her in constant ease.
He seems sometimes careless of her condi-
tion, and regardless of her groans; but even
then, is he waiting the most fit time to be
gracious, as our prophet speaks. And when
it is time, out of the basest estate he brings
her forth more fresh, strong, and beautiful,
than before. Though you have lain among
the pots, yet ye shall be as the wings of a
dove covered with silver, and her feathers
with yellow gold. Psalm lxviii. 13. Do with
the church what you will, she shall come
through, and that with advantage. Mergas
profundo, pulchrior eacilit, as one says of
Rome. Keep the church seventy years cap-
tive, yet, after that, she shall arise and shine
more glorious than ever. º
But surely, the strain of this evangelic
prophecy rises higher than any temporal de-
liverance. Therefore we must rise to some
more spiritual sense of it, not excluding the
former. And that which some call divers
senses of the same scripture, is, indeed, but
divers parts of one full sense. . This prophe-
cy is, out of question, a most rich description
of the kingdom of Christ under the gospel.
And in this sense, this invitation to arise and
shine is mainly addressed to the mystical Je-
rusalem, yet not without some privilege to
the literal Jerusalem beyond other people.
They are first invited to arise and shine, be-
cause the sun arose first in their horizon.
Christ came first of the Jews, and came first
to them, The Redeemer shall come to Zion,
says our prophet, in the former chapter. But
miserable Jerusalem knew not the day of her
visitation, nor the things that concerned her
peace, and therefore are they now hid from
her eyes. She delighted to deceive herself
with fancies of I know not what imaginary
grandeur and outward glory, to which the
promised Messiah should exalt her, and did,
in that kind particularly, abuse this very
prophecy; so doting upon a sense grossly lit-
eral, she forfeited the enjoyment of those
spiritual blessings that are here described.
But undoubtedly, that people of the Jews
shall once more be commanded to arise and
shine, and their return shall be the riches of
the Gentiles; and that shall be a more glori-
ous time than ever the church of God did
yet behold. Nor is there any inconvenience,
if we think that the high expressions of this
prophecy have some spiritual reference to
that time, since the great doctor of the Gen-
tiles applies some words of the former chap-
ter to that purpose, Rom. xi. 29. They for-
get a main point of the church's glory, who
pray not daily for the conversion of the Jews.
456
|SER. IV.
CHRIST THE LIGHT AND
But to pass that, and insist on the spiritual
sense of these words, as directed to the whole
church of Christ, they contain a powerful ex-
citement to a twofold act, enforced (as I con-
ceive), by one reason under a twofold expres-
sion, neither of them superfluous, but each
giving light to the other, and suiting very
aptly with the two words of command: Arise,
for the glory of the Lord is risen, and shine,
for thy light is come.
I will not now subdivide these parts again,
and cut them smaller, but will rather unite
them again into this one proposition: The
coming and presence of Christ engages all to
whom he comes, to arise and shine. In this
proposition may be considered, the nature of
the duties, the universality of the subject, and
the force of the reason.
I. The nature of the duties—what it is to
arise and shine. Arising hath reference either
to a fall, or to some contrary posture of sitting
or lying, or to one of those two conditions
which are so like One another, sleep, or death;
and to all these, spiritually understood, may
it here be referred. This is the voice of the
gospel to the sons of Adam, arise ; for in him
they all fell. The first sin of that first man
was the great fall of mankind: it could not
but undo us, it was from so high a station.
Our daily sins are our daily falls, and they are
the fruits of that great one. Thou hast fallen
by thine iniquity, says the Lord to his people,
Hos.. xiv. 1. As for those postures of sitting
and lying, the Scripture makes use of them
both to signify the state of sin. Says not St.
John, The world lies in wickedness? 1 John
V. 19. Are not the people said to sit in dark-
ness, mentioned Matt. iv. 16 2 . Which is di-
rectly opposite to arise and shine. In the
darkness of Egypt, it is said, the people sat
still ; none arose from their places. In the
gross mist of corrupt nature, man can not
bestir himself to any spiritual action; but when
this light is come, then he may, and should
arl Se.
Now for sleep and death, sin is most fre-
quently represented in holy writ under their
black vizors. To ſorbear citing places where
they are severally so used, we shall find them
jointly in one, Ephes. v. 14: Arise, thou that
sleepest, and stand up from the dead , which
place seems to have special allusion to this
very text.
The impenitent sinner is as one buried in
sleep : his soul is in darkness, fit for sleep,
and loves to be so. That he may sleep the
sounder, he shuts all the passages of light, as
enemies to his rest, and so, by close windows
and curtains, makes an artificial night to
himself within : not a beam appears there,
though without the clear day of the gospel
shines round about him. The senses of his
soul, as we may call them, are all bound up,
and are not eatercised to discern good and
evil, as the apostle speaks, Heb. v. 14. And
his leading faculty, his understanding, is sur-
charged with sleepy vapors, that arise inces-
santly from the inferior part of his soul, his
perverse affections. , Nor hath his mind any
other exercise, in his sleepy condition, than
the vain business of dreaming. His most re-
fined and wisest thoughts are but mere extra-
vagancies.from man's due end, and his great-
est contentments nothing but golden dreams.
Yet he is serious in them, and no wonder;
for who can discern the folly of his own dream
till he is awake 2 He that dreams he eateth,
when he awakes, finds his soul empty, and not
till then. Isa. xxix. 8. Now, while he thus
sleeps, his great business lies by ; yet spends
he his hand-breadth of time as fast, while he
is fast asleep, as if he were in continual em-
ployment. Judge, then, if it be not needful
to bid this man arise.
Lastly, this voice may import, that man is
spiritually dead. God is the life of the soul,
as it is of the body : while he dwells there, it
is both comely and active ; but once destitute
of his presence, it becomes a carcass, where,
besides privation of life and motion, there is
a positive filthiness, a putrefaction in the soul,
unspeakably worse than that of dead bodies.
Corruptio optimi pessima. And as dead bodies
are removed from the sight of men, dead souls
are cast out from the favorable sight of God,
till Christ’s saying, Arise, revives them. The
ministers of the word are appointed to cry,
Arise, indifferently to all that hear them ; and
Christ hath reserved this privilege and liber-
ty, to join his effective voice when and to
whom he pleases. A carnal man may show
his teeth at this ; but who is he that can, by
any solid reason, charge absurdity upon this
way of dispensing outward and inward voca-
tion ? I will nothere mention their idle cavils.
The Scripture is undeniably clear in this, that
man is naturally dead in sin. The gospel bids
him arise, and it is Christ that is his life, and
that raises him.
Thus we see, in some measure, what it is
for men to arise. Now being risen, they must
shine, and that two ways; jointly and public-
ly, as they make up visible churches, and
likewise personally, in their particular con-
versation. First, then, what is the shining
of the true church 2 Doth not a church, then,
shine, when church service is raised from a
decent and primitive simplicity, and decorated
with pompous ceremonies, with rich furniture
and gaudy vestments 2 Is not the church,
then, beautiful ? Yes, indeed ; but all the
question is, whether this be the proper, genuine
beauty or not ; whether this be not strange
fire, as the fire that Aaron's sons used, which
became vain, and was taken as strange fire.
Methinks it can not be better decided than to
refer it to St. John, in his book of the Revela-.
tions. We find there the descriptions of two
several women, the one riding in state, arrayed
in purple, decked with gold, and precious
stones, and pearl, ch. xvii.; the other, ch. xii.,
in rich attire too, but of another kind, clothed
with the sun, and a crown of twelve stars on
her head. The other's decorament was all
ISA. lx. 1.]
457
LUSTRE OF THE CHURCH.
earthly, this woman's is all celestial. What
need has she to borrow light and beauty from
precious stones, who is clothed with the sun,
and crowned with stars ? She wears no sub-
lunary ornaments, but, which is more noble,
she treads upon them ; the moon is under her
feet. Now, if you know (as you do all,
without doubt), which of these two is the
spouse of Christ, you can easily resolve the
question. The truth is, those things seem to
deck religion, but they undo it. Observe
where they are most used, and we shall find
little or no substance of devotion under them;
as we see in that apostate church of Rome.
This painting is dishonorable for Christ's
spouse, and besides, it spoils her natural com-
plexion. The superstitious use of torches and
lights in the church by day, is a kind of
shining, but surely not that which is com-
manded here. No ; it is an affront done both
to the sun in the heaven, and to the Sun of
Righteousness in the church.
What is meant, then, when the church is
commanded to shine, or be enlightened 2
These two readings give the entire sense of
the word ; for, first, having no light of her-
self, she must receive light, and then show it ;
first, be enlightened, and then shine. She is
enlightened by Christ, the Sun of righteous-
mess, shining in the sphere of the gospel.
This is that light that comes to her, and the
glory of the Lord that arises upon her. Hence
she receives her laws and forms of government,
and her shining is, briefly, the pure exercise
of those and conformity to them.
And the personal shining of the several
members of a church is, a comely congruity
with pure worship and discipline; and it is
that which now is most needful to be urged.
Every Christian soul is personally engaged
first to be enlightened, and then to shine; and
we must draw our light for ourselves from
that same source that furnishes the church
with her public light. There is a word in
the civil law, Uror fulget radiis mariti:
The wife shines by the rays of her husband's
light. Now every faithful soul is espoused to
Christ, and therefore may well shine, seeing
the Sun himself is their husband. He adorns
them with a double beauty of justification
and sanctification : by that they shine more
especially to God, by this to men. And may
not these two be signified by a double char-
acter given to the spouse in Cant. vi. 20 ?
She is fair as the moon, and clear as the sun.
The lesser light is that of sanctification, fair
as the moon ; that of justification the greater,
by which she is as clear as the sun. The sun
is perfectly luminous, but the moon is but
half enlightened: so, the believer is perfectly
justified, but sanctified only in part : his one
half, his flesh, is dark ; and as the partial il-
lumination is the reason of so many changes
in the moon, to which changes the sun is not
subject at all, so the imperfection of a Chris-
tian's holiness is the cause of so many wax-
ings and wanings, and of the great inequali-
ty in his performances, whereas in the mean-
while his justification remains constantly like
itself. This is imputed, that inherent. The
light of sanctification must begin in the un-
derstanding, and thence be transfused to the
affections, the inferior parts of the soul, and
thence break forth and shine into action.
This is then the nature of the duties, Arise
and shine.
II. The universality of the subject, which
was the second head, is this, that every man
that knows Christ, is here engaged to shine
too. Neither grandeur exempts from the
duty of shining, nor doth meanness exclude
from the privilege of shining. Men of low
condition in this world need not despair of it,
for it is a spiritual act; great men need not
despise it, for it is a noble act, to shine by
Christ's light. In the third verse of this chap-
ter it is said to the church, Kings shall come
to the brightness of thy rising. Towhat end,
but to partake of her light and shine with
her ? And indeed, the regal attire of Christ's
righteousness, and the white robes of holi-
ness, will exceedingly well become kings and
princes. Give the king thy judgments, O
Lord, and thy righteousness to the king's
SO72.
III. The third and last thing propounded
was the force of the reason ; that Christ’s
presence engages to arise and shine. Where-
in it is supposed that Christ, declared in the
gospel, is the light which is said here to
come, and the glory of the Lord which is said
to be risen ; so that now it should be more
amply cleared, how Christ is light and the
glory of the Lord, and what his coming and
rising is. But of these afterward. I shall
close now with a word of exhortation.
Arise, then, for the glory of the Lord is
risen. The day of the gospel is too precious
that any of it should be spent in sleep, or idle-
ness, or worthless business. Worthless busi-
ness detains many of us. Arise, immortal
souls, from turmoiling in the dust, and work-
ing in the clay like Egyptian captives. Ad-
dress yourselves to more noble work. There
is a Redeemer come, who will pay your ran-
som, and rescue you from such vile service,
for more excellent employment. It is strange
how the souls of Christians can so much for-
get their first original from heaven, and their
new hopes of returning thither, and the rich
price of their redemption, and, forgetting all
these, dwell so low, and dote so much upon
trifles. . How is it that they hear not their
well-beloved's voice crying, Arise, my love,
my fair one, and come away 2 Though the
eyes of true believers are so enlightened, that
they shall not sleep unto death, yet their
spirits are often seized with a kind of drowsi-
ness and slumber, and sometimes even when
they should be of most activity. The time
of Christ's check to his three disciples made
it very sharp, though the words are mild:
What I could you not watch with me one hour?
Shake off, believing souls, that heavy humor.
58
458
[SER. IV.
CHRIST THE LIGHT AND
Arise, and satiate the eye of faith with the
contemplation of Christ's beauty, and follow
after him, till you attain the place of full en-
joyment. And you others who never yet saw
him, arise, and admire his matchless excel-
lency. The things you esteem great, appear
so, but through ignorance of his greatness.
His brightness, if you saw it, would obscure
to you the greatest splendor of the world, as
all those stars that go never down upon us,
yet they are swallowed up in the surpassing
light of the sun when it arises. Stand up
from the dead, and he shall give you light.
Arise and work while it is day, for the night
shall come wherein none can work, says our
Savior himself. Happy are they who rise
early in the morning of their youth ; for the
day of life is very short, and the art of Chris-
tianity long and difficult. Is it not a grievous
thing, that men never consider why they
came into the world, till they be upon the
point of going out again, nor think how to
live, till they be summoned to die? But most
of all unhappy, he who never wakens out of
that pleasing dream of false happiness, till he
falls into eternal misery. Arise, then, betimes,
and prevent that sad awakening.
And being risen, put on your beautiful gar-
ments. Isaiah liii. 1. Draw toward you with
the hand of faith the rich mantle of Christ's
righteousness. It is time to awake, says the
apostle, and presently after, Put ye on the
Lord Jesus Christ. Rom. xiii. 11, 14. And it
is a wonder how a sinner can rest, while he
is out of this garment; for there is no other in
heaven nor on earth, can make him shine to
God, and so shelter him from the stroke of
justice. Put him on, then, and so shine :
being thus clothed, thou shalt shine in justifi-
cation, and likewise in sanctity. What a
privilege is it, to be like God . A sanctified
conscience, what can be said against it 2 And
first have an enlightened understanding, for
that is the proper seat of light. That igno-
rant zeal which Rome commends, exposes re-
ligion to scorn and contempt. Heat without
light, is the character of the fire of hell. I
know, all are not tied to a like degree of
knowledge, but certainly, all are obliged to
have a competency, and diligence for in-
crease. Aspire, then, to be intelligent Chris-
tians, and to know well what you believe.
Let your minds be filled with knowledge, as
the apostle speaks. But let it not stop there ;
it must have influence into the will. Lua est
vehiculum caloris : True light conveys heat.
All the knowledge that the natural man hath
of Christ, not warming his affection to Christ,
is but ignis fatuus, a vain light: it shall never
lead him to happiness. Saving light pro-
duces love, and by that acts. Faith works by
love, says the apostle. That breaks forth and
shines in the life, in godliness, righteousness,
and sobriety. Shine, then, in all these ; first,
in piety toward God, for this is the reflection
of those rays of light back toward their source,
and this will command the other two. No
man that shines in godliness will wallow in
injustice and intemperance. Guile and wrong
can not endure the light: they that are unjust
can not shine. And let them never offer to
shine among Christians, who are not sober,
but stained with riot and uncleanness. These
foul enormities lay waste the conscience, and
put out the light. How can any seeds of grace
subsist undrowned, that are exposed to a daily
deluge of cups ? How can that pure Spirit
that chose the likeness of a chaste dove, dwell
and give light in that soul which is a nest of
impure and filthy lusts 3 No ; there can be
no fellowship between this celestial light,
whereby we should shine, and those infernal
workings of darkness. Let profane men hold
it a chief strain of wit, to scoff at purity, but
you who pretend heavenward in good earnest,
and mean to shine in glory, shine here in ho-
liness; For without holiness no man shall see
God. And do it with these qualifications:
(1) Constantly—in every estate. Let not
this Divine light go out, neither by day in
prosperity, nor by night in adversity. In ev-
ery place. Do not shine clear, and be dark
in your chamber: they that do thus, have their
reward. That is a sad word, if rightly under-
stood. Beware of hypocrisy. (2) Shine pro-
gressively, gaining still more and more victo-
ry over darkness, till you attain unmixed and
perfect light. The way of the just, says Sol-
omon, is like a shining light, that shineth
more and more unto the perfect day. Prov. iv.
18. (3.) Shine humbly, to his glory whose
light you borrow ; not to show forth your own
excellencies, but his, who hath called you
from darkness to his marvellous light. 1 Pet,
ii. 9. If we be children of light, our bright-
ness must praise the Father of lights. Let
$/our light so shine before men, that they, see-
ing your good works (not yourselves, if you
can be hid; as the sun affords its light, and
will scarce suffer us to look upon itself) may
glorify (not you, but) your heavenly Father.
Matt. v. 6. To conclude,
• The pure light of the church is revived, and
the glory of the Lord is risen upon you, and
upon this glory there shall be a defence. If
God be your glory in the midst of you, he will
be likewise a wall of fire round about you.
All the danger is, if we fall short in the duty
of shining. But as you desire that this glory
should abide and dwell among you, let all es-
tates of men provoke one another to shine
bright in holiness. You who either by birth
or office are in eminent stations, know that
you were set there to be eminent and exem-
plary in shining, as stars of more notable
magnitude. You who are ministers of this
light, know that you are the light of the
world ; and if the very light become darkness,
how great will that darkness be You that
are of a lower order, know that you must
shine too; for it is a common duty. There is
a certain company of small stars in the fir-
mament, which, though they can not be each
one severally seen, yet, being many, their
ISA. lx. 1.]
459
LUSTRE OF THE CHURCH.
united light makes a conspicuous brightness
in the heavens, which is called the milky
way: so, though the shining of every private
Christian is not so much severally remarka-
ble, yet the concourse and meeting of their
light together will make a bright path of ho-
liness shine in the church.
Now to the end we may each one shine in
our measure, we must learn to turn ourselves
often toward him from whom our light is de-
rived. Conversing with him, will make us
more and more like him. There is a secret
unknown virtue for this purpose in secret
prayer and meditation. Were we more in
the mount with God, our faces would shine
more with men. Let us then rescue from
the world all the time we can, to resort fre-
quently thither, till such time as the soul,
which is now often pulled down again by
the flesh, shall let that mantle fall and come
down no more, but shine there without spot,
and be for ever satisfied with her Maker's
image.
SERMION V.
CHRIST THE LIGHT AND L'USTRE OF THE CHURCH.
ART imitates nature; and the nearer it
comes to nature in its effects, it is the more
excellent. Grace is the new nature of a Chris-
tian, and hypocrisy that art which counter-
feits it; and the more exquisite it is in imita-
tion, it is the more plausible to men, but the
more abominable to God. It may frame a
spiritual man in image so to the life, that not
only others, but even the hypocrite himself
may admire it, and favoring his own artifice,
may be deceived so far, as to say, and to
think, it lives, and fall in love with it; but he
is no less abhorred by the Searcher of hearts,
than pleasing to himself. Surely, this mis-
chief of hypocrisy can never be enough in-
veighed against. When religion is in request,
it is the chief malady of the church, and num-
bers die of it; though, because it is a subtle
and inward evil, it be little perceived. It is
to be feared there are many sick of it, who
look well and comely in God's outward wor-
ship, and they may pass well in good weath-
er, in times of peace, but days of adversity
are days of trial. The prosperous estate of
the church makes hypocrites, and her distress
discovers them. But if they escape such trial,
there is one inevitable day coming, wherein
all secret things shall be made manifest. Men
shall be turned inside out: and among all sin-
ners that shall then be brought before that
judgment-seat, the deformedest sight shall be
an unmasked hypocrite, and the heaviest sen-
tence shall be his portion.
Oh! that the consideration of this would
scare us out of that false disguise in time, and
s ‘ws all upon the study of sincerity! Precious
is that grace in God's esteem : a little of it will
weigh down mountains of formal religion, in
the balance of the sanctuary. Which of us
have not now brought hypocrisy, more or less,
into the house of God? Oh, that it were not
with intention to nourish it, but with desire
to be here cured of it! For he alone who
hates it so much, can cure it; he alone can
confer upon us that sincerity wherein he
mainly delights. If we have a mind, indeed,
to be endued with it, it is nowhere else to be
had : we must entreat it of God by humble
prayer, in the name of his well-beloved Son,
by the assistance of his Holy Spirit.
ISA1AH lx. 1.
Arise, shine, for thy light is come, and the glory of
the Lord is risen upon thee.
Truly, light is sweet, and it is a pleasing
thing to behold the sun, says the preacher,
Eccl. xi. 7. But the interchange of night with
day adds to its beauty, and the longest night
makes day the welcomest; as that people well
know, whose situation in the world gives
them a five or six months' night all of one
piece. It is reported of some of them, that
when they conceive their night draws toward
an end, they put on their richest apparel, and
climb up to the highest mountains, with emu-
lation who shall first discover the returning
light; which, so soon as it appears, they
salute with acclamations of joy, and welcome
it with solemn feasting, and all other testi-
monies of exceeding gladness. But such is
the lethargy of sinful man, that he stirs not
to meet his spiritual light; and, which is
worse, when it comes upon him, it finds him
in love with darkness. Instead of his shouts
of joy for this light, many a cry must be
sounded in his ears, to awaken him ; and it is
well, too, if at length he hear and obey this
voice, Arise, shine, for thy light is come. It
is clear that the words contain a command, and
the reason of it: the command to a twofold
act; the reason under two expressions, pro-
portionately different. Good reason the church
should arise, when the Lord’s glory is risen
wpon her ; and it is very congruous she should
be enlightened and shine, when her light is
come. Of those two acts, or duties, somewhat
was formerly spoken ; and the reason likewise
was made use of so far as relative to those
duties, and tending to their enforcement. But
the meaning of the phrases in which the
reason is expressed, was rather, at that time,
supposed, than either duly proved or illustra-
ted; so that it will be now expedient to con-
sider, simply in themselves, these latter words;
Thy light is come, and The glory of the Lord
is risen upon thee.
So far as this prophecy hath respect to the
restoration of the Jews from the Babylonish
captivity, that temporal deliverance, and the
ensuing peace and prosperity, was their light,
and that Divine power by which it was effect-
460
[SER. W.
CHRIST THE LIGHT AND
ed, was this glory of the Lord. And, indeed,
both these expressions are frequently used in
such a sense in holy writ. When I waited
for light, there came darkness, says Job,
chap. xxx. 26. So Isaiah lviii. 8, and many
other places. And the glory of the Lord is
used for a singular effect of {{. power, John
xi. 40, Isaiah Ix. 18, and elsewhere. But this
literal sense is but a step to elevate the prophet
to a sight of Christ's spiritual kingdom; which
is usual with him, as our Savior himself
testifies of another of his prophecies: These
things said Isaiah when he saw his glory, and
spake of him. John xii. 41. It was a sight of
that same glory, that makes him say, Thy
light is come.
In these words, there are three things con-
cerning Christ, represented to the church's
view. First, His beauty and excellency in
that he is called light, and the glory of the
Lord. Secondly, The church's propriety and
interest in him, thy light, and risen upon thee;
which hath a restrictive emphasis, as the very
next verse doth clearly manifest. As he is
originally the glory of the Lord, and the light
of the Lord, lumen de lumine, so he is, com-
municatively, the church's light, and her
glory too, as it is expressed in the 19th verse
of the same chapter, Thy God thy glory.
Thus hath she both his worth, and her own
right in him, to consider. Thirdly, His pres-
ence, or her actual possession, He is come and
is risen. And in these, the church and each
faithful soul may find a double spring of affec-
tion, the one of love, the other of joy. The
transcendent beauty of Christ makes him the
choicest object of love, and her property in
him, or title to him, together with possession,
is the proper cause of solid joy.
First, then, this excellency is expressed by
those two characters, light and the glory of
the Lord. Concerning which, it will be fit
both to demonstrate that they are the proper
titles of Christ, and here to be taken for him ;
as also, to show what they signify in him.
Indeed the apostle in his second epistle to
the Corinthians (ch. iii.) insists much in ex-
tolling both the light and the glory of the
gospel, and in the 4th verse of the next chap-
ter, speaks of the light of the glorious gospel,
but he immediately intimates whence it hath
this light and glory: The glorious gospel of
Christ, says he, who is the image of God. So
that it is most unnecessary to inquire whether
the Messiah, or the word that reveals him,
be rather here couched under these terms of
light and the glory of the Lord. These two
agree so well together, and these words agree
so well with them both, that it were an injury
to attempt to sever them. All the difference
will be this ; Christ is that incomplex and
substantial light, the gospel that complex
light wherein he appears. But (not to be
guilty of dark terms, especially in a discourse
of light), I take it, in this resemblance, Christ
is the sun, and the gospel his proper sphere
or heaven, wherein he giveslight to his church.
He is primarily the glory of the Lord, and the
gospel is so by participation, because it de-
clares him : so that much of that which shall
be spoken here of Christ, will be secondarily
to be understood of the gospel of Christ.
That Christ is light, the Scripture speaks
abundantly. His own voice concerning him-
self, notwithstanding the cavil of the Phari-
sees, is above all exception, for he is truth
itself: I am the light of the world, saith he ;
he that follows me shall not walk in darkness.
John viii. 12. The Father who sent him,
gives him the same title: I will give thee {.
a light of the Gentiles, Isa. xlii. 6; and xlix.
6. And not to multiply citations of the proph-
ets and evangelists, who with one consent all
magnify this light, take the true testimony
of a false prophet; and, indeed, the favorable
witness of an adversary is strongest: it is that
of Balaam, who saw that Christ was light,
though, because he saw him afar off (as he
says himself), and had not his eye fortified,
like the true prophets, he discerned him but
as a star: There shall come a star out of
Jacob. Numb. xxiv. 17. But what need we
go so far, to be certified what this light and
glory of the Lord is ? The Lord of glory
himself, in the very next verse to the text,
assures us of it : Upon thee shall the Lord
arise. And in the 19th verse, The Lord shall
be thy everlasting light, and thy God thy
glory. {
By this time, I hope, it is clear, that the
Eternal Son of God, co-essential with his
Father, was he who gave accomplishment to
this prophecy, by appearing to the world
wrapped up in the darkness of human nature.
He is that day-spring from on high, which
hath visited us, as old Zacharias speaks,
Luke i. 78.
Among all created excellences, none can be
borrowed more fitly representing Christ than
that of light. And is it not Christ that decks
his church with supernatural beauty, and
makes it indeed Kóguos, a comely world, call-
ed out of the world 2 But the manifold agree-
ment of light with Christ doth require more
particular consideration.
Light is (as they call it) primum visibile,
the first object of sight. And Jesus Christ,
whom the apostle styles God over all, blessed
for ever, is primum intelligibile, the prime
object of the understanding. . What is then
become of that Divine spark, that understand-
ing soul, which the Father of spirits breathes
into these bodies, that all our thoughts creep
here below, and leave their chief and noblest
object unconsidered ? Which of us may not
complain (though few of us do), that our souls
have either no wings to elevate themselves
to the contemplation of him from whom they
issued, or if they make attempts at it, our
affections, engaged to the world, make us,
like a bird tied by the foot, fall presently down
again into the mire ?, It is high time to leave
hunting shadows, and to turn our internal eye
to the beholding of this uncreated light.
ISA. lx, 1.]
461
LUSTRE OF THE CHURCH.
In this elementary world, light being (as we
here) the first thing visible, all things are seen
by it, and it by itself. . Thus is Christ among
spiritual things, in the elect world of his
church. All things are made manifest by the
light, says the apostles, Ephes. v. 13, speak-
ing of Christ, as the following verse doth
evidently testify. It is in his word that he
shines, and makes it a directing and convin-
cing light, to discover all things that concern
his church and himself, and to be known by
its own brightness. How impertinent, then,
is that question so much tossed by the Romish
church, How know you the Scriptures (say
they) to be the word of God, without the
testimony of the church 2 I would ask one
of them again, how they can know that it is
daylight, except some one light a candle to
let them see it. They are little versed in
Holy Scripture, who know not that it is fre-
quently called light , and they are senseless
who know not that light is seen and known
by itself. If our gospel be hid, says the
Apostle, it is hid to them that perish, the god
of this world having blinded their minds
against the light of the glorious gospel of
Christ. 2 Cor. iv. 3. No wonder if such stand
in need of a testimony. A blind man knows not
that it is light at noonday, but by report; not
to those that have eyes, light is seen by itself.
Again, light makes all other things that
are in themselves visible, to become actually
visible, as they speak; so, by the word of this
substantial word, Jesus Christ, all things in
religion are tried and discovered. The very
authority of the church, which they obtrude
so confidently, must be stopped and examined
by these Scriptures, which they would make
stand to its courtesy. Doctrines and worship
must be tried by this light; and that will not
endure this trial, must not be endured in the
house of God. To the law and to the testimo-
ny, says the prophet, if they speak not ac-
cording to this word, it is because there is no
light in them. Isa. viii. 20. The rays of
§ light are displayed through both his
Testaments, and in them we see him.
But oh, how sublime is the knowledge of
him | No one is ignorant that there is light,
yet, what light is, few know ; the best wits
are troubled to define it : so, all that bear the
name of Christians acknowledge that Christ
is, but to know what he is, is of marvellous
difficulty. In a speculative way, unsoundable
is the depth of his nature and properties.
And his generation who can declare 3 says our
prophet, Isa. liii. 8. ſ define not, whether
his eternal generation be meant, or his incar-
nation in time. These are mysteries that
shall hold the very angels busy in admiration
for ever. And as for experimental knowledge
by faith, how small is the number of those
that are truly acquainted with it !
Again, light fitly resembles Christ in
É it visits many impure places, and
ights upon the basest parts of the earth, and
yet remains most pure and undefiled. Christ
sees and takes notice of all the enormities and
sinful pollutions in the world : as David says
of the sun, there is nothing hid from his beams:
yea, many of those foul evils he cures, and
purgeth away these pollutions; and yet, he
is never stained by them in the least degree.
He is a physician not capable of infection, and
therefore while he dwelt among men, he
shunned not publicans and sinners, but sought
them rather, for with such was his business
and employment. Indeed, for a frail man to
be too bold in frequenting profane and obsti-
nate persons, though with intention to reclaim
them, is not always so safe. Metus est me
attrahant. They may pull him in, who
would help them forth, and pollute him who
would cleanse them. But our Savior, the
light of the world, runs no such hazard : he
is stronger than the perversest sinner, yea,
than the prince of darkness himself, over
whom his banners are always victorious, and
purer than to be in danger of pollution. His
precious blood is a fountain opened for sin
and uncleanness: sinners are purified by it,
and it is not defiled by them. Thousands have
washed in it, yet it shall abide, and always
shall be most perfectly pure. And such a
high priest was needful for us, who is dyiavros,
wndefiled, and who, though conversant with
sinners, to communicate to them his goodness,
was yet separate from sinners in immunity
from their evil. Heb. vii. 26.
To this agrees well that title which the
prophet Malachi gives him, chap. iv. 2,
when he calls him the Sun of Righteousness;
full of purity and righteousness, as the sun is
of light; all luminous, without spot ; subject
to no eclipse in himself, his light being his
own, though our sins interposed may hide
him sometimes from us, as those real eclipses
in the sun are rather ours, for we are deprived
of light, but not of the sun. Christ is in many
ways most fitly called the Sun ; for since all
created light falls infinitely short of his worth,
the prince and chief of lights, the sun, can
not but suit best, so far as may be, to set forth
his excellency.
The light of the sun is neither parted nor
diminished, by being imparted to many sev-
eral people and nations that behold it at one
time; nor is the righteousness of this Sun of
Righteousness either lessened to himself, or
to individual believers, by many partaking
of it at once: it is wholly conferred upon
each one of thern, and remains whole in
himself. Hence it is, that not only Christ in-
vites so liberally sinners to come to him, but
even justified persons would so gladly draw
all others to lay hold on this righteousness
of their Redeemer; knowing well, that if
all the world were enriched by it, they them-
selves would be no whit the poorer.
Again, the sun hath a vivifying power, not
only upon plants and vegetables, but, if phi-
losophers be right, Sol et homogenerant ho-
minem, it hath a special influence in the gen-
eration of man. But it is both more certainly
462
[SER. W.
CHRIST THE LIGHT AND
and more eminently true of this Sun we speak
of, in man's regeneration; that he is the
proper and principal efficient of it. The
evangelist calls him at once, the light and the
life of men. John i. 4. . To say nothing of
him as a treasure, he is the source of our
spiritual liſe and motion.
When the sun takes its course toward us
in the season of the year, it drives away the
sharp frosts of the heavy fogs of winter, it
clears the heavens, decks the earth with va-
riety of plants and flowers, and awakes the
birds to the pleasant strains of their natural
music. When Christ, after a kind of winter
absence, returns to visit a declining church,
admirable is the change that he produces:
all begins to flourish by his sweet influence ;
his house, his worship, his people, are all
clothed with a new beauty; but it is spiritu-
al, and therefore, none but spiritual eyes can
discern It. When he will thus return, all
the power and policy of man can no more
hinder him, than it could stay the course of
the sun in its circle. In like manner, a de-
serted, forsaken soul, that can do nothing but
languish and droop, while Christ withdraws
himself, what inexpressible vigor and alac-
rity finds it at his returning ! Then those
graces which, while they lurked, seemed to
have been lost and quite extinguished, bud
forth anew with pleasant color and fragrant
smell. It is the light of his countenance that
banisheth their false fears, that strengthens
their faith, and cures their spiritual infirmi-
ties. The Sun is indeed the sovereign phy-
sician : Unto you that fear my name, shall
the Sun of Righteousness arise with healing
wnder his wings. Mal. iv. 2.
Finally, all darkness flies away before him :
it was his arising in the world that made the
day break and the shadows fly away. The
types and shadows of the law were then
abolished. It was his light that dispelled the
mists of ignorance and idolatry, and he alone
delivers the soul from the night of sin and
misery produced by it. All the stars, and the
moon with them, can not make it day in the
world ; this is the sun’s prerogative: nor can
nature's highest light, the most refined sci-
ence and morality, make it day in the soul;
for this is Christ's.
The common light of reason, every man
that comes into the world hath from him as
his Creator; but the special light of grace,
they alone who are born again, have from
him as their Savior. Gross is the darkness
of every natural mind, till Christ enlighten
it : it can neither discern nor receive the
things of God, où &#xerat. Ye were darkness,
says the apostle, but now are ye light in the
Lord. Ephes. v. 8. The natural mind is
nothing else but a mass of darkness; and the
companion of darkness is confusion, as it was
in the mass of the world before light was
created. And what is there under heaven
more confused than a carnal mind; the affec-
tions quite out of order, and though all
naught, yet, sometimes fighting one with an-
other, and continually hurrying the judg-
ment whither they please ? Now, to dissi-
pate this darkness, and remedy this confu-
sion, Christ shines externally in his word.
But too much daily experience testifies, that
this is not sufficient: therefore to those whom
he will make children of the light, to meet
with this outward light of his word, he gives
another internal light by the Spirit. The sun
can make dark things clear, but it can not
make a blind man see them : but herein is
the excellency of this Sun, that he illumi-
mates not only the object, but the faculty;
does not only reveal the mysteries of his
kingdom, but opens blind eyes to behold
them. And the first lineament of the re-
newed image of God in man, is that light in
the understanding, removing not only that
simple ignorance of divine things, but those
misconceits, likewise, and false principles,
and that wicked pertinacity, whereof man's
mind is naturally full. He who at first com-
manded light to shine out of darkness, in-
fuseth saving knowledge and light into the
dark soul of man. And this light (as was
said) kindles love. It is vehiculum calorus,
hath a powerful influence, begetting heat in
the affections. Nor can this divine light be
ever again fully extinguished, but conducts
the soul that hath received it, till it be re-
ceived to the land of light and perfect hap-
piness. Thus in our Redeemer is the foun-
tain of life, as the psalmist speaks, and in
his light do we see light. Psalm xxxvi. 9.
He is likewise here styled the glory of
the Lord. In 2 Sam. iv. the ark of God is
called the glory, but it enjoyeth that name
as a type of Christ, in whom now that which
the ark contained is fulfilled. The taberna-
cle is called the dwelling of God's glory,
Psalm xxvi. 8, likewise typifying him, in the
tabernacle of whose human nature that glo-
ry dwells far more excellently. John i. 14.
'Eokävalaiv čv juïv, He dwelt in a tabernacle
among us, and we saw his glory as the glory
of the only begotten Son of God, full o
grace and truth. The author of the epistle
to the Hebrews calls him dravyagua, the bright-
ness of his Father's glory, and the charac-
ter of his person. Heb. i. 3. And under
these expressions lies that remarkable mys-
tery of the Son's eternal relation to the Fa-
ther, which is rather humbly to be adored
than boldly to be explained, either by God's
perfect understanding of his own essence, or
by any other notion. It is true, he is called
the wisdom of the Father, but this wisdom is
too wonderful for us. He is called The Word,
but what this word means, I think we shall
not well know till we see him face to face,
and contemplate him in the light of glory,
Meanwhile we may see him to be the glory
of the Lord, in a safer way, and in a suffi-
cient measure to guide us to that clear vision
reserved above for us. We saw his glory,
says that sublime evangelist. But how §
ISA. lx. 1.]
463
LUSTRE OF THE CHURCH.
his excellent glory be seen by sinful men,
and not astonish and strike dead the behold-
ers ?. He was made flesh and dwelt among us,
says he, and so we saw his glory. That majes-
ty which we could never have looked upon,
he veiled with human flesh, that we might
not die, yea, live by seeing him. There he
stood behind the wall, and showed himself
through the lattice. In him dwelt the ful-
ness of the Godhead, Col. ii. 9, but it was
gopartkós, bodily: for who could have endured
the splendor of the Godhead's fulness, iſ that
cloud of his body had not been drawn be-
tween 2 And through it did shine that grace
and truth, that wisdom and power, in the
Work of our redemption, whereby he was
clearly manifested to be the glory of the
Lord.
Surely, we need not now ask the church,
or a believing soul, What is thy beloved more
than another 2 Or if we do, well may she an-
SWer, He is the chiefest among ten thousand,
and altogether lovely; for he is the light of
the world and the glory of the Lord. Let
not the numerous titles of earthly potentates
be once admitted into comparison with these.
If we believe David, Psalm lxii. 9, the state-
liest things and persons in the world, being
balanced with vanity itself, are found lighter
than it : and shall we offer to weigh them
with Christ 2 If we knew him rightly, we
would not sell the least glance or ‘beam of
this light of his countenance, for the highest
favor of mortal man, though it were constant
and unchangeable, which it is not. It is ig-
morance of Christ that maintains the credit of
those vanities we admire. The Christian that
is truly acquainted with him, enamored with
the brightness of his beauty, can generously
trample upon the smilings of the world with
the one foot, and upon her frownings with
the other. If he be rich or honorable, or
both, yet, he glories not in that, but Christ,
who is the glory of the Lord, is even then his
chiefest glory ; and the light of Christ ob-
scures that worldly splendor in his estima-
tion. And as the enjoyment of Christ over-
tops all his other joys, so it overcomes his
griefs. As that great light drowns the light
of prosperity, so it shines bright in the dark-
mess of affliction: no dungeon so close that it
can keep out the rays of Christ's love from
his beloved prisoners. The world can no
more take away this light, than it can give
it. Unto the just ariseth light in darkness,
says the psalmist; and, When I sit in dark-
ness, the Lord shall be a light unto me, says
the church, Mic. vii. 8. And as this light is
a comfort, so it is likewise a defence, which
suffers no more of distress to come near the
godly, than is profitable for them. There-
fore we find very frequently in Scripture,
where this light and glory is mentioned, pro-
tection, and safety jointly spoken of: The
Lord is my light, and withal my salvation:
whom shall I fear 2 says David, Psalm xxvii.
1. The Lord is a sun, and he is a shield
too. Psalm lxxxiv. 11. And truly I think
him shot-proof that hath the sun for his
buckler. And for glory, Upon all the glory
shall be a defence, says our prophet, chap.
iv. 5. And the prophet Zachariah, where
he calls the Lord the church's glory in the
midst of her, calls him likewise, a wall of
fire round about her, chap. ii. 4. The only
way, then, to be safe, is to keep this light
and the glory entire. To part with any
part of this glory, is to make a breach in that
wall of fire; and if that be a means of safety,
let all men judge. No, keep it whole, and
then they must come through the fire, who
will assault you. Nor is this light only de-
fensive of the church that embraceth it, but
it is likewise destructive of all adverse pow-
ers. See a clear testimony for this in Isa. x.
17, 18. And the light of Israel shall be for a
fire, and his Holy One for a flame, and
(speaking there of the Assyrians) it shall
burn and devour his thorns and his briers in
one day, and shall consume the glory of his
forest, and of his fruitful field, both soul and
body, and they shall be as when a standard-
bearer fainteth. Let ever then the church
of God entirely observe this light and glory
of the Lord ; and she shall undoubtedly be
preserved by it.
But to close in a word, first, to those who
know this light, and then, to those who are
yet strangers to it.
You who know Christ, glory in him per-
petually. Well may he be your glory, when
he is the glory of the Lord. There are some
who pretend love to Christ, and yet, a taunt-
ing word of some profane miscreant will al-
most make them ashamed of him. How would
they die for Christ, who are so tender as not
to endure a scoff for him 2 Where is that
spirit of Moses, who accounted the very re-
proaches of Christ greater riches than the
treasures of Egypt 2 Heb. xi. 26. Oh, learn
to glory in Christ; think highly of him, and
speak so too. Methinks it is the discourse in
the world that becomes Christians best, to be
speaking one to another honorably of Jesus
Christ. And of all men, the preachers of his
gospel should be most frequent in this sub-
ject. This should be their great theme, to
extol and commend the Lord Jesus, that they
may inflame many hearts with his love; and
best can they do this, who are most strongly
taken with this love themselves. Such will
most gladly abase themselves, that Christ
may be magnified ; and whatsoever be their
excellencies, they will still account Christ
their glory. And they are richly repaid, for
he accounts them his glory. This would
seem a strange word, if it were not the apos-
tle's : They are the messengers of the church-
es and the glory of Christ. 2 Cor. viii. 23.
Delight who will, either in sloth or ignorance
on the one hand, or in vain speculations and
strains of frothy wit on the other; surely,
those preachers only shall be approved in the
great day, who have constantly endeavored,
464
[SER. VI.
HOPE AMID BILLOWS.
in their measure, to speak the best and fittest
they could for their Master's advantage. And
happy those Christians, of what estate soev-
er, who in all estates make Christ their glo-
ry, and in all actions have their eye fixed
upon his glory, who is their light and the
glory of the Lord
Now to those who are strangers to him
(would to God none that are to be spoken to,
were such') to them, I say, notice is given both
of the excellency and the necessity of Christ.
Though it were possible to grope the way to
happiness in the dark, yet, none will deny
but to be conducted thither by a constant
light is both more safe and more delightful.
But were there any possibility of attaining
that end without this light, the neglect of it
were not altogether so strange. The wonder
of all is this, that Christ alone being both
that life, and the way to it, and the truth, or
light, that guides in that way (John xiv. 6),
yet Christians (so called) should esteem and
look after him as little as if he were wholly
needless What meanest thou, O besotted
sinner 2 Is it so light a thing to die in thy
sins, and to die eternally for them, that thou
wilt not so much as open and admit the light
of salvation ? What wilt, thou pretend in
that terrible day ? Though all other kinds
of people should offer some excuse, thou who
hast heard the gospel, shalt be speechless.
For not only shall the rigor of justice con-
demn thee, but mercy itself shall plead
against thee; for thou hast despised it. That
light did come and was not embraced, shall
be the main condemnation. How many thou-
sands who make no doubt of heaven, yet
shall then fall short of it ! It is not a super-
ficial profession, that will then pass current.
It is not some public sighs and groans from
an unsanctified heart, which either come from
custom, or some present touch of the word,
nor yet is it some sudden risings of inward af-
fection toward Christ, upon the report of his
worth, that shall then serve the turn. The
intellective knowledge of Christ, the distinct
understanding, yea, the Orthodox preaching
of his gospel, the maintaining of his public
cause, and suffering for it, shall not then be
found sufficient. Only that peculiar appre-
hension of Christ, those constant flames of
spiritual love, that even course of holy walk-
ing in his light, shall be those characters
whereby Christ shall own his children, and
admit them into the inheritance of perfect
light. One of the speakers in the book of
Job, discoursing of the prosperity of the un-
godly, calls it but his candle, and tells how
long it can last: his candle (says he) shall be
put out with him. . And that's the longest
term of it: if it last his lifetime, it shall con-
vey him no further ; he goes into eternity in
the dark, and therefore, as St. John says, he
knows not whither he goeth. Quà nunc ab-
ibis 2 said that emperor (Adrian) to his soul.
Is it not a sad thing when the soul that
knows no other than worldly light, must take
leave of it, and enter into eternal darkness,
there to be incessantly tormented with pres-
ent anguish, and the frightful expectation of
the last judgment, when it must take again
that body which was the accomplice of its
wickedness, to be partaker of its punishment;
when it shall have a double misery, to behold
crowns of immortality distributed to the god-
ly, after the short combats of this life, and it-
self thrust out among the devils 2 Then shall
all men be in some way sensible, what is the
worth of this now contemned light, the Lord
Jesus Christ: the greatest number too late,
for they shall be banished from it for ever.
But the righteous shall then most perfectly
know, and for ever enjoy, this light and glory
of the Lord. To whom, with the Father of
lights, and the Spirit of grace, be eternity in
praise and honor.
===s*-
SERMON WI.
HOPE AM1D BILLOWS.
WHAT shall it profit a man, if he gain the
whole world, and lose his own soul ?said our
Savior, who was to lay down a ransom for it,
and knew well that it would cost infinitely
more than the world was worth. Yet, the
most of men value their own souls at a far
lower rate than the whole world, losing them
for broken morsels of it: yea, many times for
vain hopes that are never accomplished. And
as these men make a miserable bargain, so
on the contrary, they that lose the world, or
anything worldly, yea, though it were the
whole, to save their souls, make a profitable
loss of it. Nature teaches men to hazard and
lose all for the life of the body rather than
Jose it (although it proves many times very
uncomfortable by the loss of these outward
things), and yet, the most part of men pass
their whole lifetime without one serious
thought of the excellency and importance of
their souls, whose life and happiness is of a
higher nature, and neither consists in, nor de-
pends upon, anything here below. Hence it
is, that while they use the helps of this pres-
ent life, and the defences of it when it is in
danger, and use them with so much diligence
and attention, the means of that better life of
their better part, their souls they either use
not at all, or so slightly and coldly that they
never find salvation in them. You may find
it some way in yourselves: the threatenings
and preparations of men against you have
awakened and roused you more to think upon
means of your temporal safety ; but how few
are sensible and afraid of the wrath of God,
who, as our Savior tells us, can kill both
body and soul, and cast them into hell ! You
want not frequent advertisement from the
word of God, so plentifully preached, that
many are perishing, one part in gross igno-
rance of God, another in profane and licen-
tious living, and the greatest part in a formal
PsALM xlii. 8.]
465
HOPE AMID BILLOWS.
and lifeless profession of religion, without the
power of it; and yet, where are they who lay
it to heart, and bestir themselves to rescue
their souls from destruction ? Certainly,
whatsoever men profess, it is unbelief that is
the cause of impenitence. Men are not con-
vinced of the purity of God's nature, nor sen-
sible of the impurity of their own; therefore
they apply not themselves in good earnest to
the work of repentance, and to reformation,
the liveliest part of it. Labor, then, for a more
active and practical knowledge of God and
Divine truths, such as may humble and re-
new your souls; not only that you may be
delivered from outward troubles that threaten
you, but much more, that you may escape
the wrath to come. And because neither
the word preached, nor judgments, nor mer-
cies, that are set before you, are sufficient to
quicken a dead soul, or soften a hard heart,
without the effectual concurrence of the Spir-
it of God, let us have recourse to the throne
of grace, by humble and earnest prayer, in
the name and mediation of Jesus Christ.
PsALM xlii. 8.
Yet the Lord will command his loving-kindness in the
daytime, and in the night his song shall be with
me, and my prayer unto the God of my life.
MAN is born to trouble, as the sparks fly
upward, saith Eliphaz, Job v. 7. And as it
is the corruption and sinfulness of his birth
and nature, that has exposed him to trouble,
so nature usually sets him at work, to look
out for such things as may preserve and de-
liver him from trouble, or, at least, mitigate
and temper the bitterness of it. And because
there is not any one worldly thing that hath
either certainty or sufficiency enough to
serve at all times, therefore worldly and mat-
ural men are forced to make use of variety,
and are but badly served with them all. The
believing soul hath but one comfort whereon
he relies, but it is a great one, which alone
weighs down all the rest. Bread strengthens,
and wine makes glad the heart of man, Psalm
civ. 15. But God is the strength of my heart,
says the psalmist, Psalm lzxiii. 26, and the
gladness of it too: Thou hast put gladness in
my heart, more than they have when their
corn and wine increaseth. Psalm vi. 7. And
therefore, while the rest are seeking after
some scattered crumbs of goodness in the
creatures, and saying, Who will show us any
good 2 he fixes his choice upon this one
thing, the light of God's countenance. And
it is the constant assurance of this that up-
holds him. Waves beat upon him, yea, and
go over him ; yet, the Lord will command
his loving kindness to shine upon him.
In this psalm we may perceive the psalm-
ist full of perplexed thoughts, and that be-
tween strong desires and griefs, and yet, in
the midst of them, now and then, some ad-
Vantage, and intermixing strains of hope with
his sad complaints: for immediately before,
we heard nothing but the impetuous noise of
many waters, deep calling unto deep, in the
former verse; we have here, as it were, a
touch of the sweet sound of David's harp :
Yet the Lord will command his loving kind-
ness in the daytime, and in the night his song
shall be with me.
In the words we have David’s confidence
and David's purpose : the one suiting very
well with the other. His confidence in God's
loving kindness: Yet the Lord will command
His loving kindness. And his purpose : And
in the night his song shall be with me.
It is true, the latter words, In the night his
song shall be with me, may be taken as a
part of the expression of his confidence, ta-
king the song for the matter or subject of the
song, the goodness of God: as if he should
say, Both in the day and in the night, I shall
find the sweet fruits of God's favor and loving
kindness. But not excluding that, I rather
take it to be intended as his resolution, that it
should be his custom in the quiet season of
the night, to look back upon God's goodness
manifested to him in the actions and occur-
rences of the day; and thus entertaining his
soul with that secret discourse, he would stir
it up to the praises of his God, and withal
would join prayer for the continuance and
further manifestation of it. David (as was
hinted before) intermixes strains of hope, not
that faint and common hope of possibility or
probability, that after stormy days it may be
better with him, but a certain hope that shall
never make ashamed ; such a hope as springs
from faith, yea, in effect, is one with it.
Faith rests upon the goodness and truth of
Him who hath promised, and hope, raising it-
self upon faith so established, stands up and
looks out to the future accomplishment of the
promise. Therefore the apostle calls Faith,
the substance of things hoped for, régrao's
and the evidence of things not seen. Heb. xi.
1. Of all other hope it is true, Spes est no-
men boni incerti : It is the name of uncertain
good. But this can say, The Lord will com-
mand his loving kindness.
The Lord will command. What a sudden
change is here! Would you think this were
the same man that was even now almost
overwhelmed 2 Thus faith always conquers,
though seldom, or never, without a hard con-
flict; not only assaulted by troubles without,
but, which is worse, by incredulity within ;
nor assaulted only, but many times brought
under ; yet does it not succumb and give
over, knowing that even after many foils, yet,
in the end, it shall overcome. .
His confidence: yòu may consider, first, op-
positely, and then positively, or simply in it.
self. Öppositely both to his present trouble,
and to his eomplaints, wherein this trouble is
expressed: aid that is fitly implied, though it
be not in the original. º }
Though the multitude and weight of Job's
afflictions did force out of him some bitter
words; and made him look back upon the
day of his birth, and curse it; yet faith re-
59
466
[SER. WI
HOPE AMID BILLOWS.
covers him from his distemper, and makes
him look forward with joy, even as far as to
the blessed day of his resurrection: I know
that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall
stand at the latter day upon the earth: and
though after my skin, worms destroy this body,
et, in my flesh shall I see God. Job xix. 25.
#. former words of impatience he spake in-
deed, but he adheres to these, and wishes that
they were written with an iron pen, and en-
graven to abide for ever. Therefore we hear
of him again in scripture, as a righteous and
patient man, but of these words of his impa-
tience not a word. In the lxxviith Psalm,
what sad expostulations are those the psalm-
ist uses, Will he be favorable no more ? Is
his mercy clean gone for ever ? Doth his
promise fail for evermore ? Hath God for-
gotten to be gracious 2 Hath he in anger
shut up his tender mercies 2 But see how he
corrects them, ver. 10: Then I said, this is
my infirmity, but I will remember the years of
the right hand of the Most High. Thus Jo-
nah (ch. ii. 3, 4) speaks in a strain much like
this ; but there it was literally true, that God
had cast him into the deep. And here, deep
calls unto deep, yet, in the midst of those
deeps, faith is not drowned ; you see it lifts
up its head above water; Yet, the Lord will
command, &c. Yea, though it takes particu-
lar notice of God's hand in the affliction, yet
it goes not to another hand for comfort: it is
Thy waves and Thy billows, yet that same
&: whose waves are like to destroy me, will
ere long command his loving kindness to
shine upon me. So Job xiii. 15. Though he
slay me, yet will I trust in him. A wonder-
ful expression of faith ! He says not, though
he afflict me sore, but, Though he slay me;
not, Though evil men or Satan should do it,
but, Though he slay me, yet will I trust in
him. What troubled mind can imagine any
thing harder against itself than this?
1. Learn, then, to check those excessive
doubts and fears, by some such resolute word
as this. Turn the promise, first upon thyself,
and when upon God. Consider that he hath
pronºise; life eternal, to believers, and then
say...". "hough H saw his hand as it were lift-
ed up c., lestroy ºne, yet from that very hand
will ºf ., "t salvation; for I have his word
*E* it, that if I believe, I shall be
- et say, that a soul under temp-
. In , itself that God i º
"TêCanna; Sºure "d herein possibly lies of:
j.". It , al. * ; for this reflex act of
€ * our duty to seek af.
ºft and reward than
nd proper act of
* Hiecessity, and
sense of as-
*n a recum-
* the soul
Cl ‘eeds us
"nvert
the
re
a Savior to me, I could believe. That is to
say, I would first see, and then believe. But
the true method is just contrary. I had faint-
ed, says David, unless I had believed to see
the goodness of the Lord. He believed it
first, and saw it afterward. And in this
same psalm, laboring to still his disquieted
soul by elevating it above his troubles to
look upon his God, he says to it, Hope in him
now, and, ere it be long, thou shalt praise him
for the help of his countenance, even while
His countenance is withheld. And thus faith
ought to triumph over spiritual fears and dif-
ficulties.
2. How incongruous is it, that outward
dangers or trials should overmatch it! Will
you trust God upon his word, for Salvation
and eternal happiness, and be diffident for the
safety and needful blessings of this temporal
life, which life, in comparison, is but for a mo-
ment, and the best things of it but dross? Con-
sider that you dishonor faith exceedingly, and
degenerate from the believing saints of former
ages. Indeed, the promises of this life, and
that which concerns it, though godliness hath
them, yet, they are not so absolute, nor are
they so absolutely needful for you. But con-
sidering the wisdom and love of your heav-
enly Father, learn to compose your minds
by it. -
'ſ will not be afraid, though ten thousands
of the people set themselves against me round
about, says David. Psalm iii. 6. And lest you
think him singular, in the 46th Psalm, it is
the joint voice of the whole church of God:
We will not fear, though the earth be remov-
ed, and the mountains be cast into the midst
of the sea : though the waters thereof roar
and be troubled ; though the mountains shake
with the swelling thereof. There is a river,
the streams whereof make glad the city of
God : the holy place of the tabernacle of the
most high God is in the midst of her ; she
shall not be moved. That is the way to be im-
moveable in the midst of troubles, as a rock
amidst the waves. When God is in the
midst of a kingdom or city, he makes it firm
as Mount Sion, that can not be removed.
When he is in the midst of a soul, though
calamities throng about it on all hands, and
roar like the billows of the sea, yet, there is
a constant calm within, such a peace as the
world can neither give nor take away. On
the other side, what is it but want of lodg-
ing God in the soul, and that in his stead the
world is in the midst of men's hearts, that
makes them shake like the leaves of trees at
every blast of danger ? What a shame is it,
seeing natural men, by the strength of nar
ture, and by help of moral, precepts, have
attained such undaunted resolution and cour-
age against outward changes, that yet they
who would pass for Christians, are so soft
and fainting, and so sensible of the smallest
alterations ! The advantage that we have in
this regard is infinite. What is the best
ground-work of a philosopher's constancy,
PsALM xlii. 8.]
467
HOPE AMID BILLOWS.
but as moving sands in comparison of the
Rock that we may build upon 2 But the
truth is, that either we make no provision of
faith for times of trial, or, if any we have, we
neither know the worth nor the use of it, but
lay it by, as a dead unprofitable thing, when
we should most use and exercise it. Not-
withstanding all our frequenting of God's
house, and our plausible profession, is it not
too true, that the most of us either do not at
all furnish ourselves with those spiritual
arms that are so needful in the militant life
of a Christian, or we learn not how to han-
dle them, and are not in readiness for service 2
As was the case of that improvident soldier,
whom his commander found mending some
piece of his armor, when they were to give
battle. It were not amiss, before afflictions
Overtake us, to try and train the mind some-
what by supposing the very worst and hard-
est of them ; to say, What if the waves and
billows of adversity were swelled and flow-
ing in upon me; could I then believe? God
hath said, I will not fail thee nor forsake thee,
with a heap of negations: In no wise, I will
not. He hath said, When thou passest through
the fire and through the water, I will be with
thee. These I know, and can discourse of
them ; but could I repose and rest upon them
in the day of trial 2 Put your souls to it. Is
there any thing or person that you esteem
and love exceedingly 2 Say, What if I should
!ose this 2 Is there some evil that is natural-
ly more contrary and terrible to you than
many others? Spare not to present that to
the imagination too, and labor to make faith
master of it beforehand in case it should be-
iall you ; and if the first thought of it scare
you, look upon it the oftener, till the visage
of it become familiar to you, that you start
and scare no more at it. Nor is there any
danger in these thoughts. Troubles can not
be brought the nearer by our thus thinking
on them ; but you may be both safer and
stronger by breathing and exercising of your
faith in supposed cases. But if you be so ten-
der-spirited, that you can not look upon ca-
lamities so much as in thought or fancy, how
would you be able for a real encounter ? No,
surely. But the soul that hath made God
his stay, can do both. See it in that notable
resolution of the prophet, Hab. iii. 17: Al-
though the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither
shall fruit be in the vines, the labor of the
olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no
meat, the flock shall be cut off from the fold,
and there shall be no herd in the stalls : yet I
will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God
of my salvation. The Lord God is my
strength. And in that of David, Psalm xxiii.
4: ...Yea, says he, though I walk through the
valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no
evil, for thou art with me ; Thy rod and thy
staff, they comfort me. You see how faith is
a cork to his soul, keeping it from sinking in
the deeps of afflictions. Yea, that big word
which one says of his morally just man,
'kindness of the Lord.
is true of the believer : Si fractus illabatur
orbis— Though the very fabric of the world
were falling about him, yet would he stand
wpright and undaunted in the midst of its
7°2/272S,
In this confidence, considered in itself, we
may observe, 1. The object of it ; The loving
2. The manner or
way by which he expects to enjoy it. The
Lord will command it. 3. The time : In the
day.
1. The object: His loving kindness. He
says not. The Lord will command my re-
turn to the house of God, or, will accomplish
my deliverance from the heavy oppression and
sharp reproaches of the enemy, which would
have answered more particularly and ex-
pressly to his present griefs, but, will com-
mand his loving kindness. And the reason
of his thus expressing himself, I conceive to
be twofold. [1..] In the assurance of this, is
necessarily comprised the certainty of all
other good things. This special favor and
benignity of the Lord doth engage his pow-
er and wisdom (both which you know are in-
finite) to the procurement of everything truly
good for those whom he so favors. There-
fore it is, that David chooses rather to name
the streams of particular mercles in this their
living Source and Fountain, than to specify
them severally. Nor is it only thus more
compendious, but the expression is fuller
too, which are the two great advantages of
speech. And this I take to be the other rea-
son : [2.] A man may enjoy great deliveran-
ces, and many positive benefits from the hand
of God, and yet have no share in his loving
kindness. How frequently doth God heap
riches, and honor, and health, on those he
hates, and the common gifts of the mind too,
wisdom and learning, yea, the common gifts
of his own Spirit, and give a fair and long
day of external prosperity to those on whom
he never vouchsafed the least glance of his
favorable countenance 1 Yea, on the contra-
ry, he gives all those specious gifts to them
with a secret curse ! As he gave a king in
wrath to his people, so he often gives king-
doms in his wrath to kings. Therefore Da-
vid looks higher than the very kingdom
which God promised him and gave him,
when he speaks of his loving kindness. In
a word, he resolves to solace himself with
the assurance of this, though he was strip-
ped of all other comforts, and to quiet his
soul herein, till deliverance should come ;
and when it should come, and whatsoever
mercies with it, to receive them as fruits and
effects of this loving kindness : not prizing
them so much for themselves, as for the im-
pressions of that love which is upon them.
And it is that image and superscription that
both engages and moves him most to pay his
tribute of praise. And truly, this is every-
where David's temper: his frequent distres-
ses and wants never excite him so much to
desire any particular comfort in the creature,
468
[SER. VI.
HOPE AMID BILLOWS.
as to entreat the presence and favor of God
himself. His saddest times are when, to his
sense, this favor is eclipsed. In my prosperi-
ty I said, I shall not be moved. And what
was his adversity that made him of another
mind? Thou didst hide thy face, and I was
troubled. This verifies his position in that
same Psalm. In thy favor is life. Thus, in
the 63d Psalm, at the beginning, My soul
thirsteth for thee, in a dry land where there
is no water : not for water, where there is
none, but, for thee where there is no water.
Therefore he adds, in verse 3, Thy loving
kindness is better than life. And all that be
truly wise, are of this mind, and will sub-
scribe to his choice. Let them enjoy this
loving kindness and prize it, because, what-
ever befalls them, their happiness and joy is
above the reach of all calamities. Let them
be derided and reproached abroad, yet still,
this inward persuasion makes them glad and
contented. As a rich man said, though the
people hated and taunted him, yet, when he
came home and looked upon his chests, Ego-
met mihi plaudo domi ; with how much bet-
ter reason do believers bear out external in-
juries' What inward contentment is theirs,
when they consider themselves as truly en-
riched with the favor of God! And as this
makes them contemn the contempts that the
world puts upon them, so, likewise, it breeds
in them a negleet and disdain of those poor
trifles that the world admires. The sum of
their desires is (as that of the cynic's was,
the Sunshine), that the rays of the love of
God may shine constantly upon them. The
favorable aspect and large proffers of kings
and princes, would be unwelcome to them,
if they should stand between them and the
sight of that Sun. And truly they have rea-
son. . What are the highest things the world
affords 2 What are great honors and great
estates, but great cares and griefs well dress-
ed and colored over with a show of pleasure,
that promise contentment, and perform noth-
ing but vexation ? That they are not satis-
fying, is evident; for the obtaining of much
of them doth but stretch the appetite, and
teach men to desire more. They are not
solid, neither. Will not the pains of a gout,
of a strangury, or some such malady (to say
nothing of the worst, the pains of a guilty
conscience), blast all these delights 2 What
relish finds a man in large revenues and
stately buildings, in high preferments and
honorable titles, when either his body or his
mind is in anguish And besides the emp-
tiness of all these things, you know they
Want one main point, continuance. But the
loving kindness of God hath all requisites to
make the soul happy. O, satisfy us early
with thy goodness (or mercy), says Moses,
that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.
Psalm xc. 14. There is fulness in that for
the vastest desires of the soul—satisfy us:
there is solid contentment—that begets true
joy and gladness; and there is permanency
—all our days. It is the only comfort of
this life, and the assurance of a better. This
were a large subject to insist on, but certain-
ly the naming of his loving kindness should
beget in each heart a high esteem of it, an
ardent desire after it. And if it do so with
you, then know, that it is only to be found in
the way of holiness. He is a holy God, and
can love nothing that is altogether unlike
himself. There must always be some simil-
itude and conformity of nature to ground
kindness and friendship upon, and to main-
tain it. That saying is true, Idem ville et
idem molle, firma amicitia. What gross self-
flattery is it, to think that God’s loving kind-
ness can be toward you, while you are in love
with sin, which he so perfectly hates How
can the profane swearer, or voluptuous per-
son, or the oppressor and covetous, or the
close hypocrite (worse than any of them),
rest upon the loving kindness of the Lord in
the day of troubles? No, surely. But the
terror of his wrath shall be added to all their
other calamities; and they shall find it heav-
ier than all the rest. God will not pour this
precious oil of gladness, this persuasion of
his love, into filthy vessels. Even his own
children, when they grieve and sadden his
holy Spirit by unholiness, shall be sadly pun-
ished by the withdrawing of those comfort-
ing and sensible expressions of his love.
Labor, then, you who as yet never tasted
of this love, to know what it means. For-
sake and hate that which hitherto has made
you strangers to it; for if you obtain this, it
shall comfort you when those things can not,
but would rather prove your greatest torment.
And you who have received any testimonies
of it, entertain it carefully, for it is your best
comfort both in your best days and in your
worst days too.
You would all gladly be delivered from the
many evils that threaten you ; for many they
be indeed, and peace is a great blessing. But
suppose you were secured from all those
fears, and he should command a sudden calm
(which truly he can do), would you then
think yourselves happy 2 That life of yours
which you so fear to lose by fire or sword,
though you had peace, would ere long fall
into the hands of some ague, or fever, or con-
Sumption, and perish by them; or at the long-
est, a few years will end it: it is a lighted
candle, which, though nobody blow out, will
quickly burn out of itself. But this loving
kindness is not so short lived : it shall last as
long as your souls, and so long as it lasts,
they shall be happy. Those goods that you
fear shall be pillaged and spoiled in war, how
many hazards are they subject to even in
peace Solomon tells you, that riches often-
times, though nobody should take them away,
make themselves wings, and fly away. And
truly, many times the undue sparing of them,
is but the letting of their wings grow, which
makes them readier to fly away : and the con-
tributing a part of them to do good, only clips
PsALM xlii. 8.]
469
HOPE AMID BILLOWS.
their wings a little, and makes them stay the
longer with their owner. But this by the
way. Howsoever, in the day of death, and
in the day of wrath, as Solomon says, they
profit nothing at all. Prov. xi. 4. So, then,
though you may desire that God would com-
mand deliverance for you, yet, if you would
be truly happy, your greater and more ear-
nest suit should be, that he would command
his loving kindness to appear to your souls.
And having once obtained this, you may pos-
sibly be persecuted, and endure hard trials,
but one thing is made sure, you can not be
miserable. Nor shall you want temporal mer-
cies and preservation too, so far as they are
good for you. The inward assurance of this
love ºl carry you strangely and sweetly
through all outward vicissitudes; and when
the day shall come, that all other comforts
shall look pale upon you, then shall you find
the worth and happiness of this more than
ever before. Observe,
2. The manner in which the psalmist ex-
pects to enjoy the object of his confidence.
The Lord will command, make it appear to
me. Sometimes God is said to shut up and
hide his love from his children, and that is a
mournful time with them. But we read not
that he shuts out his love, and ceaseth alto-
gether to have affection to those whom once
he loved. And therefore, when he shows
himself again, in the gracious manifestations
of his mercy, he is not said to begin anew to
love them, but only to command his love,
which erewhile he had countermanded to ap-
pear.
3. The time : In the day. If you have a
mind to take the day and night, figuratively,
for prosperous and adverse times, it would
lead you, in that sense, to observe David's
constancy in God’s praises ; which was such
that not only in the day of deliverance, but
even in the night of distress, he resolved a
song for God. And truly, many times God
gives his children in an afflicted condition,
more sweetness of spirit, more aptitude, not
only to pray, but to praise, and more spiritual
delight in himself, than in times of outward
peace and prosperity. . He giveth songs in
the night, said Job ; and you know the sound
of music is most delightful in the night. But
to take it properly, David is confident that in
the several actions and occurrences of the day
he should find the goodness and favorable as-
sistance of the Lord ; and then he resolves
(which leads to the other part of the text) in
the night time to meditate on that goodness,
;: to frame a song of praise to the Author
of it.
And indeed, what is the whole thread of
our life, but a checkered twist, black and
white, of delights and dangers interwoven 2
and the happiest passing of it, is constantly
to enjoy and to observe the experiences of
God's goodness, and to praise him for them.
David was a wise king, and withal a valiant
experience inconsonant with either of these
two conditions. This precious book of Psalms
(a great part thereof being his) testifies clear-
ly that prayer and praises were his great em-
ployment. A religious disposition of mind
may not only consist with fortitude and mag-
nanimity, but is indeed the best principle and
cause of both, contrary to the wicked and
foolish opinion of profane persons. Whether
of the two, do you think, might welcome a
day of battle with most courage and resolu-
tion, he that had passed the preceding night
in revelling and carousing, or he that had
spent it in prayer, and obtained some assu-
rance of a better life? Truly, if they went
on with equal forwardness, there is no man,
except he were an atheist, but would judge
the one to be brutish fury and precipitation,
and the other true valor.
His song. In the worst estate there is ever
some matter of praise to be mixed with re-
quest; and truly, we may justly suspect that
our neglect of praises makes our prayers un-
acceptable. -
And my prayer. In the best estate here
below, praise must be accompanied with
prayer. Our wants, and necessities, and
straits, return daily upon us, and require new
supplies of mercy; and prayer, if we know
lºw to use it right, is the way to obtain them
all.
To the God of my life, or, the God that is
my life. This word is added, as the reason
º all that went before. If you ask David
why he reposeth so much upon the loving
kindness of God, what he means, to spend so
much pains in praises and prayer to God; he
answers, Because he is my life. He is the au-
thor and preserver of my temporal life, and
all the passages and accidents of it are in his
hand alone. He hath also given me, and he
maintains in me a spiritual life; yea, he is
the life of my soul: it lives by union with
him, as my body does by union with it, and
he hath laid up life eternal for me. Would
Christians think thus indeed, the light of this
consideration would dispel their distrustful
fears. Certainly there is atheism at the bot-
tom of them; if not a denial or a misconceit
of God, at least a forgetfulness of God. See
Isa. li. 12, 13: I, even I, am he that comfort-
eth you. Who art thou that thou shouldst be
afraid of a man that shall die, and of the son
of man, which shall be made as grass, and
forgettest the Lord thy Maker, that hath
stretched forth the heavens, and laid the foun-
dations of the earth 2 Consider, then, that
men have no power over our present life, but
by the appointment of God. And beside that,
we have another life which is infinitely more
precious than this: a life spiritual, and which
is the beginning of eternal life; and this is al-
together out of danger from them. Our life
is hid with Christ in God. Col. iii. 3. It is
hid, and wicked men can not so much as see
it: how then should they take it from us, see:
soldier, and yet we see he thought not this ling it is hid 2 And that not meanly ; it is hid
470
[SER. Wiſ.
GENEROUS GRIEF.
with Christ in God. What then shall become
of it 2 Read the next verse, and read it to
your comfort, for there is abundance in it, if
you look right upon it. When Christ, who is
our life shall appear, we likewise shall appear
with him in glory. They that are in God, be-
ing united to him through Christ, can never
by any power be separated from him. It is
an indissoluble union. Death itself, that is
the great dissolver of all other unions, civil
and natural, is so far from untying this, that
it consummates it: it conveys the soul into
the nearest and fullest enjoyment of God, who
is its life, where it shall not need to desire
that God would command (or send) his loving
kindness, as it were from a distance : it shall
be then at the spring-head, and shall be sat-
isfied with his love for ever.
SERMON VII.
GENEROUS GRIEF.
WHEREFORE do you spend money for that
which is not bread, and your labor for that
which satisfies not 2 says the prophet. Isaiah
lv.2. All men agree in this, that they would
willingly meet with some satisfying good;
and yet, if you look aright upon the projects
and labors of the greatest part, you shall find
them flying from it, and taking much pains
to be miserable. And truly, considering the
darkness that is upon the soul of man, it is no
great wonder to see those miss their way,
and continue wandering, who hear not the
voice of the gospel to recall them, and see
not its light to direct them. But this is some-
what strange, that where true happiness, and
the true way to it are propounded and set be-
fore men, so few should follow it in good ear-
nest. If the excellency of that good did not
allure them, yet one would think that their
many disappointments in all other things,
should drive them home to it. How often do
we run ourselves out of breath after shadows'
And when we think we have overtaken them,
nd would lay hold of them, we find nothing.
And yet, still we love to befool ourselves,
even against our own experience, which, we
Say, uses to make fools wiser. Still we choose
rather to shift from one vanity to another,
than to return to that Sovereign Good, that
alone can fill the vastest desires of our souls;
rather to run from one broken cistern to anoth-
er, as the prophet calls them, yea, and to take
pains to hew them out, than have recourse to
that Fountain of living waters. One main
thing that makes men thus rove and wander
is, that they do not reflect upon their own
course, nor upon themselves, what is the
main end they aim at, and then see whether
their way be suitable to that end. If they
would be happy (as who would not?) then
Surely, things that are empty, and uncertain,
and certainly perishing, will not serve the
turn. And truly, as the thought would be
seasonable at any time, so especially to us in
these times, wherein, beside the common un-
certainty of outward things, there is an ap-
parent visible hazard that men's lives and for-
tunes are likely to be put to. Will you make
advantage and gain of your trouble? Thus:
The looser you find other things tied to you,
and as it were upon a running knot, secure
that one thing, and your portion in it, which
is worth all the rest; yea, far above them all,
and that alone which can be secured, and
made certain. Wanting this, what though
you had peace, and health, and all imagina-
ble prosperity, you would still be miserable,
being liable to the wrath of God, and eternal
destruction. But if once united to Christ, and
in him reconciled to God, and entitled to
heaven, what can fall amiss to you? You
shall have joy in the midst of sorrow and af.
fliction, and peace in the midst of war, yea,
and life in death. But think not to attain this
assurance while you continue profane and
Godless, not seeking it in the way of holiness,
for there alone it is to be found. And withal
beg it of God by humble prayer.
PsALM czix. 136.
Rivers of waters run down mine eyes: because they
keep not thy law.
LovE is the leading passion of the soul: all
the rest follow the measure and motion of it,
as the lower heavens are said to be wheeled
about with the first.
We have here a clear instance of it in the
psalmist, who is testifying his love to God, by
his esteem and love of the law or word of God.
What is each of the several verses of this
Psalm, but a several breathing and vent of
this love, either in itself, or in the causes, or
in the effects of it 2 Where he sets forth the
excellencies and utilities of God's law, there
you have the causes of his love. His observ-
ing and studying of it, his desire to know
it more and observe it better, these are the
effects of his affection to it. The love itself
he often expresseth, ver. 47,48, 113, and 140.
Thy word is pure ; therefore thy servant lov-
eth it. And ver. 127: I love thy command-
ments above gold, yea, above fine gold. But
as scarcely accounting that love which can
be uttered, how much it is, ver, 97, he ex-
presseth it most by intimating that he can
not express it: O, how I love thy law " Hence
are his desires (which are love in pursuit) so
earnest after it. Among many, that is pa-
thetical, verse 20: My soul breaketh for the
longing that it hath unto thy judgment at all
times. Hence, likewise, his joy and delight
(which are love in possession), verse 14: I
have rejoiced in the way of thy testimonies as
much as in all riches ; and Ver. 16, I will de-
light myself in thy statutes ; I will not forget
thy word. We have his hatred of things op-
posite (which is love's antipathy), ver. 113,
I hate vain thoughts, but thy law do I love ;
PsALM czix, 136.]
471
GENEROUS GRIEF.
ver, 163, I hate and abhor lying, but thy law
do I love. And in the 139th verse you shall
find his zeal (wnich is no other than the fire
of love stirred up or blown into a flame), My
zeal hath consumed me ; because mine enemies
have forgotten thy words. And (to omit the
rest) in the i38th verse, his love to the law,
shows its sympathy in sorrow for the viola-
tion of the law : I beheld the trangressors
and was grieved ; because they kept not thy
word. And here you find this grief swelling
to such a height, that it runs over into abun-
dant tears. Rivers of waters run down mine
eyes ; because they keep not thy law.
The words have briefly, these rivers in
their channel and course. They run down
mine eyes ; and then, in their spring and
cause, to wit, the psalmist's sympathy with
God's law broken by men, in the latter clause
of the verse, because they keep not thy law.
But both together clearly teach us, That god-
ty men are affected with deep sorrow for the
sins of the ungodly.
More particularly consider, I. The object
of this affection. II. The nature of it. III.
The degree or measure of it. IV. Its subject.
I. The object is, the transgression of the
law, or, to take it (as in the text) in concreto,
men transgressors of the law : They keep not
thy law. It is true, the whole creation groaneth
under the burden of sin, in the effects of it, as
the Apostle speaks, Rom. viii. 32; but sin
itself is man's enemy, he being that reasona-
ble creature to whom the law was given.
Now in the general it is a matter of grief to
a godly mind to consider the universal de-
pravedness of man's nature ; that he is a
transgressor from the womb ; that the cornal
mind is enmity º: God, not subject to his
law, neither, while it remains such, can it be.
Rom. viii. 6. And this grief will go the
deeper by remembering whence he is fallen.
When he was new come forth of the hands
of his Maker, that image of God which he
stamped upon him shined bright in his soul:
the whole frame of it was regular and comely,
the inferior faculties obeying the higher, and
all of them subject unto God. But how soon
was he seduced, and then what a great change
ensued Quantum mutatus ab illo 1 There
is ever since, such a tumult and confusion in
the soul, that it can not hear the voice of
God’s law, much less obey and keep it.
Hence is that complaint of the psalmist of.
tener than once, They are all gone out of the
way, and become abominable : there is none
that doth good, no, not one. Mundus im-
mundus, ivºuriq Keira, lies buried in it, as the
word is used in the inscription of tombs, v0ače
retra. Look abroad in the world, and what
shall ye see but a sea of wickedness over the
face of the whole, which draws from a godly,
discerning eye that beholds it, these rivers
{ tears 2 The greatest part not knowing
the true God, nor the true religion and the
true way of his worship. And for those that
do, yet, how unlike are they to it in their
lives! The reformed churehes this way, how
unreformed are they in a great part
But more particularly to branch this out a
little in respect to several sorts of men, this
godly grief is a very large sphere; it will ex-
tend to remote people, remote every way, not
only in place but in manners and religion,
even to heathens and gross idolaters. Yea,
the very sins of enemies, and of such as are
professed enemies to God, yet move the ten-
der-hearted Christian to sorrow and compas-
sion. Of whom I now tell you weeping, says
St. Paul, that they are enemies to the cross of
Christ. Phil. iii. 8. Enemies, and yet hespeaks
of them weeping. . . What he writes concern-
ing them, he would have written in tears, if
that had been legible. Thus you see the ea:-
tension of this grief. But yet, out of all
question, it will be more intense in particulars
of nearer concernment. It is the burden of
the pious man’s heart, that his law who
made the world and gives being to all things,
should be so little regarded, and so much
broken through all the world; but yet more
especially, that in his own church, among
his own people, transgression should abound.
Sins within the church are most properly
scandals. God manifest himself (so to speak)
most sensible of those, and therefore the godly
man is so too. Whether they be the con-
tinual enormities of licentious and profane
persons, which are by external profession in
the face of the visible church º indeed
they be in it but as spots and blemishes, as
the apostle speaks; 2 Pet. ii. 13), or whether
it be the apostacy of hypocrites; or (which
sometimes falls out) the gross falls of true
converts; all these are the great grief of the
godly. The relations of men, either natural
or civil, will add something too; this sorrow
will in such cases be greater than ordinary in
a Christian : he will melt it in a particular
tenderness for the sins of his kindred, parents
or children, husband or wife; and most of all,
ministers will grieve for the sins of their
people. How pathetically does this appear
in St. Paul And lest, when I come again,
my God will humble me among you, and that
I shall bewail many which have sinned already,
and have not repented of the uncleanness, and
fornication, and lasciviousness, which they
have committed, 2 Cor. xii. 21. . A man can
not but be more particularly touched with the
sins of that nation, and of that city, and con-
gregation and family, whereof he is a mem-
ber. So we read of Lot, 2 Pet. ii. 8: For that
righteous man dwelling among them, in see-
ing and hearing, veged his righteous soul,
from day to day, with their unlawful deeds.
The sins of more eminent persons, either in
church or commonwealth, will most affect a
prudent Christian, because their inclinations
and actions import the public much. There-
fore the apostle, when he had exhorted to
supplications and prayers for all, men, par-
ticularly mentions kings, and such as are ºn
authority. 1 Tim. i. 2. And truly, when they
472
[SER. WIl.
GENEROUS GRIEF.
are abused by misadvice and corrupt counsel,
some of these tears were very well spent, if
poured forth before God in their behalf: for
in his hand, as that wise king confesseth, are
their hearts, there compared to rivers of
waters ; let their motion be never so impetu-
ous, yet he turneth them whithersoever he
pleaseth. Prov. xxi. 1. And who knows but
these rivers of waters, these tears, may pre-
wail with the Lord to reduce the violent cur-
rent of that river, a king's heart, from the
wrong channel ?
II. But to proceed: the second thing to be
considered in this affection, is, the nature of
it. (1.) It is not a stoical apathy, and affect-
ed carelessness ; much less a delightful par-
taking with sinful practices. (2.) Not a proud
setting off of their own goodness, with mark-
ing the sin of others, as the Pharisee did in
the gospel. (3.) Not the derision and mocking
of the folly of men, with that laughing phil-
osopher: it comes nearer to the temper of
the other who wept always for it. It is not a
bitter, bilious anger, breaking forth into
railings and reproaches, nor an upbraiding
insultation. Nor is it a vindictive desire of
punishment, venting itself in cursings and
imprecations, which is the rash temper of
many, but especially of the vulgar sort. The
disciples' motion to Christ was far different
from that way, and yet he says to them, You
know not of what spirit ye are. They thought
they had been of Elijah's spirit, but he told
them they were mistaken, and did not know
of what spirit they were in that motion. Thus
heady zeal often mistakes and flatters itself.
We find not here a desire of fire to come
down from heaven upon the breakers of the
law, but such a grief as would rather bring
Water to quench it, if it were falling on them.
Rivers of waters run down mine eyes.
III. The degree of this sorrow ; it is vehe-
ment, not a light, transient dislike, but a deep
resentment, such as causeth not some few
Sighs, or some drops of tears, but rivers—
Palge maijim. Pelagus aquarum. It is true,
the measure and degree of sorrow for sin,
whether their own or others, are different in
divers persons, who are yet true mourners;
and they are also different in the same person,
at divers times, not only upon the difference
of the cause, but even where the cause is
equal, upon the different influence and work-
ing of the Spirit of God. Sometimes it
pleaseth him to warm and melt the heart
more abundantly, and so he raises these rivers,
in those eyes, to a higher tide than ordinary;
sometimes they remove again. But yet this
godly Sorrow is always serious and sincere;
and that is the other quality here remarka-
ble in it. . It is not a histrionical weeping,
only in public; for the speech is here direct.
ed to God, as a more frequent witness of these
tears than any other; who is always the
witness of the sincerity of them, even when
they can not be hid from the eyes of men.
For I deny not but they may, and should,
have vent in public, especially at such times
as are set apart for solemn mourning and
humiliation. Yet, even then, usually these
streams run deepest, where they are stillest
and most quietly conveyed. But surely they
should not be fewer and less frequent, alone,
than in company, for that is a little subject to
suspicion. See Jer. ix. 1: Oh, that my head
were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears,
that I might weep day and night for the slain
of the daughter of my people. And, xiii. 17;
But if ye will not hear it, my soul shall weep
in secret places for your pride, and mine eyes
shall weep sore, and run down with tears, be-
cause the Lord's flock is carried away cap-
tive.
IV. The subject of this affection is, not to
the ungodly themselves, who are professed
transgressors of this law; they rather make
a sport of sin, as Solomon speaks; they play
and make themselves merry with it, as the
Philistines did with Samson, till it brings the
house down about their ears; but the godly
are they that are affected with this sorrow,
such as are careful observers of the law them-
selves, and mourn first for their own breach-
es: for these are the only fit mourners for the
transgression of others.
Now to inquire a little into the cause of this,
why the breaking of God's law should cause
such sorrow in the godly, as here breaketh
forth into abundance of tears. We shall find
it very reasonable if we consider, 1. The na-
ture of sin, which is the transgression, or
breach of the law, as the apostle defines it.
2. The nature of this sorrow and these tears.
3. The nature of the godly.
1. Sin is the greatest evil in the world; yea;
truly, in comparison, it alone is worth the
name of evil, and therefore may justly chal-
lenge sorrow, and the greatest sorrow. The
greatest of evils it is, both formally, in that
it alone is the defilement and deformity of the
soul, and casually, being the root whence
all other evils spring ; the fruitful womb that
conceives and brings forth all those miseries
that either man feels, or hath cause to fear.
Whence are all those personal evils incident
to men in their estates, or in their bodies, or
minds, outward turmoils and diseases, and in-
ward discontents, and death itself, in all the
kinds of it ; are they not all the fruits of that .
bitter root ? Whence arise those public mis-
eries of nations and kingdoms, but from the
epidemic national sins of the people, as the
deserving and procuring cause at God's hand,
and withal, oftentimes from the ambitious and
wicked practices of some particular men, as
the working and effecting causes 3 So that
every way, if we follow these evils home to
their original, we shall find it to be sin, or the
breaking of God’s law. Ungodly men, though
they meddle not with public affairs at all,
yea, though they be faithful and honest in
meddling with them, yet, by reason of their
impious lives, are traitors to their nation :
they are truly the incendiaries of states and
PsALM czix. 136.]
473
GENEROUS GRIEF.
kingdoms. And these mourners, though they
can do no more, are the most loyal and most
serviceable subjects, bringing tears to quench
the fire of wrath, rivers of waters. And
therefore sorrow and tears are not only most
due to sin, as the greatest of evils, but they
are best bestowed upon it, if they can do any
thing to its rédress, because that is both the
surest and most compendious way to remedy
all the rest, sin being the source and spring
of them all.
This is the reason why Jeremiah, ch. ix. 1,
when he would weep for the slain of his peo-
ple, is straightway led from that to bewail
the sin of his people, wer. 2, 3. And in his
Book of tears and lamentations, he often re-
duces all these sad evils, to sin as causing
them, particularly ch. v. 16, The crown is fal-
len from our head. Wo unto us, that we have
sinned ' He turns the complaint more to the
sin than to the affliction.
2. Consider the nature of these tears. Tears
spent for worldly crosses, are all lost; they
run all to waste; they are lachrymae inanes,
empty, fruitless things. But tears shed for
the breach of God's law, are the means to
quench God’s wrath. The prayers and tears
of some few, may avert the punishment of
many, yea, of a whole land. And if not so,
yet they are not lost; the mourners them-
selves have always benefit by them : as you
have it in that known place, Ezek. ix.4, they
that mourned for the common abominations
were marked, and the common desolation
took not hold on them. This mourning for
other men's wickedness, both testifies and
preserves the godly man's innocence. I say,
it preserves it, as well as testifies it: it keeps
him from the contagion of that bad air he
lives in ; for without this, sin would soon
grow familiar. It is good for men to keep
up and maintain in their souls a dislike of
sin; for when once it ceaseth to be displeas-
ing to a man, it will, before long, begin to be
pleasing to him.
3. If we consider the nature of the godly,
we shall see this mourning suit with it exceed-
ingly, both in regard of his relation to God,
and to man. God is his father, and therefore
it can not but grieve him much, to see him of.
fended and dishonored. Love to God, and
consequently to his law, and love to men, and
desire of their good, are the spring of these
rivers. A godly man is tender of God's glory
and of his law ; every stroke that it receives,
striketh his heart: and he hath bowels of com-
passion to men, and would be glad if they
were converted and saved. He considers ev-
ery man as his brother, and therefore is sor-
rowful to see him run the hazard of perishing
in sin. The former sympathy, whereby the
godly man tenders the glory of God, is from
his piety : this latter, whereby he pities the
misery of man, is from his charity. And from
these flow the rivers that run down his eyes.
To be too sensible of worldly crosses, and
prodigal of tears upon such slight occasions,
is little better than childish or womanish ;
but these tears that flow from love to God
and grief for sin, have neither uncomeliness
nor excess in them. Abundance of them
will beseem any man who is a Christian. Let
profane men judge it a weakness to weep for
sin, yet, we see David do it. Men of arms
and valor need not fear disparagement by
weeping thus: it is the truest magnanimity,
to be sensible of the point of God's honor,
which is injured by sin.
Again, the consideration of this truth will
discover the world guilty of very much in-
gratitude to godly men. It hath always been
the custom of profane persons, to seek to
brand religion and godliness with disloyalty
and turbulency, and to make it pass for an
enemy to the peace and prosperity of states
and kingdoms. You see clearly with what
affection religion furnishes men toward the
public, causing them to mourn for common
sins, and so to prevent, as far as in them lies,
common calamities. And this is of no little
consequence ; for truly, it is not foreign pow-
er, so much as sin at home, that ruins king-
doms. All the winds that blow without the
earth, be they never so violent, stir it not;
only that which is within its own bowels,
makes an earthquake. It was a grave an-
swer of Epaminondas, being asked what he
was doing solitary and pensive in the time of
solemn mirth and feasting : While my coun-
trymen, said he, are so peaceably feasting, I
am thinking on the best means to preserve that
peace to them that it may continue. Which, a
little altered, is applicable to the godly. They
are oftentimes mourning for the sins and pray-
ing for the peace, of the places where they
live; when in the mean time, the greatest
part are multiplying sin, and so forfeiting
their peace.
Rivers of waters. “This is a mournful,
melancholy life that these Precisians lead,”
says the worldling. Yes, truly, if there were
no more in it than what we can perceive and
judge of. But besides the full joy laid up for
them, and the beginnings of it here, there is
even in this mourning an unknown sweet-
ness and delight. The philosopher says even
of common tears, that there is some kind of
pleasure in them, as some things please the
taste by their very tartness. But of these
tears, they that know them, know it to be
eminently true, that they are pleasant. But
be this exercise as sad as the profane call it,
yet, why observe they not that they them-
selves are much the cause of it? As they
may read here ; Because they keep not God's
law.
But to pass by divers inferences that the
words afford, let us take notice of the dut
here practised, and how much we are all
obliged to the present practice of it. Who
will deny that we have too much matter and
occasions of it 2 Besides the sorrow of Sion,
and particularly the bloodshedding and dis-
tress of our brethren, and our own danger,
474
SER. VII.
GRNEROUS GRIEF.
what corner of the land, what rank or condi-
tion of people is there that abounds not in
gross and heinous violations of God’s law Ż
. They keep not thy law : magistrates and
judges turning judgment into gall and worm-
wood : ministers remiss in that great care,
the care of souls; people wallowing in un-
godliness and uncleanness, Swearing, and other
profaneness; the greater oppressing the less,
and the less defrauding and wronging the
greater; no sensible and notable work of con-
version almost to be seen or heard of among
us; the Lord absenting himself from his ordi-
nances. O that he would dwell in his house,
and fill it with a cloud of his glory !
What vile uncleanness and wantonness |
What shameful drunkenness and excess |
And some are so far from mourning for others’
guiltiness of this sin, that they glory in making
others guilty of it, and count it a pastime to
make others drunk. And this is a far great-
er sin than drunkenness itself; for these men,
while they make beasts of their companions,
make devils of themselves, becoming temp-
ters and provokers to sin. If any such be here,
either tremble at the wo that the prophet Ha-
bakkuk (chap. ii.) denounceth, or confess that
you believe not the scriptures: Wo to him that
gives his neighbor drink, and puts the bottle to
him to make him drunken. The cup of the
Lord's right hand shall be turned to thee: it
is full of heavy vengeance. There is a cup, if
you like it, to pay you home the cups you
give to others.
Again, how is the land filled with oaths
and cursings' How are your streets, and al-
most all companies where a man can come,
defiled, partly with tearing the precious name
of God, partly with calling on the devil
There would be no end of reckoning up all
particulars; sabbath-breaking, fraud and cow-
etousness, pride and malice, and envyings
one of another, and the rest. But the sum is
this, a universal want of the fear of God and
his law.
And the cause of this, is, in a great part,
ignorance of God and of his law. And truly
it is wonderful under so much light and such
plentiful preaching, to find so much dark-
ness, not only in the skirts and remote places,
but even in the prime parts of this land. Mul-
titudes there are that are strangers to the very
principles and fundamentals of that religion
which they profess; and they that have
knowledge are found abusing it, and sinning
against it, continuing in profaneness. And
without this true religion, it is as impossible
to have renewed hearts and lives, as to have
a house without a foundation, or, as we say,
a castle in the air. And this atheism and ig-
norance among people, is in a great part to
be imputed to the corruption and sloth of
ministers. Would to God there were not
many congregations, not altogether destitute,
but such as are freezing under a cold and
lifeless ministry !
You see, then, we want not causes of mourn-
ing and humiliation, on all hands; but our
want is inward, of that due disposition for it,
softness of heart, and that love to God, which
should melt and mollify the heart. Let us
then stir up ourselves and one another, to this
godly sorrow for the sins of the land. There
is need of rivers of tears for these heaps of
sin: as they tell of Hercules' Hetting in a river
to that monstrous stable of Augeus, that could
not otherwise have been cleansed in the time
allotted him.
And truly, as the duty lies upon all the
faithful, the ministers of the word ought to
be most eminent in it, the chief mourners, the
precentors, to take up the tune of these
themes. Joel ii. 17. And all that wish the
good of church and kingdom, ought to bear a
part in them, according to their measure.
Have we not much need to entreat recon-
cilement with God, that he prove not our
enemy 2 Yes, surely, and were we reconcil-
ed with him, we should have little need to
fear the power of man,
Now, they that would be profitable mourn-
ers for others' sins, by all means, must have
these two conditions I mentioned ; to be care-
ful observers of the law themselves, and to
mourn for their own failing and breaking of
it. Now, to the observing of the law, it is ab-
solutely needful (1.) To know and under-
stand it, and that not only in the letter and
surface, but according to the spiritual sense
and meaning of it. For without this knowl-
edge, a man may light upon some duty by
guess, as it were in the dark, bnt observe the
law he can not. They are not alone reprove-
able, who glory in their own sins, and make
sport of the sins of others, but they mistake
it much, who think it enough to consider
their own with grief, and judge the sins of
others an impertinency for them to think on.
As they mourn not aright for others, who be-
gin not at themselves, so they mourn never
aright for themselves, who end in themselves.
He who here thus weeps for others, made his
bed to swim with those rivers for his own sin.
Psalm vi. 6. (2.) As a man must know this
law, so he must be inwardly convinced and
persuaded of the divinity of it, that it is God’s
law. (3.) He must have a deep apprehension
of the majesty and authority of the Lawgiver,
to work reverence, and of his goodness, to be-
get love; and the due mixture of these two
will both strongly command and sweeten
obedience to his commandments. And this
obedience, though it be not an absolute and
perfect fulfilling of any one of the command-
ments, yet it has a respect to them all, as this
Psalm hath it (ver. 6), which is (so to speak)
an imperfect kind of perfection. And from
this respect to the law, which is the observº
ing of it, will flow that other condition, of
grieving when we break it.
And beside all other things that should
make a Christian's own sin grievous to him,
there is one thing can not but move him
much, the consideration of the sorrow and
PsALM crix. 136.]
475
THE NAME OF JESUS FRAGRANT,
sufferings of Christ. To view the bleedings
of the Lord Jesus, can not but pierce a be-
lieving soul, and make it say, “Did my Re-
deemer shed his blood for my sins, and shall
not I myself shed tears for them 3’” I know
the natural constitution of some denies them
tears; but if it do so to any, make up that
want with a sense of inward grief, and it is
well enough. The eye of God can discern
that as well as the other. But truly, where
men have tears for lighter causes (for all
other causes are lighter), and none for this,
they feel not yet the weight of sin; except
that want be through the deepness of sorrow,
which sometimes will stop the current of
tears, though it used to run at other times:
as they say, Curae leves loquuntur, ingentes
stupent. But this is a rare and a happy im-
pediment.
And to answer another doubt: If you find
sometimes worldly griefs stir you more vio-
lently, yet, let this godly sorrow affect you
more constantly, that it may have the advan-
tage in continuance, if it fall short in the de-
gree.
But as this grief must begin at home, as
they say of charity, it must not be so selfish
as to rest there. And truly, where it comes
in that order, it may be some way a stronger
evidence of sincerity to mourn for others’ sins
than to mourn for our own ; for there seems
to be more of God in it, because there is less
in it of ourselves, and of our own particular
interest.
Now you will possibly think it but an un-
pleasant duty that you have heard urged all
this while ; but look forward, and consider
the issue of it. That which Christ speaks in
particular to his disciples, is generally true
of all Christians: Ye shall weep and lament,
but the world shall rejoice ; ye shall be sor-
rowful, but your sorrow shall be turned (or
made) into joy. John xvi. 20. The water of
those tears shall be turned into wine of con-
solation. The traffic of these rivers is gain-
ful ; they export grief, and import joy. When
these tears are called seed, the harvest-crop
is called joy. Psalm crxvi. 5. They that sow
in tears shall reap in joy. They are here
called rivers, and they are answered with a
river, for which they shall in the end be per-
fectly exchanged. Psalm lxxxvi. 8: Thou
shalt make them drink of the rivers of thy
pleasures. And Rev. vii. 17: The Lamb shall
feed them and lead them unto living foun-
tains of waters. Here they run down the
eyes, and water the cheeks, and there you
read that God shall wipe them away from
their eyes. Who would not be content to
weep, to have God wipe away their tears
with his own hand 2 Be ambitious, then, to
be found among the mourners in Sion; and
when ye remove from this valley of tears,
God shall at once fully wipe away all the
stain of sin from your souls, and all tears for
it from your eyes. And as he shall wipe
away the tears with the one hand, he will
nity and plentiful matter of his praises.
set the crown upon your heads with the
other.
smºmºsºmºsºmºsºsmºs
SERMON VIII.
THE NAME OF JESUS FRAGRANT.
Preached after the administration of the Lord's
Supper.
BLESSED are they that dwell in thy house,
saith the psalmist; and he adds this reason,
They will be still praising thee. There is in-
j' always in God’s house, both fit opportu-
But
the greater number of those who frequent his
house, do not dwell in it; their delight and
affection is not there. Therefore they can not
praise him ; they come in as strangers, and
have no skill in the songs of praise. Yea,
and the very children of the family, who wor-
ship in spirit and in truth, find their instru-
ments (their hearts) very often quite out of
tune for praises, and sometimes most of all
when praises are requisite. They find still
such abundant cause of complaint in them-
selves, weighing down their spirits, that they
can hardly at all wind them up to magnify
that God whose mercy is far more abundant.
If we would take a reflex view, and look back
upon our carriage this day in the presence of
our God, who is there among us who would
not find much work for sad thoughts? Would
not one find that he had a hard and stony
heart, another a light, inconstant, wandering
heart to complain of, a third an unbelieving
heart, and some all of these ? And they (if
such there be) who have both deeply sor-
rowed and been largely comforted, will pos-
sibly, for all that, upon former sad experience,
be full of fears and jealousies that this sweet
temper will not be of long continuance ; that
before long, the world, or some lust, will find
or make a way to creep in, and banish those
heavenly thoughts, and trouble that peace
and joy which accompanies them. . Yet not-
withstanding all these causes of grief or fear,
our causes of praise are both more and great-
er. And it is no reason that the sense of our
own evil should prejudge that acknowledg-
ment of God’s goodness; yea, rather it should
stir us up to extol it so much the more. Cease
not to bemoan the evils of your own hearts;
but withal forget not to magnify the riches of
his grace, who hath given himself for you,
and to you. These two will not hinder one
another, but the due intermixture of them
will make a very good harmony. And the
fruit of them will be this, you shall have still
more cause to praise, and less to complain.
When the Lord shall find you humble ac-
knowledgers of his grace, he will delight to
bestow more grace upon you, and will sub-
due those iniquities for you, which you can
not. And though he is pleased to do it but
gradually, by little and little, yet, in the end,
476
[SER. VIII.
THE NAME OF JESUS FRAGRANT.
the conquest shall be full; and then, he who
is the author and the finisher of your faith,
though it is his own work, yet, because it is
done in you, he shall account the victory
yours, as obtained by you, and give you, as
conquerors, the crown of glory. To him that
overcometh, saith he, will I give to sit with
me in my throne. Rev. iii. 21.
There is nothing here, but from free grace.
The courage and strength to fight in this spir-
itual warfare, the victory by fighting, and the
crown by victory, flow all from that fountain.
In all these things we are more than conquer-
ors, saith the apostle—but how 2–through
him that loved us. Therefore, if we desire to
be such, let us humble ourselves before the
throne of grace, entreating both for grace and
glory in the name of Christ our Mediator.
CANT. i. 3.
Because of the savor of thy good ointments, thy
name is as ointment poured forth, therefore do the
virgins love thee.
THE natural workings and desires of things
are agreeable to their being. The beasts, ac-
cording to their sensitive life, seek those things
that tend to the good and preservation of that
life, and affect nothing higher than those, and
they are satisfied. Man (except such men as
are in the lowest stage, and border upon the
beasts) finds nature, even corrupt nature,’
raising him to higher desires and designs.
And yet, of the best of them, the apostle's
maxim holds true, They that are after the
flesh mind the things of the flesh ; and yet,
he subjoins the excellency of some men be-
yond the best naturalist, They that are after
the Spirit, the things of the Spirit. Rom. viii.
5. They can not be confined to things natu-
ral, but are strongly moved toward spiritual
blessings, and toward Christ the sum of them.
And having once tasted of his sweetness, they
can say, Because of the savor of thy good
ointments, thy name is as ointment poured
orth.
"#, that are elevated to a supernatural
being, can admit nothing into competition
with his love: and this it is that lies under
these words, Because of the savor of thy good
ointments, &c.
Numbers have promiscuously been his
guests at this time, and the greatest number
think they came to good purpose. But know,
that you are so far from partaking of Christ
in the Sacrament, that you have not so much
as smelt his perfumes, if you be not strongly
taken with his love. Great are the praises,
and many the duties you owe him for so rich
favors; and therefore, show your good will,
and endeavor some payment. But know, that
none of them are current, except they be
stamped with love. . If you love not, you do
nothing; all your labors and services without
it, are as so many ciphers, they amount to
just nothing. And with it, the meanest of
them will find acceptance.
You have briefly in the words, Christ's love-
liness and the Christian's love, the former the
cause of the latter; both couched under bor-
rowed terms, according to the whole strain
of this allegorical song, on which the true ex-
perimental knowledge of this Divine love is
the best commentary.
In all love, three things are necessary : (1.)
Some goodness in the object, either true and
real, or apparent and seeming to be so ; for
the soul, be it never so evil, can affect noth-
ing but what it takes some way to be good.
(2.) There must be a knowledge of that
goodness; for the most excellent things, if al-
together unknown, affect not. (3.) There
must be a suitableness or agreement of that
good thing with the nature of those who
should affect it; otherwise, indeed, how good
soever it is, it is not good to them.
Now all these we have clearly in this love.
I. The goodness, the excellency of Christ ex-
pressed by precious ointments. II. The man-
ifestation and making of it known, signified
by the pouring forth of his name. III. His
fitness and congruity with them who are here
mentioned under this denomination, virgins ;
such as have the senses of their souls not
stopped with the pollutions of the world, but
pure and active, and therefore, as the apostle
speaks, Heb. v. 14, ea'ercised to discern good
and evil. These three requisites, thus hap-
pily met, must needs produce love: There-
fore the virgins love thee.
I. The excellency of the object: Because of
the savor of thy good ointments. How trüe
is the apostle's word, when he calls Christ
the believer's All things And that radical
grace of faith, because it apprehends Christ,
hath a kind of universality; and it is reasona-
ble, too, it alone being to the soul what all
the five senses are to the body. It is the eye,
and the mouth ; a wonderful eye, it sees him
who is invisible, Heb. xi. 27; the mouth, it
tastes that the Lord is gracious, 1 Peter ii. 3.
Yea, take these two both together in one
place. Psalm xxxiv. 8: O ! taste and see that
the Lord is good. It is the soul's ear; for
what else is meant, when it is said, He that
hath an ear to hear, let him hear 2 And was
it not that touch which Christ took special
notice of, and with good reason distinguished
it from the common touch of the multitude
that was crowding about him 2 That touch
alone draws virtue from him: Some one hath
touched me, for there is virtue gone out of
ne. And lastly, as it is all those other senses,
and Christ is its object in reference to them
all, so here, in its smelling, it finds the Savor
of his fragrant graces, and by that works
love : Because of the savor of thy precious
ointments.
What strange odds is there between the
opinion of Christ's spouse, and that of the
world who know him not They wonder
what she sees in him desirable; she wonders
that they are not all ravished with his excel-
lencies. They prefer the basest vanities in
CANT. i. 3.)
477
THE NAME OF JESUS FRAGRANT.
the world before him : she finds the choicest
and richest things in the world too mean to
resemble the smallest part of his worth. See
in this Song, how busily and skilfully she
goes to all the creatures, and crops the rarest
pieces in nature and art to set forth her well-
beloved, and seems to find them all too poor
for her purpose. One while she extols him
above all things beautiful and pleasant to the
eye ; another while, above things delectable
to the taste, as in the former verse, Thy loves
are better than wine ; and here she prefers
the perfume of his graces to the most precious
ointments.
When a natural eye looks upon the sacra-
ment, to wit, of the Lord's supper, it finds it
a bare and mean kind of ceremony. Take
heed there be not many of you that come to
it, and partake of it with others, who prize it
little, have but low conceits of it, and do in-
deed find as little in it as you look for. But
oh, what precious consolation and grace doth
a believer meet with at this banquet ! How
richly is the table furnished to his eye'
What plentiful varieties employ his hand
and taste, what abundance of rare dainties'
Yet, there is nothing but One here; but that
One is all things to the believing soul. It
finds his love is sweeter than the richest wine
to the taste, or best odors to the smell; and
that delightful word of his, Thy sins are for-
given thee, is the only music to a distressed
COI). SC101) Ce.
Thy good ointments. The holy ointment
of the sanctuary, under the law, was com-
posed according to God's own prescription.
See Exod. xxx. 25. And they were straightly
forbid to imitate it, or make any like it, to
signify the singular holiness, the matchless
worth of the anointing oil of gladness, where-
with our high priest, the Lord Jesus was
anointed above his fellows. And in this he is
incomparable, that his ointment he hath not
from without. It was his own Divine mature
that perfumed his manhood with these pre-
cious ointments. God and the Spirit of the
Lord are said to have anointed him. Psalm
xlv. 7: Thou lovest righteousness and hatest
wickedness ; therefore God, thy God, hath
anointed thee with the oil of gladness above
thy fellows. And Isa. lxi. 1: The Spirit of
the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord
hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto
the meek. But know, that that Spirit and the
Father are one in essence with the eternal
Son. In that mystical song much like to
this, the xlvth Psalm, it is said (ver.-8) his
garments smell of myrrh and aloes and cas-
sia [as he comes forth]..out of [his] ivory pal-
aces. When he came down from his glorious
court above, to dwell among men, he appar-
elled himself like them : he was clothed with
human flesh. But yet, that vesture was so
transcendently enriched with all graces, as
with costly perfumes, that men might easily
know there was more under them than a
mere man. Yea, even in that low estate, did
such beams of his glory shine through, that
all whose eyes were open did clearly behold
them, and know him to be no less than the
the only begotten Son of God, by this, that
he was so full of grace and truth. John i. 14.
And these are, in a word, the precious oint-
ments whose delightful smell is here com-
mended.
Now, to enumerate and describe these gra-
ces, what tongue of men, yea, or of angels,
were sufficient ? What other is the main
subject of the whole Scriptures 2, What mean
all the figures and ceremonies of the law, the
costly furniture and ornaments of the temple,
the right vestments of the High Priest, that
fine linen, that silk and gold, those gems and
precious stones? Was any one of them,
were they all any other than shadows and
dim resemblances of the matchless perfec-
tions of Jesus Chºist Ž It is strange that
Christians have so low conceits of their high
Redeemer ' What is the gospel, but a more
clear and plentiful pouring forth of those
ointments : What was the great labor and
business of the holy apostles, but the diffu-
sing of Christ's graces through the world 2
I determined to know nothing among you,
save Christ, and him crucified, says St. Paul
to his Corinthians. What are that other sac-
rament and this, but coverts under which
Christ conveys himself and his graces to the
believing soul, while the profane and slight-
hearted receivers are sent away with empty
elements? Thus you see how ample a sub-
ject these graces are in the general. And
truly, the consideration of any one particular
of them might be the employment of many
hours. Would you hear of the wisdom of
Christ 2 Look what the apostle says of it,
Col. ii. 3: In him are hid all the treasures of
wisdom and knowledge. Not some drops of wis-
dom, no, nor streams, but a fountain. Not one
treasure, but treasures, many treasures, yea,
all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge;
yet, not obvious to every eye, but, as treasures
are, hid. The children of wisdom, who are the
world's fools, have some knowledge of this his
wisdom, and draw from it for their own use;
but to sound the depth of it, who can be able !
No less admirable is his holiness. He is
both the immaculate Lamb, and the undefiled
Sacrifice. Such a high priest became us.
Heb. vii. 26. Became us ! Yes, holy, harm-
less and undefiled: the more we were defiled
with sin, the more stood we in need of an un-
defiled and spotless High Priest. It was as
-expedient that he should be unlike us in that,
as that he should be like us in all other
things. Therefore, as for the legal priest-
hood there was a holy consecrating oil, so
this immortal High Priest was anointed with
most entire and complete holiness. And this
perfect holiness of his, is set forth as myrrh,
the best ointments and spices—myrrh which
is of a virtue preservative from corruption.
He was not only of excellent smell, while he
lived among men, but this myrrh did like-
478
\SER. VIII.
THE NAME OF JESUS FRAGRANT.
wise preserve and exempt him from contract-
ing any corruption or pollution, by the bad
air of sinful company; so that he conversed
with sinners, that he might convert them,
without any danger of infection.
And as he was thus extraordinarily anoint-
ed with the spirit of wisdom and holiness, so
likewise with the spirit of meekness ; there-
fore he is called The Lamb of God, that ta-
keth away the sins of the world. His voice
was not heard in the streets. Matt. xii. 19.
And take in that other grace which he him-
self mentions together with his meekness, as
being near in nature to it, humility: Learn
of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart.
Matt. xi. 29. Indeed, humility is an odorif.
erous grace : it is a gracing grace, it adds a
kind of sweetness and lustre to all other gra-
ces; yea, it serves singularly as a character
for the trial of the truth ºf all other graces.
As balsam, which is the chief of precious
ointments, used to be tried ; that is the truest
and best, which, put into any liquor, goes to
the bottom; that but slight, which swims
above; so those graces are most upright,
that are accompanied with most humility.
And that this may be out of doubt, you know
that Jesus Christ (of whom we now speak),
as he had most grace, so was he most exem-
plary in humility. And certainly, the sweet
smell of this good ointment did fill the whole
house, when he washed his disciples’ feet;
as is said of the ointment that Mary poured
upon his feet, in the foregoing chapter.
John xii. 3.
Among many other of his gracious quali-
ties that might be mentioned, there is one we
can not but take particular notice of, his love ;
the rather, because the fragrant smell of his
graces is here said to beget love. Now you
know that one of the strongest attractives of
love, is love. Epws Épora, Tikret: Magnes um-
oris amor. What made him empty himself
of his glory, as the apostle speaks, but be-
cause he was full of love? What made him
take on the form of a servant, suffer heat,
and cold, and hunger, and poverty, but love?
What other was it made him digest the per-
secutions, revilings, and the contradiction of
sinners, but love 2 But the great wonder of
his love is this, he died to become our life.
Who hath loved me, and given himself for me,
says the great apostle St. Paul. Gal. ii. 20.
And, Hereby perceive we the love of God, be-
cause he laid down his life for us, says the
beloved apostle St. John. 1 John iii. 16. Was
it the nails that held him fast to the cross,
when they tauntingly bade him come down 2
No ; it was his love, that was stronger than
death. But all this was nothing to the angry
countenance of his Father, nor would he ever
have ventured upon that, if infinite love had
not persuaded him. . No wonder if the apos-
tle call it a love that passeth knowledge.
That you may know, saith he, the love of
Christ which passeth knowledge. Eph. iii. 19.
Know it we may, and should, but we must
know withal, that we can not know it fully.
And this is our comfort, that it is greater
than we can comprehend; for if it were not
so, it would be less than we stand in need of.
So much of his love we may understand, as
may abundantly inflame our hearts with love
to him. For this purpose hath he revealed it,
and made his name like an ointment poured
out. And that is the second thing.
II. His name. That is, the report and
manifestation of his excellencies. And if you
will take it properly of his name, Jesus, and
Christ, or the Messiah, it is true of them, for
they are significative of these excellencies.
Ask an afflicted conscience, if Jesus, that is, a
Savior, be not a precious word that hath a
sovereign value, both a refreshing smell and
a healing virtue. The hammer of the law
may break a stony heart in pieces, but it is
only the blood of Jesus that can soften it.
And where it is effectually poured, either
upon a wounded soul, it heals it, or upon a
hard heart, it mollifies it. For that other
name, Christ, well may it be called an oint-
ment poured out, for it signifies his anointing.
And that the sweet savor of this name may
affect, read but that one passage, Isa. lxi. 1.
The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, be-
cause the Lord hath anointed me to preach
good tidings unto the meek, &c. What ines-
timable riches of consolation are there in
each of those effects to which Christ was
anointed And yet, we find not a word
among them all for a proud, stiff-necked sin-
ner. Here are good tidings, but it is to the
meek ; comfortable binding up, but it is for
the broken-hearted ; liberty, but it is for cap-
tives and prisoners groaning under their
chains, and desirous to be delivered ; not for
such as delight in their bondage. There is
oil of joy and garments of praise, but they
are provided for mourning, dejected spirits
that need them; not for the impenitent. On
the contrary, there is a terrible word inter-
jected in the midst of these promises. The
day of vengeance of our God ; and that is
the portion of Christ's enemies, and such are
all incorrigible sinners.
Thus it is, at the same banquet from which
you come, one may be filled with spiritual
joy, and the very person that sits next may
be filled with a secret curse, and return more
miserable than he came. But let the discon-
solate, lamenting sinner lift up his head, and
behold Christ, the Son of God, anointed a
prophet to preach salvation and liberty to
such, a priest to purchase it, and a king, to
give it. e * * * g.
Now, the pouring out of his name is divers.
Before the coming of the Messiah, his name
was poured out in prophecies and promises,
in types and legal ceremonies; but more fully
when the Word was made flesh. Then an-
gels, and holy men, yea, and women, spake
clearly of him. What was his Father's voice
at his baptism, the Holy Ghost’s descending,
what was his own preaching, and miracles,
CANT. i. 3..]
479
THE NAME OF JESUS FRAGRANT.
and conversation, but all the pouring forth of
his precious name 2 And in his sufferings
and death, what think you? Was not his
name then poured forth, yea, his blood with
it 3. Yes, truly: being extended on the cross,
and his body pierced in divers places, his pre-
cious ointments were shed abroad toward all
the quarters of the world: their smell reach-
ed both heaven and the visible earth. God
the Father, as he was said to do in Noah's
sacrifice, did much more smell in his sacri-
fice, a savor of rest, appeasing his wrath ;
and all believers a savor of peace, a quieting
of their consciences. And as aromatic spi-
ces, when they are pounded out and beaten,
send forth their sweet smells most liberally,
So, in these his sufferings, did the obedience,
patience, and love, and all the graces, and the
name of our Savior, most clearly manifest
themselves to the world. After he was dead,
they embalmed his body, but they knew not
that his own virtue would do more than all
the ointments and spices in the world could
do, not only by preserving his body from cor-
ruption, but by raising it the third day. And
truly, after his resurrection, his own disciples
knew his name better than ever before ; and
#. more fully after his ascension, when the
oly Ghost came down upon them ; which
was poured from heaven on them for this
very end; that they might pour forth Christ's
name to the ends of the earth. Acts ii. 8. And
they did so carrying this precious treasure in
earthern vessels, as that elect vessel St. Paul
speaks, 1 Cor. iv. 7. And ever since, God
hath continued the pouring forth of his name,
by the ministry and preaching of the gospel.
It is true, there are too many of those that
are employed in this work, who seek them-
selves, and their own ends, rather than his
glory whom they preach. And they that are
more upright, the very best of them are sin-
ful men. But how mean and unworthy so-
ever they be, despise not the gospel. Let
the sweet name which they pour forth, pre-
vail for itself, that so you may reverence and
love it, if you would have salvation by it;
and there is no other name under heaven, by
which that can be obtained.
As this name is poured forth in the gospel
preached, so, in the sacraments annexed to it;
and particularly in this, when the bread is
broken, and the wine poured out. And was
not this the earnest desire of the receivers of
it this day—it should have been—to have our
share in it, for the refreshment and curing of
our souls 2 Nor shall any that came thus,
be disappointed. And if not immediately,
yet, most certainly, and that in due time,
they shall find the sweet fruits of it.
You have heard many ways how the name
of Christ is poured out, yet there is one more,
without which all the rest are ineffectual ; it
is this, the secret and powerful working of
the Spirit of God in the soul. The ordinances
and means of salvation do indeed pour forth
the name of Christ round about a man, but
till the Spirit concur with them, not one drop
falls within the soul. And is he not so much
the more miserable, who hears much of Christ,
and partakes nothing of him 2 Yes, surely. A
man may have much common knowledge of
Christ, and may understand well, yea, may
preach well, concerning his worth and graces,
and yet not love him. But there is a particu-
lar knowledge of him by the infusion of the
Spirit, and where the smallest measure of
this is, it presently wins the affection. There
is a shedding abroad of the love of God in our
hearts, that the apostles speaks of, Rom. v. 5;
and this draws us after him ; for our love to
God is nothing else but the reflection of his
love to us. So then, though many hear of
Christ, yet, because there are but few that
have this special knowledge of him, there-
fore it is, that so few do truly esteem him and
love him; and they are such as are here call-
ed Virgins: and that is the third thing.
III. The correspondence in the character
of those who love Christ: . The virgins.
Similitude and conformity of nature beget
friendship : pure affections delight in a pure
object, and it makes them such. For the
truth is, Christ doth not find men naturally
suitable to himself, but as he took on our na-
ture, so he washeth away the sinfulness of
our nature, which he took not on, and makes
us that way conformable to his nature. And
they who are so changed, though they were
formerly lovers of sin, yet, by conversion,
which is called regeneration, they are born
again, and so become not only chaste, but
even virgins, spiritually. For by virgins,
here, are not meant such as Romish votaries
fancy them to be: no, this virginity may well
consist with any lawful state of life.
These virgins are such as be truly holy and
pure in heart and life, who, though they are
not perfectly free from all sin, yet have affec-
tion to no sin. These are singularly delight-
ed with the smell of Christ's name and graces,
while the voluptuous person, and the profane
worldling, dislike and despise it! Balsama sic
suibus, sic male nardus olent. The virgins,
they bestow their affection whole and entire
upon Christ.
How grossly do you delude yourselves, who
make your hearts dens of pride, filthy lust,
malice and envy, and thousands of vanities,
and yet think to find a corner in them to lodge
Christ too ! Truly, you would both straiten
him in room, and give him very bad neigh-
bors. No ; they that think not a whole heart
too little for him, shall never enjoy him.
The virgins love thee..] Grace destroys not
the *::: passions of the soul, but corrects
them only, by destroying their corruption, and
so they become not merely not contrary to
grace, but are made the subject and seat of
grace. This of love, which is the chief of them,
we see, it abolisheth not, but rectifies it, recal-
ling it to its due object, and turning it into the
right channel, by which it may empty itself
into the ocean of goodness.
480
[SER. WIII.
THE NAME of JESUS FRAGRANT.
And this love may well consist with the
purity of virgins; yea, it is this love that puri-
fies and makes them such. The virgins love
—But whom ? Thee. And it is as reasonable
a love as it is pure ; Therefore they love thee,
because thou hast made them in some meas-
ure apprehensive of thy worth, which com-
mands the love of all that know it: not a cold
and indifferent affection, but a superlative,
ardent love, far overtopping all their other
desires. And with good reason, since Christ
doth infinitely, and beyond all comparison,
surpass all other things desirable. Ask your
own hearts, if you love Christ thus: for if not
thus, you love him not at all. The Apostle
St. Paul’s love was of this size. Phil. iii. 7, 8.
But what things were gain to me, those I count-
ed loss for Christ ; yea, doubtless and I count
all things but loss, for the earcellency of the
knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom
I have suffered the loss of all things, and do
count them but dung that I may win Christ.
This love will not only undergo difficulties and
sufferings for Christ without either repining
or fainting, but it will even be glad to meet
with them, as opportunity is, to exercise and
testify itself. Hard things will seem most
easy for his sake, and bitter things exceeding
sweet. In a word, to him that loves, scarce
anything is impossible. Love is the leading
passion of the soul : all the rest conform them-
selves to it, desire, and hope, and fear, and
joy, and sorrow.
If, then, you love Christ, the desires and
breathings of your soul after him are strong
and earnest. If he withdraw himself, or ap-
pear angry, if either you see him not, or see
him look discontented, your grief will be so
deep that it can not be allayed by any worldly
employment. Yet, upon some former tokens
of his love, which is known to be unchangea-
ble, hope will uphold the soul, till the beams
of his grace scatter the cloud, and break
through. Though our Joseph seem strange,
and speak roughly for awhile, he can not long
refrain discovering his affection.
Again, love you him, unspeakable will be
your joy when he smiles upon you. As great
will be your delight in possession, as your
desire is in pursuit; and while you have his
presence, it will be too hard a task for any
affliction to dismay you. Have you indeed
heard Christ speak comfortably to you this
day at his holy table? How will this enable
the soul, and arm it against dangers, and dis-
tracting, distrustful fears! Perfect love casteth
out fear, saith St. John : 1 John iv. 18: that
is, all base and servile fear; but there is one
fear that is in no heart but where love begets
it, fear to offend. You know how wary and
loath men are naturally to displease those they
love; therefore it is, that love to Christ, and
a careful observing of his commandments, are
inseparable companions. Yea, love itself is
the fulfilling of the law, for it gives up the
heart to God, and consequently the whole
man. Then there is no return of duty which
your receiving of Christ calls for (and what
doth it not call for) 3 there is none, I say, but
is comprised under this one of love. Do you
owe him praises 2 Yes, surely. Then love
him ; that will stir you up to praise him.
You never knew, but where much love was
in the heart, it made the tongue ready and
active upon all occasions to praise the party
loved. Love will entertain small courtesies
with great thanks; much more where the
benefit so far exceeds all possible thankfulness.
Ought you to serve and obey him 2 Doubt-
less: he hath for that purpose redeemed you
with his precious blood. And truly there is
no obedience or service so full and so cheer-
ful, as that which flows from love. Should
you study conformity to Christ, and labor to
be like him 2 Yes, for this is to walk worthy
of Christ. Then there is nothing assimilates
to much as love. Men delight in their society
whom they love, and by their society they do
insensibly contract their customs, and become
like them. These Wirgins who love Christ
for his graces, they love to converse with
him, and by conversing with him, they re-
ceive of his graces, and have a smell of his
perfumes. Not only do they, by the smell
of his garments, or such imposed rites, obtain
the blessing, but they likewise smell like him
by the participation of sanctifying grace, of
his wisdom and holiness, in a pure and godly
conversation, abstaining from the impure
lusts and pollutions of the world ; so likewise
of his meekness and humility. Never think
that one and the same soul can have much
pride and much of Christ. Ever, the more
race a man hath, the more sense hath he
ikewise of his own unworthiness, and God's
free mercy, and consequently the more hu-
mility.
If you love Christ, you can not choose but
be like him in love to your brethren. This
is expressly compared by the psalmist to the
precious ointment poured upon Aaron's head,
that ran down to the very skirts of his gar-
ments. Psal. cxxxiii. 2. Our Head and High
Priest, the Lord Jesus, hath incomparably
testified his love to believers, whom he is
pleased to call his brethren. They are far
from equalling him, either in love to him, or
in love one to another, but they do imitate
him in both. This is his great command-
ment, that we love one another, even as he
loved us, which is expressed both as a strong
motive and a high example. It is not possi-
ble that a spirit of malice and implacable
hatred can consist with the love of Christ.
Finally, Should you be ready to suffer for
Christ 2 Yes. Then love is that which will
enable you ; and if you were inflamed with
this fire then, though burned for him, that
fire would only consume your dross, and be
soon extinguished ; but this would endure
for ever.
By these and the like evidences, try wheth-
er you indeed love the Lord Jesus Christ.
And by these fruits, you who profess to love
RoM. viii. 7.]
481
THE SINNER A REBEL AGAINST GOD.
him, testify the sincerity of your love ; and
be assured, that if you be now found among
these virgins that love him, you shall one
day be of the number of those virgins that
are spoken of Rev. xiv. 3, 4, who sing a new
song before the throne of God.
If you hate the defilements of the world,
and be not polluted with inordinate affection
to the creature, it shall never repent you to
have made choice of Christ. He shall fill
your hearts with peace and joy in believing.
When you come to his house and table, he
shall send you home with joy and sweet con-
solation, such as you would not exchange for
crowns and sceptres. And after some few of
these running banquets here below, you shall
enter into the great marriage-supper of the
Lamb, where faith shall end in sight, and
hope in possession, and love continue in per-
petual and full enjoyment; where you shall
be never weary, but for ever happy in be-
holding the face of the Blessed Trinity: to
whom be glory. Amen.
SERMON IX.
THE SINNER A REBEL, AGAINST GOD,
How true is that word of our Savior, who
is truth itself, Without me, we can do noth-
ing :-severed from me, as that branch that
is not in me. They who are altogether out
of Christ, in spiritual exercises do nothing at
all. 'Tis true, they may pray and hear the
word, yea, and preach it too, and yet in so
doing they do nothing, nothing in effect.
They have the matter of good actions, but
it is the internal form gives being to things.
They are but a number of empty words and
a dead service to a living God. For all our
outward performances and worship of the
body are nothing but the body of worship,
and therefore nothing but a carcass, except
the Lord Jesus by his Spirit, breathe upon it
the breath of life. Yea, the worshipper him-
self is spiritually dead till he receive life
from Jesus, and be quickened by his Spirit.
If this be true, then it will follow necessari-
ly, that where numbers are met together (as
here), pretending to serve and worship God,
yet he hath very few that do so indeed, the
greatest part being out of Christ; and such
being without him, they can do nothing in
his service.
Romans viii. 7.
Because the carnal mind is enmity against God; for
it is º subject to the law of God, neither indeed
Can be.
THE ordinary workings and actions of crea-
tures are suitable to their nature, as the as-
cending of light things, and the moving of
heavy things downward; so, the vital and
Sensitive actions of things that have life and
sense. The reasonable creature, it is true,
hath more liberty in its actions, freely choos-
ing one thing and rejecting another; yet it
can not be denied, that in the acting of that
liberty, their choice and refusal follow the
sway of their nature and condition. As the
angels and glorified souls, their nature being
perfectly holy, and unalterably such, they
can not sin, they can delight in nothing but
in obeying and praising that God, in the en-
joyment of whom their happiness consisteth,
still ravished in beholding his face. The
Saints, again, that have not yet reached that
home, and are but on their journey, they are
not fully defecated and refined from the dross
of sim: there are in them two parties, nat-
ural corruption, and supernatural grace ;
and these keep a struggling within them.
But the younger shall supplant the elder:
grace shall in the end overcome ; and in the
meanwhile, though it be not free from mix-
ture, yet it is predominant. The main bent
of a renewed man, is, obedience and holi-
ness, and any action of that kind he rejoices
in ; but the sin that escapes him, he can not
look upon but with regret and discontent.
But alas ! they that be so minded, are very
thin sown in the world. Even in God’s pe-
culiar fields, where the laborage of the gos-
pel is, and the outward profession of true re-
ligion unanimously received, yet, the num-
ber of true converts, spiritual-minded per-
sons, is very small ; the greatest part acting
sin with delight, and taking pleasure in un-
righteousness, living in disobedience to God,
as in their proper element; and the reason
is, the contrariety of their nature to our holy
Lord. The carnal mind is enmity against
God.
The mind, ºpovnna. Some render it the pru-
dence or wisdom of the flesh. Here you have
it the carnal mind. But the word signifies,
indeed, an act of the mind, rather than ei-
ther the faculty itself, or the habit of prus
dence in it, so as it discovers what is the
frame of both these, the minding ; as it is
used, ver. 5, conformably to that of Moses,
Gen. vi., Every imagination of the thoughts
of man's heart is only evil continually. The
word indeed signifies the wise thoughts. So
then, take the full latitude of it thus: The
carnal mind, in its best and wisest thoughts,
is direct enmity against God. .
Carnal [ris Japko...] What is meant by the
flesh here 2. It is the whole corrupt nature.
of man; and that we may know by its oppo-
sition to the Spirit: not to the spirit or souk
of a man, for so it hath no thoughts nor
minding, these being proper to the soul, but
opposed to the Spirit of God.
Now, the corruption of nature is called the
flesh, not without very good reason, not only
to signify the baseness of it, the flesh being.
the more ignoble and meaner part of a man,
but because the greatest part of the sins of
men's lives, are about sensitive objects and
things that concern the flesh or the body. It
61
482
[SER. IX.
THE SINNER A REBEL AGAINST GOD.
lets in temptation of sin to the soul by the
doors of the senses, and it gives the last per-
fection or accomplishment to sin, by the ex-
ternal acting of it. The very first sin, that
brought in death and misery with it upon
mankind, the pleasures of the eye and of the
taste, were sharers in the guiltiness of it.
The carnal mind.] Man in regard of his
composition, is, as it were, the tie and band
of heaven and earth : they meet and are mar-
ried in him. A body he has taken out of the
dust, but a soul is breathed into him from
heaven, from the Father of Spirits : a house
of clay, but a guest of most noble extraction.
But the pity is, it hath forgot its original, and
is so drowned in flesh, that it deserves no other
than to go under the name of flesh. It is be-
come the slave and drudge of the body, and
like the Israelites in Egypt, made perpetual-
ly to moil in clay. What is all your mer-
chandise, your trades and manufactures, your
tillage and husbandry, but all for the body,
in its behalf, for food and raiment 2 In all
these, the mind must be careful and thought-
ful, and yet properly they reach it not, for it-
self hath no interest in them. It is true, the
necessity of the body requires much of these
things, and superfluous custom far more; but
it is lamentable that men force their soul to
forget itself and its proper business, to at-
tend to these things only, and be busy in
them. They spend all their time, and their
choicest pains, upon perishing things, and
which is worse, engage their affections to
them. They mind earthly things, whose end
is destruction. Phil. iii. 18:—the same word
is here, povmpa ris capkos.
Will you consider seriously, that your souls
run the hazard of perishing, because you
consider not their spiritual nature ? When
that earthly tabernacle of yours shall fall to
the ground (and ere long it must), your souls
must then enter eternity, and though you had
as large a share of earthly things as your
earthly hearts now would wish, they will all
lose their use in that moment. They are not
a proper good for the soul at any time, and
least at that time. If you keep it, all your
life long, busy about the interest and benefit
of the flesh, the body, how poor will it be
when they part, having provided nothing at
all for itself, but the guiltiness of a sinful
life, which will sink it into that bottomless
pit Beforewarned then : For to be carnal-
ly minded is death. Ver. 6, preceding the text.
The carnal mind. Now, as sin hath de-
based and degenerated the soul of man, ma-
king it carnal, so, the Son of God, by taking
On our nature, hath sublimated it again, and
made it spiritual. The souls that receive
Him are spiritualized : yea, as sin made the
Soul carnal, grace makes the very body to
become spiritual, making it partaker and co-
worker in spiritual things together with the
soul, in doing and suffering, and participant
of the hopes, too, of an everlasting reward.
This is the main Christian character our
apostle gives here, that they are spiritually
minded, and that their actions suit their
minds: They walk not after the flesh, but af.
ter the Spirit. Whereas before, with the
rest of the world, they were eager in the pur-
suit of honors, and profits, and worldly plea-
sures, the new stream of their desires runs
in another channel. They seek after honor,
and are very ambitious of it; but it is such
honor the apostie speaks of in this epistle,
chap. ii. 7. By patient continuance in well
doing they seek for glory, and honor, and
immortality. Their mind is upon profit and
gain; but it is with the same apostle, Phil.
iii. 8, that they may win Christ, and they ac-
count all other things loss in comparison.
And their desires are after pleasure too, but
not carnal pleasures ; these are both base,
and of short continuance, but the pleasures
they aim at, are those that are at God's
right hand, and for evermore, Psalm xvi. 11;
and that path of life which the psalmist there
speaks of, that way of holiness which leads
thither, is their delight. Spiritual exercises
they go to, not as their task only, but more
as their joy and refreshment. And this
change the Spirit of God works in the soul,
making it, yea, and the body wherein it
dwells, of carnal, to become spiritual : as
fire, to which the Holy Ghost is compared,
refines sand and ashes, and makes of them
the purest glass, which is so meat and trans-
parent.
Enmity against God..] . Sin hath not only
made us unlike God, by defacing his beau-
tiful image in us, not only strangers, by
making us wander far off from him, but ene-
mies; nor enemies only, but enmity in the
abstract; for that is emphatical, The carnal
mind is enmity, nothing else but enmity.
Now, this enmity is described in the latter
clause of the text, by an antipathy, so to call
it, or non-compliance with the law of God:
It is not subject to the law of God, neither
can it be, to wit, while it remains such. There
is an absolute impossibity in it, to suit with
the law of God, and consequently with God
himself. The reason lies in their opposite
qualities. God is spiritual and holy, and so
is the law, as our apostle hath it in the pre-
ceding chapter; and the opposition he there
makes between his unregenerate part and
the law, is wholly true of the unregenerate
man. The law is holy, says he, ver. 12 and
14, The law is spiritual : to which too he
opposes, But I am carnal, sold under sin.
Where are now those who so vilify grace
and magnify nature ? Or, shall I rather say,
nullify grace and deify nature ? Here is the
best eulogy the apostle will bestow upon the
best of natures, Enmity against God. Nay,
all the sparkles of virtue and moral goodness
in civil men and ancient heathens are no bet-
ter; beside many other things to be said of
the virtues of those philosophers, as ignorance
of Christ, by whom alone this enmity is re-
moved.
RoM. viii. 7.]
483
THE SINNER A REBEL AGAINST GOD.
I should easily confess, nor, I think, can any
deny it, that there is, in the very ruins of our
nature, some character left of a tendency to
God as our chief and only satisfying good,
which we may call a kind of love, and when
we hear him spoken of, we find it flutter and
stir; and hence men so abhor the imputation
of hating God and being his enemies. Yet
this is so smothered under sensuality and
flesh, that until we be made spiritual, nothing
appears but practical and (as they call it) in-
terpretative enmity.
There is one thing which stains them
enough ; they were all, as that Father speaks,
animalia gloride: they aimed not, in their
study of virtue, at God's glory, but at their
own ; and is not that quarrel enough, and mat-
ter of enmity ? Says not he, My glory I will
not give unto another ?
But that is most useful to you, to convince
you of that too good conceit which men have
of their natural condition. You would take
it hardly, the most profane of you all, if any
should come to you in particular, and tell you,
you are an enemy to God ; but I answer, there
is none of you, if you believe the Scriptures,
but will confess that all men are naturally
such, and therefore, except we find in our-
selves a notable alteration from the condition
of nature, we must take with it, that we are
enemies, yea, enmity to God. Of strangers,
to become acquainted with him, yea, which
is more, of enemies to become friends, is a
greater and more remarkable change, than to
be incident to a man without any evidence
and sign of it. I know there is very great va-
riety in the way and manner of conversion ;
and to some, especially if it be in their tender
years, grace may be instilled and dropped in,
as it were, insensibly. But this I may confi-
dently say, that whatsoever be the way of
working it, there will be a wide and apparent
difference between friendship with God, and
the condition of nature, which is enmity
against him. Do not flatter yourselves. So
long as your minds remain carnal, ardent in
love to the world, and cold in love to God,
lovers of pleasures more than of God (as the
apostle speaks), you are his enemies, for with
him there is no neutrality. That which they
say, taxing it as a weakness in the sex, Aut
amat, aut odit, nihil est tertium, is in this
case necessarily true of all. And this is God’s
prerogative, that he can judge infallibly of
the inside. Those shadows of friendship men
use one with another, will not pass with him.
Deceived he can not be, but men may easily ;
and, alas ! too many do deceive themselves
in this matter, to their own ruin.
... We may learn hence, how deep sin goes
into our nature, and consequently, that the
cure and remedy of it must go as deep; that
all the parts of our bodies and all the powers
of our souls are polluted originally, our very
mind and conscience, as the apostle speaks,
for it is immersed in flesh, and enslaved to
flesh naturally, and therefore it goes under its
name. We are become all flesh ; that is the
spring of our mischiefs. We have lost our
likeness to our Father, the Father of Spirits,
the purest and most spiritual Spirit, till renew-
ed by participation of his Spirit in our flesh.
And it is the error, not only of natural men,
but somewhat of the godly too, that in self-
reformation they set themselves against ac-
tual sin, but they lay not the axe to the root
of the tree, this root of bitterness, this our in-
bred and natural enmity against God; and till
this be done, the lopping off of some branches
will do no good; while the root is in vigor,
those will grow again, and possibly faster than
before. Bewail every known act of sin, as
much as you can, for the least of them de-
serves it ; but withal, let the consideration of
them lead you into thoughts of this seed of
rebellion, the wickedness of our nature, that
takes life with us in the womb, and springs
and grows up with us, and this will humble
us exceedingly, and raise our godly sorrow to
a higher tide. We find David taketh this
course in the fifty-first Psalm ; where he is la-
menting his particular sin of adultery and
murder, it leads him to the sinfulness of his
nature, I was shapen in iniquity, and in sin
did my mother conceive me [or, warm me];
which he mentions, not to extenuate and di-
minish his sin; no, he is there very far from
that strain, but adds it as a main aggravation.
Indeed the power of original sin in the regen-
erate is laid very low, yet is it not altogether
extinct, which they find often to their grief,
and this makes them cry out with our apos-
tle, in the former chapter, O wretched man
that I am, who shall deliver me from this body
of death / The converted are already delive
ered (as he there adds) from the dominion of
it, but not from the molestation and trouble
of it. Though it is not a quiet and uncon-
trolled master, as it was before, yet it is in
the house still, as an unruly servant or slave,
ever vexing and annoying them ; and this
body of death they shall have still cause to
bewail, till death release them. This lepro-
sy hath taken so deep root in the walls of
this house, that it can not perfectly be cleansed
till it be taken down ; and it is this, more than
any other sorrows or afflictions of life, that
makes the godly man not only content to die,
but desirous, longing, with our apostle, to be dis-
solved, and be with Christ, which is far better.
As this teaches us the misery of man’s na-
ture, so it sets off and commends exceedingly
the riches of God’s grace. Are men natural-
ly his enemies 2 Why then admire, first, his
patience and bounty a little, and then we will
speak of his saving grace. Could not he very
easily ease himself of his adversaries, as he
says by the prophet? Isa. i. 24. Wants he
power in his right hand to find out and cut
off all his enemies? Surely no. . Not only he
hath power to destroy them all in a moment,
but the very withdrawing of his hand, that
upholds their being (though they consider it
not), would make them fall to nothing. Yet
484 THE TRUE
CHRISTIAN, [SER. X.
is he pleased not only to spare transgressors,
but to give them many outward blessings,
rain, and fruitful seasons, as the apostle
speaks, Acts xiv. 17. And the earth which
is so full of man's rebellion, is yet more full
of God's goodness: The earth is full of thy
goodness, says the psalmist. It is remarka-
ble that that same reason which is given, Gen.
vi. 5, of the justice of God in drowning the
world, is, in chapter viii. 21, rendered as the
reason of God’s resolved patience ever since :
And the Lord said, I will not curse the ground
any more for man's sake : for the imagination
of man's heart is evil from his youth.
Then consider his grace, in finding a way
of reconcilement, and not sparing his own
Son, his only begotten Son, to accomplish it.
Nor did the Son spare himself. O matchless
love to lay down his life, not for friends, but
for strangers; not only so, but enemies, for
unrighteous and ungodly persons, such as be
at enmity against him. Romans v. 7, 8. And
having done this, he sends his word, the mes-
sage of reconciliation, to rebels, and sends his
Spirit into the hearts of those whom he hath
appointed to salvation, to change their spirits,
that they perish not in disobedience: he brings
them near who were far off, having slain this
enmity by the death of his Son.
As many of you, then, as have hitherto
heard this message of reconciliation in vain,
be persuaded at last to give ear to it. This is
all that God’s ambassadors require, accord-
ing to their instructions from himself, that
men would lay down their enmity against
him, and not be so foolish as wilfully to
perish in it: We pray you in Christ's stead,
be ye reconciled to God. 2 Cor. v. 20.
Consider that this enmity is, 1st, unjust,
2dly, unhappy. (1.) Unjust it is, being against
him who is the chief object of love, who is
altogether goodness, both in himself and tow-
ard his creatures. It is too much not to love
him with most ardent and superlative affec-
tion ; but to entertain enmity against him is
madness. As it was said to one who asked,
“Why are the beautiful loved ?”—“It is a
blind man’s question ;” certainly we are blind
if we see not cause enough, not only to desist
from enmity, but to be inflamed with his love.
One glance of his amiable countenance is suf-
ficient to cause the most rebellious heart to
yield, and lay down arms, and for ever, de-
vote itself to his services. No, we know him
not, and therefore it is we hold out against
him. Is he not the living spring of all our
comforts? Have we not from him life, and
breath, and all things 2 And is he not ready
to forgive iniquity, transgression, and sin 3
Let mercy melt our hearts to him, those sweet
rays of love. Let his loving kindness over-
come these stubborn hearts and spirits of ours.
Among enemies, the weaker usually seeks
first for peace, but here it is the Mighty; Al-
mighty God comes to entreat agreement with
sinful clay.
(2.) But if this prevail not, then think how
unhappy this enmity is. You who are so afraid
of men, and those weak men, of men like
yourselves, whose breath is in their mostrils,
will ye not tremble at his power, and be afraid
to continue on terms of hostility against him
who is the Lord of hosts, who hath power
both over soul and body, to kill both and cast
them into hell ? What is the stoutest of men,
but as stubble to the flame of his wrath 2
Our God is a consuming fire. Heb. xii. 29.
The sinners in Zion are afraid, says the
prophet. Who shall dwell, say they, with de-
vouring fire and everlasting burnings & Isa.
xxxiii. 14. Then, if you would not perish,
when his wrath is kindled, take that word of
Eliphaz, Job xxii. 21 : Acquaint now thyself
with him, and be at peace ; thereby good shal/
come unto thee.
And to you, so many as he hath taken into
friendship with himself, look backward to the
gulf you have escaped, and forward to the
happiness you are appointed to, and let the
joint consideration of both awaken your hearts
and tongues to praises. How can your hearts
contain such a wonder of love as he hath
manifested to you, and not run over in songs
and praise ?
And, as you owe him praises, so study, be-
ing made his friends, to become more like
him. That same idem velle, et idem nulle,
to love and hate the same things with him,
will be a sure testimony of friendship. And
because carnality, or flesnly and earthly mind-
edness, is here made the character of enmity,
mortify those affections, nail them to that
cross of Christ whereby the enmity was taken
away. And further, being once admitted into
friendship labor for a further degree of inti-
macy with him, and forbear everything that
may hinder that. Use frequent converse with
him ; for that both entertains and increases
friendship. If anything fall out on your part
(as it too often does), that may occasion any
strangeness between you and your God, rest
not till it be removed. And if you walk in this
way, it shall undoubtedly, at length, bring you
where you shall abide in his presence for ever,
and shall no more fear any breach or inter-
ruption of enjoying him. To him be praise 2
Amen.
SERVION X.
THE TRUE CHRISTIAN, THE BEST SUBJECT.
Rom ANs xiii. 5, 6, 7, 8.
Wherefore, ye must needs be subject, not only for
wrath, but also for conscience' sake.
For, for this cause pay ye tribute also: for they are
God’s ministers, attending continually upon this
very thing. tº g
Rendér therefore to all their dues; tribute to whom
tribute is due, custom to whom custom, fear to
whom fear, honor to whom honor.
Owe no man anything, but to love one another; for
he that loveth another hath fulfilled the law.
THE wisdom and goodness of God, which
shine in the natural order and dependance of
RoM. xiii. 5–8.]
485
THE BEST SUBJECT.
things in the frame of the great world, appear
likewise, and commend themselves to us, in
the civil order he hath instituted in the socie-
ties of men, the lesser world. As out of the
same mass he made the heavens and the
earth, and the other elements between them,
one higher than another, and gave them dif-
ferent stations and qualities, yet so different
as to be linked and concatenated together,
Concordia discordid, and all for the concern
and benefit of the whole; thus, for the good
of men, hath the Lord assigned these different
stations of rule and subjection (though all are
of one race, Acts , xviii. 26), raising from
among men some above the rest, and clothing
them with such authority as hath some rep-
resentment of himself, and accordingly com-
municating to them his own name: I have
said, ye are gods. And the very power that
is in magistracy to curb and punish those
that despise it, the apostle useth as a strong
and hard cord to bind on the duty of obedi.
ence, a cord of necessity. But he has another
of a higher necessity, that binds more strong-
ły, and yet more sweetly, that of conscience.
Wherefore ye must needs be subject, not only
for wrath, but also for conscience' sake.
Observe, 1. This is the main consideration
which closes the discourse, the great cord that
binds on and fastens all the rest; all the
arguments foregoing, therefore, are mainly
here to be pressed. Have a reverential and
conscientious respect to the ordinance of God
in the institution of government, and to the
providence of God in his choice of those par-
ticular persons whom he calls to it. Contain
thyself in thy own station, and submit to those
set higher by the Lord, in obedience to him.
This, indeed, is the only true spring of all
obedience, both to God, and to men for him,
and according to his ordinance. To regulate
the outward carriage, without the living
principle of an enlightened and sanctified
conscience within, is to build without a foun-
dation. This is the thing God eyes most.
He looks through the surface of men's actions
to the bottom, follows them into their source,
examines from what motives and reasons they
flow. He sees not only the handle of the dial,
but all the wheels and weights of the clock
that are the cause of its motion, and accord-
ingly judges both men and their actions to be
good or evil, as the inward frame and secret
motions of the heart are. In his own wor-
ship, the outside of it may have the same
visage and plausible appearance in a multi-
tude convened to it and concurring in it, and
no human eye can trace a difference ; and
yet, oh, what vast difference doth God’s eye
discover among them . He sees the multi-
tude of those who are driven to his house by
the power of civil and church laws, or carried
to it only with the stream of company and
custom (and these, I fancy, take up the most
room in our churches); but he sees here and
there, where such are in any corner, who
worship him in singleness of heart, out of con-
science to his holy command, and under a
Sense of their many obligations—those who
dare not let pass any opportunity they can
reach, of doing service to their Lord, and who
dare not slight his word, and thus coming for
conscience’ sake, they do present their souls to
receive his word; give their hearts up to re-
ceive the impression of it, put themselves
under it, to be stamped by it according to
that, Rom. vi. 17: But ye have obeyed from
the heart that form of doctrine which was de-
livered you. So, likewise, he sees those who
bear his name to his people, the ministers of
his word. If they preach constantly, and live
blamelessly, and are diligent and irreprovable
in all the external parts of their walking, this
last satisfies men's questions in their inspec-
tion and visitings; but God’s inquiry and
visiting search deeper. He asks from what
heart all this comes, whether from a holy
conscience of the weight and high importance
of their holy calling, and a faithful respect to
the interest of their Master's glory and his
people's souls. And thus, he, as Supreme
Judge, sits and considers the proceedings of
judges and magistrates; not only whether
they do that which is just (for often they can
not, easily or safely, do otherwise), but wheth-
er they do it with regard to him or not ; that
is, whether they judge righteously, for con-
science’ sake, or not; whether they do consider
him, as sitting above them, when they sit down
upon the bench or seat of justice, and do...in-
deed truly speak righteousness, Psalm lviii. 1,
or whether in heart they work wickedness.
If they have any corrupt end, or hearts that
are not straight, he sits on their heart and
judges it ; whether this be done either for
base gain, or vain glory, or by compulsion, or
outward necessity, or danger of censure, or
whether it be this latter, an inward necessity
of conscience, which makes a true willingness.
Thus people, if they obey for wrath, that
is, for fear of the magistrate’s sword, more
than for conscience of the Lord's command,
God accounts not this obedience, but in his
judgment it goes for no better than rebellion.
It is to be feared, too many magistrates, and
others, have in this nation embraced the
reformation, not at all for conscience' sake,
but only for wrath, from fear of laws and
authority. But although we are not able to
follow forth his search to the full, that being
the Lord's own prerogative, yet, truly, where
it is evident to us that there is nothing of con-
science, though in civil things it may pass,
yet, in things that are peculiarly matters of
conscience in religion, men ought to be some-
what wary, according to the utmost of due
discerning; and we are, possibly, somewhat
to blame in the promiscuous admitting of such,
whose carriage, yea, whose profession, and
religion speak aloud, that their compliance
was wholly constrained obedience, only for
wrath, and not for conscience.
If civil authority is to be obeyed most for
conscience, then, church authority, that is
486
[SER. X.
THE TRUE CHRISTIAN
more symbolical with conscience, and hath
nearer reference to it, ought to aim most at
that. Conviction and conversion is our work,
and not constraint ; to bring people, both by
the word and by a way of discipline suiting
and backing it, to a sense of sin and spiritual
thoughts of God and his holy law, that they
may be subject more for conscience than for
wrath.
And ye people, labor more to find the act-
ings of that holy fear of God and conscience
of his will in all your ways. Study to have
an inward light, a practical, sanctifying light,
directing you ; and be not merely held in as
beasts, by the authority and laws of men, but
learn to know and be sensible of the sovereign
authority of the most high God and his law,
and to have respect unto all his command-
ments. If this were once done, how regular
a motion would it keep among all superiors
and inferiors of all sorts, in families and states,
the One commanding, the other obeying, in
God . It would be as sweet music in the
celestial choir of their lives and affairs.
Right-informing and right-moving consciences
would be as continual teachers within, direct-
ing all in obedience, and would make it both
more constant, sweet, and pleasant, as natural
motion ; whereas that is grievous and violent
which is from wrath, or outward power, and
therefore lasts not: as the Israelites worship-
ped God aright while their good judges lived,
and ran after idols when they were removed.
Again. This same obedience for conscience
ennobles and sublimates men's actions even
in civil things, makes them have somewhat
Divine, turns all into sacrifice to God, when
all is done for God; even servants and chil-
dren obeying masters and parents, and sub-
jects magistrates, for his command's sake,
still thinking, in the whole course of their
regular, due carriage, in their very callings,
This I do for God; my ordinary labor and
works, and my just obedience to men, I offer
up to him. This is the philosopher's stone,
that turns actions of lower metal into gold ;
I set the Lord always before me. Psalm xvi. 8.
Obs. 2. Kings, and other powers of the
world, who are the enemies, and sometimes
the enraged persecutors of our holy religion,
mistake their quarrel, and are very wrong-
fully misprejudiced against it, when, upon
that false supposition, they hate and oppose
it, Suspecting it as an enemy to their dignity
and authority ; whereas there is nothing that
doth so much assert their just power as re-
ligion doth. Civil laws may tie the hands
and tongue to their obedience, but religion
binds all due subjection to them upon the
very consciences of their people. Therefore
they are both ungrateful and unwise, in using
their power against religion, which it somuch
strengthens. Their power should strengthen
it, both by way of due return, to correspond
with it in that, and even for its own interest,
receiving a new establishment to itself by
establishing religion. Even that master of
irreligious policy, Machiavel, confesses that
the profession of religion is a friend to authori-
ty. But if the shadow of it do anything that
way, we see, contrary to his profane supposi-
tion, the substance and truth of doth it much
II]. OTE.
Obs. 3. If for conscience' sake we are to
practise this subjection, then, Surely in nothing
is it our duty to be subject against the true
rule of conscience, and the prime object of
conscience, the authority and law of God.
That is the first and highest, our perpetual,
unalterable engagement to him, binding both
kings and subjects, both high and low. And
if rulers leave their station, we ought to keep
ours still, in a straight subjection to God.
For the extent of friendship and all other re-
lations, and of all subjection and obedience,
is to be ruled and bounded, usque ad aras.
Give to Cesar the things that are Cesar's, but
nothing of God’s : that is neither ours to give,
nor his to receive.
For, for this cause pay you tribute also.
This the apostle gives as a sign of that con-
fessed right which magistrates have to the
subjection and obedience of the people, that
in all nations this homage and acknowledg-
ment is due to them : Tribute to whom tribute
is due. Which it may be he the rather men-
tions, because some question might exist,
what might Christians do concerning this.
However, this, according to the constitution
of several places, he takes as granted, to be
not only lawful, but due to be rendered. . Here
we are not to insist on the scanning of this:
but certainly, as the power of a magistrate is
not in this, nor in any other thing, absolute and
unbounded, so, the legal and just paying of
tribute and other revenues by the people
argues their engagement to those set over
them, and is to be rendered, not as Wages to
a mercenary servant, but as an honorary due
to their place and calling, who are the minis-
ters of God in civil government. So, also,
convenient yet liberal maintenance to the
ministers of God's own house is their right,
yet not to enrich them ; nor yet ought it to
be given grudgingly, as undue, or supercil-
iously, as to servants, but with the cheerful-
ness and respect agreeable to the Lord's ser-
vants, who watch for their souls.
All tribute and obedience still relate to this,
and are grounded on it, the Lord’s institution
of power and government for the good of men.
Though it sometimes prove otherwise in the
exercise of it, yet the ordinance is pure, and
most wisely suited to its end; from which
the sin and corruption of men turn, it but too
often to the hurt of both the ruler himself and
of the ruled, Eccl. viii. 9: There is a time
wherein one man ruleth over another to his
own hurt; each proving a scourge to the other,
in the just judgment of God upon both for
their iniquities; making a fire from Abimelech
to devour the men of Shechem, and the men
of Shechem to deal treacherously with Abime-
lech. Judg. ix. 20. Yet, still the thing itself
RoM. xiii. 5–8.]
487
THE BEST SUBJECT.
remains good. Many skilful physicians may
kill instead of curing, yet it is but a caprice
to decry all remedies, and the use of things
medicinal, which the God of nature hath fur-
nished for that use. Men may, and alas!
most men do, prejudice their own health, by
either intemperate or in some way irregular
diet; yet this makes nothing against the con-
tinual necessity and use of food, nor can dis-
suade any from using it. Thus, the abuses
of authority infringe not this, that magistrates
are a public good; yea, the unjust are better
than none, tyranny is better than anarchy ;
there is some justice done in the most unjust
government.
But thus, they who are exalted to rule,
ought to consider who raised them, and for
what they are raised, and so faithfully to do
justice. They are raised high, as the stars
are set in their orbits, for influence and the
good of the inferior world, and like the moun-
tains which rise above the valleys, not to be
places of prey and ruin, but, by the streams
they send out, to refresh them. So, from
magistrates, judgment ought to run down as
water, and justice as a mighty stream. They
ought to consider themselves as ministers ;
though called magistrates with relation to the
people, yet ministers in relation to God
[Xetráoyot Beş), and the people's in him, as the
word Actráoyot imports, being constant laborers
for their good ; even as the sun is a minister,
God's minister of heat and light to the earth.
Would they look up thus to God, it would
make them look down on their inferiors, not
with the ill aspect of pride and cruelty, but
with the benign looks of good-will, fidelity,
and vigilancy for their welfare, knowing that
they are appointed for this very use in the
world ; not referring to that which is nearest
here, and nearest themselves, the receiving
of tribute, but the remotest good, which is
the chief end for which their tribute and them-
selves are appointed, the punishing of the
wicked and the encouragement of the good.
Render therefore to all their dues, tribute
to whom tribute is due, custom to whom cus-
tom, fear to whom fear, honor to whom honor.
The apostle enlarges his exhortation to the
general rule of equity. The humble, upright
mind will willingly comply with this, and pay
respect to men, in obedience to God, and
therefore primarily to him, which the most
neglect. Honor and fear are due to him as to
our Father and Master, and yet where is it to
be found ! If I be a father, where is mine
honor 2 and if I be a master where is my fear?
Mal. i. 6. The tribute of praise and glory
in all these respects is due, and ought not to
be purloined, nor any part detained ; but how
few are faithful in this. Much uncustomed
goods pass among our hands in the course of
our lives, many things wherein we are not
mindful to give glory, entire glory to God.
But he can not be deceived; if we go on, he
will take us in our quietest conveyance, and
all will be forfeited. We shall certainly lose
all, if all glory return not to him. All that
we have, and are, should we daily and hearti-
ly offer up to him, from whom we have life,
and breath, and all things.
Owe no man anything, but to love one anoth-
er. That which the apostle set before him-
self, as his own study and exercise, he doth,
in the latter part of this epistle, set forth at
large, as the duty of every Christian, to keep
a conscience void of offence toward God and
men. Acts xxiv. 16. And having, in the
former part of it, treated amply and excel-
lently of the doctrine of Christian faith and
salvation, and ascended to its highest cause,
he descends thence to give the rules of
a Christian life. And he reduces them to
these two ; 1. To give the Lord his due,
which is ourselves entire : our bodies ought
to be a living sacrifice, and that they are not
without the soul. And it is love in the soul,
that offers up this whole burnt-offering to
God, the fire that makes it ascend. 2. Tow-
ard men likewise, love is all. Of which,
in many several acts of it, he spake likewise
in the former chapter, wer. 9, &c.; and hav-
ing inserted an exhortation to subjection to
human authority as a divine institution, he
now returns to that main, comprehensive,
and universal duty of love, and passes fitly
from the mention of other particular dues to
superiors, to this, as the general due, or stand-
ing debt, which all men owe one to another.
So I conceive this is not intended for the fur-
ther pressing of that particular duty of sub-
jection, by reducing it (as seeming hard in it-
self) to the sweet and pleasant rule or law of
love, but that he passes wholly from that par-
ticular to this common duty, so as that it is
not excluded, but comprehended here with
the rest, though not specially aimed at ; a
little rivulet running awhile in its own chan-
nel, in the foregoing discourse, which falls
here in again to the main current of the doc-
trine of love, begun in the former chapter.
And here he chooses, adapting it to the strain
of the discourse immediately foregoing it, to
express this under the notion of a debt: Owe
nothing, but love.
1. Let other debt be removed : Owe noth-
ing. That is, be not willing to continue debt-
ors of anything to any, by undue retaining of
such things as, being paid, are not owing.
2. This is a constant debt, which you must
still pay, and yet still owe–love. And the
reason added, is most enforcing, that we
should be willing to continue both payers and
yet debtors of it. The dueness of it appears
in this, that the law requires it, and the com-
pleteness of it, in that it is all the law re-
quires: , Love is the fulfilling of the law.
Which is amplified in the two subsequent
VerSeS.
This is most fully true, take love fully,
as it looks on its full object, God and man :
and so it is the fulfilling of the whole law
which relates to those two in its two tables.
Take it particularly, as acting toward men
488
[SER. X.
THE TRUE CHRISTIAN
(as here it is), and so it fulfils that part of the
law, that whole table, which respects man.
The most of those commandments are ex-
pressly here set down (ver, 9), and the omis-
sion of one is fully supplied by that addition,
If there be any other. Then again, it is clear-
ed by the common aim and result of them all,
which is to keep our neighbor undamaged,
and that, love doth most surely and fully ;
therefore it fulfils all. That negative, work-
eth no ill to his neighbor, answers the strain
of all the commandments, which is, to defend
our neighbors from our ill, being most of
them such, and all of them such, that are
here specified ; yet both they, and this sum of
them, involving the contrary, the working of
all possible good to our neighbor; in which,
still love suits it, nothing being both more
averse from wrong, and more active in good,
than love : as the same apostle hath it, 1 Cor.
xiii. Besides that it can not do, no, nor so much
as think evil, it is naturally carried to bounty
and kindness, and can not cease from doing
good, a plant that is fruitful all the year long.
The apostle hath very good authority for
this abridgment of the law; our Savior him-
self, Matt. xxii. 40. And he takes it out of
the books of the law themselves, and certi-
fies us, that it is the substance and sum both
of the law and the prophets. Were this love
absolutely perfect, the fulfilling of the law
would be so too; and where it is sincere, as
the apostle requires it, there is a sincere and
evangelical obedience, or fulfilling of the law.
In the text, consider, 1. The largeness of
its object. 2. The largeness of its acting.
3. The height of its true original.
1. The largeness of the object. So far as
thou canst acquit thyself, owe nothing else to
any ; but love, owe that to all. Not a like fa-
miliar converse necessarily to all, nor a like
measure of beneficence, nor a like degree of
love, but yet love alike sincere and real to all.
Not either a false, or an empty, fair carriage,
but holy Christian love, love rooted in thy
heart, and springing up in thy actions, even
toward all men, as thy opportunity and abil-
ity serve thee, and their condition requires of
thee; not hating or despising any for their
poverty in estate, or deformity of body, or de-
fects of mind, nor for that which works most
on men, injuries done to thyself. All they
can do, can not give thee an acquittance,
or free thee of this debt of love; for thou art
bound to another. This is the rule of Jesus
Christ, and the badge of Christians, to love
their very enemies. But this, oh how rare
is it ! How few attain it ! Yea, how few en-
deavor to attain it ! On the contrary, it is by
many given over as a desperate, impossible
business, they judging of it not according to
that spirit of Christ that is his, but according
to the corrupt rancor and bitterness of their
own natural perverse spirits. Yea, and too
many disdain it as a poorness and sheepish-
ness of spirit to suffer and forgive. Be it so;
yet is it such a sheepishness as makes a man
like Jesus Christ, who, as a sheep before the
shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth,
when his heart within was compassionate
toward them, as appeared when he opened
it concerning them, Father, forgive them, for
they know not what they do. This is true
greatness of spirit, to partake of his spirit
that is the highest and best of spirits, and it
is the spirit of meekness and love. How much
is this above the common spirit of the world !
Truly base and poor is that which is decom-
posed and put out of frame with every touch :
whereas this is mighty, and triumphs indeed
over all provocations and injuries.
2. Let us consider the largeness of its act-
ing: it goes through the law, fulfils it all.
That command, the first in the second table.
which is not here expressed, is it not love
that makes all concerned in it, to fulfil it, that
produceth mildness and moderation in supe-
riors, and faithfulness and willing obedience
in inferiors; makes both authority and sub-
jection sweet and easy, where love com-
mands and love obeys 3
And for the next, Thou shalt not kill, doth
not love, as the sunbeams put out the fire, by
its divine heat eat out the earthly, yea, the in-
fernal fire of fixed malice or rash anger, that
burns naturally in the hearts of men 2 Such
anger is called brutish, Ezek. xxi. 31 ; burn-
ing or brutish ; and, on the contrary, the am-
biguity, Prov. xvii. 27, is happy, of an earcel-
lent or of a cool spirit , for the cool spirit is
so, cool from base passion, but burning truly
with this love. . And then this fire is by very
small, and many times merely imaginary
causes, so easily blown up, that it flames
forth into gross murders, or at least such in-
juries and violences, or contentions and revi-
lings, as go in God's account, and are writ
down in his book, for murders. And he doth
not misjudge, nor misname things, but they
are really what he accounts them. Love can
generously pass over those things about which
folly and pride make such a noise, Oh I can I
bear this and that ? And thou wouldst, by so
saying, speak thy stout-heartedness. Fool, is
this stoutness and strength 2 Is it not
rather the greatest weakness to be able
to bear nothing 2 Have not the weakest
persons much of that kind of stoutness and
strength, who are the soonest moved and
disquieted, women and children, and sick or
aged persons 2 But love, Christian love to thy
brother, makes the mind truly strong and
composed, not easily stirred against him for
every trifle, nay, not for greater matters.
Love can endure much, yea, all things, says
the apostle, 1 Cor. xiii. 7 ; it hath strength to
stand under them, and stand firm ; whereas
base minds, void of love, break all to pieces
under a very small weight. Love beareth all
things, as the supporters of a strong and firm
building; or rather, as a house, it covers all,
for so the word signifies. It doth not blaze
abroad the ſailings of men ; yea, it hides
much, covers a multitude of sins, not only
RoM. xiii. 5–8.]
489
THE BEST SUBJECT.
from the eyes of others, but even from a
man's own eyes ; makes him not behold and
look on those things that might provoke him.
Yea, it is ingenious and inventive of the fair-
est constructions of things, to take them by
the best side, in the favorable sense; and so
long as there is any agreeable way to in-
terpret anything favorably, will not have a
hard thought of it, thinks no ill, as there it is.
Not only hath it no active evil thoughts of re-
venge, or returning evil, but willingly it doth
not judge ill of what is done by others, and
what might be so looked on as to provoke :
oùAoyišerat, doth not reckon wrongs so high as
want of charity moves the most to do, it sets
them low. And as a healthful constitution is
Sweet itself, and relishes all things right, so
there is more true pleasure and content of
mind in forgiving, than ever any man found
in revenge. This is but a feverish delight
which malice and anger have wrought, work-
ing perhaps greedily, but it is indeed a dis-
temper. This love is the very root of peace
and concord, an humble grace, that is not lift-
ed up and insolent, as the word there is, and
so doth not breed jars about punctilios: it es-
teems so well of others, and so meanly of it-
self, that it can not well be crossed by any in
that matter of undervaluing. But vain spir-
its are puffed up with a little approbation,
and as easily kindled up with any affront or
apprehended disgrace. Love is not light-
ly put out of temper, as, in sickly constitutions,
a fit of fever or ague is brought on by any
blast or wrong touch of diet: it is of a strong-
er digestion, and firmer health.
Them for that commandment, Thou shalt
not commit adultery, all things of that kind,
though they spring from a kind of love, yet
are not from this love from above, but (as
the Apostle James distinguishes wisdom) pro-
ceed from the love that is sensual and devilish.
Love is not the true name of it, but base and
brutish lust. And generally, all profane soci-
eties, and sortings of men one with another,
are most contrary to this pure love. The
drunkards who are cup-friends, as they are
full of jars, and have no constancy, but are
unstable as that wherein their friendship lies,
their liquor, are a vile, despicable society, not
worthy of men, much less of Christians.
This sin hath affinity with uncleanness, and
is usually ranked there. Right love to a tip-
ler, is not to sit down and guzzle with him,
but to reprove and labor to reclaim him, and
where that can not be done, to avoid him.
To wicked persons we owe, not a complacen-
cy or delight, which is most contrary to this
love, but, hating their sin, we owe them love,
and the desiring, and, as far as love can, the
procuring of their conversion and Salvation.
Wicked converse can not consist with this
love, which is the fulfilling of the law, and
not a combination for the breaking of it, and
the joining of their strength together for that
end. Love rejoiceth not in iniquity, but in
the truth: it makes not men rejoice together
in sin. So foul, unclean affections, and a so-
ciety in order to the gratifying of them, are
most contrary to it. True love is most ten-
der of the châstity of others, and can not abide
an impure thought in itself.
So, as to the next precept, Thou shall not
steal, love would be loath to enrich or advan-
tage itself upon the damage of others in any
kind. It doth most faithfully and singly seek
the profit and prosperity of our neighbor even
as our own. And if this took place, of how
much use were it in the world ! But oh ! it
is rare. This meum and tuum is the grand
cause of the ill understanding and discords
that are among men, when things are not
managed by this love, but by self-love.
And so, as to that, Thou shalt not bear false
witness, the cherishing and preserving of the
good name of our brethren is a properand very
remarkable fruit of this love, which is so far
from forging false, defaming stories, that it
will rather eacuse, if it may be done, or if not,
will pity the real failings of men which tend
to their reproach ; and, on the contrary, will
teach men to rejoice in the good carriage and
good esteem of their brethren, as in their own.
In the end, love works such a complacency
in the good of others, and such a contentation
with our own estate, that it most powerfully
banishes that unruly humor of coveting,
which looks on the condition of others with
envy, and on our own with grudging and dis-
content. This law of love written within,
doth not only rectify and order the hands and
the tongue, but the jealousies, the very stir-
rings of the heart: it corrects the usual dis-
order of its motion, and bars those uncharita-
ble, inordinate thoughts, that do so abound
and swarm in carnal minds.
3. The original of this love, is that other
love which corresponds to the other part, the
first and chief point of the law, our duty tow-
ard God. Love to him is the sum and
source of all obedience. When the whole
soul and mind is possessed with that, then
all is acceptable and sweet that he commands;
first, what he commands as immediately re-
ferrible to himself, and then, what is the rule
of our carriage to men as being prescribed and
commanded by him. For so, and no otherwise,
is this love the fulfilling of the law, when it
flows from that first love, love to God, whose
law it is that commands this other love to
men. Some men may have somewhat like
it, by a mildness and ingenuousness of na-
ture, being inoffensive and well-disposed tow-
ard all; but then only doth it fulfil the law,
when out of regard to the law of God it
obeys, and obeys out of love to him whose
law it is. So, then, the love of God in the
heart is the spring of right and holy love
to our neighbor, both (1.) Because in obedi-
ênce to him whom we love sovereignly, we
shall love others sincerely, because he will
have it so. That is reason enough to the
soul possessed and taken up with his love. It
loves nothing, how lovely soever, but in him
490
[SER. XI.
GRAPES FROM THORNS.
and for him, in order and subordination to his
love, and in respect to his will; and it loves
anything, how unlovely soever, taking it in
that contemplation. It loves not the dearest
friend but in God, and can love the hateful-
lest enemy for him: Amicum in Deo, et inim-
icum propter Deum. [Augustine.] His love
can beautify the most unamiable object, and
make it lovely. He saith of a worthless, un-
deserving man, or thy most undeserving ene-
my, Love him for my sake, because it pleas-
es me; and that is reason enough to one who
loves him. (2.) There is that dilating, sweet-
ening virtue in love to God, that it can act in
no other way to men but as becomes love.
Base self-love contracts the heart, and is the
very root of all sin, the chief wickedness in
Our corrupt nature; but the love of God as-
similates the soul to him, makes it divine,
and therefore bountiful, full of love to all. So
these two contradict not, Love the Lord with
all thy heart, and thy neighbor, as thyself.
If all our love must go to God, what re-
mains, say you, for our neighbor 2 Indeed,
all must go upward, and be all placed on
him, and thence it is resounded and regulated
downward to men, according to his will. But
self-love brings forth pride, and cruelty, and
coVetousness, and uncleanness, and disdain
of others, and all such kind of monsters; so,
it is the main breaking of the law.
All that can be said, will not persuade men
to this, till the Lord by his love teach it and
impress it on the heart. Know that this is
the badge of Christ's followers, and his great
rule and law given to them ; and if you will
follow him, that you may come to be where
he is, then study this, that as our Lord Christ
loyed us, so, also, we ought to love one an-
other.
*-
SERMON XI.
GRAPES FROM THORNS,
GREAT and various are the evils that lodge
within the heart of man. Hence proceed
evil thoughts, adulteries, murders, and many
other mischiefs, as our Savior specifies there,
Matt. xv. 19: they come forth apace, and
yet, the heart is not emptied of them. But
Was this heart thus at first, when it came
newly forth of the hands of its Maker 2
Surely not. Man was made upright, but he
found out many inventions. Eccl. vii. 29.
Soon did the the heart find the way to cor-
rupt itself; but to renew itself, is as impossi-
ble as to have been the author of its own cre-
ation. Easily could it deface the precious
characters of God’s image, but it passes the
heart of men and angels to restore them.
Only the Son of God, who for that purpose
took on him our nature, can make us, accord-
ing to the apostle's phrase, partakers of the
Divine nature. It is he alone that can ban-
ish those unclean spirits, and keep possession
that they return no more. Have not they made
a happy change of guests, who have those
infernal troops turned out of doors, and the
King of Glory fixing his abode within them?
This is the voice of the gospel: Lift up your
heads, ye gates, and be ye lift up, ye everlast-
*ng doors, that the King of Glory may enter
an. Psalm xxiv. 7. But small is the number
of those who open where this voice is daily
sounded. Yea, some there are, who grow
worse under the frequent preaching of the
word, as if sin were emulous, and, as is said
of virtue, would grow by opposition. The
truth is, too many of us turn those serious ex-
ercises of religion into an idle divertisement.
Take heed that formality, and custom, and
novelty, do not often help to fill up many
rooms in our church. It were indeed a breach
of charity, to entertain the fulness of your as-
semblies with an ill construction: no, it is
to be commended. Bnt would to God we
were more careful to show our religion in
our lives, to study to know better the deceits
and impostures of our own hearts, and to
gain daily more victory over our secret and
best beloved sins ! Let our intentions, then
be to meet with Christ here, and to admit
him gladly to dwell and rule within us.
If he conquer our inward enemies, those
without shall not be able to hurt us. If he
deliver us from our sinful lusts, he will stir
our own distrustful fears. And that such
may be the fruits of our meeting; let us turn
ourselves toward the throne of grace, with
humble prayer, in the name of Jesus Christ,
the righteous.
PsALM lxxvi. 10.
Surely, the wrath of man shall praise thee: the re-
mainder of wrath shalt thou restrain.
What manner of man is this, said the pas-
sengers in the ship, that even the winds and
the sea obey him 2 Matt. viii. 27. Christ sud-
denly turns a great tempest into a greater
calm. Surely, those are no ordinary words
of command, which swelling waves and bois-
terous winds, in the midst of their rage, are
forced to hear, and taught to understand and
obey. Therefore, the holding of the seas in
the hollow of his hand, the bridling of the
wind, and riding upon the wings of it, we
find peculiarly attributed to the Almighty.
But no less, if not more wonderful, is another
of his prerogatives, to wit, his sovereignty
over all mankind, over the divers and strange
motions of the heart of man. Admirable is
it to govern those, both in respect of their
multitude and irregularity. Consider we what
millions of men dwell at once upon the face
of the earth, and again, what troops of sev-
eral imaginations will pass through the fancy
of any one man, within the compass of one
day; it is much to keep eye upon them, and
to behold them all at once, but far more to
command and control them all. Yet, if they
were all loyal and willingly obedient, were
PsAlM. lxxvi. 10.]
491
GRAPES FROM THORNS.
they tractable and easily curbed, it were
more easy for us to conceive how they
might be governed. But to bound and over-
rule the unruly hearts of men, the most of
whom continually are either plotting or act-
ing rebellion against their Lord, to make
them all concur and meet at last in one end,
can not be done but by a power and a wisdom
that are both infinite. That God whose
name we often mention, but seldom think on
his excellency, is alone the absolute monarch
of men's hearts, and the ruler of all their mo-
tions. He hath them limited while they
seem most free, and works his own glory out
of their attempts, while they strive most to
dishonor him. Surely, the wrath of man
shall praise thee.
This Psalm is made up of two different
sorts of thoughts; the one arising out of par-
ticular experience, and the other out of a
general doctrine. Those drawn from eape-
rience, are set down in the verses preceding
the text; and in it, with those that follow, is
contained the doctrine, with a duty annexed
to it, which two are faith’s main supporters.
Past experiences verify the doctrine, and the
generality of the doctrine serves to explain
the particular experiences to all wise observ-
ers. There is not a treasure of the merits of
Saints in the church, as some dream, but
there is a treasure of the precious ea periences
of the saints, which every believer hath right
to make use of; and these we should be
versed in, that we may have them in readi-
ness at hand, in time of need, and know how
to use them to draw both comfort from them
to ourselves, and arguments to use with God.
The words contain clearly two proposi-
tions, both of them concerning the wrath of
man: the former hath the event of it, Surely
the wrath of man shall praise thee : the lat-
ter, the limitation of it, The remainder of
wrath thou wilt restrain.
That the virtues and graces of men do
praise the Lord, all men easily understand,
for they flow from him: his image and su-
perscription are upon them, and therefore no
wonder if he has from them a tribute of glo-
ry. Who knows not that faith praises him 2
Abraham believed and gave glory to God.
Rom. iv. 20. Good works, the fruits of faith,
praise him too. Herein is my father glori-
fied, says our Savior, that ye bear much fruit.
John xv. 8. But that the inordinate wrath
of man should praise him, may seem some-
what strange. Were it God's own wrath
(since wrath is attributed to him in Scripture),
that might praise him, for it is always most
just. Or were it a due and moderate anger
of man, upon just cause, that were fit for
praising him too, in despite of the stoics.
But that wicked and disordered wrath (which
is undoubtedly here meant), that the wrath
of men, which is both uncomely and dishon-
orable for themselves, though they think oth-
erwise, that even such a wrath should honor
God and praise him, argues well both that he
hath good right to praises, when everything,
even things that seem contrary to his nature
as well as to his law, do pay them to him :
and that he hath great power and wisdom,
who obtains what is due to him even from
those persons and things which of them-
selves are most unwilling and unfit to pay it
This is the excellent skill of his wisdom, to
draw that which shall go into the making up
of the precious composition of his praise, out
of this poison: for so the word here used for
wrathful heat, doth sometimes signify. And
this wrath often proves so, a deadly poison
both to those it is incensed against, and to
the very breast that breeds it, and wherein it
is kindled.
. But for the clearer understanding of this,
I conceive it will be requisite to consider
more distinctly, first, what this wrath of man
is ; secondly, how it can praise God; and
lastly, the infallibility of this event, Surely
the wrath of man shall praise thee.
I. In the czlviiith Psalm, where David
summons the creatures to meet in that song
of praise, to keep that full concert, he calls
not only the heavens and the inhabitants of
it, angels and lights, but those of the lower
world to bear their part in it; and not only
men, beasts, cattle, creeping things, and the
flying fowl, but those creatures which do
most resemble this wrath here spoken of,
fire, stormy tempest, and dragons, &c. The
tenor of this Psalm doth show, that by the
wrath of man is to be understood the undue
rage of evil and ungodly men against those
whom God owns for his people. The word
here used, signifies a hot or inflaming wrath;
and indeed such is the feverish, distempered
anger of the church’s enemies. And as too
much heat is an enemy to solid reason, this
hot wrath of theirs makes them incapable of
wise deliberation in themselves, and inflexi-
ble to the good advice of others. It is true
they take counsel how to execute their wrath,
as we shall hear anon, but they take no
counsel that may cool it. Anger, described,
by its material cause, is called a boiling of
the blood about the heart; but this ariseth
from the apprehension of something offen-
sive, kindling a desire of revenge. Now it is
a wonder what the powers of the world find
in Christ and his harmless flock, that can in-
cense them. St. James says of the tongue,
that it is set on fire of hell. The same is the
origin of this wrath. . Why do the heathen
rage 2 saith the psalmist, Psalm ii. 1. That
is, not only to what purpose, intimating that
it is a fruitless rage, and void of success, in
regard of God's power, but Why, that is,
upon what occasion, checking the rage as
groundless and without cause, in regard of
Christ and his church's innocency. The cause
is only within themselves, to wit, that unhap-
py antipathy of the serpent's seed against the
seed of the woman. Thus, this wrath of man
is, the causeless, malicious enmity of the
wicked against the church of God. And un-
492
[SER. XI.
GRAPES FROM THORNS.
der the name of this passion I take to be
here comprised likewise, all the attendants
of it, all their crafty complotments and devi-
ces for the acting of their wrath. As there
is mention of the nation's rage against Christ,
in the second Psalm, so, likewise, of the con-
sultations of those who are of quality fit for
it: The rulers take counsel together. Fur-
ther, this wrath is not barely their inward
fire, but the vent of it, when it flames into
cruel and outrageous practices, including like-
wise all the instruments they make use of.
And of all these it is true, that God shall
gain glory by them. Surely, the wrath of man
shall praise thee.
The wrath of man, says the apostle, accom-
plisheth not the righteousness of God. Jam.
i. 20. How, then, can it accomplish his
praises 2 And this is the IId thing pro-
pounded.
Are grapes gathered of thorns, or figs of
thistles 2 Surely not. Therefore I called this
phrase not the fruit or proper effect of man's
wrath, but the event or consequent of it, by
the efficacy of Divine providence. The wrath
of man shall praise thee. That is, the use
which thou wilt make of it, shall tend to thy
praise. Thou wilt produce such effects from
it, both in the church and upon thine enemies,
when thou sufferest thy wrath to break forth,
as shall furnish more matter of thy praises
than if thou hadst altogether restrained it.
To instance this in some few particulars:--
It is the fury of the church’s enemies, that
has made known to the world the invincible
courage and patience of the saints. Those
ages which have been most monstrous in per-
secution, have most of all graced Christianity.
Had there been no persecuting emperors, who
would have heard of those primitive martyrs
who triumphed over the cruelty of their tor-
ments 2 Were there no persecution, or peril,
nor sword, against believers, we should not
have heard the apostle say, immediately after
the mention of those, In all these we are more
than conquerors. They could not have been
so much as conquerors had there been no con-
flict.
Again, as the wrath of man praises God in
the invincible patience of the saints, so, like-
wise, in the immoveable stability of the church.
Is it not wonderful how so small and weak a
company as the church hath often been re-
duced to, yea, hath always been in respect of
the world, could escape the mouths of so
many lions, so many enraged enemies that
were ready to devour it? And that we may
see that this tends solely to the praise of her
great Protector, look to the church's song
penned by the royal prophet; it is the czXivth
Psalm : If it had not been the Lord that was
on our side, when men rose up against us,
then they had swallowed us up quick. The
great monarchies and kingdoms of the world,
which have risen with so much splendor,
have had their periods and been buried in the
dust. That golden-headed and silver-bodied
image degenerated into worse metal as it
went lower, and the brittle feet were the
cause of the fall and breaking of all the rest.
But the kingdom of Jesus Christ, though des-
picable in the world, and exposed to the
wrath of the world in all ages, stands firm
and can not be removed. There is a common
emblem of the winds blowing from all quar-
ters, and upon the globe of the earth, being
in the middle of them, is written Immobilis.
This fitly resembles the church. Why, it
seems to be the sport of all the winds, but is
indeed so established, that all of them, yea,
the very gates of hell can not prevail against
it. Now, the more the church’s enemies la-
bor and moil themselves to undo her, the
more do their weakness and the power of her
Lord appear ; so that thus the wrath of man
doth praise him:
When was the church free from the world’s
wrath 2 To say nothing of the church of the
Jews, did not those wicked emperors of Rome
think to have made the Christian church
short-lived, to have drowned her newly-born
in floods of her own blood 2 And in latter
ages, who knows not the cruelties that have
been practised by the Turk in the East, and
the proud prelate of Rome in the West ? By
which she hath sometimes been brought to
so obscure and low a point, that if you can
follow her in history, it is by the track of her
blood; and if you would see her, it is by the
light of those fires in which her martyrs have
been burnt. Yet hath she still come through
and survived all that wrath, and still shall
survive, till she be made perfectly triumph-
ant.
Further: men's wrath tends to God's praise
in this, that God, giving way to it, doth so
manage it by his sublime providence, that it
often directly crosses their own ends, and con-
duces manifestly to his. Pharaoh thought
that his dealing more cruelly with the Jews
in their tasks and burdens, was wisdom : Let
us work wisely, says he. But whereas their
ordinary servility was become familiar to
them, and they were tamed to it, that same
accession of new tyranny did prepare and
dispose the Israelites for a desire of de-
parture, and their departure made way for
Pharaoh's destruction. Undigestible insolen-
cy and rage, hastening to be great, make
kingdoms cast them off, which would have
been far longer troubled with their wicked-
ness, had it been more moderate. Surely,
then, the wrath of man commends the wis-
dom of God, when he makes him by that con-
trive and afford the means of his own down-
fall. The steps of his strength shall be strait-
ened, and his own counsel shall cast him down,
says Bildad, Job xviii. 7. And that is a sad
fall ; as that eagle that was shot with an ar-
row trimmed with her own feathers.
But to close this point. It is out of all
question, that the deserved punishment of
man's unjust wrath doth always glorify the
justice of God; and the more he gives way
PsALM lxxvi. 10.]
493
GRAPES FROM THORNS.
to their wrath, the more notable shall be both
their punishment and the justice of it. And
though God seems neglective of his people
and of his praise, while man's wrath prevails,
yet the truth is, he never comes too late to
vindicate his care of both ; and when he defers
longest, the enemy pays dear interest for the
time of forbearance. In his eternal decree,
he resolved to permit the course of man's
wrath for his own glory, and when the period
which he hath fixed is come, he stops man's
wrath, and gives course unto the justice of his
own. Nor is there, then, any possibility of
escaping. He will right himself, and be
known by executing judgment. Surely, the
wrath of man shall praise thee.
And that is the IIId thing propounded, the
infallibility of the event.
The Author of nature governs all his crea-
tures, each in a suitable way to the nature he
hath given them. He maintains, in some
things, a natural necessity of working, con-
tingency in others, and in others, liberty; but
all of them are subject to this necessity of ef-
fecting inevitably his eternal purposes. And
this necessity is no way repugnant to the due
liberty of man's will. Some entertain and
maintain the truth; some plot, others act and
execute, against it ; some please themselves
with a wise neutrality, and will appear so in-
different that it would seem they might be
accepted of all sides for judges of controver-
sies. And all these find no less liberty to wind
and turn themselves whither they please,
than if no higher hand had the winding of
them. Yet shall not only the zeal of the god-
ly, but even the wrath of the enemy, and the
cold discretion of the neutral, all tend to his
praise whose supreme will will have a secret,
but a sure and infallible sway in all their ac-
tions. While some passengers sit, some walk
one way, some another, some have their faces
toward their journey’s end, some their back
turned upon it, this wise Pilot does most skil-
fully guide the ship to arrive with them all at
his own glory. , Happy they who propound
and intend his glory as he himself does, for in
them shall the riches of his mercy be glori-
fied They who oppose him, lose this happi-
ness, but he is sure not to lose his glory for all
that, to wit, the glory of his justice. His right
hand shall find out all his enemies. Surely,
the wrath of man shall praise thee.
The consideration of this truth, thus in
some measure unfolded, may serve to justify
the truly wise dispensations of God against
our imaginary wisdom. Were the matter re-
ferred to our modelling, we should assign the
church constant peace and prosperity for her
portion, and not consent that the least air of
trouble should come near her : we would have
no enemies to molest her, nor stir against her,
or if they did stir, we would have them to be
presently repressed ; and these, in our judg-
ment, would be the fairest and most glorious
tokens of his love and power whose spouse
she is. But this carnal wisdom is enmity
against God, and is opposed to the glory of
God, which rises so often out of the wrath of
his enemies. Had God caused Pharaoh to
yield at the very first to the release of his peo-
ple, where had been the fame of those mirac-
ulous judgments in Egypt, and those mercies
on the Israelites, the one setting out and illus-
trating the other ? Where had been that
name and honor which God says he would
gain to himself, and which he did gain out
of Pharaoh’s final destruction, making that
stony-hearted king and his troops sink like a
stone in the waters, as Moses sings 2 Observe
his proud boastings immediately foregoing
his ruin: I will pursue, says he, I will over-
take, I will divide the spoil ; my lust shall be
satisfied on them: I will draw my sword, and
my hand shall destroy them. Soon after, the
sea quenches all this heat. Commonly, big
threatenings are unhappy presages of very ill
success. That historian [Herodotus] says well
of God, Deus neminem alium, quam seipsum,
sinit de se magnifice sentire : God suffers no
other to think highly of himself, than him-
self alone. And indeed, as he abhors those
boastings, so he delights in the abasing of the
lofty heart whence they flow, and it is his
prerogative to gain praise to himself out of
their wrath. Hast thou an arm like God &
says the Lord to Job, them, look upon the
proud and bring them low. Job xl. 9, 12.
When Sennacherib came up against Jerusa-
lem, his blasphemies and boastings were no
less vast and monstrous than the number of
his men and chariots. Good Hezekiah turned
over the matter unto God, spreading the let-
ter of blasphemies before him, upon which
God undertook the war, and assured Heze-
kiah that the Assyrian should not so much as
shoot an arrow against the city, but return
the same way he came. 2 Kings xix. 33. And
the deliverance there promised and effected,
is conceived to have been the occasion of pen-
ning this very Psalm. Surely, when an angel
did in one night slay one hundred and eighty-
five thousand in their camps, that wrath and
those threats tended exceedingly to the praise
of the God of Israel. The hook that he put in
Sennacherib's nostrils (as the history speaks),
to pull him back again, was more remarkable
than the fetters would have been, if he had
tied him at home, or hindered his march with
his army.
Who is he then that will be impatient be-
cause of God's patience, and judge him slack
in judgment, while the rage of the wicked
prevails awhile 2 Know, that he is more
careful of his own glory than we can be, and
the greater height man's wrath arises to, the
more honor shall arise to him out of it. Did
not his omnipotency shine brighter in the
. flames of that furnace into which the three
children were cast, than if the king's wrath
had been at first cooled 2 Certainly, the more
both it and the furnace had their heat aug-
mented, the more was God glorified. Who is
that God, saith he, blasphemously and proud-
494
[SER. XI.
GRAPES FROM THORNS.
ly, that can deliver you out of my hands
Dan. iii. 15. A question, indeed, highly dis-
honoring the Almighty, but stay till the real
answer come ; and then, not only shall that
wrath praise him, but that very same tongue,
though inured to blasphemy, shall be taught
to bear a main part in the confession of those
praises. Let that apostate emperor [Julian]
go taunting the Head, and tormenting the
members of that mystical body, his closing
with 'Evíkmaa; l'axtAaſe, Thou hast overcome, O
Galilean (meaning Christ), shall help to veri-
fy that, whether its course be shorter or long-
er, man’s wrath ends always in God’s praise.
In like manner, the closing of the lions’ mouth
spake louder to his praise who stopped them
than if he had stopped Daniel's enemies in
the beginning of their wicked design. So hot
was their rage, that the king’s favorable in-
clination to Daniel (of which, in other cases,
courtiers used to be so devout observers), yea,
his contesting and pleading for him, did profit
him nothing, but they hurried their king to
the execution of their unjust malice, though
themselves were convinced that nothing could
be found against him, but only concerning the
law of his God. Dan. vi. 5. It is said, wer. 14,
that King Darius set his heart on Daniel to
deliver him, and he labored to do it till the
going down of the sun, and then those coun-
sellors and counsels of darkness overcame
him. But upon this black night of their pre-
vailing wrath, followed a bright morning of
praises to Daniel's God, when the lions that
were so quiet company all night to Daniel,
made so quick a breakfast of those accursed
courtiers who had maliciously accused him.
Even so let thine enemies perish, O Lord, and
let those that love thee be as the sun when he
goes forth in his might !
The other proposition concerns the limiting
of his wrath: The remainder of wrath thou
wilt restrain.
To take no notice, for the present, of divers
other readings of these words, the sense of
them, as they are here very well rendered, may
be briefly this : that whereas the wrath of
man to which God gives way, shall praise him,
the rest shall be curbed and bound up, as the
word is ; no more of it shall break forth than
shall contribute to his glory. Here should be
considered divers ways and means by which
God useth to stop the heady course of man’s
wrath, and hinder its proceeding any further;
but only, for the present, let us take out of
it this lesson, that the most compendious way
to be safe from the violence of men, is to be
on terms of friendship with God.
Is it not an incomparable privilege, to be
in the favor and under the protection of ONE,
whose power is so transcendent that no ene-
my can so much as stir without his leave 2
Be persuaded, then, Christians, in these dan-
gers that are now so near us, every one to
draw near to him. Remove what may pro-
voke him. Let no reigning sin be found ei-
ther in your cities or in your villages, for he
is a holy God. Is it a time to multiply prov-
ocations now, or is it not rather high time to
be humbled for the former ? What shame-
less impiety is it, to be now licentious or
intemperate, to be proud, to oppress or ex-
tort, to profane God's day, and blaspheme
his name ! All these sins, and many others,
abound among us, and that avowedly. With-
out abundance of repentance for these, we
shall smart, and the wrath of our enemies,
though unjust in them, shall praise God in
our just punishment; though,doubtless, he will
own his church, and be praised likewise in
the final punishment of their wrath who rise
against it. There is a remarkable expres-
sion in the ninety-ninth Psalm, of God's deal-
ing with his people: Thou wast a God that
forgavest them, though thou tookest ven-
geance on their inventions. A good cause and
a covenant with God, will not shelter an
impenitent people from sharper correction.
It is a sad word God speaks by his prophet
to his own people: I myself will fight against
you, Jer. xxi. 5. A dreadful enemy! and
none, indeed, are truly dreadful but he. Oh
prevent his anger, and you are safe enough.
If perverse sinners will not, hear, yet, let
those who are indeed Christians, mourn in
secret, not only for their own sins, but let
them bestow some tears likewise upon the
sins of others. Labor to appease the wrath
of God, and he will either appease man's
wrath, or, howsoever, will turn it jointly to
our benefit and his own glory. Let the fear
of the most high God, who hath no less pow-
er of the strongest of his enemies, than over
the meanest of his servants; let his fear, I
say, possess all our hearts, and it will cer-
tainly expel that ignoble and base fear of the
wrath of man. See how the prophet oppo-
ses them, Isa. viii. 12. Fear not their fears,
says he, nor be afraid : but sanctify the Lord
of hosts himself, and let him be your fear,
and let him be your dread. Fear mot, yet
fear. This holy fear begets the best courage:
the breast that is most filled with it, abounds
most in true magnanimity. Fear thus, that
you may be confident, not in yourselves,
though your policy and strength were great,
for cursed is the man that trusteth in man,
and maketh flesh his arm, but confident in
that God who is too wise and vigilant to be
surprised, too mighty to be foiled, and too
rich to be outspent in provision ; who can
suffer his enemy to come to the highest point
of apparent advantage, without any incon-
venience, yea, with more renown in his con-
quest. And so, a Christian who is made once
sure of this (as easily he may), is little care-
ful about the rest. His love to God prevail-
ing over all his affections, makes him very
indifferent what becomes of himself or his
dearest friends, so God may be glorified
What though many fall in the quarrel,
(which God avert () yet, it is sufficient that
truth in the end shall be victorious. Have
not the saints in all ages been content to con-
PsALM czii. 7.]
495
THE BELIEVER A HERO.
vey pure religion to posterity, in streams of
their own blood, not of others? Well, hold
fast by this conclusion, that God can limit
and bind up the most violent wrath of man,
so that, though it swell, it will not break
forth. The stiffest heart, as the current of
the most impetuous rivers, is in his hand, to
appoint its channels, and turn it as he pleas-
eth. Yea, it is he that hath shut up the very
Sea with bars and doors, and said, Hitherto
shalt thou come and no farther, here shall thy
proud waves be stayed. Job xxxviii. 10, 11.
To see the surges of a rough sea come in
toward the shore, a man would think that
they were hastening to swallow up the land;
but they know their limits, and are beaten
back into foam. Though the waves thereof
toss themselves, as angry at their restraint,
yet, the small sand is a check to the great
Sea, yet can they not prevail : though they
roar, yet can they not pass over it. Jer. v. 22.
The sum is this: what God permits his
church's enemies to do, is for his own further
glory; and reserving this, there is not any
wrath of man so great, but he will either
Sweetly calm it, or strongly restrain it. To
him be praise and dominion for ever.
fº-mºm-
SERMON XII.
THE BELIEVER A HERO.
PsALM. cxii. 7.
He shall not be afraid of evil tidings; his heart is
fixed, trusting in the Lord.
ALL the special designs of men agree in
this ; they seek satisfaction and quietness of
mind, that is, happiness. This, then, is the
great question, Who is the happy man 2 It
is here resolved, ver. 1: Blessed is the man
that feareth the Lord, that delighteth in his
commandments.
The blessedness is unfolded, like a rich
landscape, that we may view the well-mixed
colors, the story and tissue of it, through the
whole alphabet in capital letters. And take
all and set them together, it is a most full
and complete blessedness, not a letter want-
ing to it.* Among the rest, that which we
have in these words, is of a greater magni-
tude and brightness than many of the rest,
He shall not be afraid of evil things.
Well may the Psalm begin with a Halle-
lujah, a note of praise to him in whom this
blessedness lies. Oh, what a wretched crea-
ture were man, if not provided with such a
portion . Without which there is nothing
but disappointment, and thence the racking
* This Psalm, in the Hebrew, consists of twenty-
two short verses, each of which begins with one of
the letters of the alphabet in their order, till they are
allended. No one letter is here omitted, as is the
C3 Se . the xxvth Psalm, where the same order is ob.
Serveſi,
torment and vexation of a disquieted mind,
still pursuing somewhat that he never over-
takes.
The first words are the inscription, The
blessedness of that man, &c. So, the partic-
ulars follow; where outward blessings are so
set, as that they look and lead higher, point-
ing at their end, the infinite goodness whence
they flow, and whither they return and car-
ry along with them this happy man. .
And these promises of outward things are
often evidently accomplished to the righte-
ous, and their seed after them, and that,
commonly, after they have been brought
very low. But when it is otherwise with
them, they lose nothing. It is good for many,
yea, it is good for all the godly, that they
should have less of these lower things, in or-
der to raise their eye to look after higher-
the eye of all, both of those who are held
somewhat short, and of those that have abun-
dance in the world.
These temporal promises were more aboun-
ding, and more frequently, fulfilled in their
very kind, in the times of the law ; yet, still
the right is constant, and all ages do give
clear examples of the truth of this word.
Where it is thus, it is a blessing created by
its aspect to this promise, and so differs from
the prosperity of ungodly men; and where
it is otherwise with the righteous and their
seed, it is no shift, but a most solid comfort,
to turn their eyes to a higher compensation.
But, howsoever it go with them, this still
holds, He shall not be afraid of evil tidings.
Notwithstanding the hardest news that can
come to his ears, of anything that concerns
either himself or his children, or the rest of
God's children in his charge, in the world,
his heart is fired, trusting in the Lord.
First, let us take a view of the character
of this blessed man. Who is it that is thus
undaunted 2 The man that feareth God.
All the passions are but several ebbings
and flowings of the soul, and their motions
are the signs of its temper, which way it is
carried; that is mainly to be remarked by
the beating of its pulse. If our desires, and
hopes, and fears, be in the things of this
world, and the interests of flesh, this is their
distemper and disorder, the soul is in a con-
tinual fever. But if they move Godward,
then it is composed and calm, in a good tem-
per and healthful state, fearing and loving
him, desiring him, and nothing but him;
waiting for him, and trusting, in him. And
when any one affection is right and in a due
aspect to God, all the rest are so too; for
they are radically one. And he is the life of
that soul which is united to him ; and so, in
him, it moves in a peculiar spiritual manner,
as all do naturally in the dependance of their
ºral life on him who is the Fountain of
II6.
Thus we have here this fear of God, as oft-
en elsewhere, set out as the very substance of
holiness and evidence of happiness. And that
496
[SER. XII.
THE BELIEVER A HERO.
we may know there is nothing either base or
grievous in this fear, we have joined with it,
delight and trust : That delighteth greatly
in his commandments: which is that badge
of love to him, to observe them, and that
with delight, and with exceeding great de-
light. So them, this fear is not that which love
casts out, but that which love brings in. This
fear follows and flows from love. It is a ſear
to offend, whereof nothing is so tender as
love, and that, in respect of the greatness of
God, hath in it withal an humble reverence.
There is in all love a kind of reverence, a
cautious and respective wariness toward the
party loved ; but especially in this, where
not only we stand in a lower relation, as
children to our Father, but the goodness
which draws our love doth infinitely tran-
scend our measures and reach : therefore,
there is a rejoicing with trembling, and an
awful love, a fearing the Lord and his good-
ness. Hos., iii. 5. This is both fear and
trust. The heart touched by the spirit of God,
as the needle touched with the loadstone,
looks straight and speedily to God, yet still
.. trembling, being filled with this holy
€3.T.
That delighteth. Oh ! this is not only to
do them, but to do them with delight: there
is somewhat within that is connatural and
symbolical with them. Yea, this very law
itself is writ within, not standing as a hard
taskmaster over our head, but impressed
within, as a sweet principle in our hearts,
and working thence naturally. This makes
a soul find pleasure in the purging out
of sensual pleasures, and ease in doing vio-
lence to corrupt self, even undoing it for God,
having no will but his. The remainders of
sin and self in our flesh, will be often rising
up, but this predominant love dispels them.
So, this fear works with delight.
And further, that we may know how se-
rene and sweet a thing it is, it is here like-
wise joined with confidence, trusting in the
Lord ; a quickening confidence always ac-
companying it, and so, undoubtedly, it is a
blessed thing. Blessed is he that feareth.
Fear sounds rather quite contrary, hath an
air of misery ; but add, whom 2 That fear-
eth the Lord. That touch turns it into gold.
He that so fears, fears not: He shall not be
afraid. All petty fears are swallowed up in
this great fear, as a spirit inured with great
things, is not stirred nor affected at all with
small matters. And this great fear is as
Sweet and pleasing as those little fears are
anxious and vexing. Secure of other things,
he can say, If my God be pleased, no matter
who is displeased. No matter who despise
me, if he account me his. Though all for-
sake me, my dearest friends grow estranged,
and look another way, if he reject me not,
that is my only fear, and for that I am not
perplexed ; I know he will not. As they an-
swered Alexander, when he sent to inquire
what they most feared, thinking possibly
they would have said, lest he should invade
them ; but their answer was, We fear noth-
ing but lest heaven should fall upon us ;
which they did not fear neither: so, a be-
liever hath no fear but of the displeasure of
heaven, lest the anger of God should fall up-
on him ; he fears that ; that is, accounts
that only terrible ; but yet, he doth not fear,
doth not apprehend it will fall upon him, he
is better persuaded of the goodness of his
God. So this fear is still joined with trust,
as here, so often elsewhere. Psalm xxxiii. 18,
xl. 3, and cylvii. 11.
There is no turbulency in this fear; it is
calm and sweet. Even that most terrible
evil, that which this fear properly apprehends
and flies, sin, yet, the fear of that goes not
to a distraction. Though there is little
strength, and many and great enemies, mighty
Anakims of temptations from without, and
corruptions within, and so, good reason for a
holy, humble fear and self-distrust, yea, this
should not beat us off: yet, it is most fit to
put us on to trust in Him who is our strength.
Courage the day shall be ours. Though
we may be often foiled and down, and some-
times almost at a hopeless point, yet, our
Head is on high. He hath conquered for us,
and shall conquer in us. Therefore, so fear
as not to fear. Why should I fear in the
days of evil, says the psalmist, when the in-
iquity of my heels shall compass me about 2
Psalm xlix. 5. (Which I take is some griev-
ous affliction, and that with a visage of pun-
ishment of sin: guiltiness is to be read in it,
yet does he not fear.) If I trusted in wealth,
and boastsd myself in the multitude of riches,
then that being in hazard, I must fear: lean-
ing on that, it failing, I might fall. But this
is my confidence (ver. 15), God will redeem my
soul from the power of the grave, for he shall
receive me. Wealth can not, but he can. It
buys not a man out from his hand, but he
buys, from the hand of the grave ; so the
word is. For the visible heavens even in
their fall, and the dissolution of nature,
would not affright a believer, Si fractus illa-
balur orbis, &c.
Alas! most persons have dull or dim ap-
prehensions and shallow impressions of God;
therefore they have little either of this fear or
of this trust. God is not in all their thoughts,
but how to compass this or that design, and
if they miss one, then how to compass another:
they are cast from one wave upon another.
And if at any time they attain their purpose,
they find it but a wind, a handful of nothing,
far from what they fancied it. .
Oh, my brethrén, my desire is, that the
faces of your souls were but once turned about,
that they were toward him, looking to him,
continually fearing him, delighting, trusting
in him, making him your all. Can anything
so elevate and ennoble the spirit of a man, as
to contemplate and converse with the pure,
ever-blessed spring and Father of spirits?
| Beg that you may know him, that he would
PsA.M. cxii. 7.]
497
THE BELIEVER A HERO.
reveal himself to you; for otherwise, no teach-
ing can make him known. It is to light can-
dles to seek the sun, to think to attain to this
knowledge without his own revealing it. If
he hide his face, who then may behold him 3
Pray for this quickening knowledge, such a
knowledge as will effectually work this happy
fear and trust.
You who have attained anything of it, desire
and follow on to know the Lord ; particularly,
so that your hearts may repose on him. So
fear that you may not fear. He would have
our spirits calm and quiet; for when they are
in a hurry and confusion, they are then fit for
nothing: all within makes a jarring, unpleas-
ant noise, as of an instrument quite out of
tune.
This fear of God is not, you see, a perplex-
ing doubting and distrust of his love: on the
fºy, it is a fixed resting and trust on his
OW 62.
Many who have some truth of grace, are,
through weakness, filled with disquieting
fears; but possibly, though they perceive it
not, it may be in some, a point of wilfulness,
a little latent, undiscerned affectation of scrup-
ling and doubting, placing much of religion
in it. True, where the soul is really solicit-
ous about its interest in God, that argues some
grace; but being vexingly anxious about it,
argues that grace is low and weak. A spark
there is, even discovered by that smoke ; but
the great smoke still continuing, and nothing
seen but it, argues there is little fire, little
faith, little love.
And this, as it is unpleasant to thyself, so
is it to God, as smoke to the eyes. What if
one should be always questioning with his
friend, whether he loved him or not, and upon
every little occasion were ready to think he
doth not, how would this disrelish their society
together, though truly loving each other
The far more excellent way, and more pleas-
ing both to ourselves and to God, were to re-
solve on humble trust, reverence, and confi-
dence, being most afraid to offend, delighting
to walk in his ways, loving him and his will
in all, and then, resting persuaded of his love,
though he chastise us. And even though we
offend him, and see out offences in our chas-
tisements, yet he is good, plenteaus in redemp-
tion, ready to forgive; therefore let Israel
trust and hope. Psalm crxx. 7. Let my soul
roll itself on him, and adventure there all its
weight. He bears greater matters, upholding
the frame of heaven and earth, and is not
troubled nor burdened with it.
The heart of a man is not sufficient for
self-support; therefore, naturally, it seeks out
Some other thing to lean and rest itself on.
The unhappiness is, for the most part, that it
seeks to things below itself; but these, being
both so mean and so uncertain, can not be a
firm and certain stay to it. These things are
not fixed themselves: how can they then fix
the heart? Can a man have firm footing on
a quagmire, or moving sands ! Therefore,
men are forced in these things, still to shift
their seat, and seek about from one to another,
still rolling and unsettled. The believer onl
hath this advantage; he hath a rest hig
enough and sure enough, out of the reach of
all hazards. His heart is fia.ed, trusting in
the Lord.
The basis of this happiness is, He trusteth
in the Lord. So the heart is fired ; and so
fixed, it fears no ill tidings.
This trust is grounded on the word of God,
revealing the power and all-sufficiency of God,
and withal his goodness, his offer of himself
to be the stay of souls, his commanding us to
rest on him. People wait on I know not what
persuasions and assurances, but I know no
other to build faith on, than the word of prom-
ise, the truth and faithfulness of God opened
up, his wisdom, and power, and goodness, as
the stay of all those who, renouncing all other
props, will venture on it, and lay all upon him.
He that believes, sets to his seal that God is
true, John iii. 33, and so, he is sealed for God;
his portion and interest are secured. If ye
will not believe, surely ye shall not be estab-
lished. Isa. vii. 9.
This is the way to have peace and assurance,
which many look for first, Thou wilt keep him
in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee,
because he trusteth in thee. Isa. xxvi. 3. So
here, the heart is fixed by trusting.
Seek, then, clearer apprehensions of the
faithfulness and goodness of God, hearts more
enlarged in the notion of free grace, and the
absolute trust due to it; thus shall they be
more established and fixed in all the rollings
and changes of the world.
His heart is fired, or prepared, ready-dressed
and in arms for all services, resolved not to
give back, able to meet all adventures, and
stand its ground. God is unchangeable, and
therefore faith is invincible. That sets the
heart on him, fastens it there on the rock of
eternity; then, let winds blow, and storms
arise, it cares not.
This firm and close cleaving unto God hath
in it of the affection which is inseparable from
this trust, love, joined with faith, and so, a
hatred of all ways and thoughts that alienate.
and estrange from God, that remove and un-
settle the heart. The holiest, wariest heart
is surely the most believing and fixed heart.
If a believer will adventure on any way of sin,
he shall find that it will unfix him, and shake
his confidence, more than ten thousand hazards
and assaults from without. These are so far
from moving, that they settle and fix the heart
commonly more, eausing it to cleave the closer
and nearer unto God; but sinful liberty breeds
disquiet, and disturbs all. Where sin is, there
will be a storm : the wind within the bowels.
of the earth, makes the earthquake. - - -
Would you be quiet, and have peace within
in troublous times? keep near unto God, be-
ware of anything that may interpose between
you and your confidence. It is good for me,
says the psalmist, to be near God; not only
63
498
[SER. XII.
THE BELIEVER A HERO.
to draw near, but to keep near, to cleave to
him, and dwell in him: so the word imports.
Oh, the sweet calm of such a soul amidst all
storms' Thus, once trusting and fixed, then
no more fear: he is not afraid of evil tidings,
not of any ill-hearing. Whatsoever sound is
terrible in the ears of men, the noise of war,
news of death, or even the sound of the trum-
pet in the last judgment, he hears all this
undisquieted. Nothing is unexpected. Being
once fixed on God, then the heart may put
cases to itself, and suppose all things imagi-
nable, the most terrible, and look for them ;
not trouble before trouble comes, with dark
and dismal apprehensions, but satisfied in a
quiet, unmoved expectation of the hardest
things. Whatsoever it is, though particular-
ly not thought on before, yet the heart is not
afraid of the news of it, because it is fired,
trusting on the Lord. Nothing can shake
that foundation, nor dissolve that union ;
therefore, no fear. Yea, this assurance stays
the heart in all things, how strange and un-
foreseen soever to it. All are foreseen to my
God on whom I trust, yea are forecontrived
and ordered by him. This is the impregnable
fortress of a soul. All is at the disposal and
command of my God; my Father rules all:
what need I fear 2
Every one trusts to somewhat. As for
honor, and esteem, and popularity, they are
airy, Vain things; but riches seem a more
solid work and fence, yet they are but a tower
in conceit, not really. Prov. xviii. 11. The
rich man's wealth is his strong city, and as a
high wall in his own conceit. But (ver. 10),
the name of the Lord is a strong tower, indeed,
This is the thing that all seek, some fence and
firing ; here it is. We call you not to vexa-
tion and turmoil, but from it, and, as St. Paul
said, Whom ye ignorantly worship, him declare
iſ unto you. Ye blindly and fruitlessly seek
after the show. The true aiming at this fixed-
ness of mind will secure that, though they
fall short, yet, by the way they will light on
very pretty things that have some virtue in
them, as they that seek the philosopher's
stone. But the believer hath the thing, the
secret itself of tranquillity and joy, and this
turns all into gold, their iron chains into a
crown of gold: While we look not at the things
which are seen, but at the things which are not
..seem. 2 Cor. iv. 17, 18.
This is the blessed and safe estate of be-
lievers...Who can think they have a sad,
heavy life? ... Oh! it is the only lightsome,
sweet, cheerful condition in the world. The
rest of men are poor, rolling, unstayed things,
every report shaking them, as the leaves of
trees are shaken with the wind; yea, lighter
than so, as the chaff that the wind drives to
and fro at its pleasure. Isa. vii. 2; Psalm i. 4.
Would men but reflect and look in upon their
own hearts, it is a wonder what vain, childish
things the most would find there, glad and
sorry at things as light as the toys of children,
at which they laugh and cry in a breath.
How easily is the heart puffed up with a thing
or a word that pleaseth us, bladder-like,
swelled with a little air, and it shrinks again
in discouragements and fear, upon the touch
of a needle's point, which gives that air some
Went.
What is the life of the greatest part but a
continual tossing between vain hopes and
fears 2 All their days are spent in these.
Oh how vain a thing is a man even in his
best estate, while he is nothing but himself
—while his heart is not united and fixed on
God, and he is disquieted in vain. How small
a thing will do it! He needs no other than
his own heart; it may prove disquietment
enough to itself: his thoughts are his tor-
In entOrS.
I know some men are, by a stronger under-
standing and by moral principles, somewhat
raised above the vulgar, and speak big of a
constancy of mind ; but these are but flour-
ishes, an acted bravery. Somewhat there
may be that will hold out in some trials, but
it will fall far short of this fixedness of faith.
Troubles may so multiply, as to drive them
at length from their posture, and may come
on so thick, with such violent blows, as will
smite them out of their artificial guard, dis-
order all their Seneca and Epictetus, and all
their own calm thoughts and high resolves.
The approach of death, though they make a
good mien, and set the best face on it, or if
not, yet, some kind of terror, may seize on
their spirits, which they are not able to shift
off. But the soul trusting on God, is prepared
for all, not only for the calamities of war,
pestilence, famine, poverty, or death, but
when in the saddest apprehensions of the soul
beyond hope, believes against hope ; even ir
the darkest night, casts anchor in God, re
poses on him when he sees no light. Is. l. 10
Yea, though he slay me, says Job, yet will J
trust on him—not merely, though I die, but,
though he slay me; when I see his hand lifted
up to destroy me, yet, from that same hand
will I look for salvation.
My brethren, my desire is, to stir up in
your hearts an ambition after this blessed
estate of the godly who fear the Lord, and
trust in him, and so fear no other thing. The
common revolutions and changes of the world,
and those which in these late times we our-
selves have seen, and the likelihood of more
and greater coming on, seem dreadful to weak
minds. But let these persuade us the more
to prize and seek this fixed, unaffrighted sta-
tion : there is no fixing but here.
Oh! that you would be persuaded to break
off from the vile ways of sin, which debase
the soul and fill it full of terrors, and to dis-
engage them from the vanities of this world,
to take up in God, to live in him wholly, to
cleave to and depend on him, to esteem noth
ing beside him Excellent was the answer
of that holy man to the emperor, on his first
essaying him with large proffers of honor and
riches to draw him from Christ: Offer these
PSALM cxii. 7.]
499.
THE BELIEVER A HERO.
things (says he) to children, I regard them
not. Then after he had tried to terrify him
with threatening : Threaten (says he) your
effeminate courtiers, I fear none of these
things.
Seek to have your hearts established on
him by the faith of eternal life, and then it
will be ashamed to distrust him in any other
thing. Yea, truly, you will not much regard,
nor be careful for other things how they be.
It will be all one, the better and the worse
of this moment ; the things of it, even the
greatest, being both in themselves so little
and worthless, and of so short continuance.
Well, choose you ; but all reckoned and ex-
amined, I had rather be the poorest believer
than the greatest king on earth. How small
a commotion, small in its beginning, may
prove the overturning of the greatest king-
dom | But the believer is heir to a kingdom
that can not be shaken. The mightiest and
most victorious prince, who hath not only lost
nothing, but hath been gaining new conquests
all his days, is stopped by a small distemper
in the middle of his course ; he returns to his
dust, and then his vast designs fall to nothing.
In that very day his thoughts perish. But the
believer, in that very day, is sent to the pos-
session of his crown : that is his coronation-
day ; all his thoughts are accomplished.
How can you affright him 2 Bring him
word that his estate is ruined. “Yet, my in-
heritance is #. says he. “Your wife, or
child, or dear friend, is dead.”—“Yet my Fa-
ther lives.”—“You yourself must die.”—
“Well, then, I go home to my Father, and to
my inheritance.”
For the public troubles of the church, doubt-
less, it is both a pious and a generous temper,
to be more deeply affected for these than for
all our private ones: and to be alive to the
common calamities of any people, but espe-
cially of God's own people, hath been the
character of men near unto him. Observe
the pathetical strains of the prophets' bewail-
ing, when they foretell the desolation even of
foreign kingdoms, much more when foretel-
ling that of the Lord's chosen people ; they
are still mindful of Sion, and mournful for her
distresses. See Jer. ix. 1, and the whole book
of Lamentations. So the psalmist: If I for-
get thee, O Jerusalem, &c. Psalm czxxvii. 5.
Pious spirits are always public-spirited, as
even brave heathens were for the com-
monwealth. . So he, in that passage of Hor-
ace :* “Little regarding himself, but much
solicitous for the public.” Yet even in this,
with much compassion, there is a calm in a
believer's mind. How these agree, none can
tell but they who feel it. He finds amid all
hard news, yet still a fired heart, trusting,
satisfied in this, that deliverance shall come
in due time (Psalm cii. 13), and that in those
judgments that are inflicted, man shall be
* Invenit insomnivolventem publica curá
Fata virtim, casusque urbis, cunctisque timentem,
Securumque sui.
humbled and God exalted (Isa. ii. 11; v. 16),
and that in all tumults, and changes and sub-
versions of states, still, his throne is fixed, and
with that the believer's heart likewise. So
Psalm xxix. 10: The Lord sitteth upon the
jlood : yea, the Lord sitteth king for ever.
Or, sat in the flood, possibly referring to the
general deluge; yet, then, God sat quiet, and
still sitteth king for ever. He steered the ark,
and still guides his church through all. So
Psalm xlvi., throughout that whole Psalm.
In all commotions, the kingdom of Christ
shall be spreading and growing, and the close
of all shall be full victory on his side: and
that is sufficient for the believer.
Of this, a singular example is in Job, who
was not daunted with so many ill-hearings,
but stood as an unmoved rock amid the
winds and waves: Ille velut rupes immota
manebat.
In this condition there is so much sweet-
mess that, if known, a man might suspect
himself to be rather selfishly taken with it,
than to be purely loving God. Such joy in
believing, or at least such peace, such a se-
rene calmness, is in no other thing in this
world. Nothing either without or within a
man is to be named with this trusting on his
goodness, who is God, and on his faithful-
ness, who, giving his promise for thy warrant,
commands thee to rely on him. The holy
soul still trusts under the darkest apprehen-
sions. If it is suggested that thou art a rep-
robate, yet will the soul say, “I will see the
utmost, and hang by the hold I have, till I
feel myself really cast off, and will not wil-
lingly fall off. If I must be separated from
him, he shall do it himself; he shall shake
me off while I would cleave to him. Yea, to
the utmost, I will look for mercy, and will
hope better: though I found him shaking me
off, yet will I think he will not do it.” It is
good to seek after all possible assurance, but
not to fret at the want of it; for even without
those assurances which some Christians hang
too much upon, there is in simple trust and
reliance on God, and in a desire to walk in
his ways, such a fortress of peace, as all the
assaults in the world are not able to make a
breach in. And to this add that unspeakable
delight in walking in his fear, joined with
this trust. The noble ambition of pleasing
him, makes one careless of pleasing or dis-
pleasing all the world. , Besides, the delight
in his commandments, in so pure, so just a
law, holiness, victory over lusts, and temper-
ance, hath a sweetness in it that presently
; itself, because it is agreeable to his
will.
It is the godly man alone, who, by this fixed
consideration in God, looks the grim visage
of death in the face with an unappalled mind,
which damps all the joys, and defeats all the
hopes of the most prosperous, proudest, and
wisest worldlings. As Archimedes said, when
shot, Avocasti ab optima demonstratione, so it
spoils all their figures and fine devices, But
500
[SER. XIII.
THE PARABLE OF THE SOWER.
to the righteous, there is hope in his death.
He goes through it without fear, without
Caligula's Quo vadis. Though riches, hon-
ors, and all the glories of this world, are with
a man, yet he fears; yea, he fears the more
for these, because here they must end. But
the good man looks death out of countenance,
in the words of David, Though I walk through
the valley and shadow of death, yet will I fear
no evil, for thou art with me. Psalm xxiii. 4.
SERMION XIII.
THE PARABLE OF THE soweR.
MATT. xiii. 3.
And he spake many things unto them in parables,
saying, Behold a sower went forth to sow.
THE rich bounty of God hath furnished our
natural life, not barely for strict necessity, but
with great abundance: many kinds of beasts,
and fowls, and fishes, and herbs, and fruits,
has he provided for the use of man. Thus
our spiritual life likewise is supported with a
variety: the word, the food of it, hath not
only all necessary truths once simply set
down, but a great variety of doctrine for our
more abundant instruction and consolation.
Among the rest, this way of similitudes hath
a notable commixture of profit and delight.
Parables not unfolded and understood, are
a veil (as here) to the multitude ; and in that
view, they are a great judgment (as Isa. vi.
9, cited here): but when cleared and made
transparent, then they are a glass to behold
Divine things in more commodiously and suit-
ably to our way. All things are big with
such resemblances, but they require the dex-
terous hand of an active spirit to bring them
forth. This way, beside other advantages, is
much graced and commended by our Savior's
frequent use of it.
That which is given here, is fitted to the
occasion : multitudes were coming to hear
him, and many were not a whit the better for
it. He instructs us in this point, the great dif-
ference between the different hearts of men,
so that the same word hath very different suc-
cess in them.
In this parable we shall consider these three
things: 1. The nature of the word itself. 2.
The sameness and commonness of the dispen-
sation. 3. The difference of the operation and
production.
The word, the seed, hath in it a productive
yirtue to bring forth fruit according to its
kind, that is, the fruit of a new life; not only
a new habitude and fashion of life without,
but a new nature, a new kind of life within,
new thoughts, a new estimate of things, new
delights and actions. When the word reveals
God, his greatness and holiness, then it begets
pious fear and reverence, and study of con-
formity to him. When it reveals his good-
ness and mercy, it works love and confidence.
When it holds up to our view Christ cruci-
fied, it crucifies the soul to the world, and the
world to it. When it represents those rich
things which are laid up for us, that blessed
inheritance of the saints, then it makes all the
Iustre of this world vanish, shows how poor
it is, weans and calls off the heart from them,
raising it to those higher hopes, and sets it on
the project of a crown. And so it is a seed
of noble thoughts and of a suitable behavior
in a Christian, as in the exposition of this
parable, as it is called the word of the king-
dom. ; seed, an immortal seed, as St. Peter
calls it, 1 Peter i. 23, springing up to no less
than eternal life.
This teaches us, 1. Highly to esteem the
great goodness of God to those places and
times which have been most blessed with it.
He showeth his word unto Jacob, his statutes
and his judgments unto Israel. He hath not
dealt so with any nation ; and as for his judg-
ments, they have not known them. Psalm
cxlvii. 19.
2. That the same dispensation is to be
preached indifferently to all where it comes,
as far as the sound can reach. And thus it
was very much extended in the first promul-
gating of the gospel; their sound went out
through all the earth, as the apostle allusively
applies that of the psalmist. Romans x. 18;
Psalm xix. 4.
3. This teaches also ministers liberally to
sow this seed at all times, according to that,
In the morning sow thy seed, and in the even-
ing withhold not thy hand, &c. (Eccl. xi. 6),
praying earnestly to him who is the Lord, not
only of the harvest, but of the seedtime, and
of this seed, to make it fruitful. This is his
peculiar work. So the apostle acknowledges,
I have planted, Apollos watered, but God gave
the increase. 1 Cor. iii. 6.
4. Hence we also learn the success to be
very different. This is most evident in men:
while one is cast into the mould and fashion
of the word, and so moulded and fashioned by
it, another is no whit changed ; while one
heart is melting before it, another is still
hardened under it.
So, then, this is not all, to have the word
and to hear it, as if that would serve our turn
and save us, as we commonly fancy, The
temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord
are we. Multitudes under the continual sound
of the word, yet remain lifeless and fruitless,
and die in their sins. Therefore, we must in-
quire and examine strictly, what becomes of
it, how it works, what it brings forth ; and
for this very end, this parable declares so
many are fruitless. We need not press them,
they are three to one here ; yea, that were
too narrow, the odds is far greater, for these
are but the kinds of unfruitful grounds, and
under each of these are comprised huge mul-
titudes of individuals, so that there may be a
hundred to one, and it is to be feared that in
many congregations it is more than so.
Whence is then the difference 2 Not from
MATT. xiii. 3..]
561
THE PARABLE OF THE SOWER.
the seed; that is the same to all. Not from
the Sower neither, for though these be divers,
and of different abilities, yet it hangs little or
nothing on that. Indeed, he is the fittest to
preach, who is himself most like his message,
and comes forth not only with a handful of
this seed in his hand, but with store of it in his
heart, the word dwelling richly in him ; yet,
howsoever, the seed he sows, being this word
of life, depends not on his qualifications in
any kind, either of common gifts, or special
grace. People mistake this much, and it is
a carnal conceit to hang on the advantages
of the minister, or to eye that much. The
sure way is, to look up to God, and to look
into thine own heart. An unchanged, unsoft-
ened heart, like an evil soil, disappoints the
fruit. What though sown by a weak hand,
yea, possibly a foul one, yet if received into a
clean and honest heart, it will fructify much.
There is in the world a needless and prejudi-
cial distinguishing of men, out of which peo-
ple will not come, for all we can say.
The first bad ground is a highway. Now
we have a commentary here, whence we may
not, and will not depart : it is authentic and
full. It is those who hear the word and under-
stand it not. Wer. 19. Gross, brutish spirits,
who perceive not what is said, are as if they
were not there, sit like blocks, one log of
wood upon another ; as he said, Lapis super
Čapidem in theatro. This is our brutish mul-
titude. What pity is it to see so many, such
as have not so much as a natural apprehen-
sion of spiritual truths Their hearts are the
common road of all passengers, of all kinds of
foolish, brutish thoughts; seeking nothing but
how to live, and yet they know not to what
end, have no design ; trivial, highway hearts,
which all temptations pass through at their
pleasure ; profane as Esau, which some crit-
ics draw from a word signifying the threshold,
the outer step that every foul foot treads on.
These retain nothing; there is no hazard
of that ; and yet, the enemy of souls, to make
all sure, lest peradventure some word might
take root unawares, some grain of this seed,
is busy to pick it away; to take them off from
all reflection, all serious thoughts, or the re-
membrance of anything spoken to them. And
if any common word is remembered, yet it
doth no good, for that is trodden down like
the rest ; though the most is picked up, be-
cause it lies on the road. So it is expressed,
Mark iv. 4.
The second is stony ground ; hard hearts,
not softened and made penetrable to receive
in deeply this ingrafted word with meekness,
with humble yielding and submission to it;
the rocks. Yet, in these, there is often somere-
ceiving of it, and a little slender moisture above
them, which the warm air may make spring
up a little ; they receive with joy, have a lit-
tle present delight in it, are moved and taken
With the sermon, possibly even to the shed-
ding of some tears: but the misery is, there
is want of depth of earth, it sinks not.
No wonder if there is some present delight
in these. Therefore, the word of the king-
dom, especially if skilfully and sensibly de-
livered by some more able speaker, pleases.
Let it be but a fancy, yet it is a fine pleasant
one ; such love as induced the Son of God to
die for sinners; such a rich purchase made
as a kingdom ; such glory and sweetness.
Therefore the description of the new Jerusa-
lem, Rev. xxi., suppose it to be but a dream,
or one of the visions of the night, yet it is
passing fine; it must needs please a mind
that heeds what is said of it. There is a nat-
ural delight in spiritual things, and thus the
word of the prophet, as the Lord tells him
(Ezek. xxxiii. 32), was as a minstrel's voice,
a fine song so long as it lasted, but which
dies out in the air. It may be, the relish and
air of it will remain awhile in the imagina-
tion, but not long ; even that wears out and
is forgotten. So here, it is heard with joy,
and some is springing up presently: they
commend it, and, it may be, repeat some pas-
Sages, yea, possibly desire to be like it, to
have such and such graces as are recommend-
ed, and upon that think they have them, are
presently good Christians in their own con-
ceit. And to appearance, some change is
wrought, and it appears to be all that it is ;
but it is not deep enough. They talk, possi-
bly, too much, more than those whose hearts
receive it more deeply: there it lies hid
longer, and little is heard of it; others may
think it is lost, and, possibly, themselves do
not perceive that it is there; they are exer-
cised and humbled at it, and find no good in
their own hearts; yet, there it is hid ; as
David says, Thy word have I hid in my heart.
And as seed in a manner dies in a silent,
smothering way, yet, it is in order to the fruc-
tifying and the reviving of it, so it will spring
up in time, and be fruitful in its season—
with patience, as St. Luke hath it of the good
ground; not so suddenly, but much more
surely and solidly.
But the most are present mushroom Chris-
tians, soon ripe, soon rotten. The seed goes
never deep : it springs up indeed, but any-
thing blasts and withers it. There is little
root in some. If trials arise, either the heat
of persecution without, or a temptation with-
in, this sudden spring-seed can stand before
neither.
Oh, rocky hearts! How shallow, shallow,
are the impressions of Divine things upon
you ! Religion goes never farther than the up-
per surface of your hearts. You have but few
deep thoughts of God, and of Jesus Christ,
and the things of the world to come ; all are
but slight and transient glances.
The third is, thorny ground. This relates
to the cares, and pleasures, and all the inte-
rests of this life. See Mark iv. 1; and Luke
viii. 5. All these together are the thorns.
And these grow in hearts which do more
deeply receive the seed, and send it forth, and
and in which it springs up more hopefully
502
[SER. XIII.
"THE PARABLE OF THE SOWER.
than in either of the other two, and yet they
choke it. Oh, the pity!
Many are thus almost at heaven ; there is
so much desire of renovation, and some en-
deavors after it, and yet, the thorns prevail.
Miserable thorns, the base things of a perish-
ing life, drawing away the strength of affec-
tions, sucking the sap of the soul | Our oth-
er seed and harvest, our corn and hay, our
shops and ships, our tradings and bargains,
our suits and pretensions for places and em-
ployments of gain or credit, husband or wife,
and children, and house, and train, our feast-
ings and entertainments, and other pleasures
of sense, our civilities and compliments, and
a world of those in all the world, are these
thorns, and they overspread all: the lust of
the eye, the lust of the flesh, and the pride
of life.
And for how long is all the advantage and
delight of these ? Alas ! that so poor things
should prejudice us against the rich and bless-
ed increase of this divine seed
The last is, good ground, a good and hon-
est heart. There is not much fineness here,
not many questions and disputes, but honest
simplicity, sweet sincerity, that is all ; an
humble, single desire to eye and to do the will
of God, and this from love to himself. This
makes the soul abound in the fruits of holi-
ness, receiving the word as the ground of it.
Different degrees there are indeed, some thir-
ty, some siaty, and some a hundred fold ;
yet, the lowest are aiming at the highest, not
resting satisfied, still growing more fruitful ;
if thirty last year, desiring to bring forth six-
ty this.
This is the great point, and we ought to ex-
amine it; for much is sown and little brought
forth. Our God hath done much for us;
(what more could be done 2) yet, when
grapes were expected, wild grapes are produ-
ced. What becomes of all 2 Who grow to
be more spiritual, more humble and meek,
more like Christ, more self-denying, fuller of
love to God and one to another ? Some, but
alas ! how few. All the land is sown, and
that plentifully, with the good seed ; but
what comes for the most part 3 Cockle, and
no grain. Infelia lolium.
We would do all other things to purpose,
and not willingly lose our end : we would not
trade and gain nothing, buy and sell, and live
by the loss; we would not plough and sow,
and reap nothing. How sensibly do we feel
one ill year ! And shall this alone be lost la-
bor which, well improved, were worth all
the rest ? Oh how much more worth than
all ! Shall we do only the greatest business
to the least purpose ? Bethink yourselves,
what do we here ? Why come we here 2
If we still remain as proud and passionate,
as self-willed as before, what will all great
bargains, and good years, and full barns, avail
within a while 2 That word, Thou fool, this
night shall they fetch away thy soul, how
terrible will it be -
We think we are wise in not losing our la-
bor in other things; why, it is all lost, even
where most is gained. What amounts it to,
when cast up 3 Vanity and veration of
spirit, is the total sum. And in all our pro-
jecting and bustling, what do we but sow the
wind, and reap the whirlwind, sow vanity and
reap vealation ?
This seed alone, being fruitful, makes rich
and happy, springs up to clernal life " Oh!
that we were wise, that we would at length
learn to hear every sermon as on the utmost
edge of time, at the very brink of eternity
For anything we know for ourselves, of any
of us it may be really so. However, it is
wise and safe to do it as if it were so. Will
you be persuaded of this 2 It were a happy
sermon, if it could prevail for the more fruit-
ful hearing of all the rest henceforward. We
have lost too much of our little time ; and
thus, with the apostle, I beseech you, 1
beseech you, receive not the grace of God in
7)0.272,
Now, that you may be fruitful, examine
well your own hearts: pluck up, weed out,
for there are still thorns. Some will grow,
but he is the happiest man who hath the
sharpest eye and the busiest hand, spying
them out, and plucking them up. Take heed
how ye hear ; think it not so easy a matter.
Plough up, and sow not among thorns. Jer-
emiah iv. 3. tº
And above all, pray, pray before, after, and
in hearing. Dart up desires to God. He is
the Lord of the harvest, whose influence
doth all. The difference of the soil makes
indeed the difference of success: but the
Lord hath the privilege of bettering the
soil. He who framed the heart changes
it when and how he will. There is a curse
on all grounds naturally, which fell on the
earth for man's sake, but fell more on the
ground of man’s own heart within him :
Thorns and briers shalt thou bring forth.
Now it is He that denounceth that curse, who
alone hath power to remove it. He is both
sovereign owner of the seed, and the changer
of the soil ; he turns a wilderness into Car-
mel by his Spirit; and no ground, no heart,
can be good, till he change it.
And being changed, much care must be
had still in manuring; for still that is in it,
which will bring forth many weeds, is a
mother to them, and but a step-mother to
this seed. Therefore,
Consider it, if you think this concerns you.
He that hath an ear to hear, as Our Savior
closes, let him hear. The Lord apply your
hearts to this work ; and though discour-
agements should arise without, or within,
and little present fruit appear, but corruption
is rather stronger and greater, yet, watch,
and pray. Wait on ; it shall be better. This
fruit is to be brought forth with patience, as
St. Luke hath it. And this seed, this word,
the Lord calls by that very name, the very
word of his patience. Keep it, hide it in thy
2Cor. vii. 1.] THE PROMISES AN ENCOURAGEMENT TO HOLINESS. 503
heart, and in due time it shall spring up.
And this patience shall be put to it but for a
little while. The day of harvest is at hand,
when all who have been in any measure
fruitful in grace, shall be gathered into glory.
SERMION XIV.
HOLINESS.
2 Cor. vii. 1.
Having therefore these promises, dearly beloved, let
us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh
and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God.
IT is a thing both of unspeakable sweet-
ness and usefulness, for a Christian often to
consider the excellency of that estate to which
he is called. It can not fail to put him upon
very high resolutions, and carry him on in the
divine ambition of behaving daily more suit-
ably to his high calling and hopes. There-
fore, these are often set before Christians in
the Scriptures, and are pressed here by the
apostle upon a particular occasion, the avoid-
ance of near combinements with unbelievers.
He mentions some choice promises which
God makes to his own people, and speaks of
their near relation to, and communion with,
himself; and upon these, he enlarges and
raises the exhortation to the universal en-
deavor of all holiness, and that as aiming at
the very top and highest degree of it.
In the words are, I. The thing to which he
would persuade. II. The motive.
I. The thing is, holiness in its full exten-
sion and intention. Purging ourselves from
all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, and per-
fecting holiness in the fear of God.
The purging out of filthiness, and the per-
fecting of holiness, express those two parts of
renewing grace, mortification and vivification,
as usually they are distinguished. But I con-
ceive they are not so truly different parts, as
a different notion of the same thing, the de-
crease of sin and the increase of grace, being
truly one thing, as are the dispelling of dark-
ness and the augmenting of light. So here,
the one is rendered as the necessary result,
yea, as the equivalent of the other, as the
same thing indeed : purging from filthiness,
and, in so doing, perfecting holiness ; perfect-
ing holiness, and, in so doing, purging from
filthiness. By perſection is meant a growing,
progressive advance toward perfection.
The words, without straining, give us as
it were the several dimensions of holiness.
The breadth—cleansing from all filthiness ;
the length, parallel to man's composition, run-
ning all along through his soul and body—
from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit ; the
height—perfecting holiness ; the depth, that
which is the bottom whence it rises up—a
deep impress of the fear of God, perfecting
holiness in the fear of God.
Let us cleanse ourselves.] It is the Lord
who is the sanctifier of his people; he pur-
ges away their dross and tin, he pours clean
water, acording to his promises; yet, doth he
call to us to cleanse ourselves. Even, having
such promises, let us cleanse ourselves. He
puts a new life into us, and causes us to act,
and excites us to excite it and call it up into
act in the progress of sanctification. Men
are strangely inclined to a perverse construc-
tion of things. Tell them that we are to act
and work, and to give all diligence, then they
would fancy a doing in their own strength,
and be their own saviors. Again, tell them
that God works all our works in us, and for
us, then they would take the ease of doing
nothing; if they can not have the praise of
doing all, they will sit still with folded hands,
and use no diligence at all. But this is the
corrupt logic of the flesh, its base sophistry.
The apostle reasons just contrary, Phil. ii. 12:
It is God that worketh in you both to will and
do 3–therefore, would a carnal heart say, we
need not work, or at least, may work very
carelessly. But he infers, Therefore let us
work out our own salvation with fear and
trembling, that is, in the more humble obedi-
ence to God, and dependance on him ; not ob-
structing the influence of his grace, and by
sloth and negligence provoking him to with-
draw or abate it. Certainly, many in whom
there is truth of grace, are kept low in the
growth of it, by their own slothfulness, sitting
still, and not bestirring themselves, and exer-
cising the proper actions of that spiritual life
by which it is entertained and advances.
From all filthiness.] All kinds of sinful
pollutions. Not as men commonly do, reform
some things, and take to themselves dispen-
sations in others, at least in some one pecu-
liar sin, their mistress, their Herodias, or
their Delilah : no parting with that ; yea,
they rather forego many other things, as a
kind of composition for the retaining of it.
Of flesh and spirit..] The whole man must
be purified and consecrated to God; not only
refined from the gross outward acts of sin,
but from the inward affection to it, and from
the secret motions of it, that so the heart,
like a weaned child (Psalm cyxxi. 2), go not
after it, which when restrained from the out-
ward commission of sin, it may do, and very
often does; as the Israelites lusted after the
flesh pots, their hearts remained in Egypt
still, though their bodies were brought out.
This, then, is to be done; affection to sin is
to be purged out. That is, we are to cleanse
the ground ; not only to lop off the branches,
but to dig about, and loosen and pluck up
the root. Though still fibres of it will stick,
yet we ought still to be finding them out, and
plucking them up. º
Further, this applies not only to the inner
part of all sins, but to some sins that are al-
most wholly inward, that hang not so much
on the body, nor are acted by it; those filthi-
nesses of the spirit which are less easily dis-
504
cerned than those of the flesh, and, as more
hardly discerned, so, when discerned, more
hardly purged out: pride, self-love, unbelief,
curiosity, &c., which, though more retired
and refined sins, yet are pollutions and defile-
ments, yea, of the worst sort, as being more
spiritual, filthiness of the spirit. Fleshly
pollutions are things of which the devils are
not capable in themselves, though they ex-
cite men to them, and so they are called un-
clean spirits. But the highest rank of sins,
are those that are properly spiritual wicked-
nesses. These in men are the chief strengths
of Satam, the inner works of his forts, and
strong-holds. 2 Corinthians x. 4. Many who
are not much tempted to the common gross
sensualities, who have, possibly, though in-
clination to them, yet, a kind of disdain of
them, and through education, and mºrality,
and strength of reason, with somewhat of
natural conscience, are carried above them,
yet, have many of those heights the apostle
speaks of, those lofty imaginations that rise
against God and the obedience of Christ, all
which must be demolished.
Perfecting holiness.] Not content with low
measures, with just so much as keeps from
hell, but aspiring toward perfection; aiming
high at self-victory, self-denial, and the love
of God becoming purer and hotter, like a fire,
growing, and flaming up, and consuming the
earth. Though men fall short of their aim,
yet it is good to aim high : they shall shoot so
much the higher, though not full so high as
they aim. Thus we ought to be setting the
state of perfection in our eye, resolving not to
rest content below that, and to come as near
it as we can, even before we come at it.
Not as though I had already attained, says
the apostle, but this one thing I do ; forget-
ting the things which are behind, and reach-
ing forth unto those which are before, I press
toward the mark. Phil. iii. 11, 12. This is to
act as one who hath such a hope, such a state
in view, and is still advancing toward it.
In the fear of God..] . There is no working
but on firm ground; there are no solid en-
deavors in holiness where it is not founded in
a deeply-felt reverence of God, a desire to
please him and to be like him, which springs
from love. This most men are either wholly
strangers to, or are but slight and shallow in
it, and therefore make so little true progress
in holiness.
II. Then there is the motive. Having
these promises. Being called to so fair an es-
tate, so excellent a condition, to be the peo-
ple, yea, the sons and daughters of God,
therefore they are called to the coming forth
from Babel, and the separating themselves
from sin, and purging it out. Holiness is his
image in his children; the more there is of
it, the more suitable are they to that blessed
relation and dignity, and the firmer are their
hopes of the inheritance of glory.
Consider sin as a filthiness: hate it. Oh,
how ugly and vile is lust, how deformed is
THE PROMISES AN ENCOURAGEMENT TO HOLINESS.
[SER. XIV.
swelling pride And all sin is an aversion
from God, a casting of the noble soul into the
mire, the defacing of all its beauty. Turning
to present things, it pollutes itself with them:
he who is clad in scarlet, embraces the dung-
hill, as Jeremiah in another sense laments.
The purity of things is, an unmiature and
simplicity corresponding with their own be-
ing; and such is the purity of the soul when
elevated above the earth and sense, and uni-
ted unto God, contemplating him, and de-
lighting in him. All inordinate bent to the
creatures, or to itself (which is the first and
main disorder), doth defile and debase it. And
the more it is sublimed and freed from itself,
the purer and more heavenly it grows, and
partakes the more of God, and resembles him
the more.
This, then, is to be our main study; first,
to search out our iniquities, the particular de-
filements of our nature; not only gross filthi-
ness, drunkenness, lasciviousness, &c., but our
love of this earth, or of air, our vanity of
mind, our self-will and self-seeking. Most
persons, even most Christians, are short-
sighted in respect to their own secret evils,
the filthiness of the spirit especially, and use
little diligence in this inquiry. They do not
seek light from God, to go in before him, and
to lead them into themselves, as the prophet
had in the discovery of idolatries at Jerusa-
lem. Oh that we could once see what
heaps of abominations lie hid in us, one be-
hind another
Then, having searched out, we must fol-
low on to purge out: we are not to pass over,
nor to spare any, but to delight most in cast-
ing out the best beloved sin, the choicest
idol, that hath had most of our service and
sacrifices, to make room for Jesus Christ.
And never cease in this work, for still there
is need of more purifying. One day's work
in this, disposes for, and engages to a further,
to the next; for, as sin is purged out, light
comes in, and more clear discoveries are
made of remaining pollutions. So, them, still
there must be progress, less of the world, and
more of God in the heart every day. Oh!
this is a sweet course of life. What gain,
what preferment is to be compared to it?
And in this, it is good to have our ambi-
tion growing ; the higher we rise, to aspire
still the higher, looking further than before.
even toward the perfection of holiness. It is
not much we can here attain to, but surely,
it is commonly far less than we might; we
improve not our condition and advantages as
we might do. The world are busy driving
forward their designs. Men of spirit are ani-
mated both by better and by worse success:
if anything miscarry, it sets them on the
more eagerly to make it up, in the right man-
agement of some other design: and when
they prosper, in one thing, that enables and
encourages them to attempt further. Shall
all other things seem worth our pains 2 Are
only grace and glory so cheap in our account,
PSALM cxix. 32.] GRACE AND
OBEDIENCE. 505
that the least diligence of all goes that way?
Oh, strange delusion
Now, our cleansing is to be managed by
all holy means: the word and sacrament
more wisely and spiritually used than com-
monly they are with us; and private prayer,
which purifies and elevates the soul, takes it
up into the mount, and makes it shine; and
particularly, supplicating for the Spirit of ho-
liness and for victory over sin, is not in vain;
——the soul obtains its desires of God, becom-
ing that which it is fixedly set upon; holy
resolution ; –Christians are much wanting
in this, are faint and loose in their purposes;
—the consideration of Divine truths, the
mysteries of the kingdom, the hope of Chris-
tians, yea, rich and great promises, that is
particularly here the motive: these are all
the means, and holy means they are, as their
end is, the perfection of holiness.
Having these promises.] Now consider
whether it is better to be the slaves of Satan,
or the sons of God. Measure delight in God,
with the low, base pleasures of sense. Bles-
sed are the pure in heart, for they shall see
God: these gradually go on together, and are
perfected together.
Why, then, is there such an invincible love
of sin in the hearts of men 2 At least, why
so little love of holiness, and endeavor after
it, so mean thoughts of it, as a thing either
indecent or unpleasant, when it is the only
noble and the only delightful thing in the
world 2 The soul by other things is drawn
below itself, but by holiness it is raised above
itself, and made divine. The pleasures of
sin are for a season: they are the pleasures
of a moment exchanged for those of eternity.
But even in the mean time, in this season,
the holy soul is fed with communion with
God, one hour of which is of more worth
than the longest life of the highest of the
world's delights.
SERMON XV.
GRACE AND OBEDIENCE.
PsALM czix. 32.
I will run the way of thy commandments, when thou
shalt enlarge my heart.
To desire ease and happiness, under a gem-
eral representation of it, is a thing of more
easy and general persuasion; there is some-
what in nature to help the argument. But to
find beauty in, and be taken with, the very
way of holiness that leads to it, is more rare,
and depends on a higher principle. Self-love
inclines a man to desire the rest of love, but
to love and desire the labor of love, is love of
a higher and purer strain. To delight and
be cheerful in obedience, argues much love
as the spring of it. That is the thing the
holy psalmist doth so plentifully express in
this Psalm, and he is still desiring more of
that sweet and lively affection that might
make him yet more abundant in action. Thus
here, I will run, &c. He presents his desire
and his purpose together, q. d., The more of
this grace thou bestowest on me, the more
service shall I be able to do thee.
This is the top of his ambition, while oth-
ers are seeking to enlarge their barns, their
lands or estates, or their titles; and kings to
enlarge their territories or authority, to en-
croach on neighboring kingdoms, or be more
absolute in their own; instead of all such en-
largements, this is David’s great desire, an
enlarged heart to run the way of God's com-
nandments.
And these other (how big soever they
sound) are poor narrow desires: this one is
larger and higher than them all, and gives
evidence of a heart already large. But as it
is miserable in those desires, so it is happy
in this, that much would still have more.
Let others seek more money, or more hon-
or, oh! the blessed choice of that soul that is
still seeking more love to God, more affection,
and more ability to do him service ; that
counts all days and hours for lost, which are
not employed to this improvement ; that
hears the word in public, and reads it in pri-
vate for this purpose, to kindle this love, or to
blow the spark, if any there be already in the
heart, to raise it to a clear flame, and from a
little flame to make it burn yet hotter and
purer, and rise higher: but, above all means,
is often presenting this in prayer to him on
whose influence all depends, in whose hand
our hearts are, much more than in our own.
It follows him with this desire, and works on
him by his own interest. Though there can
be really no accession of gain to him by our
services, yet, he is pleased so to account with
us as if there were. Therefore we may urge
this: Lord, give more, and receive more: 1
will run the way of thy commandments, when
thou shalt enlarge my heart.
We have here in the words a required dis-
position, and a suitable resolution. The dis-
position relates to the resolution, as the
means of fulfilling it; and the resolution re-
lates to the disposition, both as the end of
desiring it, and as the motive of obtaining it.
The resolution occurs first in the words,
I will run, &c.] The way resolved on, is,
that of God's commandments : not the road
of the polluted world, not the crooked ways
of his own heart, but the highway, the royal
way, the straight way of the kingdom, and
that in the notion of subjection and obedi-
ence, the way of thy commandments. This,
man naturally struggles against, and repines
at. To be limited and bounded by a law is a
restraint ; and vain man could possibly find
in his heart to do many of the same things
that are commanded, but he would not be
tied, would have his liberty, and do it of his
own choice. This is the enmity of the carnal
mind against God, as the apostle expresses
it: it is not subject to the law of God, neither
can it be ; it breaks these bonds, and casts
64
506
[SER. XV.
GRACE AND OBEDIENCE.
away the cords of his authority. This is sin,
the transgression of the law ; and this made
the first sin so great, though in a matter one
would think small, the eating of the fruit of
a tree: it was rebellion against the majesty
of God, casting off his law and authority, and
aspiring to an imagined self-deity. And this
is still the treasonable pride or independ-
ency, and wickedness of our nature, rising up
against God who formed us of nothing.
And this is the power and substance of re-
ligion, the new impress of God upon the
heart, obedience and resignment to him. To
be given up to him as entirely his, to be
moulded and ordered as he will, to be sub-
ject to his laws and appointments in all
things, to have every action, and every word,
under a rule and law, and the penalty to be
so high, eternal death ; all this to a carnal or
haughty mind is hard. Not only every action
and every word, but even every thought too,
must be subject; the soul is not so much as
thought-free. . Every thought is brought into
captivity, as the apostle speaks, 2 Cor. x. 5:
and so the licentious mind accounts it. Not
only the affections and desires, but the very
reasonings and imaginations are brought un-
der this law.
Now, to yield this as reasonable and due
to God ; to own his sovereignty, and to ac-
knowledge the law to be holy, just, and good;
to approve, yea, to love it, even where it
most contradicts and controls our own corrupt
will and the law of sin in our flesh : this is
true spiritual obedience ; to study and inquire
after the will of God in all our ways, what
will please him, and having found it, to fol-
low that which is here called the way of his
commandments ; to make this our way, and
Our business in the world, and all other things
but accessories and by-works, even those law-
ful things that may be taken in, and used as
helps in our way: as the disciples passing
through the corn, plucked the ears and did
eat it passing, as a by-work, but their busi-
ness was to follow their Master. And what-
soever would hinder us in this way, must be
watched and guarded against. To effect that,
we must either remove and thrust it aside, or
if we can not do that, yet we must go over it,
and trample it under foot, were it the thing
or the person that is dearest to us in the
world. Till the heart be brought to this state
and purpose, it is either wholly void of, or
very low and weak in the truth of, religion.
We place religion much in our accustomed
performances, in coming to church, hearing
and repeating of sermons, and praying at
home, keeping a round of such and such du-
ties. The way of God’s commandments is
more in doing than in discourse. In many,
religion evaporates itself too much out by the
tongue, while it appears too little in their
ways. Oh but this is the main : one act of
charity, meekness, or humility, speaks more
than a day’s discourse. All the means we use
in religion, are intended for a further end,
which if they attain not, they are nothing.
This end is to mortify and purify the heart,
to mould it to the way of God’s command-
ments in the whole track of our lives; in our
private converse one with another, and our
retired secret converse with ourselves, to have
God still before us, and his law our rule, in
all we do, that he may be our meditation day
and night, and that his law may be our coun-
sellor, as this Psalm hath it ; to regulate all
our designs and the works of our callings by
it; to walk soberly, and godly, and righteous-
ly, in this present world , to curb and cross
our own wills where they cross God's ; to
deny ourselves our own humor and pride, our
passions and pleasures, to have all these sub-
dued and brought under by the power of the
law of love within us—this, and nothing be-
low this, is the end of religion Alas! among
multitudes who are called Christians, some
there may be who speak and appear like it,
yet how few are there who make this their
business, and aspire to this, the way of God’s
commandments /
His intended course in this way, the psalm-
ist expresses by running. It is good to be in
this way even in the slowest motions. Love
will creep where it can not go. But if thou
art so indeed, then thou wilt long for a swifter
motion. If thou do but creep, be doing, creep
on, yet desire to be enabled to go. If thou
goest, but yet halting and lamely, desire to be
strengthened to walk straight ; and if thou
walkest, let not that satisfy thee—desire to
run. So here David did walk in this way,
but he earnestly wishes to mend his pace: he
would willingly run, and for that end he de-
sires an enlarged heart.
Some dispute and descant too much wheth-
er they go or not, and childishly tell their
steps, and would know at every pace wheth-
er they advance or not, and how much they
advance, and thus amuse themselves, and
spend the time of doing and going, in ques-
tioning and doubting. Thus it is with many
Christians. But it were a more wise and
comfortable way, to be endeavoring onward,
and, if thou make little progress, at least to
be desiring to make more; to be praying and
walking, and praying that thou mayest walk
faster, and that in the end thou mayest run ;
not to be satisfied with anything attained, but
yet, by that unsatisfiedness, not to be so de-
jected as to sit down, or stand still, but ra-
ther excited to go on. So it was with St.
Paul, Phil. iii. 13: Forgetting the things
which are behind, and reaching forth unto
those things which are before, I press &
ward. If any one thinks that he hath done
well and run far, and will take a pause, the
great apostle is of another mind: Not as if I
had already attained. Oh, no! far from that,
he still sets forward, as if nothing were done:
like a runner, not still looking back to see
how much he hath run, but forward to what
he is to run, stretching forth to that, inflamed
with frequent looks at the mark and end.
PsALM czix. 32.]
507
GRACE AND OBEDIENCE.
Some are retarded by looking on what is past,
as not satisfied : they have done nothing, as
they think, and so stand still discontented.
But even in that way, it is not good to look
too much to things behind : we must forget
them rather, and press onward.
Some, if they have gone on well, and pos-
sibly run for a while, yet, if they fall, then
they are ready, in a desperate malcontent, to
lie still, and think all is lost; and in this peev-
ish fretting at their falls, some men please
themselves, and take it for repentance, where-
as indeed it is not that, but rather pride and
humor. Repentance is a more submissive,
humble thing. But this is what troubles
Some men at their new falls (especially if af.
ter a long time of even walking or running),
they think their project is now spoiled, their
thoughts are broken off: they would have
had somewhat to rejoice in, if they had still
gone on to the end, but being disappoint-
ed of that, they think they had as good let
alone, and give over. Oh! but the humble
Christian is better taught: his falls teach him
indeed to abhor himself; they discover his
own weakness to him, and empty him of self-
trust; but they do not dismay him to get up
and go on, not boldly and carelessly forget-
ting his fall, but in the humble sense of it,
walking the more warily, yet not the less
swiftly ; yea, the more swiftly too, making
the more haste to regain the time lost by the
fall. So then if you would run in this way,
depend on the strength of God, and on his
Spirit leading thee, that so thou mayest not
fall. And yet if thou dost fall, arise, and, if
thou art plunged in the mire, go to the Foun-
tain opened for sin and uncleanness, and wash
there ; bemoan thyself before thy Lord ; and
if hurt and bleeding by thy fall, yet look to
him, desire Jesus to pity thee, and bind up
and cure thy wound, washing off thy blood,
and pouring in of his own.
However it is with thee, give not over,
faint not, run on. And that thou mayest run
the more easily and expeditely, make thyself
as light as may be, lay aside every weight.
Hebrews xii. 1, 2. Clog not thyself with un-
necessary burdens of earth, and especially lay
aside that which, of all things, weighs the
heaviest, and cleaves the closest, the sin that
so easily besets us, and is so hardly put off us,
that folds so connaturally to us, and we there-
fore think will not hinder us much. And not
only the sins that are more outward, but the
inner, close-cleaving sins, the sin that most
of all sits easily to us; not only our cloak, but
our inner coat, away with that too, as our
Savior says in another case ; and run the race
set before us, our appointed stage, and that
with patience, under all oppositions and dis-
couragements from the world without, and
from sin within. And to encourage thee in
this, look to such a cloud of witnesses, that
compasseth us about to further us, as trou-
bles, temptations, and sin, do to hinder us.
They encountered the like sufferings, and
were encumbered with the like sins: and yet,
they ran on, and got home. Alexander would
have run in the Olympic games, if he had had
kings to run with : now, in this race, kings
and prophets, and righteous persons, run;
yea, all are indeed a kingly generation, each
one heir to a crown as the prize of this race.
And if these encourage but little, then look
beyond them, above that cloud of witnesses,
to the sun, the Sun of Righteousness ; look-
ing off from all things here, that would either
entangle thee or discourage thee, taking thine
eye off from them, and looking to him who
will powerfully draw thee and animate thee.
Look to Jesus, not only as thy forerunner in
this race, but also as thy undertaker in it, the
author and finisher of our faith. . His attain-
ing the end of the race, is the pledge of thy
attaining, if thou follow him cheerfully on
the same encouragements that he looked to:
Who for the joy that was set before him, en-
dured the cross, and despised the shame, and
is now set down at the right hand of God.
When thou shalt enlarge my heart.] In all
beings, the heart is the principle of motion,
and according as it is more or less perfect in
its kind, those motions which flow from it,
are more or less vigorous. Therefore hath
the psalmist good reason, to the end his
spiritual course may be the steadfaster and
the faster, to desire that the principle of it,
the heart, may be more enabled and disposed,
which he here expresses by its being enlarged.
What this enlargement of the heart is, a
man's own inward sense should easily ex-
plain to him. Surely it would, did men re-
flect on it, and were they acquainted with
their own hearts: but the most are not. They
would find the carnal natural heart a narrow,
contracted, hampered thing, bound with cords
and chains of its own twisting and forging,
and so incapable of walking, much less of run-
ning, in this way of God’s commandments,
till it be freed and enlarged.
The heart is taken generally in Scripture
for the whole soul, the understanding and the
will, in its several affections and motions; and
the phrase being here of an enlarged heart,
it seems very congruous to take it in the most
enlarged sense.
It is said of Solomon, that he had a large
heart (the same word that is here), as the
sand on the seashore, 1 Kings iv. 29; that is,
a vast comprehensive spirit, that could fath-
om much of nature, both its greater and les-
ser things. He spake of trees, from the cedar
in Lebanon, to the hyssop on the wall, and of
reat beasts, and small creeping things.-
#. I conceive, the enlargement of the heart
compriseth the enlightening of the under-
standing. There arises a clearer light there;
to discern spiritual things in a more spiritual
manner; to see the vast difference between the
vain things the world goes after, and the true,
solid delight that is the way of God’s com-
mandments; to know the false blush of the
pleasures of sin, and what deformity is under
508
[SER. XV.
GRACE AND OBEDIENCE.
that painted mask, and not be allured by it;
to have enlarged apprehensions of God. His
excellency, and greatness, and goodness; how
Worthy he is to be obeyed and served. This
is the great dignity and happiness of the soul;
all other pretensions are low and poor, in re.
spect of this. Here, then, is enlargement, to
see the purity and beauty of his law, how
just and reasonable, yea, how pleasant and
amiable it is ; that his commandments are not
grievous ; that they are beds of spices, the
more we walk in them, still the more of their
fragrant smell and sweetness we find.
And then, consequently, upon the larger
and clearer knowledge of these things, the
heart dilates itself in affection ; the more it
knows of God, still the more it loves him,
and the less it loves this present world. Love
is the great enlarger of the heart, to all obe-
dience. Then nothing is hard, yea, the harder
things become the more delightful.
All love of other things doth pinch and con-
tract the heart, for they are all narrower than
itself. It is framed to that wideness in its
first creation, capable of enjoying God, though
not of a full comprehending of him. There-
fore, all other things gather it in, and straiten
it from its natural size; only the love of God
stretches and dilates it. He is large enough
for it, yea, it, in its fullest enlargement, is in-
finitely too narrow for him. Do not all find
it if they will ask themselves, that in all oth-
er loves and pursuits in this world, there is
still somewhat that pinches 2 The soul is not
at its full size, but, as a foot in a strait shoe,
is somewhere bound and pained, and can not
go freely, much less run : though another
who looks on, can not tell where, yet each
one feels it. But when the soul is set free
from these narrow things, and is raised to the
love of God, then is it at ease and at large,
and hath room enough : it is both elevated
and dilated. And this word signifies a high-
raised soul, and is sometimes taken for proud
and lofty; but there is a greatness and height
of spirit in the love of God and union with
him, that doth not vainly swell and lift it up,
but with the deepest humility, joins the high-
est and truest magnanimity. It sets the soul
above the snares that lie here below, in which
most men creep and are entangled, in that
way of life, which is on high to the just, as
Solomon speaks. 4-
Good reason hath David to join these to-
gether, and to desire the one as the spring
and cause of the other; an enlarged heari,
that he might run the way of God's command-
ments.
Sensible joys and consolations in God do
encourage and enlarge the heart; but these
are not so general to all, nor so constant to
any; Love is the abounding fixed spring of
ready obedience, and will make the heart
cheerful in serving God, even without those
felt, comforts, when he is pleased to deny or
withdraw them.
In that course or race, are understood con-
stancy, activity, and alacrity ; and all these
flow from the enlargement of the heart.
1. Constancy. A narrow enthralled heart,
fettered with the love of lower things, and
cleaving to some particular sins, or but some
one, and that in secret, may keep foot a while
in the way of God's commandments, in some
steps of them ; but it must give up quickly, is
not able to run on to the end of the goal. But
a heart that hath laid aside every weight,
and the most close-cleaving and besetting sin
(as it is in that forecited place in the epistle
to the Hebrews), hath stripped itself of all
that may falter or entangle it, it runs, and
runs on, without fainting or wearying ; it is
at large, hath nothing that pains it in the race.
2. Activity. Not only holding on, but run-
ning, which is a swift, nimble race. It stands
not bargaining and disputing, but once know-
ing God’s mind, there is no more question or
demur. I made haste and delayed not, as in
this psalm the word is, did not stay upon why
and wherefore: he stood not to reason the
matter, but ran on. And this love, enlarging
the heart, makes it abundant in the work of
the Lord, quick and active, despatching much
in a little time.
3. Alacrity. All is done with cheerfulness,
so, no other constraint is needful, where this
overpowering, sweet constraint of love is. I
will run, not be hauled and drawn as by force,
but skip and leap ; as the evangelic promise
is, that the lame shall leap as a hart, and the
tongue of the dumb sing ; for in the wilder-
ness shall waters break out, and streams in the
desert. Isa. xxxv. 6. The Spouse desires her
Beloved to hasten as a roe and hind on the
mountain of spices, and she, doth so, and each
faithful soul runs toward him, to meet him
in his way.
It is a sad heavy thing to do anything as in
obedience to God, while the heart is straiten-
ed, not enlarged toward him by Divine love;
but that once taking possession and enlarging
the heart, that inward principle of obedience
makes the outward obedience sweet ; it is
then a natural motion. Indeed, the soul runs
in the ways of God, as the sun in his course,
which finds no difficulty, being naturally fitted
and carried to that motion ; he goes forth as
a bridegroom, and rejoiceth as a strong man
to ru7, a race.
This is the great point which our souls
should be studious of, to attain more evenness,
and nimbleness, and cheerfulness, in the ways
of God ; and for this end we ought to seek
above all things this enlarged heart. It is
the want of this makes us bog, and drive
heavily, and run long upon little ground. Oh,
my beloved, how shallow and narrow are our
thoughts of God . Most even of those who
are truly godly, yet, are led on by a kind of
instinct, and carried they scarcely know how,
to give some attendance on God’s worship,
and to the avoidance of gross sin, and go on
in a blameness course. It is better thus than
to run to eacess of riot and open wickedness,
RoM. viii. 33, 34.] GRACE AND
OBEDIENCE. 509
with the ungodly world. But, alas ! this is
but a dull, heavy and languid motion, where
the heart is not enlarged by the daily growing
love of God. Few, few are acquainted with
that delightful contemplation of God, which
ventilates and raises this flame of love. Petty
things bind and contract our spirits, so that
they feel little joy in God, little ardent, active
desire to do him service, to crucify sin, to
break and undo self-love within us, to root up
our own wills to make room for his, that his
alone may be ours, that we may have no will
of our own, that our daily work may be to
grow more like him in the beauty of holiness.
You think it a hard saying, to part with your
carnal lusts and delights, and the common
ways of the world, and to be tied to a strict,
exact conversation all your days. But oh
the reason of this is, because the heart is yet
straitened and enthralled by the base love of
these mean things, and that arises from the
ignorance of things higher and better. One
glance of God, a touch of his love, will free
and enlarge the heart, so that it can deny all,
and part with all, and make an entire re-
nouncing of all, to follow him. It sees enough
in him, and in him alone, and therefore, can
neither quietly rest on, nor earnestly desire
anything beside him.
Oh! that you would apply your hearts to
consider the excellency of this way of God’s
commandments : Our wretched hearts are
prejudiced ; they think it melancholy and sad.
Oh! there is no way truly joyous but this.
They shall sing in the ways of the Lord, says
the psalmist. Psalm czxxviii. 5. Do not men,
when their eyes are opened, see a beauty in
meekness, and temperance, and humility, a
present delightfulness and quietness in them 2
Whereas in pride and passion, and intemper-
ance, there is nothing but vexation and dis-
quiet. And then consider the end of this
way, and of this race in it, rest and peace for
ever. It is the way of peace, both in its own
nature, and in respect of its end. Did you
believe that joy and glory which are set be-
fore you in this way, you would not any of
you defer a day longer, but forthwith you
would break from all that holds you back,
and enter into this way, and run on cheerfully
in it. The persuasion of those great things
above, would enlarge and greaten the heart,
and make the greatest things here very little
in your eyes.
But would you attain to this enlarged heart
for this race, as you ought to apply your
thoughts to these Divine things, and stretch
them on the promises made in the world, so,
above all, take David's course, seek this en-
largement of heart from God's own hand.
For it is here propounded and laid before God
by way of request: See what is my desire; 1
would gladly serve thee better, and advance
more in the way of thy commandments ; now
this I can not do till my heart be more enlarg-
ed, and that can not be but by thy hand.
When thou shalt enlarge my heart. Present
this suit often : it is in his power to do it for
thee. He can stretch and expand thy straiten-
ed heart, can hoist and spread the sails within
thee, and then carry thee on swiftly ; filling
them, not with the vain air of man's applause,
which readily runs a soul upon rocks and
splits it, but with the sweet breathings and
soft gales of his own Spirit, which carry it
straight to the desired haven.
Findest thou sin cleaving to thee and clog-
ging thee ? Cry to him : “Help, Lord! set me
free from my narrow heart.—I strive but in
vain without thee; still it continues so.-I
know little of thee; my affections are dead
and cold toward thee.—Lord, I desire to love
thee, here is my heart; and lest it fly out, lay
hold on it, and take thine own way with it:
though it should be in a painful way, yet, draw
it forth, yea, draw it that it may run after
thee.” All is his own working, and all his
motive is his own free grace. Let who will
fancy themselves masters of their own hearts,
and think to enlarge them by the strength of
their own stretches of speculation; they alone,
they alone are in the sure and happy way of
attaining it, who humbly sue and wait for
this enlargement of heart from his hand who
made it. *
SERVION XVI.
CHRISTIAN TRIUMIPH.
RomfANs viii. 33, 34.
anything to the charge of God’s elect?
It is God that justifieth : Who is he that condem-
neth? It is Christ that died, yea, rather, that is
risen again, who is even at the right hand of God,
who also maketh intercession for us.
Who shall º
OTHER men may fancy and boast as they
please, but there are none in the world but
the godly alone, that are furnished with suf-
ficiently strong supports and comforts against
all possible hazards. And of these doth the
apostle treat most freely, sweetly, and plenti-
fully, in this chapter. He secures believers
in their Christ, touching these two great evils,
after condemnation and present affliction, that
the one can not befall them, and the other
can not hurt them.
For their immunity from the former, they
have the clear word of the gospel, and the
seal of the Spirit; and that former privilege
made sure, as the far greater doth secure the
other as the less.
They are freed from condemnation, and not
only so, but entitled and ensured to a kingdom.
And what hurt then can affliction do 2 Yea,
it doth good; yea, not only it can not rob
them of their crown, but it carries them on
toward it, is their highway to it: If we suf-
fer with him, we shall also be glorified to-
gether. Yea, all things to the children of
God do prove advantageous: severally taken
in their present sense, they may seem evil,
510
[SER. XVI.
CHRISTIAN TRIUMPH.
but taken jointly in their after issue, their
working together is all for good. In their
simple mature, possibly they are poison, yet,
contempered, and prepared, they shall prove
medicinal. All these things are against me,
said old Jacob, and yet he lived to see even
all these were for him. The children of God
are indeed so happy, that the harshest things
in their way change their nature, and become
sweet and profitable. This much is effected
by their prayers, which have a divine incanta-
tion in them. They breathe forth the ex-
pressions of their love to God, by which they
are characterized, ver. 28, them that love God;
and that is put on their hearts, the impression
of his love to them, to which they are here led
by the apostle, as to the spring-head of all.
All their comforts and privileges flow thence,
yea, all their love and their faith, appropria-
ting those comforts and privileges. Yea, the
very treasury of all together, Jesus Christ
himself, is the free gift of this free love. He,
as the greatest, ascertains all things besides
as unspeakably less.
These two are such mighty arguments, that
no difficulty nor grief can stand before them.
The love of God, he is with us; who then
can be against us? All the world it may be,
but that all is nothing. Once it was nothing :
it was that God who is our God, who loves us
and is for us, who made it something ; and
if he will, it may again be nothing. And as
it is at its best, it is nothing, being compared
with another gift which he hath bestowed
on us; and having bestowed that, surely, if
there be anything in this world can do us any
good, we shall not want it. He that spared
not his own Son, but gave him to the death
for us, will he not with him give us all things?
And to close all, he makes these two great
immunities good to us in Christ. He fixes
there. There we are freed from all fear of
condemnation, or of being hurt by affliction.
No accusation nor guiltiness can annul the
righteousness of Christ, and that is made ours.
No distress nor suffering can cut us off from
the love of God ; and if it can not do that,
we need not fear it: all other hazards are no
hazard, that being sure.
And in confidence of this, the apostle gives
the defiance, casts a challenge to angels, to
men, to all the world, upon these two points,
Who shall accuse 2—Who shall separate 3–
Accuse to God, or separate from him ? What-
soever times may come, the hardest that any
can apprehend or foretell, if these two be not
sufficient furniture against them, I know not
what is.
Men are commonly busied about other
events concerning them and theirs, what shall
become of this or the other, and what if this
or that fall out. But the conscience once
raised to this inquiry, the soul being awake
to discern the hazard of eternal death, all
other fears and questions are drowned and
lost in this great question, Am I condemned
or not? Is my sin pardoned or not ?
And then, a satisfying answer received con-
cerning this, all is quiet; the soul reposes
sweetly on God, and puts all its other con-
cernments into his hands. Let him make me
poor and despised, let him smite and chastise
me, he hath forgiven my sin; all is well. That
burden taken off, the soul can go light, yea,
can leap and dance under all other burdens.
Oh, how it feels itself nimble as a man eased
of a load that he was even fainting under
Oh blessed the man whose sin is taken off,
lifted from his shoulders (that is the ‘word,
Psalm xxxii. 1), laid over upon Christ, who
could bear the whole load, and take it away,
take it out of sight, which we could never
have done; no, they would have sunk us for
ever, That one word, itpet, John i. 29, signi-
fies both, and answers to the two. Isa. liii. 4,
He hath borne our grief, and carried our
sorrows ; lifted them away. O how sweet a
burden, instead of this, is that engagement
of obedience and love to him as our Redeemer,
and which is all he lays on us ! If we follow
him, and bear his cross, he is our strength,
and bears both it and us. So then, this is the
great point, the heart's ease, to be delivered
from the condemning weight of sin.
And certainly, while men do not think
thus their hearts have very slight impressions
of the truth of these things. I fear the most
of us scarcely believe this condemnation to
come, at least, very shallowly, and so they
can not much consider the deliverance from
it provided for us in Jesus Christ. I can not
see how it is possible for a heart persuaded
of these things to be very careful about any.
thing beside. You who eat and drink, and
labor and trade, and bestow all your time ei-
ther in the pains or the pleasures of this
earth, what think you of eternity? Is it a
light thing for you to perish for ever ? After
a few days vainly spent, to fall under the
wrath of God for ever ? Oh, that you would
be persuaded to think on these things
And you who have an interest in this free
and blessed estate, why are your spirits so
cold, so infrequent in the thoughts of it?
Why are you not rejoicing in the Lord, glad-
dening yourselves in secret when you re-
member this?–Go the world as it will, my
sin is forgiven me. Mistake me, accuse me
whoso will, my God hath acquitted me in his
Christ, and he loves me, and lives to inter-
cede for me.
Methinks I hear some say, Ay, they who
could say that, might be merry indeed; but
alas! I have no such assurance. Who can
lay anything to the charge of God’s elect 2
That is true, but here is the great point of so
hard a resolution, Am I one of these ?
That the apostle doth thus specify the own-
ers of this consolation, by this high and hid-
den character of their election, is not to ren-
der it doubtful and dark; for his main aim,
on the contrary, is, both to extend it as far as
it can go, and to make it as clear as may be
to all that have interest in it: but he des.
RoM. viii. 33, 34.]
511
CHRISTIAN TRIUMPH.
ignates them by the primitive act of love
fixing on them, so as it is now manifested to
them in the subsequent effects which flow
from their election: called, and sanctified,
and conformed to Jesus Christ, both by his
Spirit with them, and by the sufferings that
without arise against them in the world.
They are such as, being the sons of God, are
led by the Spirit of God, and walk not after
the flesh but after the Spirit.
And these things, indeed, considered as
their characters, the stamp of God on them,
the impressions of their election to life, do
check the vain confidence of all carnal, un-
godly professors of the name of Christ, and
tell them that their pretended title to him is
a mere delusion. Certainly, whosoever lives
in the love of sin, and takes the flesh for his
guide, that accursed, blind guide is leading
him into the pit. What gross folly and im-
pudence is it for any man, walking in the
lust of his own heart, to fancy and aver him-
self to be a partner of that redemption,
whereof so great a part is, to deliver us from
the power of our iniquities, to renew our
hearts, and reunite them to God, and pos-
sess them with his love
The great evidence of thy election is, love.
Thy love to him, gives certain testimony of
his preceding, eternal love to thee: so are
they here designated, they that love God.
Thy choosing him, is the effect and evidence
of his choosing thee. Now, this is not labo-
rious, nor needs to be disputed. Amid all thy
frailties, feel the pulse of thine affection,
which way it beats, and ask thy heart wheth-
er thou love him or not ; in this thou hast
the character of thy election.
Know you not, that the redeemed of Christ
and he are one 2 They live one life, Christ
lives in them, and if any man hath not the
Spirit of Christ, he is none of his, as the
apostle declares in this chapter. So, then,
this we are plainly to tell you, and consider
it, you that will not let go your sins and lay
hold on Christ, have as yet no share in him.
But on the other side, the truth is, that
when souls are once set upon this search,
they commonly wind the notion too high,
and subtilize too much in the dispute, and so
entangle and perplex themselves, and drive
themselves farther off from that comfort
that they are seeking after : such measures
and marks of grace, they set to themselves
for their rule and standard; and unless they
find those without all controversy in them-
selves, they will not believe that they have
an interest in Christ and this blessed and
safe estate in him.
To such I would only say, Are you in a
willing league with any known sin? Yea,
would you willingly, if you might be saved
in that way, give up yourself to voluptuous-
ness, and ungodliness, and not at all desire
to follow Jesus Christ in the way of holiness?
Then truly, I have not anything as yet to say
for your comfort; only there is a salvation
provided, and the door is yet open, and your
heart may be changed. But, on the other
side, are the desires of thy soul after Christ,
a whole Christ, to be righteousness, and
withal sanctification to thee? Wouldst thou
willingly give up thyself to be ruled by him,
and have him for thy king 3 Hadst thou
rather choose to suffer the greatest affliction
for his sake, to honor him, than to commit
the least sin to displease him 3 Doth thy
heart go out after him, when thou hearest
him spoken of ? Dost thou account him thy
treasure, so that all the world sounds but as
an empty shell to thee, when he is named 3
Says thy soul within thee, Oh, that he were
mine ! and, Oh, that I were his, that I could
please him, and live to him l ; Then, do not
toss thy spirit, and jangle and spin out thy
thoughts in fruitless, endless doubtings, but
close with this as thy portion, and be of good
comfort; thy sins are, or will be forgiven
thee.
I add further : if thou sayest still, that thou
findest none of all this, yet, I say, there is
warrant for thee to believe and lay hold on
this righteousness here held forth, to the end
that thou may est then find those things in
thee, and find comfort in them. Thou art
convinced of ungodliness; then believe on
him who justifies the ungodly. Thou art
condemned ; yet Christ is dead and risen.
Flee to him as such, as the Lamb slain, he
who was dead, and is alive 3 and then say,
Who is he that condemneth Ž It is Christ
that died, or rather, that is risen. Who shall
accuse 2 It is true, they make clamor and
make a noise, both Satan and thy conscience,
but how can they fasten any accusation on
thee? If they dare accuse, yet they can not
condemn, when the Judge hath acquitted
thee, and declared thee free, who is greater
than all, and hath the absolute power of the
sentence. All charges and libels come too
late, after he hath once pronounced a soul
righteous. And who shall condemn 4. It is
Christ that died. If the sentence of the law
be brought forth, yet here is the answer, it
ought not to be twice satisfied ; now, once it
is satisfied in Christ, he hath died, and that
stands for the believer. Whosoever flees to
him, and lays hold on him for life, he can not
die again, nor canst thou die, for whom he
died once. Or rather is risen 5 that raises
the assurance higher, and sets it firmer, for
this evidences that in his death all was paid.
When he, being the Surety, and seized on for
the debt, and once death's prisoner, yet, was
set free, this clears the matter that there is
no more to be paid. And yet further, in sign
that all is done, he is raised to the height of
honor above all principalities and powers, is
set at the right hand of the Father, and there
he sits and lives to make intercession, to Sue
out the ſulfilling of all for believers, the
bringing of them home, lives to see all made
good that he died and covenanted for. So,
now that his righteousness is thine who be-
512
[SER. XVII.
CHRISTIAN TRIUMPH.
lievest, any challenge must meet with Christ
first, and if it seize not on him, it can not
light on thee, for thou art in him, married to
him. And the same triumph that he speaks,
Isa. l. 8, whence these words are borrowed,
is made thine, and thou mayest now speak it
in him. I know not what can cast him down,
who hath this word to rest upon, and to com-
fort himself in.
cºmmºnsº
SERMON XVII.
CHRISTIAN TRIUMPH.
Romi ANs viii. 35, &c.
Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?
Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or
famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? &c.
Is this he who so lately cried out, O wretch-
ed man that I am / who shall deliver me 3
who now triumphs, O happy man | Who shall
separate us from the love of Christ 3
Yes, it is the same. Pained, then, with the
thoughts of that miserable conjunction with
a body of death, and so crying out, who will
deliver, who will separate me from that ?
mow, now, he hath found a Deliverer to do
that for him, to whom he is for ever united,
and he glories now in his inseparable union
and unalterable love, which none can divide
him from. Yea, it is through him, that pres-
ently after that word of complaint he praises
God ; and now, in him he triumphs. So vast
a difference is there between a Christian ta-
ken in himself, and in Christ When he
views himself in himself, then he is nothing
but a poor, miserable, polluted, perishing
wretch ; but then he looks again, and sees
himself in Christ, and there he is rich, and
safe, and happy; he triumphs, and he glo-
ries in it, above all the painted prosperities,
and against all the horrid adversities of the
world; he lives in his Christ, content and
happy, and laughs at all enemies,
And he extends his triumph; he makes a
common good of it to all believers, speaks it
in their name, Who shall separate us 3 and
would have them partake of the same confi-
dence, and speak in the same style with him.
It is vain that men fancy these to be expres-
sions of revelations, or some singularly-priv-
ileged assurances; then, they would not suit
their end, which is clearly, and undoubtedly,
the encouragement of all the children of
God, upon grounds that are peculiar to them
from all the rest of the world, but common
to them all, in all ages, and all varieties of
condition.
It is true, all of them have not alike clear
and firm apprehensions of their happy and
sure estate, and scarcely any of them are
alike at all times ; yet, they have all and al-
ways the same right to this estate, and to
the comfort of it, and when they stand in a
right light to view it, they do see it so, aud
rejoice in 1t.
There be indeed some kinds of assurance
that are more rare and extraordinary, some
immediate glances or coruscations of the
love of God upon the soul of a believer, a
smile of his countenance; and this doth ex-
ceedingly refresh, yea, ravish the soul, and
enables it mightily for duties and sufferings.
These he dispenses arbitrarily and freely,
where and when he will. Some weaker
Christians sometimes have them, while
stronger are strangers to them, the Lord
training them to live more contentedly by
faith till the day of vision come.
And that is the other, the less ecstatical,
but the more constant and fixing kind of as-
surance, the proper assurance of faith: the
soul, by believing, cleaves unto God in Christ
as he offers himself in the gospel, and thence
is possessed with a sweet and calm persua-
sion of his love; that being the proper work,
to appropriate him, to make Christ, and in
him eternal life, ours. So that it is the prop-
er result and fruit of that its acting, especial-
ly when it acts anything strongly, to quiet
the soul in him. Then, being justified by
faith, we have peace with God, through our
Lord Jesus Christ, and from that peace, joy,
yea, even glorying in tribulation, as there
follows. And these springing, not from an
extraordinary sense or view, but from the
very innate virtue of faith working kindly
and according to its own nature.
Therefore many Christians do prejudice
their own comfort and darken their spirits,
by not giving freedom to faith to act accord-
ing to its nature and proper principles. They
will not believe till they find some evidence,
or assurance, which is quite to invert the or-
der of the thing, and to look for fruit without
setting a root for it to grow from.
Would you take Christ upon the absolute
word of promise, tendering him to you, and
rest on him so, this would engraft you into life
itself, for that he is, and so those fruits of the
Holy Ghost would bud and flourish in your
hearts. From that very believing on him,
would arise this persuasion, yea, even to a
gloriation, and an humble boasting in his
love. Who shall accuse—Who shall con-
demn——Who shall separate 2
The undivided companion and undoubted
helper and preserver of this confidence of
faith, is an active love to Christ, leading to a
constant study of holiness and strife against
sin, which is the grand enemy of faith, which
obstructs the very vital spirits of faith, which
makes it sickly and heavy in its actings, and
causes the palsy in the hand of faith, so that
it can not lay so fast hold. Therefore, this you
should be careful of; yea, know that of ne-
cessity it attends faith, and as faith grows,
holiness will grow, and holiness growing will
mutually strengthen and establish faith. The
comforts of the Holy Ghost are holy, purify-
ing comforts, and the more the soul is purifi-
RoM. viii. 35.]
513
CHRISTIAN TRIUMPH,
ed and made holy, the more is it cleared and
enlarged to receive much of these comforts.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall
see God. Unholiness is as damps and filthy
mists in the soul ; it darkens all.
Hence it is evident in what way Christians
may and ought to aspire to this assurance.
It is their portion, and in this way they are
to aspire to it, and shall find it; if not imme-
diately, yet, let them wait and go on in this
way, they shall not miscarry.
Again, it appears that this assurance is no
enemy to holy diligence, nor a friend of carnal
security ; on the contrary, it is the only thing
that doth eminently ennoble and embolden
the soul for all adventures and services. Base
fears and doubtings, wherein some place
much of religion (and many weak Christians
seem to be in that mistake, to think it a kind
of holy, spiritual temper to be questioning and
doubting), I say these base fears can never
produce any thing truly generous, no height
of obedience; they do nothing but entangle
and disable the soul for every good work.
Perfect love casts out this fear, and works a
sweet unperplexing fear, a holy wariness not
to offend, which fears nothing else. And
this confidence of love is the great secret of
comfort, and of ability to do God service.
Nothing makes so strong and healthy a con-
stitution of soul, as pure love ; it dares sub-
mit to God, and resign itself to him ; it dares
venture itself in his hand, and trust his word,
and seeks no more than how to please him.
A heart thus composed, goes readily and
cheerfully unto all service, to do, to suffer, to
live, to die, at his pleasure ; and firmly stands
to this, that nothing can separale it from that
which is sufficient for it, which is all its hap-
piness, the love of God in Christ Jesus. Ver.
39. That is, indeed, his love to us, but it is
so as it includes inseparably the inseparable-
ness of our love to him. For observe the
things specified as most likely, if anything, to
separate us ; Shall tribulation or distress, &c.
Now these especially, being endured for his
sake, can not immediately have any likely
visage of altering his love to us, but rather
confirm us in it; but these shall not separate
us, by altering our love to him, by driving us
from him, and carrying us into any way of de-
fection, or denial of his name, and so cut us
off from our union with him, and interest in
his love ; and that is the way wherein the
weak Christian will most apprehend the haz-
ard of separation. Now, the apostle speaks
his own sense, and would raise in his breth-
ren the same confidence, as to that danger.
There is no fear; not one of these things
shall be able to carry us away. These
mighty waves shall not unsettle our faith,
nor quench the flame of our love. We shall
be victors, and more than victors, in all. But
how ! Wer. 37: Through him that hath loved
ws. Thus his love makes sure ours. He
hath such hold of our hearts as he will not
let go, nor suffer us to let go our hold: all is
fast by his strength. He will not lose us,
nor shall any be able to pluck us out of his
hand.
Jesus Christ is the medium of this love, the
middle link that keeps all safe together be-
tween God and man, being so closely united
in his personal nature, and the persons of
men in and by him, to the Father. So here,
it is first called the love of Christ, Ver. 35.
and then, in the close, The love of God in
Christ ; the soul being first carried to him as
nearest, but so carried by him into that prim-
itive love of God that flows in Christ, and
that gave even Christ to us as before. And
this is the bottom-truth, the firm ground of
the saints' perseverance, which men not ta-
king aright, must needs question the matter,
Yea, we may put it out of question upon their
suppositions, for if our own purposes and
strength were all we had to rely on, alas !
how soon were we shaken
So the love of God in Christ is not only
here mentioned as the point of happiness,
from which we can not be removed, but as
the principle of firmness that makes itself
sure of us, and us of it, and will not part
with us.
Now, it is no pride in a Christian, but the
truest humility, to triumph and glory in this.
This is it that makes all sure ; this is the
great comfort and the victory of the Saints:
He that loved us and bought us so dear, will
not lightly slip from us; yea, upon no terms
will he let us go, unless some stronger than
he is, meet with him, and by force bereave
him of us; which we know is impossible.
He and his Father, who are one in them-
selves, and in their strength, and one in this
love, are greater and stronger than all ; and
he that once overcame for us, always over-
comes in us.
Thus he lets temptation and tribulation as-
sault us, and thus neither disproves his love,
nor endangers his right to us; yea, it doth
but give proof and evidence of the invincible
firmness of both. He suffers others to lie soft,
and sit warm, and pamper their flesh at lei-
sure ; but he hath nobler business for his
champions, his worthies, and most of all for
the stoutest of them: he calls them forth to
honorable services, to the hardest encounters ;
he sets them on, one to fight with sickness,
another with poverty, another with reproach-
es and persecutions, with prisons and irons,
and with death itself. And all this while,
loves he them less or they him ? Oh, no.
He looks on and rejoices to see them do Val-
iantly; it is the joy of his heart, no sight on
earth so sweet to him; and it is all the while
by his subduing, and in his strength, that
they hold out in the conflict, and obtain the
conquest.
And thus they are the more endeared to
him by these services and these adventures of
love for him, and he still likewise is the
more endeared to them. Certainly, the more
any one suffers for Christ, the more he loves
514
[SER. XVII.
CHRISTIAN TRIUMPH.
Christ: as love doth grow and engage itself
by all it does and suffers, and burns hotter by
what it encounters and overcomes, as by fuel
added to it. As to Jesus Christ, by what he
suffered for us we are the dearer to him, so
he is to us by all we suffer for his sake.
Love grows most by opposition from others
whosoever, when it is sure of acceptance and
the correspondence of mutual love in the par-
ty loved. Above all, this heavenly, divine
love is strong as death, a vehement flame, a
flame of God, indeed, as the word is, Cant.
viii. 6, and many waters can not quench it :
not all these that here follow one another,
tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, na-
kedness, peril, sword. Yea, in the midst of
these, I say, it grows: the soul cleaves closer
to Christ, the more attempts are made to re-
move it from him, though killed all the day
ong. This passage from the Psalms is most
fit, both to testify that persecution is not un-
usually the lot of the saints, and to give in-
stance of their firm adherence to God in all
troubles, as the church there professeth. And
if the saints in that dispensation could reckon
in such a manner, much more ought Chris-
tians, upon a clearer discovery of the cove-
nant of grace and their union with God in
Christ. The saints are as in a common butch-
ery in the world; yea, not only as sheep for
the slaughter, but sometimes as sheep for the
altar, men thinking it a sacrifice. They that
kill you, says our Savior, shall think they do
God service. Yet even this pulls not from
him. ... They part with life 2 ay, why not ?
This life is but a death, and he is our life for
whom we lose it.
All these things do but increase the victo-
ries and triumphs of love, and make it more
glorious: as they tell of her multiplying la-
bors to that champion, they are not only con-
querors, but more than conquerors, by multi-
plied victories, and they gain in them all both
more honor and more strength ; they are the
fitter for new adventures, and so more than
simple conquerors. We overcome, and are
sure not to lose former conquests, but to add
more, and conquer on to the end ; which oth-
er conquerors are not sure of. Oftentimes
they outlive their own successes and renown,
and lose on a sudden what they have been
gaining a whole lifetime. Not so here ; we
are Secured in the author of our victories. It
is through him that hath loved us ; and he
can not grow less, yea, he shall still grow
greater, till all his enemies be made his foot-
stool.
Having given the challenge and finding
none to answer, and that all, the most appa-
rent, are in a most rhetorical accumulation si-
lenced, tribulation, distress, persecution, fam-
ine, nakedness, peril, sword, &c., he goes on
confidently in the triumph, and avers his as-
surance of full and final victory against all
imaginable power of all the creatures: neith-
er death nor life, not the fear of the most ter-
rible death, nor the hope or love of the most
desirable life. And in the height of this
courage and confidence, he supposes impossi-
ble enemies, Nor angels, nor principalities,
nor powers ;-unless you take it of the angels
of darkness only ; but if it could be possible
that the others should offer at such a thing,
they would be too weak for it. No sense of
any present things, nor apprehensions of
things to come , not anything within the
vast circle of the world above or below ; nor
any creature, can do it. Here sin is not spe-
cified, because he is speaking of outward op-
positions and difficulties expressly, and be-
cause that is removed by the former chal-
lenge, Who shall accuse ? that asserting a free
and final acquittance of all sin, a pardon of
the curse, which yet will never encourage
any of those to sin who live in the assurance
of this love. Oh, no ; and these general
words do include it too. Nothing present, nor
to come, &c. So it is carried clear, and is the
satisfying comfort of all whom Jesus Christ
hath drawn after him, and united in his
love.
It is enough ; whatsoever they may be sep-
arated from, the things or persons dearest in
this world, it is no matter: the jewel is safe.
None can take my Christ from me, and I am
safe in him, as his purchase. None can take
me from him, and being still in his love, and
through him in the Father's love, that is suf-
ficient. What can I fear 2 What can I want?
All other hazards signify nothing. How lit-
tle value are they of ! And for how little a
while am I in danger of them | Methinks,
all should look on a believer with an emulous
eye, and wish his estate more than a king's.
Alas, poor creatures' rich men, great men,
princes and kings, what vain things are they
that you embrace and cleave to . Whatsoev-
er they be, soon must you part. Can you say
of any of them, Who shall separate us 3
Storms may arise and scatter ships that sail
smoothly together in fair weather. Thou
mayest be removed, by public commotions
and calamities, from thy sweet dwellings, and
societies, and estates. You may even live to
see and seek your parting. At last you must
part, for you must die. Then, farewell parks
and palaces, gardens and honors, and even
crowns themselves. Then, dearest friends,
children and wife must be parted with. Lin-
quenda tellus, et domus et placens uſror.
And what hast thou left, poor soul, who hast
not Christ, but that which thou wouldst glad-
ly part with and canst not, the condemning
guilt of all thy sins ?
But the soul that is in Christ, when other
things are pulled away, feels little or nothing :
he cleaves to Christ, and these separations
pain him not. Yea, when that great separa-
tist death, comes, that breaks all other unions,
even that of the soul and body, yet, so far is
it from separating the believer's soul from its
beloved Lord Jesus, that, on the contrary, it
carries it into the nearest union with him,
and the fullest enjoyment of him for ever.
ISAIAH lix. 1, 2.]
515
THE GOODNESS OF GOD.
SERMION XVIII.
GOODNESS OF GOD, AND WICKEDNESS OF MAN.
ISAIAH lix. 1, 2.
Behold, the Lord's hand is not shortened, that it can
not save, neither his ear heavy, that it can not hear.
But your iniquities have separated between you and
and your God, and your sins have hid his face from
you, that he will not hear.
OUR vain minds are naturally fruitful in
nothing more than in mistakes of God. For
the most part we think not on him, and when
we do it, we fancy him according to our own
affections, which are wholly perverse and
crooked.
Men commonly judge it a vain thing to
spend much pains and time in worshipping
him ; and if they are convinced of this, and
tied to it by the professions of his name, then
they think all religion is a shell of external
diligences and observances, and count it
strange if this be not accepted. In the for-
mer chapter we find this, in the prophet's
contest with the people about their fasting,
and their opinion of it; he cuts up their sac-
rifices, and lets them see what was within ;
the skin was sound and looked well, but
being opened, the entrails were found rotten.
And here he enters into another contest,
against the latent atheism of their hearts,
who after their manner of seeking God, not
finding him, and not being delivered, are
ready to think that he either can not, or
will not help, and rather rest on that gross
mistake, than inquire into themselves for the
true cause of their continuing calamities: they
incline rather to think it is some indisposition
in God to help, than what it truly is, a want
of reformation in themselves that hinders it.
It is not likely that they would say thus, or
speak it out in plain terms; no, nor possibly
speak it formally and distinctly within, not
so much as in their thoughts; and yet, they
might have a confused, dark conceit of this.
And much of the atheism of man's heart is of
this fashion : not formed into resolved propo-
sitions, but latent,” in confused notions of it,
scarcely discernible by himself; at least, not
searched out and discerned in his own breast :
there they are, and he sees them not, not
written assertions, but flying fumes, filling
the soul, and hindering it to read the char-
acters of God that are writ upon the con-
science.
The impenitency of men, in any condition,
and particularly under distress, is from the
want of clear apprehensions and deep persua-
sions of God, of his just anger provoked by
their sin, and of his sweetness and readiness
to forgive and embrace a returning sinner; of
his sovereign power, able to rid them out of the
greatest trouble, his ear, quick enough to hear
the cries, yea, the least whispering of an hum-
bled heart in the lowest deep of his sorrow,
* Ezek. viii. 7. Behind the wall.
and his arm, long enough to reach them, and
strong enough to draw them forth. He that
comes unto God, must believe that he is, says
the apostle, Heb. xi. 6. So, certainly, he who
believes that, must come , it will sweetly con-
strain him : he can not but come, who is so
persuaded. Were men's hearts much im-
pressed with that belief in all their troubles,
they would eye men less, and God more, and
without delay they would fasten upon the
church's resolution, Hos. vi. 1: Come and let
us return unto the Lord ; for he hath torn,
and he will heal us, he hath smitten, and he
will bind us up. And this is the very thing
that the prophet would here persuade to by
his present doctrine; and having impleaded
them guilty, he sets them a copy of humble
confession, ver. 12, &c. Hence the frequent
complaints in the Psalms, Why hidest thou
thyself? So Psalm xxii. 2: I cry, but thou
hearest not.
In the words of these two verses, these two
things appear : a sad condition, and the true
cause of it.
The condition, I think, I have reason to
call sad : it is God hiding his face that he
will not hear. This may be either the per-
sonal estate of his children, or the public es-
tate of his church. From a soul, he hides his
face, not so much in the withdrawing of sen-
sible comforts and sweet tastes of joy, which
to many are scarcely known, and to such as
do know them, conmonly do not continue
very long, but it is a suspension of that lively
influence of his Divine power, for raising the
mind in the contemplation of him and com-
munion with him in prayer and meditation,
which yet may be, where those relishes and
senses of joy are not. And the returns of it
appear in beating down the power of sin,
or abating and subduing it, making the heart
more pure and heavenly, making it more to
live by faith in Christ, to be often at the
throne of grace, and to receive gracious an-
swers, supplies of wants, and assistances
against temptations. Now, when there is a
cessation and obstruction of these and such
like workings, the face of God is hid ; the
soul is at a loss, seeks still and can not find
him whom it loveth. And in this condition
it can not take comfort in other things: they
are too low. It is a higher and nobler desire
than to be satisfied, or diverted, with the
childish things that even men delight in who
know not God. It is a love-sickness, which
nothing can cure but the presence and love
of the party loved. Yea, nothing can so much
as allay the pain, and give an interval of ease,
or recover a fainting fit, but some good word
or look, or at least some kind message from
him. Set thee in a palace, and all delights
about thee, and a crown on thy head, yet, if
his love has ceased on thy heart, these are all
nothing without him. It was after David
was advanced to his kingdom, and is in the
Psalm of the dedication of his royal house,
that he said, Thou didst hide thy face, and I
b16
|SER. XVIII.
THE GOODNESS OF GOD,
was troubled. Ps. xxx. 7. g. d. All is dark;
all the shining marble, and the gold, and the
azure, lose their lustre, when thou art not
here dwelling with me. e
And thus for the church : God is the proper
light, the beauty, the life of it. Deck it with
all this world's splendor, with all the dresses
of pompous worship, these are not its genuine
beauty; and they provoke Him who is its or-
nament (as is Jer. ii. 32) to depart. But give
it the native purity and beauty of holy minis-
ters and ordinances well regulated, yet, even
that is but a dead comeliness, proportion and
feature without life, when God is absent.
And as for the matter of deliverances and
working for her, which is here the thing in
hand, none can do anything in that, not the
wisest, nor the best of men, with all their
combined wit and strength, when he retires
and comes not forth, doth not show himself
On the behalf of his people, and work their
works, for them. These have, it may be,
some kind of prayer possibly; they offer at
extraordinaries, and yet obtain nothing, are
not heard. The saddest note in all the Song
of Lamentations, is that at chapter iii. 43,44:
Thou hast covered with anger, and persecuted
ws thou hast slain, thou hast not pitied ; thou
Aast covered thyself with a cloud, that our
prayer should not pass through. Still, while
that door stands open, there is hope and rem-
edy for other evils; but that being shut, what
can a people, or a soul expect, but growing
troubles, one sorrow upon the back of anoth-
er ? Yea, that is the great trouble, the hiding
of his face, and his refusing to hear. Observe
Job xxxiv. 29: When he giveth peace, who
then can make trouble 2 Now the other, in
the same terms, would have been, When he
znakes trouble, who can give peace 2 But in-
stead of this, it is, When he hides his face, who
4hen can behold him 2 No peace but in be-
holding him, and nothing but trouble, that is
the grand trouble, when he hides his face.
And it is expressed in both cases, whether it
be personal or national, whether against a na-
tion or a man only.
This is the thing wherein the strength of
other troubles lie, that which gives them
weight, when they impart and signify thus
much, that the face of God is hid from a soul
or a people.
..We ought to inquire if this be not our con-
dition at this time. Hath he not hid his face
from us? Are we not left in the dark, that we
know not which way to turn us? Either we
must sit still and do nothing, or, if we stir, we
do but rush one upon another, as in darkness,
contesting, each to have the way, and yet,
when we have it given us, we know not well
which way to go. And we think to be cleared,
but it fails us; as in this chapter, ver. 9: We
wait for light, but behold obscurity, for bright-
ness, but we walk in darkness : we grope for
the wall like the blind, and stumble at noonday
as in the night. Our counsels are strangely
darkened, and there is no right understanding
one of another. By all our debates, little or
no clearing of things is attained, but our pas-
sions are more inflamed, and parties are fur-
ther off; the light of sound judgment gone,
and with it the heat of love, instead of which,
that miserable infernal heat, heat without
light, mutual hatreds and revilings; both
sides (verbally at least) agreeing in the gen-
eral terms both of their desires and designs,
and yet falling out about modes and fashions
of them. And to say no more of parties, the
enemies of religion on both hands, right and
left, are in action and in power, and only
those who love that which we conceive is the
way of truth, standing as a naked prey to
whether of the two shall prevail. Desires
and prayers we have presented, and see as
yet no appearance of an issue, but further
confusion, even fasting to strife and debate.
And where are there any that look like per-
sons to stand in the gap, lifting up holy hands,
without wrath or doubting 2 Hearts are still
as unhumbled, and live as unreformed as ever!
New intestine troubles are most likely to arise,
few or none laying it to heart, and with calm,
lowly spirits mourning before God for it.
Ephraim against Manasseh, and Manasseh
against Ephraim, and they both against Ju-
dah ; and for all this, his anger is not turned
away, but his hand is stretched out still. Isa.
ix. 21.
But generally, men ought to be less in de-
scanting one on another, and more in search-
ing and inquiring each into himself. Even
where it may seem zeal, yet, nature and pas-
sion may more easily let in the other ; but
this self-search and self-censure is an uneasy
task, the most unpleasant of all things to our
carnal, self-loving hearts. But the heavy
hand of God shall never turn from us, nor his
gracious face turn toward us, till there is
more of this among us. Most say their pray-
ers, and as they are little worth, they look
little after them, inquire not what becomes
of them. But, my brethren, would we con-
tinue to call, and find favorable answers, we
must be more within. The heart must be
made a temple to God, wherein sacrifices do
ascend ; but that they may be accepted, it
must be purged of idols, nothing left in any
corner though never so secret, to stir the jeal-
ousy of our God, who sees through all. Oh,
happy that heart that is, as Jacob's house,
purged, in which no more idols are to be
found, but the Holy God dwelling there alone
as in his holy temple !
Behold, the Lord's hand is not shortened.]
Much of all knowledge lies in the knowl-
edge of causes; and in practical things, much
of the right ordering of them depends on it.
The true cause of a disease found out, is half
the cure. Here we have the miseries of an
afflicted people reduced to their real cause:
that which is not the cause, is first removed.
Behold, the Lord’s hand is not shortened, that
it can not save ; but your iniquities have sepa-
rated between you and your God.
IsA. lix. 1, 2.]
517
AND THE WICKEDNESS OF MAN.
We are not only to be untaught this error,
that we think not so, but are to be taught to
believe and think on that truth, that God is
still the same in power and goodness, to keep
up the motion of it in our hearts. So we may
call in past experiences and relations of God's
former workings for his people, and that with
much use and comfort. He who brought forth
his people out of Egypt with an outstretched
arm (as still they are reminded of that deliv-
erance by the prophets, and called to look on
it as the great instance and pledge of their
restoration by the same hand), can again de-
º his people when at the lowest. Isaiah
2
And with this belief, we shall not faint in
the time of deep distress, whether our own,
or the church's, knowing the unalterable, in-
vincible, infinite power of our God; that all
the strength of all enemies is nothing, and
łess than nothing, to his : their devices, knots
of straw. What is it that is to be done for his
church, if her and his glory be interested in
it? There remains no question in point of diſ-
ficulty ; that hath no place with him. The
more difficult, yea, if impossible for us or any
human strength, the more fit work for him.
Because it is hard for you, shall it also be
hard for me 2 saith the Lord in the prophet.
And where Jeremy uses that argument in
prayer, he hath his answer returned in the
same words, as the echo to the prayer, re-
sounding from heaven (chap. xxxii. 17, com-
pared with wer. 27), and that in relation to the
great restoration of the Jews from Babylon,
as is expressly promised, ver. 36, &c. And
there the prophet gives that first great exam-
ple of Divine power, the forming of the world,
ver. 17: Behold, thou hast made the heaven
and the earth by thy great power.
Men think it is an easy, common belief, and
that none doubt of the omnipotency of God.
But oh, the undaunted confidence it would
give to the heart, being indeed firmly be-
lieved, and wisely used and applied to partic-
ular exigencies! Men either doubt, or (which,
upon the matter, for the use of it, is all one)
they forget who the Lord is, when their hearts
misgive them because of the church's weak-
ness, and the enemy’s power. What is that
upon the matter ? Remember whose is the
church, God’s, and what his power is, and
then see if thou canst find any cause of fear.
See Isa. xli. 14: Fear not, thou worm Jacob,
and ye men—few or weak men—(so the word
is)—of Israel : I will help thee, saith the
Lord, and thy Redeemer, the Holy One of Is-
rael. So Isa. li. 12, 13: I, even I, am he that
comforteth you. There is the strength of it.
Who art thou, that thou shouldst be afraid of
a man that shall die, and of the son of man,
twhich shall be made as grass ; and forgettest
the Lord thy Maker, that hath stretched forth
the heavens, and laid the foundations of the
earth 3 Dobut think aright on him, and then
see if it be possible for thee to fear. All thy
little doubts and despondencies of mind will
fly and vanish away before one clear thought
of thy God. Though the world were turning
upside down, it shall go well with them who
fear him.
And as this apprehension of God strength-
ens faith, so it quickens prayer. It stirs thee
up to seek to him for help, when thou know-
est and rememberest that there it is. There is
help in him, power enough, and no want of
readiness and good will neither. If we apply
ourselves to seek him aright, his hand is as
strong to save, and his ear as quick to hear,
as ever. And in this, that his ear is not
heavy, is signified both his speedy and certain
knowledge of all requests sent up to him, and
his gracious inclination to receive them. Now,
these persuasions do undoubtedly draw up
the heart toward him.
Again, as they strengthen faith, and quick-
en prayer, so they teach us repentance, direct
us inward to self-examination, to the search-
ing, and finding out, and purging out of sin,
when deliverance is delayed; for we are
sure it stops not upon either of these on God’s
part, either the shortness of his hand, or the
dulness of his ear. Whence is it then 2 Cer-
tainly, it must be somewhat on our side, that
works against us, and prejudices our desires.
So here, thus you see the clear aim of it: Be-
hold, the Lord’s hand is not shortened, that
it can not save, nor his ear heavy, that it can
not hear. What is it then that hinders ? Oh
it is this, out of all doubt—Your iniquities
separate, old sins unrepented of, and new
sins still added, as all impenitent sinners do.
Now this separates between you and God, for
he is a holy God, a just God: who hates in-
iquity. And between you and your God: that
pleads no connivance at your sins, but rather
calls for nearer inspection and sharper pun-
ishment. He will be sanctified in those that
are near him, in them especially. Their sin
is aggravated much by that relation, your
God. To sin against him so grossly, so con-
tinuedly, with so high a hand, and so impen-
itent hearts; not reclaimed by all his mer-
cies, by the remembrance of his covenant
made with you, and mercies bestowed on
you, nor by the fear of his judgments threat- .
ened, nor by the feeling of them inflicted; no
returning or relenting, not of his own people
to their God—surely, you must be yet more
punished. Amos iii. 2: You only have I
known of all the families of the earth; there-
fore will I punish you for all your iniquities.
q. d. I let others escape with many things
that I can not pass over in you. You fast
and pray, it may be, you howl and keep
a noise, but you amend nothing, forsake not
one sin for all your sufferings, and for all
your moanings and cries. You would be
delivered, but do not part with one of your
lusts or wicked customs, even for a deliver-
ance; and so the quarrel remains still. It
is that which separates, is as a huge wall
between us, between me and your prayers,
and between you and my helping hand; and
518
[SER. XVIII.
THE GOODNESS OF GOD, &c.
though I do hear, and could help, yet, I will
not : till this wall be down, you shall not see
me, nor find by any gracious sign that I hear
you. This hides his face, that he will not
hear.
This way God hath established in his ordi-
nary methods with his people: though some-
times he uses his own privilege, yet, usu-
ally he links sin and calamity together, and
repentance and deliverance together.
Sin separates and hides his face, not only
from a people that professes his name, but
even from a soul that really bears his name
stamped upon it. Though it can not fully,
and for ever, cut off such a soul, yet, in part,
and for a time, it may, yea, to be sure, it will
separate, and hide the face of God from them.
Their daily inevitable frailties do not this:
but either a course of careless walking, and
many little unlawful liberties taken to them-
selves, that will rise and gather as a cloud,
and hide the face of God; or some one gross
sin, especially if often reiterated, will prove
as a firm stone-wall, or rather as a brazen-
wall, built up by their own hands between
them and heaven, and will not be so easily
dissolved or broken down; and yet, till that
be, the light of His countenance, who is the
life of the soul, will be eclipsed and withheld
from it.
And this considered, besides that law of
love that will forbid so foul ingratitude, yet, I
say, this considered, even our own interest
will make us wary of sinning. Though we
were sure not to be yet altogether separated
from the love of God by it, yet, thou who
hast any persuasion of that love, darest thou
venture upon any known sin 2 Thou art not
hazardless and free from all damage by it, if
thou hast need of that argument to restrain
thee. Then, before thou run upon it, sit
down and reckon the expense; see what will
it cost thee if thou do commit it. Thou know-
est that once it cost the heart-blood of thy
Redeemer to expiate it, and is that a light
matter to thee ? And though that paid all
that score, nothing thou canst suffer being
able to do anything that way, yet, as an una-
voidable present fruit of it, it will draw on
this damage; thou shalt be sure for a time,
it may be for a long time, possibly most of
thy time, nearly all thy days, it may darken
much that love of God to thee, which if
thou dost but esteem, think on it. It chan-
ges not in him, but a sad change will sin
bring on thee, as to thy sight and apprehen-
sion of it. Many a sweet hour of blessed
communion with thy God shalt thou miss,
and either be dead and stupid in that want,
or mourn after him, and yet find, though
sighs and tears continue, the door shut, yea,
a dead wall raised between thee and him,
and at best much straitening and pains to
take it down again ; contrary to other walls
and buildings, which are far more easily
pulled down than built up, but this is a great
deal easier built up than pulled down. True,
thy God could cast it down with a word, and it
is his free grace that must do it, otherwise
thou couldst never remove it: yet will he
have thee feel thy own handywork, and
know thy folly. Thou must be at pains to
dig at it, and may be it will cost thee broken
bones in taking it down, pieces of it falling
heavy and sad upon thy conscience, and crush-
ing thee; as David cried out at that work, for
a healing word from God, Make me to hear
joy and gladness, that the bones which thou
hast broken may rejoice. Psalm li. 8. It will
force thee to say, O fool that I was, what
meant Iſ Oh! it is good, keeping near God,
and raising no divisions. What are sins ?
False delights, by which a man, but provides
his own vexation. Now, this distance from
God, and all this turmoiling, and breaking,
and crying before he appears again, consider
if any pleasure of sin can countervail this
damage. Surely, when thou art not out of
thy wits, thou wilt never make such a bar-
gain for all the pleasure thou canst make out
of any sin, to breed thyself all this pains, and
all this grief, at Once to displease thy God,
and displease thyself, and make a partition
between him and thee. Oh, sweet and safe
ways of holiness, walking with God in his
company and favor He that orders his con-
versation aright, he sees the loving kindness
of the Lord : It is shown to him ; he lives in
the sight of it. Psalm l. 23.
But if any such separation is made, yet, is
it thy great desire to have it removed ? Why
then there is hope. See to it, labor to break
it down, and pray to him to help thee, and he
will put forth his hand, and then it must fall.
And in all thy sense of separation, look to
him who brake down the middle wall of par-
tition, Eph. ii. 14. There it is spoken of as
between men, Jews and Gentiles, but so as it
was also between the Gentiles and God, who
were separated from his people, and from
himself. See ver, 16: That he might recon-
cile both to God in one body ; and ver. 18:
Through him we have access by one Spirit to
the Father. And then he adds, that they
were no more strangers and foreigners,
dwelling on the other side of the wall, trapoixot,
as the word is, but fellow-citizens with the
saints, and of the household of God.
Oh, that we knew more what it were to
live in this sweet society, in undivided fel-
lowship with God! Alas! how little is un-
derstood this living in him, separated from
sin and this world, which otherwise do sep-
arate from him ; solacing our hearts in his
love, and despising the base muddy delights
that the world admires; hoping for that New
Jerusalem, where none of these walls of sin
are, nor any one stone of them, and for that
bright day wherein there is no cloud nor mist
to hide our Sun from us.
Now, for the corºition of the church,
know sin to be the great obstructer of its
peace, making him to withdraw his hand,
and hide his face, and to turn away his ear
RoMI. xiii. 11–14.] TIME TO
AWAKE. 519
from our prayers, and loath our fasts: as Isa.
.i.15, and Jer. xiv. 12. The quarrel stands;
sin not repented of and removed. The wall
is still standing; oaths, and sabbath-break-
ing, and pride, and oppression, and heart-
burnings still remaining. Oh, what a noise
of religion and reformation 1 All sides are for
the name of it, and how little of the thing !
The gospel itself is despised, grown stale,
as trivial doctrine. Oh, my beloved if I
could speak many hours without intermis-
sion, all my cry would be, Repent and pray.
Let us search and try our ways, and turn
wnto the Lord our God. Oh, what walls of
every one's sin are set to it! Dig diligently
to bring down thine own ; and for those huge
walls of public national guiltinesses, if thou
canst do nothing to them more, compass them
about as Jericho, and look up to heaven for
their downfall. Cry, Lord, these we our-
selves have reared, but without thee who
can bring them down 3 Lord, throw them
down for us. A touch of thy hand, a word
of thy mouth, will make them fall. Were
we less busied in impertinences, and more in
this most needful work, it might do some
good. Who knows but the Lord might make
his own way clear, and return and visit us,
and make his face to shine, that we might
be saved
*-*-
SERMION XIX.
TIME TO AWAKE.
RoMANs xiii. 11, 12, 13, 14.
And that, knowing the time, that now it is high time
to awake out of sleep; for now is our salvation
nearer than when we believed.
The night is far spent, the day is at hand: let us
therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us
put on the armor of light.
Let us walk honestly as in the day; not in rioting and
drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness,
not in strife and envying.
But put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not
provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof.
THE highest beauty of the soul, the very
image of God upon it, is holiness. He that
is aspiring to it himself, is upon a most
excellent design ; and if he can do anything
to excite and call up others to it, he performs
a work of the greatest charity.
This, St. Paul doth frequently, and pres-
singly in his writings. This epistle, as it
doth admirably clear the doctrine of justifi-
cation, it doth not less earnestly urge the doc-
trine of sanctification. That one sentence
about the middle thereof, does excellently
unite them, and so is the summary of all that
goes before, and all that follows: ch. viii. 1:
There is therefore now no condemnation to
them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not
after the flesh, but after the Spirit.
The present words are as an alarm, or
morning watch-bell, of singular use, not only
awaking a Christian to his day's work, but
withal reminding him what it is. And these
two shall be all our division of them. 1. Our
awaking sounded. 2. Our walking directed.
The former, ver. 11, 12, tells us, it is time to
rise, and calls us up to put on our clothes,
and, being soldiers, our arms. The latter,
ver. 13, directeth our behavior and employ-
ment throughout the day. The last verse
doth shortly, and that fully and clearly, fold
up both together. We shall take the words
just as they lie.
And that, knowing the time. This imports
much in all actions, and here it is the apos-
tle's great argument. Now it is unfit to
sleep, knowing the time : however it might
have been before, now it is very unseasona-
ble and unsuitable, that you lie snoring as at
midnight. Do you know what o'clock it is
(à èpa)? It is time to rise: it is morning, the
day begins to appear.
[Observation.] All the days of sinful na-
ture are dark night, in which there is no right
discerning of spiritual things. Some light
there is of reason, to direct natural and civil
actions, but no daylight. Till the sun arise
it is night still, for all the stars, and the moon
to help them. Notwithstanding natural spec-
ulations, that are more remote, and all pru-
dence and policy for affairs, that come some-
what nearer to action, yet we are still in the
night. And you do think that a sad life, but
the truth is, we sleep on in it, and our heads
are still full of new dreams which keep us
sleeping. We are constantly drunk with cares
or desires of sense, and so our sleep contin-
ues. Sometimes it is called death—dead in
sins, &c. Now sleep is brother to death;
and so, by it not unfitly is the same state re-
sembled. No spiritual life we have at all,
and therefore in that sense are truly dead.
But because there is in us a natural life, and
in that, a capacity of spiritual life, therefore
we are said to be asleep. As in a deep sleep,
our soul is bound up and drowned in flesh,
through a surcharge of the vapors of gross,
sensible things that we glut ourselves with-
al; and the condition of our wisest thoughts,
in relation to our highest good, are nothing
but dreams and reveries. Your projectings,
and bargainings, and buildings, these be a
better sort of dreams; but your envyings, and
mutual despisings and discontents, your de-
tracting and evil-speaking, these are more
impertinent, and to yourselves more perplex
ing. And your sweetest enjoyments in this
life, which you think most real, are but shad-
ows of delight, a more pleasant sort of
dreams. All pomps and royal solemnities,
the Scripture calls havragtas, phantasies, Acts
xxv. 23. A man will not readily think so
while he is in them. Somnium narrare vigi-
lantis est. We do not perceive the vanity of
our dreams, and know that they are so, till
we be awaked. Sometimes in a dream a
man will have such a thought that it is but a
dream, yet doth he not thoroughly see the
f
520
[SER. XIX.
TIME TO AWAKE.
folly thereof, but goes on in it. The natural
man may have sometimes a glance of such
thoughts, that all these things he is either
turmoiling or delighting in, are vanity and
nothing to the purpose ; yet, he awakes not,
but raves on still in them ; he shifts a little,
turns on his bed as a door on its hinges, but
turns not off, does not rise.
But the spiritual-minded Christian, who is
indeed awake, and looks back on his former
thoughts and ways, oh, how does he disdain
himself, and all his former high fancies that
he was most pleased with, finding them
dreams' Qh, what a fool, what a wretch
was I, while my head was full of such stuff,
building castles in the air, imagining and
catching at such gains, and such preferments
and pleasures, and either they still running
before me, and I could not overtake them, or,
if I though I did, what have I now, when Í
see what it is, and find that I have embraced
al shadow, false hopes, and fears, and joys!
He thinks he hath eaten, and his soul is empty.
Isaº Xxix.8. And you that will sleep on, may:
but sure I am, when you come to your death.
bed, if possibly you awake then, then shall
you look back, with sad regret, upon what-
$9ever you most esteemed and gloried in under
the sun. While they are coming toward you,
they have some show ; but, as a dream that
is past, when these gay things are flown by,
then we see how vain they are. As that
luxurious king who caused to be painted on
his tomb two fingers, as sounding one upon
another, with that word, All is not worth so
nuºh, Non tanti est. I know not how men
make a shift to satisfy themselves; but, take a
sober and awakened Christian, and set him in
the midst of the best of all things that are here,
his heart would burst with despair of satisfac.
tion, Were it not for a hope that he hath, be-
yond all that this poor world either attains or is
seeking after, and that hope is, indeed, the
dawning of the day that is here spoken of
It is time to awake, says he ; your salvation
ts nearer than when ye believed. That bright
day you look for, is hastening forward; it is
nearer than when you began to believe. The
night isfar spent, the gross darkness is already
Past, some daylight there is, and it is every
moment growing, and the perfect, full morn-
.ing-light of it is very near.
[Qbservation.] Grace, and the gospel that
Works it, compared with the dark night of
nature, is the day, and it is often so called:
the apostle here calls it so, Let us walk homest-
'y as in the day. But yet, that same light of
the gospel shining to us in the word, and
within us by the Spirit, is but the appearance
or approaching of the day, a certain pledge
of it, yea, a kind of beginning of it, telling us
that it is near. It is one and the same light,
and where it enters into any soul, it makes
sure that eternal full day to it, that it shall
not be disappointed of, more than the day can
go back, and the sun fail to rise when the
dawn is begun. And this begun light is still
growing clearer, and tending to the perfect
day. Prov. iv. 18. And at the first peep or .
appearance of it, so much it is, that the soul
is called to awake and arise, and put on day-
clothes, and apply itself to the actions of the
day; and that is the thing the apostle here
presses by it.
Oh, the blessed gospel, revealing God in
Christ, and calling up sinners to communion
with him, dispelling that black night of igno-
rance and accursed darkness that otherwise
had never ended, but passed on to an endless
might of eternal misery Says not Zacharias
with good reason in his song, that it was
through the tender mercy of God that this
dayspring from on high did visit us 2
Now, says the apostle, this day appearing,
it is time to awake. And the longer it is since
it began to appear, and the clearer the light
grows, the more high time is it to awake and
rise, and cast off night-clothes and night-
works, works of darkness, and to put on gar-
ments, yea, armor of light. He that is a
soldier, his garments are not on till his arms
be on and his sword about him ; then he is
ready : especially in a time and posture of
war, and the enemy lying migh, even round
about him ; and this is every Christian's state
while he is here. An armor of light, not
only strong and useful, but comely and grace-
ful, fit to walk abroad in, bright shining
armor ; as your old poets describe their
champions, dazzling their enemies’ eyes.
And thus apparelled, we are to behave
ourselves suitably, to walk homestly as in the
day, not in rioting and drunkenness. That
is a night-work, as the apostle hath it, 1
Thess. v. 7. To stagger and reel in the streets
in daylight, to be drunk in the morning, is
most shameful: so is that spirit of drunken-
ness as unbeseeming a Christian ; to see them
hurrying and justling one another, as drunk
with love of earthly things, and their spirits
by that besotted and unfitted for spiritual
things, that they find no pleasure in them.
Chambering and wantonness. All impure,
lascivious conversation, how vile are these,
and unfit for the light ! Even nature is
ashamed to be seen in these things, in the
natural light of the day; much more will
grace in the spiritual light of the gospel.
Strife and envy. As scuffles and hotguarrels
are most of all unseemly in the streets in day-
light, so, the quarrels and jarrings of Chris-
tians are very shameful before the light
wherein they walk. The gospel of Christ,
the grand doctrine thereof, is meekness and
love. But oh where are they, those graces
that so abound in the doctrine of Christianity,
and yet are so scarce in the lives of Christians?
Where are they who look gladly On the good
of others, and bear evils and injuries from their
neighbors patiently, and repay evil with good?
Thus it ought to be; but, on the contrary, how
ready are the most to part on the least occa-
sions, to bite and snarl at each other | There
is more still of the spirit of the dragon, than
RoM. xiii. 11–14.]
521
TIME TO AWAKE.
of the dove. My brethren, remember and
consider, that the gospel-light shines among
us, and that more clearly than in former times,
and more clearly than to most people in the
world in these times; and do not outface and
affront the blessed light with the accursed
works of darkness. You might have been
profane in former times, or in some other
place, at a cheaper rate.
Know, that if this glorious light do not
break off your course of sin, it will increase
your load of judgment. The heaviest of all
condemnations, is to live in darkness, and to
live and die in it, in the midst of light.
Among all your desperate accursed wishes,
this shall be one, and a chief one, that either
the Son of God had never come into the world,
or that you had never heard of him.
Much of what we aim at, were gained, if
Christians could be brought to consider who
they are, and to walk like themselves: it
would raise them above the base pleasures
of sin, and the snares of the world. The way
of life is on high to the just : there is a holy
loftiness, a disdain of all impure sordid ways.
It is said of Jehoshaphat, that his heart was
!ift up in the ways of the Lord. 2 Chron.
xvii. 6. As a vain, self-conceited lifting up
of the heart is the great enemy of our welfare
(as it is written of another, even of a good
king, Hezekiah, that his heart was lift up,
therefore was wrath upon him); so there is a
happy exaltation of the heart, when it is rais-
ed in God, to despise all communion with the
unholy, and the unholy ways of the world.
This, my brethren, is that which I would
were wrought in you by the consideration of
our holy calling. We are called to holiness,
and not to uncleanness.-Ye are the children
of the light and of the day. 1 Thess. iv. 7;
V. 5. Base night ways, such as can not endure
the light, do not become you. O that come-
liness which the saints should study, that
decorum which they should keep in all their
Ways, vºxmuovos, One action like another, and
all like Christ, living as in the light. They
that converse with the best company, such
persons are obliged to more decency in apparel.
We live in the light, in the company of angels
of God, and Jesus Christ; and therefore should
not act anything that is low or mean, unbe-
seeming the rank we keep, and the presence
of those with whom we associate. When
the king passes through the country in prog-
ress, they who see him seldom, being either
to attend him in his way, or to receive him
into their houses, will labor to have all things
in the best order they can for the time; but
they that live at court, and are daily in the
ing's presence, are constantly courtlike in
their habit and carriage, and all about them.
9 followers of the Lamb, let your garments
be always white; yea, let him be your gar-
ment; clothe yourselves with himself; have
your robes made of his spotless fleece.
. Put on the Lord Jesus. No resemblance
is more usual than that of people's customs to
their clothes, their habitudes to their habits.
This the apostle used in the foregoing words,
Put on the [furniture, or] armor of light,
having cast off the works of darkness, as
clothes of darkness, might-clothes. And the
word, walking decently, has something of the
same resemblance contained in it. And here
we have the proper beauty and ornament of
Christians, even the Lord Jesus, recommend-
ed to them under the same notion, Put on the
Lord Jesus Christ. Him we put on by faith,
and are clothed with him as our righteous-
ness. We come unto our Father in our Elder
Brother’s perfumed garments, and so obtain
the blessing which he, in a manner, was
stripped of for our sakes. He did undergo the
curse, and was made a curse for our sakes:
so the apostle speaks of him, Gal. iii. 13. We
put him on, as the Lord our righteousness,
and are made the righteousness of God in him.
This investitute is first, when our persons are
made acceptable, and we come into court.
But there is another putting of him on, in the
conformity of holiness, which always accom-
panies the former ; and that is it which is
here meant. And this I declare unto you,
that whosoever does not thus put him on,
shall find themselves deceived in the other,
if they imagine it belongs to them.
They who are the sons of God, and have
the hope of inheriting with Christ, do really
become like him, are even heirs in some
degree now ; and that blessed expectation
they have, is to be fully like him. 1 John
iii. 3. When he appears, we shall be like him,
saith the apostle. And in the meanwhile,
they are,endeavoring to be so, and somewhat
attaining it; as he adds, Every one that hath
this hope, purifieth himself, as he is pure. He
is the only begotten Son, and we are so restor-
ed in him to the dignity of sons, that withal
we are really changed into his likeness. He
is the image of the Father that is renewed
upon us. º
It is the substance of religion, to be like
him whom we worship.” Man's end and
perfection is likeness to God. But oh, the
distance, the unlikeness, yea, the contrariety,
that is fallen upon our nature | The carnal
mind is enmity to God : the soul is, as it were,
become flesh, and so most unsuitable to the
Father of Spirits; it is become like the beast
that perishes. Now, to repair and raise us,
this was the course taken : we could not rise
up to God, he came down to us, yea into us,
to raise and draw us up again to him. He
became like us, that we might become like
him. God first put on man, that man might
put on God. Putting on the Lord Jesus, we
put on man; but that man is God, and so, in
putting on man, we put on God. Thus, put-
ting on Christ, we put on all grace: we do
this, not only by studying him as our copy
and example, but by real participation of his
Spirit; and that, so as that daily the likeness
is growing, while we are carried by that
* Summa religionis imitari quem colis.
66
522
[SER. XIX.
TIME TO AWAKE.
Spirit to study his example, and enabled in
some measure to conform to it; so that these
two grow together, growing in grace, and in
the knowledge of our Lord and Savior, Jesus
Christ. He is the armor of light before
spoken of: all our ornament and safety is in
him. Some pictures of great persons you have
seen, with arms and robes on at once: thus
we, when clothed with Christ, have our arms
and robes both on at once, yea, both in one,
for he is both. So this is the great study of
a Christian, to eye and read Christ much, and,
by looking on him, to become more and more
like him, making the impression deeper by
each day's meditation and beholding of him.
His Spirit in us, and that love his Spirit works,
make the work easy, as sympathies do. And
still the more the change is wrought, it be-
comes still the more easy to work it. This
is excellently described by this apostle, 2 Co-
rinthians iii. 18.
Now we see our business: oh that we had
hearts to it ! It is high, it is sweet, to be
growing more and more Christ-like every
day. What is the purchase or conquest of
kingdoms to this 2 Oh, what are we doing,
who mind not this more ? Even they whose
proper work it is, how remiss are they in it,
and what small progress do they make Are
we less for the world and ourselves, and
more for God, this year than the former ?—
more meek and gentle, abler to bear wrongs,
and to do good for them, more holy and spir-
itual in our thoughts and ways, more abun-
dant and fervent in prayer ? I know there
will be times of deadness, and winter sea-
Sons, even in the souls of living Christians;
but it is not always so, it will come about
yet ; , so that, take the whole course of a
Christian together, he is advancing, putting
on still more of Christ, and living more in
him. There is a closer union between the
Soul and this its spiritual clothing, than be-
tween the body and its garments: that doth
import a transformation into Christ, put on
as a new life, or a new self. The Christian
by faith doth this: he puts off himself, old
carnal self, and instead thereof, puts on Jesus
Christ, and thenceforward hath no more re-
gard of that old self, than of old cast clothes,
but is all for Christ, joys in nothing else.
This is a mystery which can not be under-
stood but by partaking of it.
My brethren, learn to have these thoughts
frequent and occurrent with you on all occa-
sions. Think, when about anything, how
would Christ behave himself in this? Even
so let me endeavor.
You will possibly say, they that speak
thus, and advise thus, do not do thus. Oh,
that that were not too true ! Yet there be
some that be sincere in it, and although it be
but little that is attained, yet the very aim is
excellent, and somewhat there is that is done
by it. It is better to have such thoughts and
desires, than altogether to give it up ; and
the very desire, being serious and sincere,
does so much change the habitude and usage
of the soul and life, that it is not to be des-
pised.
Now follows, And make no provision for the
flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof. And it will
follow necessarily. We hear much to little
purpose. Oh, to have the heart touched by
the Spirit with such a word as is here ! It
would untie it from all these things. These
are the words, the very reading of which
wrought so with Augustine, that, of a licen-
tious young man, he turned a holy faithful
servant of Jesus Christ. While you were
without Christ, you had no higher nor other
business to do, than to attend and serve the
flesh; but once having put him on, you are
other men, and other manners do become
ou. Alia aetas alios mores postulat.
This forbids not eating, and drinking, and
clothing, and providing for these, nor decen-
cy and comeliness in them. The putting on
of Christ does not bar the sober use of them :
yea, the moderate providing for the necessi-
ties of the flesh, while thou art tied to dwell
in it, that may be done in such a way as shall
be a part of thy obedience and service to
God. But to lay in provision for the lusts
of it, is to victual and furnish his enemy and
thine own ; for the lusts of the flesh do strive
against God's Spirit, and war against thy
soul. Gal. v. 17; 1 Pet. ii. 11.
This was the quarrel between God and his
own people in the wilderness. Bread for
their necessities, he gave them, but they re-
quired meat for their lusts (which should
rather have been starved to death than fed),
and many of them fell in the quarrel. He
gave them their desire, but gave them a
plague with it, and they died with the meat
between their teeth. Many who seem to fol-
low God, and to have put on Christ, yet con-
tinuing in league with their lusts, and pro-
viding for them, they are permitted awhile so
to do, and are not withheld from their desire,
and seem to prosper in the business; but
though not so sudden and sensible as that of
the Israelites, there is no less certain a curse
joined with all they purchase and provide for
that unhallowed use. It is certainly the pos-
ture and employment of most of us, even
who are called Christians, to be purveyors
for the flesh, even for the lusts of it (ad su-
pervacuum sudare); these lusts comprehend-
ing all sensual, and all worldly, fleshly, self-
pleasing projects. Even some things that
seem a little more decent and refined come
under this account. What are men com-
monly doing but projecting and laboring, be-
yond necessity, for fuller and finer provision
for back and belly, and to feed their pride, and
raise themselves and theirs somewhat above
the condition of others about them ? And
where men's interests meet in the teeth, and
cross each other, there arise heart-burnings
and debates, and an evil eye one against an-
other, even on fancied prejudice, where there
is nothing but crossing a humor. So the
PsALM cvii. 43.]
523
TIME TO AWAKE..
grand idol is their own will, that must be
provided for and served in all things, that
takes them up early and late, how they may
be at ease, and pleased, and esteemed, and
honored. This is the making provision for
the flesh and its lusts, and from this are they
all called who have put on Christ ; not to a
hard, mean, unpleasant life, instead of that
other, but to a far more high and more truly
pleasant life, that disgraces all those their
former pursuits which they thought so gay
while they knew no better. There is a tran-
scendent sweetness in Christ, that puts the
flesh out of credit. Put on Christ, thy robe
royal, and make no provision for the flesh ;
Surely thou wilt not then go and turmoil in
the kitchen. A soul clothed with Christ,
stooping to any sinful delight, or an ardent
pursuit of anything earthly, though lawful,
doth wonderfully degrade itself. Methinks
it is as a king's son in his princely apparel,
playing the scullion, sitting down to turn the
Spits. A soul living in Christ indeed, hath
no vacancy for the superfluous, luxurious de-
mands of flesh, yea, supplies the very neces-
sities of it with a kind of regret. A necessi-
tatibus meis libera me, Domine, said one : De-
liver me, Lord, from my necessities.
Oh, raise up your spirits, you that pretend
to anything in Christ; delight in him, and
let his love satisfy you at all times. What
need you go a begging elsewhere 2 All you
would add, makes you the poorer, abates so
much of your enjoyment of him ; and what
can compensate that ? Put on the Lord Je-
sus, and then view yourselves, and see if you
be fit to be the slaves of flesh and earth.
These two, Put on the Lord Jesus, and
Make no provision, are directly the represen-
tation of the church, Apoc. xii. A woman
clothed with the Sun, and having the moon
under her feet, needed borrow no beauty from
it, or anything under it. She left the scarlet,
and the purple, and the gold, to the harlot
after spoken of, for her dressing.
The service of the flesh is a work the
Christian can not fold to, till he forgets what
clothes he has on. This is all, my brethren.
Oh that we could be once persuaded to put
on Christ, and then resolve and remember to
do nothing unbeseeming that attire
SERMION XX.
OBSERVATION OF PROVIDENCE.
PsALM cwii. 43.
Who is wise, and will observe these things, even they
shall understand the loving-kindness of the Lord.
Most men live in a brutal sensitive life,
live not so much as the life of reason; but
far fewer the Divine life of faith, which is
farther above common reason than that is
above sense. The spiritual light of grace is
that which makes day in the soul: all other
wisdom is but night-light. Then I saw that
wisdom eacelleth folly, as far, as light eacel-
!eth darkness. Eccl. ii. 13. This higher sort
of knowledge is that the prophet speaks of.
Having discoursed excellently through the
Psalm of the wisdom, power, and goodness
of God, so legible in his providence toward
men, and often called up the dull minds of
men to consider these his works, and bless
him for them, he closes with this applaud-
ment of their happiness that truly do so,
Whoso is wise, &c.
They that spake it knew not how true
their speech is, who have called the world a
nest of fools. It is true, there is very little
even of natural clearness of judgment among
men, but surely far less of this true spiritual
wisdom. So that if we read this as a ques-
tion, Whoso is wise 2–Oh, how few are
there ! And yet, most imagine they are;
few are convinced they are fools, and that is
the height of their folly. That word is most
true, Job xi. 12; Vain man would be wise,
though he be born as the wild ass’s colt. In
youth, he runs wild, unbroken, and unuseful;
and in fuller age, hath but a brutish, slavish
life, yokes in with beasts in the same kind of
labor; or in little better; turmoiling and
drudging to serve his base lusts, his gain, his
pleasure, and forgets quite what high condi-
tion the soul that sparkles within him is born
to, and made capable of. In a word, he
knows not God. That is both his folly and
his misery. How much of life passes ere
we consider what we live for And though
all applied, how incapable are a great many
to know anything ! Inter homines quid ho-
mine rarius ! Among men what more rare
than man, a truly rational being 2 To this
purpose there is a notable word, Job xi. 8, 9.
Now, to stir up your desires and endeavors
after this wisdom, consider that it is the
proper excellency of the rational nature, the
true elevation of human nature, to be wise.
And they are not such, and know somewhat
of their own defect, yet would willingly pass
for such, and had rather be accounted un-
comely, yea, even dishonest, than unwise
(call a man anything rather than a fool); but
yet, if they could, would rather have the
thing than the reputation of it, and desire
really to be wise if it were in their power.
Now it were good to work on this design
within us, and to have it drawn into the right
channel. Would you be wise ? Then, seek
true wisdom. What most men seek and ad-
mire in themselves and others are but false
shadows and appearances of wisdom ; the
knowledge either of base, low things, as to
scrape and gather together, or else of vain,
unprofitable things, and such knowledge as
is for the most part but imaginary. For most
things in state affairs take another bias and
course, are not so much modelled by wit, as
most men imagne. And for the secrets of nature
we have little certain knowledge of them.
524
[SER. XX.
OBSERVATION OF PROVIDENCE,
How short is our life to attain any knowledge
That is an excellent word, Job viii. 8. But
the knowledge here set before us, is the best
kind of knowledge, that of the highest
things, Divine things. I say the best kind
of knowledge of them, for there are notions
even of these things, that have little in
them; either curious, fruitless disputations
of such points as are most removed both
from our notice and our use, or a useless
knowledge of useful things. But this is a
well-regulated and sure-footed knowledge of
Divine things, as God himself hath revealed
them.
This wisdom descends from above ; there-
fore for the attainment of it, these two things
are necessary : 1st, To know that we want
it, sensibly and feelingly to know this, that
we know nothing of the things of God. Mul-
tº ad sapientiam pervenirent, nisi se jamjam
pervénisse arbitrarentur: Many men would
have attained to wisdom, if they had not fan-
cied or imagined that they had already at-
tained it. I speak not now of the lowest
sort, the grossly, the brutishly ignorant even
of the letter of Divine truths, but such as
can give themselves or others, if put to it, a
good account of the principles of faith and
holiness, have read and heard much, and
possibly learned and retained not a little that
way, yet still are but ignorants, strangers to
this heavenly wisdom. Therefore men must
first know this, that they must go anew to
school again, and become as little children.
Wisdom invites no other. Whoso is simple,
Jet him turn in hither. Prov. ix. 4. The
strange woman, and so, all the enticements
to sin, they invite the same persons (ver. 16),
but to a directly opposite end : she calls the
fools to befool them, to drown them in folly
and wretchedness; but wisdom calls them,
to unbefool them, to recover them and teach
them the way of life.
2dly. Being convinced and sensible of the
want of it, to use the right way to attain it,
to give all diligent attendance on the word
and ordinances of God, to desire it of him.
Desire is all : iſ you desire much, you shall
have much. Went thy desire this way heav-
enward, whence this wisdom descends. This
light springs from on high. Man can not
raise himself to it without another. James
i. 5. If any man lack wisdom—if he is but
Once sensible of that, why then the sweetest,
easiest way to attain it than can be desired,
is pointed out—let him ask it of God, who
giveth liberally, and upbraideth not ; does
neither harshly refuse, nor upbraidingly give
it, but delights to give it to them that ask it,
even his own Holy Spirit, the spring of this
wisdom, as he hath promised.
We are all too little in this humble seek-
ing and begging of this Divine knowledge,
and that is the cause we are so shallow and
small proficients. If thou cry, and lift up
thy voice for understanding, if thou search
for it as for hid treasures. Prov. ii. 3. Sit
down upon thy knees and dig for it; that is
the best posture to fall right upon the golden
vein and go deepest to know the mind of
God, in searching the Scriptures, to be di-
rected and regulated in his ways, to be made
skilful in ways of honoring him, and doing
him service. This neither men nor angels
can teach him, but God alone. For the Lord
giveth wisdom. Wer. 6.
Of this wisdom we have here the character
and the privilege.
I. The character: Whoso will observe these
things. . That looks back to the doctrine of
the psalmist, which is very divinely sweet.
He had been extolling the goodness of God in
general, in his dealings with men, and in-
stancing, in divers occurrent and remarkable
particulars, the fitness and mildness of his
chastisements, the seasonableness and sweet-
ness of his deliverances, as correcting us for
our greater good, and relieving usin our great-
est need, when we are nearest despairing of
relief. This is exemplified in travellers and
prisoners, in sick men and seamen, and in the
various disposal of the state of all sorts of
persons, the highest and the meanest; and
the repeated sweet burden of the song is, O
that men would praise the Lord for his good-
ness, and for his wonderful works to the chil-
dren of men / And in the end, he declares
the result of all, ver, 42, the joy of the godly,
the shame and silencing of the wicked, who
usually either mistake, or slight, or despise
the providence of God in the rule of human
affairs, who readily speak big their own
thoughts, which are vain, promising them-
selves continual success. In the end he shall
clear himself, and gladden the souls of his
people, and clothe his enemies with shame.
Wait a while, and thus it shall be ; they shall
change places. He pours, contempt upon
princes, and sets the poor on high from afflic-
tion, and so rights himself and them that
wait on him. Then the righteous shall see it
and rejoice, and all iniquity shall stop her
mouth. And it is a great point of true wis-
dom, rightly to observe these things.
This observing hath in it, first, a believing
notice of these things, to take such instances
aright, when they meet our eye, to know
these things to be indeed the Lord’s doings :
and so, when we are in any present strait, to
believe, accordingly, the same inspection of
his eye, and secret conduct of his hand, to be
in all. Now it is a great point to have the
heart established in these persuasions. We
are generally much defective in this, and
they most who least suspect themselves of
it. But withal, the observing or keeping of
these things (so the word is), this firm be-
lieving, hath in it these two following on it,
and flowing from it, serious contemplation and
suitable action.
1. To observe these things, is often to turn
our eye to the view of these things, and to
keep it on them, so as to have our hearts
warmed with them, to be deeply taken with
PsALM cvii. 43.]
525
OBSERVATION OF PROVIDENCE.
wonder and love. But alas ! our souls are
drowned in flesh, dragged down from things
that become them, and are worthy of them,
to drudge and weary themselves in the mire
and clay. How few are there who make it a
great part of their daily business to behold
God in his works and ways with themselves
and others | Some, in respect of others, are
called great spirits ; but oh, what are they !
What a poor greatness is it to project, for a
great estate, or great places and titles, or to
conceive great revenges of little wrongs |
There is something, even in nature, of great-
ness of spirit, very far beyond the bastard,
false character that most take of it, and that
is above most things others imagine great,
and despise them. But true greatness is this,
to have a mind much taken up with the
greatness of God, admiring and adoring him,
and exciting others to do so; grieved, and ho-
lily angry, that men regard him so little,
breathing forth such wishes as these of the
psalmist, both to express their own thoughts,
and to awake sleeping besotted men about
them : O that men would praise the Lord for
his goodness, &c. They could wish a voice
that could reach many thousands; and if they
had one audible to all the world, would use it
no otherwise than to be precentors of the
praises of God, to call up and begin the song,
O that men would praise, &c.
Consider yourselves, my brethren, and trace
yourselves into your own hearts, whether of.
ten in the day your thoughts run this way,
finding the meditation of God sweet to you,
or whether they do not run out much more to
vain things, and are seldom here: either hur-
ried and busied in a surcharge of affairs, or, if
vacant, yet spinning themselves out in frothy,
foolish fancies, that you would be ashamed to
look back upon. You might entertain Divine
and heavenly thoughts even while about your
earthly employments and refreshments; but
this is little known and little sought after.
Make it your business to learn more of this
wisdom. Call in your hearts, commune often
with yourselves and with God; be less abroad,
and more within, and more above. It is by
far the sweetest life. Beg of God to wind up
your hearts, when you find them heavy and
dull, that they follow you slowly in this, and
need much pulling and hauling from your
hand : a touch from his hand will make them
mount up easily and nimbly. Oh ! seek his
drawing: Draw me, I will run after thee.
And when you meet together, let this be your
business, to speak of Him who alone is to be
exalted, who doth and disposeth all as he
pleases. Say to friends, and kindred, and
neighbors, “Oh, how great and how gracious
a God have we Oh, that we could bless
him ſ”
. 2. To keep these things is to walk accord-
ing to the firm belief and frequent thoughts
of them ; to fear him, and to walk humbly
and warily, because our follies draw on his
rods, and to study to please him, and no mat-
ter who be displeased ; and when he corrects,
to fall down humbly under his hand, who
hath our sickness and health, our life and
death, and all that concerns us, in his abso-
lute power. If anything advance or advan-
tage us before others, endeavor to be the
more lowly and serviceable to him. If in a
low condition, still bless and reverence him,
for his presence will turn the meanest cot-
tage, yea, the darkest dungeon, into a palace.
The chief delight of the saints is, to offer
praises to God, to gather them in from all his
works, to send up to him. And his chief de-
light in all his works is to receive these
praises of them from their hands: they artic-
ulate them, make a reasonable sacrifice of
them. Psalm cylv. 10: All thy works shall
praise thee, and thy saints shall bless, thee.
We are called to this high work, yet lie be-
hind, and most unworthily and foolishly de-
base ourselves in other things. But they that
are wise, if there be any, will mind this, will
not let the Lord's marvellous and gracious
doings pass without notice.
II. The privilege of this wisdom. . It is a
high proof of his love to us, that he loves to
be seen working by us, and stoops to take our
acclamations and approbation, hath such re-
gard to them, and rewards them so richly,
even thus: Whoso is wise, and will observe
these things, they shall understand the loving
kindness of the Lord. Observe, They that are
wise, and observe, shall understand further.
To him that hath, shall be given ; to him that
usefully hath. That is to have, and so it is
there meant; to him that improves it to his
advantage who gave it. The greatest diffi-
culty is to begin: as one said of his growing
rich, that “He came hardly by a little riches,
and easily by great riches.” Having once
got a stock, he grew rich apace. So once
taking, be it but the first lessons of this wis-
dom, learning these well, shall facilitate thy
knowledge exceedingly. The wise increaseth
learning. Prov. i. 5. Wouldst thou but re-
ceive and hearken to the easiest things rep-
resented by God, these would enlighten and
enlarge thy soul to receive more ; especially,
walking by the light thou hast, be it ever so
little, that invites and draws in more. Be
diligent in the practice of what you know, if
you would know more. Believe it, that is
the way to grow. Whoso observes, keeps
these things, acts according to the knowledge
of them (as John vii. 17), he shall understand,
shall understand it by finding it. They shall
understand it in themselves (the word is in
the reciprocal mood, Hithpahel); it shall be
particularly and effectually shown unto them :
they shall experience it, and so understand it,
and that is the only lively understanding of
it. Men may hear, yea, deliver large dis-
courses of it, and yet not understand the thing.
Happy are they to whom this is given | So-
lus docet qui dat, et discit qui recipit : He
alone teaches who gives, and he learns who
receives.
526
[SER. XX.
OBSERVATION OF PROVIDENCE.
Loving kindness. (Heb. graciousness.) All
Sorus of kindnesses, even outward and com-
mon mercies, in those shall he understand his
goodness: in recoveries and deliverances from
dangers, and temporal blessings, be their por-
tion in them less or more, though the things
be common, yet they come to be his own by
a particular stamp of love, which to others
they have not. And the children of God
know it, they can find it out, and can read it,
though the world that looks on it can not.
And indeed, to them, the lowest things are
disposed of, in order to the highest : their
daily bread is given them by that same love
that gives them Christ: all is given in him.
So the curse is taken away, and all is sweet-
ened with a biessing. A little that a righteous
man hath, is better than the abundance of the
wicked.
But the things they chiefly prize and desire,
as indeed they deserve so to be, are of anoth-
er sort : in their very being and nature, are
love-tokens, effects of that peculiar free-grace
that chose them to life. And this is called
the light of God's countenance. His ever-
lasting love. Now they that are wise, and
observe these things, they shall understand
this loving kindness. Not that they first are
thus wise, before they partake of this loving
kindness; no : by it this wisdom was given
them ; but this promise is made to their im-
provement of that gift, and walking in those
ways of wisdom. Not only are they loved of
God, but they shall understand it. He will
manifest himself to them, and tell them he
loves them. And the more they walk in
these ways, the more clearly shall they per-
ceive and powerfully find his love manifested
to them.
This is the highest inducement that can be
to such as have any interest in it. When this
love hath but once touched them, though as
yet they know it not certainly, yet it works
that esteem and affection that nothing can be
admitted into comparison with it. While
carnal men wallow in the puddle, these are
the crystal streams a renewed soul desires to
bathe in, even the love of God. O ! let me
find that ; no matter what I have, or what I
want. In poverty, or any distressed, forsaken
condition, one good word or good look from
him, makes me up. I can sit down content
and cheerful, and rejoice in that, though all
the world frown on me, and all things look
dark and comfortless about me, that is a piece
of heaven within the soul. Now, of this ex-
perimental, understanding knowledge of this
love, there are different degrees; there is a
great latitude in this. To some are afforded,
at some times, little glimpses and inlets of it
in a more immediate way; but these stay
not : Suavis hora, sed brevis mora. Others are
upheld in the belief of it, and live on it by
faith ; though it shine not so clear, yet a light
they have to walk by. Though the sun shines
not bright out to them all their life, yet they
are led home, and understand so much love
in their way, as shall bring them to the ful-
ness of it in the end. Others, having passed
most of the day, have a fair glimpse in the
very evening or close of it. But, howsoever,
they that walk in this way by this light,
whatsoever.measure they have of it, are led
by it to the land of light. The connexion
here made, you see, They that wisely observe
these things, shall understand this loving
kindness. A wise man observing of God’s
ways, and ordering our own to his mind, is
the certain way to attain much experienced
knowledge or his love.
This love is most free, and, from the begin-
ning to the end, works of itself; but in the
method of it, God hath thus linked things to-
gether, made one portion of grace, in the use
of it, draw on another. And this his children
should prudently consider. There is such a
like speech, Ps. l. 23: Whoso offereth praise,
glorifieth me : and to him that ordereth his
conversation aright, will I show the salvation
of God.
The contemplation of God in his works sets
the soul open to receive the influences of this
love: by looking toward him, it draws his
eye toward it, as one look of love draws on an-
other. Certainly many that have some desire
of the light of God’s countenance, and evi-
dences of his love, yet, in not applying their
souls to consider him, do much injure them-
selves.
Heavenly thoughts do refine the soul, as
fire works itself higher and to a purer flame
by stirring. To be blessing God for his good-
ness, giving him praise in the view of his
works in the world, and for his church, and
particularly for ourselves, this both disposes
the heart to a more suitable temper for re-
ceiving Divine comforts, and invites him to
let them flow into it. For if he have such
acknowledgments for general goodness and
common mercies, how much larger returns
shall he have upon the discoveries of special
love | Is it a sight of God as reconciled
thou wouldst have 2 Now, praise sets a man
among the angels, and they behold his face.
Again, action, walking in his ways humbly
and carefully, and so waiting, never wants a
successful return of much love. How can he
who is goodness itself, hide and reserve him-
self from a soul that yields up itself to him,
hath no delight but to please him, hates and
avoids what may offend him 2 This, surely,
is the way, if there is any under heaven, to
enjoy communion with him.
They that forget him, and disregard their
ways, and are no way careful to order them
to his liking, do but delude themselves with
mistaken fancies of mercy. I beseech you,
be warned. There can not be solid peace in
the ways of sin: no peace to the wicked, saith
my God. Outward common favors you may
share for a time ; but these have a curse with
them to you, and you shall quickly be at an
end of these receipts ; and then you would
look toward him for some persuasions of his
PsALM cxix. 96.]
527
IMPERFECTION AND PERFECTION.
loving kindness, but are likely to find nothing
but frowns and displeasure. O ! consider this,
ye that forget God, lest he tear you in pieces,
and there be none to deliver you.
Even they who have some title to this love
of God, and are desiring further evidence of
it, yet do often sit exceedingly in their own
light, and work against their end, still bent
on that assurance they would have, and yet
neglecting the way to it, which certainly is
in a manner to neglect itself. Were they
more busied in honoring God, doing him what
service they can in their station, striving
against sin, acknowledging his goodness to
the world, and even to themselves, that they
are yet in the region of hope, not cut off in
their iniquities, thus offering praise, and or-
dering their conversation aright, submitting
unto him, and giving him glory ; their assur-
ances and comforts, in the measure he thinks
fit, would come in due time, and sooner in this
way than in any other they could take.
Observe these things, beware of sin, and
!ſe shall understand the loving-kindness of the
Lord. It is true, this love of God changes
not, nor hangs on thy carriage, nor on any-
thing without itself; yea, all our good hangs
On it; but know, as to the knowledge and ap-
prehension of it, it depends much on the holy
frame of thy heart and the exact regulation of
thy ways. Sin obstructs and darkens all ;
those are the clouds and mists; and where
any believer is adventurous on the ways of
sin, he shall smart for it. Where sin is, there
will be a storm, as Chrysostom’s word is of
Joshua.” The experience of all witnesseth
this. No strength of faith will keep out floods
of doubting and troublous thoughts, where
any novel sin hath opened a gap for them to
rush in by. See David, Psalm li., expressing
himself as if all were to begin again, his joy
taken away, and his bones broken, and to
sense all undone : nothing will serve but a
new creature. Create in me a clean heart, O
God, and renew a right spirit within me.
There is a congruity in the thing itself, and
God hath so ordered it, that vexation and an-
guish should still attend sin, and the ways of
holiness be ways of peace. Say men what
they will, great falls leave wounds and smart
behind them, and they must be washed with
sharper liquor before balm and oil be poured
into them. And not only will more motorious
breaches disturb thy peace, but a tract of
careless and fruitless walking. If thou abate
of thy attendance on God, and thy fear cool
toward him, lagging and falling downward to
Something you are caring for and taken with,
you shall find an estrangement: it may be in-
sensible at first and for a while because of thy
sloth, that thou dost not observe diligently
how it is with thee; but after a time, it shall
be more easily known, but more hardly mend-
ed. And there are none of us but might find
much more of God in this our way home-
* "Orov šuapria èket xeipov.
ward, if the foolishness and wanderings of our
hearts did not prevent us.
Be persuaded, then, you whose hearts he
hath wrought for himself, to attend better on
him, and the advantage shall be yours, doubt
it not. , And though for a time you find it not,
yet wait on, and go on in that way; it shall
not disappoint you. The more you let go of
the false, vain comforts of the world for his
sake, the more richly you shall be furnished
with his. Oh we make not room for them;
that is the great hinderance. Consider him,
behold his works, bless him, confess him al-
ways worthy of praise for his goodness and
his wonderful works to the children of men,
however he deal with thee in particular ; and
assuredly, he shall deal graciously with thee,
and ere long thou shalt find it, and be forced
to acknowledge it. Though it may be thou
want these bright shinings of comforts thou
wouldst have, yet, looking to him, and walk-
ing before him, observing these things, thou
shalt have of his light to lead thee on, and a
calm within ; sweet peace, not that height of
joy thou desirest.
There are often calm, fair days without
storm, though it be not so clear Sunshine;
and in such days a man may travel comforta-
bly. I would have Christians called off from
a perplexed over-pressing of this point of their
particular assurance. If we were more stu-
dious to please him, forgetting ourselves, we
should find him remember us the more ; yet,
we should not do so for this either, but sim-
ply for himself. In a word, this is thy wis-
dom; mind thy duty, and refer to him thy
comfort.
*-*-
SERMION XXI.
IMPERFECTION AND PERFECTION.
PsALM cxux. 96.
I have seen an end of all perfection ; but thy com-
mandment is exceeding broad.
GRACE is a divine light in the soul, and
shows the true colors of things. The apostle
overshoots not when he says, The spiritual
man judgeth all things. He hath undeniably
the advantage : he may judge of natural
things, but the natural man can not judge of
spiritual things. Yea, the truest judgment
of natural things, in respect to our chiefest
end, springs particularly from spiritual wis-
dom: that makes the true parallel of things,
and gives a just account of their differences,
as here.
I have seen an end, º All that have
any measure of spiritual light, are of this
mind; but certainly, they that are more emi-
nently blessed with it, have a more high and
clearer view of both parts. David, who
is generally, and with greatest likelihood,
supposed to the author of this Psalm, was
528
[SER. XXI.
IMPERFECTION AND PERFECTION.
singularly advantaged to make this judgment
of things. He had, no doubt, a large measure
of the knowledge of God, and of his law,
which here he declares to be so large; and
being both a wise and a great man, might
know more than most others, even of all oth-
er perfections—might trace them to their ut-
most, and see their end, as he expresses it.
This same verdict we have from his son Solo-
mon, after much experience in all things; who,
having the advantage of peace and riches,
did particularly set himself to this work, to a
most exact inquiry after all things of this
earth. He set nature on the rack, to confess
its utmost strength for the delighting and sat-
isfying of man ; with much pains and art, he
extracted the very spirit of all, and after all,
he gives the same judgment we have here ;
his book writ on that subject, being a para-
phrase on this sentence, dilating the sense,
and confirming the truth of it. It carries its
own sum in those two words which begin
and end it ; the one, Vanity of vanities all is
vanity, and the other, Fear God and keep his
commandments, for that is the whole duty of
man. And these here are just the equivalent
of those two; the former of that beginning
word, I have seen an end of all perfection ;
and the latter of that concluding one, But
thy commandment is eaceeding broad.
When mean men speak of this world's
greatness, and poor men cry down riches, it
passes but for a querulous, peevish humor,
to discredit things they can not reach, or else
an ignorant contempt of things they do not
understand; or, taking it a little further, but
a self-pleasing shift, a willingly undervaluing
of those things of purpose to allay the dis-
pleasure of the want of them; or at the best,
if something of truth and goodness be in the
opinion, yet, that the assent of such persons
is (like the temperance of sickly bodies),
rather a virtue made of necessity, than em-
braced of free choice. But to hear a wise
man, in the height of these advantages, pro-
claim their vanity, yea, kings from the very
thrones whereon they sit in their royal robes,
give forth this sentence upon all the glories
and delights about them, is certainly above
all exception. Here are two, the father and
the son ; the one raised from a mean condi-
tion to the crown, instead of a shepherd's
staff, to wield a sceptre, and that, after many
afflictions and dangers in the way to it, which,
to some palates, gives a higher relish and
Sweetness to honor, than if it had slid on
them before they could feel it, in the cheap,
easy way of an undoubted succession. Or, if
any think David's best days a little cloudy,
by the remains of insurrections and opposi-
tions, in that case usual; as the jumbling of
the water is not fully quieted for a while af.
ter the same is over ; then, take the son, suc-
ceeding to as fair a day as heart can wish,
both a complete calm of peace, and a bright
sunshine of riches and regal pomp, and he
able to improve these to the highest. And
yet, both these are perfectly of the same
mind in this great point. The son having
peace and time for it, though a king, would
make his throne a pulpit, and be a preacher
of this one doctrine, to which the fathers sen-
tence is the fittest text I have seen.
The words give an account of a double
prospect; the latter being, as it were, the
discovery of a new world after the travelling
Over the old, expressed in the former clause:
I have seen an end of all perfection, i. e., ta-
ken in an exact view of all other things, and
seen their end ; but thy commandment is of
exceeding extent and perfection, and I see but
a part, and there is no end of it. -
I have seen an end..] I have tried and
made experiment of much of what this world
affords, and the rest I see to the uttermost of
it, how far it reaches. The psalmist, as
standing on a vantage ground, sees clearly
round about him the farthest horizon of earth-
ly excellencies and advantages, and finds
them not to be infinite or unmeasurable;
sees that they are bounded, yea, what their
bounds are, how far they go at their very far-
thest, an end of all, even of perfection. And
this is in effect what I find, that their end
stops short of satisfaction. A man may think
and desire beyond them, yea, not only may,
but must : he can not be terminated by their
bounds, will still have a stretch farther, and
feels them leave him, and then finds a void.
All which he says most ponderously in these
short words, giving the world the slight thus:
It is not so great a matter as men imagine it;
the best of it I have examined, and consider-
ed it to the full, taken the whole dimension :
all the profits and pleasures under the sun,
their utmost goes but a short way; the soul is
vaster than all, can look and go much farther.
I will not attempt the particulars, to reck-
on all, or be large in any : the preacher, Sol-
omon, hath done this matchlessly, and who is
he that can come after the king 2 . If any be
sick of that poor disease, esteem of riches, he
can tell you the utmost of these, that when
they increase, they are increased that eat them,
and what good is to the owners thereof, save
the beholding of them with their eyes 3 Eccl.
v. 11. Yea, locking them up, and not using
them, and still gathering, and all to no use,
this is a madness: it is all one as if they were
still in the mines under the ground, and the
difference none, but in turmoiling pains in
gathering and tormenting care in keeping.
But take the best view of them, Supposing
that they be used, that is, spent on family
and retinue, why then, what hath the owner
but the sight of them for himself 3 Out of all
his dishes, he fills but one belly. Of all his
fair houses and richly-furnished rooms, he
lodges but in one at once. And if his great
rent be needful for his great train, or any
other ways of expense, is it an advantage to
need much 3 Or is he not rather poorer who
needs five or six thousand pounds by year,
than he that needs but one hundred 3
PsALM czix. 96.]
529
IMPERFECTION AND PERFECTION.
Of all the festivities of the world and de-
lights of sense, the result is, laughter is mad;
and mirth, and orchards, and music, these
things pass away as a dream, and are still to
begin again. And so gross and earthly are
they, that for the beasts they may be a fit
good, but for a divine, immortal soul, they
can not. A horse lying at ease in a fat pas-
ture, may be compared with those that take
delight in them.
Honor and esteem are yet vainer than those
pleasures and riches that furnish them.
Though they be nothing but wind, compared
ed to solid soul-delights, yet, as to nature,
there is in them somewhat more real than
in the fame of honor; which is no more, in-
deed, than an airy, imaginary thing, and
hangs more on others than anything else,
and not only on persons above them, but even
those below ; especially that kind which the
vanity of man is much taken with, all popu-
lar opinion, than which there is nothing more
light and poor, and that is more despised by
the elevated sort of natural spirits, a thing as
unworthy as it is inconstant. No slavery
like the affecting of vulgar esteem ; it en-
thrals the mind to all sorts. Often the wor-
thiest share least in it. See Eccl. ix. 11–15.
True worth is but sometimes honored, but al-
ways envied. Eccl. iv. 4, Again, I consider-
ed all travail, and every right work, that for
this a man is envied of his neighbor. , And
with whomsoever it is thou seekest to he es-
teemed, be it with the multitude, or more
chiefly with the wiser and better sort, what a
narrow thing is it at largest How many na-
iºnow neither thee, nor those who know
thee .
Beyond all these things is inward worth,
and even that natural wisdom such as some
minds have to a far more refined height than
others. A man by it sees round about him,
yea, and within himself. That Solomon
grants to be an excellent thing, Eccl. iv., yet
presently finds the end of that perfection, ver.
16. That guards not from disasters and vex-
ations; yea, there is in it an innate grief,
amid so many follies. Eccl. i. 18. In much
wisdom is much grief, and he that increaseth
knowledge, increaseth sorrow. Yea, give a
man the confluence of all these, which is so
rare, make him at once rich, and honorable,
and healthful, and encompassed with all the
delights of nature and art, and wise to make
the best improvement of all they can well
afford (and there is much in that), yet there
is an end of these perfections. For there is
quickly an end of himself who hath them:
he dies, and that spoils all. Death breaks
the strings, and that ends the music. And
the highest of natural wisdom, which is the
soul of all nature's advantages, that ends
them, whether practical or political. In that
day are all state projects and high thoughts
laid low, if speculative. For, in spite of all
sciences and knowledge of nature, a man goes
out in the dark; and if thou art learned in
many languages, one death silences all thy
tongues at once. So says Solomon, Ecel. ii. 16,
And how dieth the wise man Ž as a fool. Yea,
suppose a man were not broken off, but contin-
ued still in the top of all these perfections; yea,
imagine much more, the chiefest delights of
sense that have ever been found out, more
solid and certain knowledge of nature's se-
crets, all moral composure of spirit, the high-
est dominion, not only over men, but a depu-
ted command over nature's frame, the course
of all the heavens, and the affairs of all the
earth, and that he was to abide in this es-
tate; yet would he see an end of this per-
fection, that is, it would come short of ma-
king him happy. It is a union with a
Higher Good by that love that subjects, all
things to him, that alone is the endless
perſection: Thy commandment is exceeding
broad.
You may think this a beaten subject, and
possibly, that some other cases or questions
were fitter for Christians. I wish it were
more needless. But, oh, the deceitfulness of
our hearts | Even such as have shut out the
vanities of this world at the fore-gate, let
them in again, or some part of them at least,
at the postern. Few hearts clearly come off
untied from all, but are still lagging after
somewhat ; and thence so little delight in
God, in prayer and holy things. And though
there be no fixed esteem of other things, yet
that indisposition to holy ways, argues some
sickly humor latent in the soul; and there-
fore this is almost generally needful, that
men be called to consider what they seek af.
ter. Amid all thy pursuits, stop and ask thy
soul, For what end is all this? At what do
I aim 2 For surely, by men's heat in these
lower things, and their cold indifference for
heaven, it would seem we take our portion to
be here. But, oh, miserable portion at the
best Oh short-lived happiness! Look On:
them and learn to see this, the end of all per-
fections, and to have an eye beyond them;
till your hearts be well weaned from all
things under the sun. Oh! there is little ac-
quaintance with the things that are above it,
Iittle love of them, still some pretensions,
some hopes that flatter us—“I will attain
this or that; and then”—Then what? What
if this night, thou fool, thy soul shall be re-
quired of thee 3
But thy commandment.] The former part of
this sentence hath within every man’s breast
somewhat to suit with it and own it. Readi-
ly, each man according to his experience and
the capacity of his soul, hath his sense, if
awake, of the unsatisfactoriness of all this
world. Give him what thou wilt, yet, still
there is empty room within, and a pain in
that emptiness, and so, vexation, a torment-
ing windiness in all. And men of more con-
templative minds have higher and clearer
thoughts of this argument and matter, and
may rise to a very high moral contempt of
the world; and some of them have done so.
67
530
|SER. XXI.
IMPERFECTION AND PERFECTION.
But this other part is more sublime, and pe-
culiar to a divine illumination. That which
we find not without, we would have within,
and would work out of ourselves what can
not be extracted from things about us. Phi-
losophy is much set on this, but it is upon a
false scent, and so still deluded. No, it is with-
out us; not within us, but above us. That
fulness is in God, and there is no communion
with him, or enjoyment of him, but in the
way of his commandment. Therefore, this is
the discovery that answers and satisfies, Thy
commandment is eaceeding broad.
Commandment.] He speaks of all as one,
I conceive, for that tie and connexion of them
all, on account of which he that breaks one,
is guilty of all. A rule they are, and are so
one, as a rule must be. One authority runs
through all: that is the golden thread they
are strung on. Break that anywhere, and all
the pearls drop off. Psalm crix. 6: Then
shall I not be ashamed, when I have respect
to all thy commandments. Otherwise one
piece shames another, like uneven and incon-
gruous ways. The legs of the lame not be-
ing even, make an unseemly going. And as
it is here, so a plural word is joined with the
singular, ver. 137, and Psalm crxxii.” And
it is fitly here spoken of as one opposed to all
varieties and multitudes of things beside. Thy
commandment, each linked to one another,
and that one chain reaches beyond all the in-
coherent perfections in the world, if one were
added to another, and drawn to a length.
This commandment is eaceeding broad ; the
very breadth immense, and thereſore the
length must be much more so, no end of it.
That good to which it leads and joins the
soul, is enough for it: it is complete and full
in its nature, and endless in its continuance,
so that there is no measuring, no end of it
any way. . But all other perfections have
their bounds of being, and period of duration,
so that each way an end is to be found of
them. Now, in this, the opposition is the
more admirable, that he speaks not expressly
of the enjoyment of God, but of the com-
mandment of God : he extols that above all
the perfections of the world. Which is much
to be remarked, as having in it a clear char-
acter of the purest and highest love. It had
been more obvious to all, had he said, I have
seen the utmost of all besides thee, but thou,
O God, the light of thy countenance, the
blessed vision of thy ſace, that alone is bound-
łess and endless happiness. Or, to have ta-
ken it below the full perfect enjoyment of
glory, but some glances let into the soul here,
a comfortable word from God, a look of love,
oh, how far surpassing all the continued ca-
resses and delights of the world! He speaks
* Deum tradunt Hebraei, ună voce, eloquio uno, hoc
est, uno spiritu, et halitu, sine ullá interspiratione,
morå, pausã, wel distinctione, ita ut omnia verba, tan.
quam verbum unum, et vox, una, fuerant, elocutum.
Atque hinc volunt duplicem illam accentuum rationem
in Decalogo ortam, ut altera una, illa Dei continuata
elocutio, altera hominum tarda et distincta, judicetur.
not of that neither, but Thy commandment is
eaceeding broad. As the apostle says, The
foolishness of God is wiser than man's wis-
dom, 1 Cor. i. 25, so here, that of God which
seems lowest and hardest, is infinitely beyond
whatsoever is highest and sweetest in the
world. The obeying of his commands, his
very service, is more profitable than the
world's rewards; his commands more excel-
lent that the perfection of the world’s enjoy-
ments. To be subject to him, is truer happi-
ness than to command the whole world.
Pure love reckons thus: Though no further
reward were to follow obedience to God, the
perfection of his creature and its very happi-
ness, carries its full recompense in it own bo-
som. Yea, love delights most in the hardest
services. It is self-love, to love the embra-
ces and rest of love; but it is love to him in-
deed to love the love the labor of love, and
the service of it, and that, not so much be-
cause it leads to rest, and ends in it, but be-
cause it is service to him whom we love.
Yea, that labor is itself a rest, it is so natural
and sweet to a soul that loves. As the revo-
lution of the heavens, which is a motion in
rest, and rest in motion, changes not place,
though running still ; so, the motion of love
is truly heavenly, and circular still in God,
beginning in him, and ending in him, and so,
not ending, but still moving without weari-
IlêSS.
Let us see what the commandment is, and
that will chear it, for it is nothing but love.
All is in that one, Thou shalt love the Lord
thy God with all thy heart, &c. So, the com-
mand that is here called so broad, is love.
There is no measuring that, for its object is
immeasurable. We readily exceed in the
love of any other thing ; but in the love of
God there is no danger of exceeding. Its
true measure is, to know no measure.
According as the love is, so is the soul: it
is made like to, yea, it is made one with,
that which it loves. Si terram amas, terra
es: si Deum amas, quid vis ut dicam, Deus
es 2 [AUGUSTINE.] By loving gross, base
things, it becomes gross, and turns to flesh,
or earth ; and so, by the love of God, it is
made divine, is one with him. So this is the
excellency of the command enjoining love.
God hath a good-will to all his creatures;
but that he should make a creature capable
of loving him, and appoint this for his com-
mand, oh! herein his goodness shines bright-
est. Now, though fallen from this, we are
again invited to it; though degenerated and
accursed in our sinful nature, yet We are re-
newed in Christ, and this command is re-
newed in him, and a new way of fulfilling it
is pointed out.
This command is broad. There is room
enough for the soul in God, that is hampered
and pinched in all other things. Here, love
with all thy heart, with all thy soul, with all
thy mind, and with all thy strength. Stretch
it to the utmost ; there is enough for it here,
HAB. iii. 17, 18.]
531
CONFIDENCE OF FAITH.
while it must contract and draw itself to oth-
er things. ... I will walk at liberty, says David,
for I seek thy precepts. That which per-
verse nature judges thraldom, once truly
known, is only freedom. This is because the
law is love, and such a love as brings full
content to the soul. Man hath not an object
of love besides God; too many he hath that
can torment and trouble him, but not one that
by being loved by him, satisfies and quiets
him. Whether he loves things without him,
or himself, still he is pained and restless. All
other things he loves naturally, in reference
to himself: but himself is not a sufficient ob-
ject for him. It must be something that adds
to, and perfects his nature, to which he must
be united in love: somewhat higher than
himself, yea, the highest of all, the Father
of Spirits. That alone completes a spirit and
blesses it, to love him, the spring of spirits.
Now this love, as including obedience to
his commands, is a thing in itself due and
expressly commanded too. This is the thing
which surpasseth all pursuits and all enjoy-
ments under heaven, not only to be loved of
God, but to love him. Yea, could these be
severed, this rather would be the deformity
and misery of the creature, to hate him : this
is the hell of hell.
And to love him, not only with complacen-
cy, a desire to enjoy him, but, moreover, wish-
ing him glory, doing him service, desiring he
may be honored by all his creatures, and en-
deavoring ourselves to honor him, that is our
work; applauding the praises of angels and
all creatures, and adding our (as Psalm ciii.
22) sweet, willing, entire submission to his
will, ready to do, to suffer anything for him.
Oh away all base, muddy pleasures, all
false night-shows of earthly glories, all high
attempts and heroic virtues | These have
their measure and their close, and prove in
the end but lies. This command, this love
alone, is the endless perfection and delight of
souls, which begins here, and is completed
above. The happiness of glory is the perfec-
tion of holiness: that is the full beauty and
loveliness of the Spouse, the Lamb's wife.
Oh! how much are the multitudes of men
to be pitied, who are hunting they know not
what, still pursuing content, and it still fly-
ing before, and they at as great a distance as
when they promised themselves to lay hold
on it ! It is strange what men are doing.
Ephraim feedeth on the wind. Hos. xii. 1.
The most serious designs of men are more
foolish than the play of children; all the dif-
ference is, that these are tristes ineptide,
Sourer and more sad trifles.
Oh, that ye would turn this way, and not
still lay out your money for that which is not
bread ' You would find the saddest part of
a spiritual course of life hath under it more
true sweetness than all your empty mirths,
which sound much, and are nothing, like the
crackling of thorns under the pot. There is
more joy in enduring a cross for God, than in
the smiles of the world; in a private, de-
spised affliction, without the name of suffering
for his cause, or anything it like martyrdom,
but only as coming from his hand, kissing it,
and bearing it patiently, yea, gladly for his
sake, out of love to him because it is his will
so to try thee. What can come amiss to a
soul thus composed ?
I wish that they who have renounced the
vain world, and have the face of their hearts
turned Godward, would learn more this hap-
py life and enjoy it more, not to hang so much
upon sensible comforts, as to delight in obe-
dience, and to wait for those at his pleasure,
whether he gives much or little, any or none.
Learn to be still finding the sweetness of his
commands, which no outward or inward
change can disrelish, rejoicing in the actings
of that Divine love within thee. Continue
thy conflicts with sin, and though thou mayest
at times be foiled, yet, cry to him for help,
and getting up, redouble thy hatred of it and
attempts against it. Still stir this flame of
God. That will overcome: Many waters can
not quench it. It is a renewed pleasure, to be
offering up thyself every day to God. Oh
the sweetest life in the world, is, to be cros-
sing thyself, to please him ; trampling on thy
own will, to follow his.
SERMON XXII.
CONFIDENCE OF FAITH.
HABAKKUK iii. 17, 18.
Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall
fruit be in the vine ; the labor of the olive shall fail,
and the fields shall yield no meat; the flocks shall
be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd
in the stalls:
Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God
of my salvation.
Most men's industries and employments are
chiefly without them, but certainly our main
and worthiest business lies within us; nor is
ever a man fit for the varieties and vicissitudes
of time and affairs without, till he have taken
some pains to some good purpose within him-
self. A distempered, discomposed mind is
as a limb out of joint, which is fit for no ac-
tion, and moves both deformedly and pain-
fully. That which we have to do, my breth-
ren, for which these our meetings are com-
manded of God, and should be attended by us,
and which we should follow out when we
are gone hence, is this, the reducing of our
souls to God. Their disunion from him is
their disjointing, and they are never right till
they refix on him ; and being there, they are
so right, that nothing can come wrong to
them. As they are not readily ensnared with
ease and plenty, so, neither are they lightly
astonished with want and trouble, but, in the
ebb of all other comforts, they can hold the
prophet's purpose, to joy in the Lord, and
rejoice in the Gad of tº: salvation. f
532
[SER. XXII.
CONFIDENCE OF FAITH.
This, we may hear and speak of, but truly,
few attain it. I fear, many of us are not so
much as seeking after it and aspiring to it. A
soul really conversant with God, is taken up
with him, all its affections work and move
toward him, as the prophet's here; his fear,
his joy, his trust, ver. 16–19. This is a prayer,
as it is entitled, but it is both a prophetical
and an unusual one ; a prophecy and a song
(as the word added imports) of Habakkuk the
prophet on Neginoth. The strain of it is high,
and full of sudden raptures and changes, as
that word signifies ; as here, having express-
ed much fear in the foregoing words, a shiver-
ing, trembling horror, he yet adds such a
height of an invincible kind of joy—like the
needle of the compass, fixedly looking toward
him, yet, not without a trembling motion.
Thus, we have the temper of the psalmist,
Psalm ii. 11: Rejoice with trembling. Which
suits well to so sublime an object; joying in
God, because he is good, yet with joy still
mixed with holy awe, because he is great.
And this especially in a time of great judg-
ments, or in the lively apprehensions or repre-
sentations of them, whether before or after
their inflicting; whether they be on the people
of God for their iniquities, or on the enemies
of God for their oppressions and cruelties to
his people while he made them instruments
for their correction. In both, God is formid-
able, and greatly to be feared, even by those
that are nearest to him. This we find in the
prophets when seeing judgments afar off, long
before their day, which they had commission
to denounce. So, this prophet here not only
discovers great awe and fear at what he saw
and foretold concerning God’s own people, the
Jews, but at the after-reckoning with the
Chaldeans, his and their enemies. When
God comes to do judgment on the wicked,
this will make them who stand by and suffer
not with them, yet to tremble; yea, such as
are advantaged by it, as usually the people
of God are, their enemies' ruin proving their
deliverance. The majesty and greatness of
God, and the terribleness of his march toward
them and seizing on them, as it is here highly
set forth, this works an awful fear in the hearts
of his own children. They can not see their
Father angry but it makes them quake, though
it be not against them, but on their behalf.
And this were our right temper, when we
see or hear of the hand of God against wicked
men, who run their own courses against all
warning :-not to entertain these things with
carnal rejoicings and lightness of mind, or
with boasting insults; to applaud indeed the
righteousness of God, and to give him his
glory, but withal, to fear before him, though
they were strangers and no way a part of
ourselves, and to have an humble sense of the
Lord's dealing in it; so, Psalm lii. 6; and to
learn to reverence God ; in all our ways to
acknowledge him ; to be sure to take him
along with us, and to undertake nothing with-
out him.
And this fear of judgments falling upon
others, is the way not to feel them on our-
selves. When God sees that the sound of the
rod On others' backs will humble a soul or a
people, he will spare the stroke of it. They
who have most of this holy fear of God's
anger, fall least under the dint of it. Blessed is
he that feareth always ; but he that hardens his
heart, shall fall into mischief. Prov. xxviii. 14.
He that fears it not, shall fall into it; he that
fears and trembles at it, shall escape. So the
prophet here trusts for himself: ver, 16: I
trembled in myself, that I might rest in the
day of trouble, and upon this confidence, he
rises to this high resolution, Yet I will rejoice
in the Lord.
The words, to make no other division of
them, are a conjuncture of a sad supposition,
and a cheerful position, or purpose.
Although the fig-tree shall not blossom.]
This is a thing that may come, and, possibly,
which the prophet did foresee would come,
among other judgments; and it is of all other
outward scourges the sorest, most Smarting,
and most sweeping ; cuts off most people,
and can least be suffered and shifted. It lieth
among the rest in the storehouse of Divine
judgments. He who furnished the earth, and
gave being by the word of his mouth to all
these things, hath still the sole, absolute
power of them : they obey his word of com-
mand, and, rightly looked upon, in our use
of them, and the sweetness we find in them,
lead us to him as the spring of being and
goodness. He is invisible in his nature ; in
his works, most visible and legible. Not only
the spacious heavens and the glorious lights
in them, but the meanest things on earth,
every plant and flower in their being and
growing, yea, every pile of grass, declare God
to ti S.
And it is a supernatural light in natural
things to see and taste him in them. It is
more pleasant than their natural relish ; it is
the chief inner sweetness, the kernel and
marrow of all ; and they that take not the
pains, and have not the skill to draw it forth,
lose the far better half of their enjoyments,
even of the things of this earth. To think,
how wise he is who devised such a frame,
how powerful he who made all these things,
how rich he must be who still continues to
furnish the earth with these varieties of pro-
visions, how sweet must he be, whence all
these things draw their sweetness! But, alas!
we are brutish, and in our use of these things,
we differ little or nothing from the beast. We
are called to a higher life, but we live it not.
Man is in honor, but he understands it. 7.0% :
he is as the beast that perishes. Psalm xlix. 20.
Now, because we acknowledge God so little
in the use of these things, therefore he is put
to it (so to speak) to teach us our lesson in the
want and deprivenent of them, which our
dulness is more sensible of. We know things
a great'deal better by wanting them, than by
having them, and take more notice of that
HAB. iii. 17, 18.]
533
CONFIDENCE OF FAITH.
hand which hath power of them, when he
withdraws, than when he bestows them.
Besides all other provocations, and particu-
lar abuses of these things by intemperance
and luxury, were it no more than the very
neglecting of God in his goodness, this calls
for a famine, to diet us into wiser thoughts,
and to remind us of our own and all other
creatures’ dependance on that God whom we
so forget, as to serve our idols and lusts upon
his bounty. This was the case of Judah and
Israel. See Hos. ii. 8–13. But when more
sparingly fed, and better taught, in the wilder-
ness, those mercies were restored again, and
then, all acknowledged the dowry of that
blessed marriage with himself, which is so
far beyond all account. Wer. 14–16.
How wretched ingratitude is it, not to re-
gard and love him in the use of all his mer-
cies | But it is horrid stupidity, not to con-
sider and seek to him in their withdrawment,
or in the threatening of it. Few have a right
sense of his hand in anything. They grumble
and cry out, but not to him. As in the case
of oppression, it is said, Job xxxv. 9, 10, By
reason of the multitude of oppressions, they
make the oppressed to cry : they cry out by
reason of the arm of the mighty, but none
sayeth, Where is God my maker 2—so, of this
very judgment of famine, the prophet speaks,
Hos. vii. 14: And they have not cried unto me
with their hearts, when they howled upon their
beds: they assembled themselves for corn and
wine, and they rebel against me. They did
not humbly and repentingly seek to God by
prayer, but a natural brutish sense of their
wants pressed out complaints; they howled
as a hungry dog would do for bread. This is
all the most do, in years of dearth, or harvests
threatening it. No beast in the mountain or
wilderness is so untamed as the heart of man,
which, when catched in God's judgments, lies
and cries as a wild bull in a net. It is true,
they are somewhat nearer sober thoughts in
distress; and their grief though merely natu-
ral, yet is nearer spiritual grief, than their
mirth and laughter ; but it must have a touch
of that Spirit above, to make it spiritual, to
made it change to gold, to turn it to godly
sorrow. No scourge carries a power of chang-
ing the heart with it; that is a superadded
work. Many people, and particular persons,
have been beat as in a mortar with variety
of afflictions, one coming thick upon another,
and yet, are never the wiser, and yet, have
not returned unto me, saith the Lord.
Therefore, if you be afflicted, join prayer
with your correction, and beg by it, that God
would join his Spirit with it. Seek this in
earnest, else you shall be not a whit the bet-
ter, but shall still endure the smart, and not
reap the fruit thereof. Yea, I believe, some
are the worse, even by falsely imagining they
are better, partly presuming it must be so,
and partly, may be, feeling some present mo-
tions and meltings in the time of afflictions,
which evanish and presently cool when they
are off the fire. Ay, but these two together
make a happy man; Blessed is he whom thou
correctest, and teachest out of thy law. Psalm
xciv. 12.
Although the fig-tree shall not blossom.]
This sometimes does, and at any time may,
befall a land ; but, however, it is very useful
to put such cases. It is true, there is great
odds between real and imagined distresses;
yet, certainly, the frequent viewing of its
picture, though it is only in the imagination,
hath so much likeness as somewhat abates
the strangeness and frightfulness of its true
visage when it comes.
There is a foolish pre-apprehension of possi-
ble evils, which, whether they come or not,
does no good, but makes evils to come per-
plexingly beforehand, and antedates their
misery, and adds the pain of many others
that will never come. These are the fumes
of a dark, distempered humor, vain fears,
which vex and trouble some minds at present,
and do not waste anything of any grief to
come after. But calmly and composedly to
sit down and consider evil days coming, any
kind of trials that probably, yea, or possibly,
may arrive, so as to be ready to entertain
them without astonishment: this is a wise
and useful exercise of the mind, and takes off
much of the weight of such things, breaks
them in falling on us, that they come not so
sad down, when they light first upon the appre-
hension. Thus, it is true, nothing comes un-
awares to a wise man. He hath supposed all,
or as bad as anything that can come, hath ac-
quainted his mind with the horridest shapes,
and, therefore, when such things appear, will
not so readily start at them.
This I would advise to be done, not only in
things we can more easily suffer, but in those
we think would prove hardest and most indi-
gestible, to inure thy heart to them ; not to
be like some, who are so tender-fancied, that
they dare not so much as think of some things,
the death of a dear friend, or husband, or wife,
or child. That is oftener to be viewed, ra-
ther than any other event. Bring thy mind
to it, as a starting-horse to that whereat it
does most startle—“What if I should be be-
reft of such a person, such a thing ?” This
would make it much more tolerable when
thou art put to it. “What if the place where
I live, were visited with all at once in some
degree, pestilence, and sword, and famine !
How should I look on them ż Could my mind
keep its own place and standing, fixed on God
in such a case? What if I were turned out
of my good furniture and warm house, and
stripped not only of accessory, but necessary
things” (as here he supposes not only the fail-
ing of delicacies, the fig-tree, wine, and ol-
ives, but of common necessary food, the fields
not yielding meat, and the flocks cut off);
thy little ones crying for bread, and thou hast
none for them 2 You little know what the
tenderest and delicatest among you may be
put to. These times have given many real
b34
[SER. XXII.
CONFIDENCE OF FAITH.
instances, within these kingdoms, of strange
changes in the condition of all ranks of per-
sons. Or think, if thou abhorrest that, “What
if I were smitten with blotches or loathsome
Sores on my flesh, or if, by any accident, I
should lose an arm, or an eye, or both eyes?
What if extreme poverty, and sickness, and
forsaking of friends come all at once 2 Could
I welcome these, and make up all in God—
find riches, and friends, and fulness in him 2"
Most men, if they would speak truly to such
a case, must declare them insufferable : “I
were undone if such a thing befell me, or such
a comfort were taken from me.” Most would
cry out, as Micah did, Judges xviii. 24: Ye
have taken away my gods; for so are these
things our hearts cleave to and principally de-
light in. He that worships mammon, his
purse is the sensiblest piece of him : he is
broke, if fire, or ravage of war, throw him
out of his nest, and empty it. He that makes
his belly his god (such they are the apostle
speaks of, Phil. iii. 19), how could he endure
this case the prophet puts here, the failing of
vines, of flocks and herds 2
It were good to add to the supposition of
want, somewhat of the reality of it; some-
times to abridge thyself of things thou de-
sirest and lovest, to inure thy appetite to a
refusal of what it calls for ; to practise some-
what of poverty, to learn to need few things.
It is strange, men should be so foolish as
to tie themselves to these things, which have
neither satisfying content in them, nor cer-
tain abode. And why shouldst thou set thine
eyes on things which are not 2 says Solomon,
Proverbs xxiii. 5—a nonens, a fancy 2 How
Soon may you be parted . He who is the true
God, God alone, how soon can he pull the
false gods from you, or you from them —as
in that word, Job xxvii. 8: What is the hope
of the hypocrite, though he hath gained, when
God taketh away his soul ? Like that case in
the parable, Luke xii. 19: Soul, take thine
ease. A strange inference from full barns !
That were sufficient provision for a horse, a
fit happiness for it; but for a soul, though it
were to stay, how gross and base a portion
But it can not stay neither: This night thy
soul shall be required of thee.
The only firm position is that of the proph-
et, Yet will I rejoice in the Lord. And such
times indeed are fit to give proof of this, to
tell thee whether it be so indeed, where thy
heart is built. While thy honor, and wealth,
and friends, are about thee, it is hard to know
whether these props bear thee up, or anoth-
er, an Invisible supporter; but when these
are plucked away, and thou art destitute round
about, then it will appear if thy strength be in
God, if these other things were but flourishes
about thee, and thou laidst no weight on them
at all. He that leans on these, must fall when
these fall, and his hope is cut off, and his trust
as a spider's web. He shall lean upon his
house, but it shall not stand. Job viii. 14, 15.
They that clasp their hearts about their
houses or estates, within a while they are ei-
ther sadly pulled asunder, or swept away to-
gether.
But, oh the blessed, the high condition of
a soul set on God, untied, independent from
all things beside him, its whole dependance
and rest placed on him alone, sitting loose to
all the world, and so not stirred with altera-
tions ! Yea, amid the turnings upside-down
of human things, if the frame of the heaven
and earth were falling to pieces,” the heart
founded on him who made it, abides unmoved;
the everlasting arms are under it, and bear it
up.
Do ye believe, my brethren, that there is
such a thing, that it is no fancy 2 Yea, all is
but fancy beside it. Do you believe this 2
Why, then, is one day after another put off,
and this not attained, nor the soul so much as
entered or engaged to a serious endeavor after
it, looking on all things else, compared to
this noble design, as vanity ? How often, and
how easily are their joys damped, who rejoice
in other things, and their hopes broken
What they expected most, soon proves a lie,
as the word spoken of the olive here signifies;
as if the labor of it should lie (spem mentita
seges)—a fair vintage or harvest promised,
and either withered with drought, or drowned
with rain ; indeed, it lies at the best But the
soul that places its joy on God, is still fresh
and green when all are withered about it.
Jer. xvii. 8: Acquaint thyself with him be-
times in ease. It is a sad case, to be making
acquaintance with him, when thou shouldst
most make use of his friendship, and find
comfort in his love.
Now this joy in God can not remain in an
impure, unholy soul, no more than heaven
and hell can mix together. An impure, un-
holy soul, I call not that which is stained
with sin, for no other are under the sun ; all
must then quit all pretensions to that estate ;
but such a one as willingly entertains any sin-
ful lust or way of wickedness. That delight
and this are directly opposite, And certainly
the more the soul is refined from all delights
of sin, yea, even from sinless delights of sense
and of this present world, it hath the more
capacity, the fitter and the larger room, for
this pure, heavenly delight.
No language can make a natural man un-
derstand what this thing is, to rejoice in God.
Oh,' it is a mystery. . Most men mind poor
childish things, laughing and crying in a
breath, at trifles; easily puffed up, and as ea-
sily cast down. But even the children of
Gód are too little acquainted with this their
portion. Which of you find this power in the
remembrance of God, that it doth overflow
and drown all other things, both your worldly
joys and worldly sorrows, that you find them
not ? And thus it would be, if we knew him.
Is he, then, our Father, and yet we know
him not ?
Although all should fail, yet, rejoice in him
* Si fractus illibatur orbis.
1 CoR. i. 30.]
SUMMARY OF SPIRITUAL PRIWILEGES.
who fails not, who alters not. He is still the
same in himself, and to the sense of the soul
that is knit to him, is then sweetest when the
world is bitterest. When other comforts are
withdrawn, the loss of them brings this great
gain, so much the more of God and his love
imparted, to make all up. They that ever
found this, could almost wish for things that.
others are afraid of. If we knew how to im-
prove them, his sharpest visits would be his
Sweetest; thou wouldst be glad to catch a
kiss of his hand while he is beating thee, or
pulling away something from thee that thou
lovest, and bless him while he is doing so.
Rejoice in God, although the fig-tree blos-
som not, &c. Yea, rejoice in these hardest
things, as his doing. A heart rejoicing in
him, delights in all his will, and is surely
provided for the most firm joy in all estates;
for if nothing can come to pass beside, or
against his will, then can not that soul be
Vexed with delights in him, and hath no will
but his, but follows him in all times, in all
estates, not only when he shines bright on
them, but when they are clouded. That
flower which follows the sun, doth so even in
cioudy days: when it doth not shine forth,
yet it follows the hidden course and motion
of it. So, the soul that moves after God,
keeps that course when he hides his face; is
content, yea, is glad at his will in all estates,
or conditions, or events. And though not only
all be withered and blasted without, but the
face of the soul little better within to sense,
no flourishing of graces for the present, yet it
rejoices in him, and in that everlasting cove-
nant that still holds, ordered in all things
and sure, as the sweet singer of Israel sweetly
expresses it, 2 Sam. xxiii. 5: For this, says
he, is all my salvation and all my desire, AL-
THOUGH he make it not to grow. That is a
strange although, and yet is he satisfied even
in that.
This joy in God, as my God, the God of
my salvation, ought to exercise the soul in
the darkest and worst times; and it ought to
stiek to it, not to let go this confidence, still
expecting salvation from him, and resting on
him for it, though not having those senses
and assurances that thou desirest. This, weak
believers are easily beaten from, by tempta-
tion. But we are to stand to our right in him,
even when we see it not. And when it is
said to thee, as in Psalm iii., that there
is no help for thee in God, tell all that say
so, they lie: He is my God, my glory, and
the lifter-up of my head, as there he speaks.
Rejoice in him still as thy God; and how-
ever, rejoice in him as GOD. I will rejoice in
Jehovah, glad that he is God, that his enemies
can not unsettle nor reach his throne, that he
rules, and is glorious in all things, that he is
self-blessed, and needs nothing. This is the
purest and highest kind of rejoicing in him,
and is certainly most distant and most free
from alteration, and hath, indeed, most of
heaven in it.
SERMON XXIII.
SPIRITUAL PRIVILEGES.
1 CoR. i. 30.
But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is
made unto us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification,
and redemption.
THE great design of the gospel is, to bring
men to Jesus Christ; and, next to that, to in-
struct those who are brought to him, in the
clearest knowledge, and to keep them in the
fresh remembrance of the privileges and hap-
piness they have in him. This the apostles,
Writing to new converts, much insist upon,
and Paul most abundantly : but nowhere
more excellently and fully than in these
words. Ö
As that is a great and much commended
Oracle, Yvá9, acañrov, Know thyself, so, also,
there can be nothing more comfortable and
profitable for a Christian than this point, to
understand his new being, to know himself
as out of himself in Christ, to study what he
is there. Oh what joy, what humility, what
holiness would it work, were we well seen
and much conversant in this subject, viewing
ourselves in this light, as here the apostle rep.
resents a believer to himself, Of him are ye in
Christ Jesus, &c.
If we look back a little, we see his aim is,
to vindicate the doctrine of Christ from con-
tempt in that chief point which is the believ-
er's greatest comfort and glory, yet lies open-
est to the world's misprison, the doctrine of
the cross, Christ crucified. Him we preach,
says he, let men take it as they please: be he
a stumbling-block to the Jews, and foolishness
to the Gentiles, yet, to them that believe among
both, he is the power of God, and the wisdom
of God.
As, in the person of Christ, glory was
wrapped up in meanness, so it was in his suf-
ferings and death. And in the doctrine of it,
and in the way of preaching of it, they are not
dressed with human wisdom, or eacellency of
speech : this would be as incongruous as that
rich, gaudy attire they cover the image of the
Virgin with, and her Child lying in a stable.
And that all might be suitable, so is it in the
persons of those that believe on him. Breth-
ren, you see your calling, how that not many
wise men after the flesh, not many mighty,
not many noble, are called. And God’s pur-
pose in this, is, that no flesh should glory be-
fore him.
This is the grand disease of flesh, to swell
in conceit of any little advantages, real or im-
agined, forgetting itself and him from whom
it receives all, receives its very self, the being
it hath, and all superadded good. Now, God
is pleased, in justice on some, and in great
mercy to others, so to order most things in
the world, as to allay this tumor ; often bring-
ing down high things, and raising the low,
and so attempering and levelling disparities
536
[SER. XXIlſ.
SUMMARY OF SPIRITUAL PRIVILEGES.
as to take men off from self-glorying. Proud
undertakings, we see, are commonly most
disgracefully broken. Nor is there any surer
passage of the speedy ruin of any affairs or
persons, than presumptuous boasting. This
is God's work among men, as even natural
men have observed, to abase high things, to
exalt low things. He goes from one thing to
another, pulling down the crest and blasting
the glory of all human excellency, breaking
the likeliest projects, and effecting what is
least to be expected, withdrawing man from
his purpose, to hide pride from his eyes, as
Elihu speaks, Job xxxiii. 17. To this pur-
pose, see Job X. 11, 12; 1 Sam. ii. 4, 5; and
the Virgin in her song, Luke i. 51. Whatso-
ever men bear themselves big upon, and be-
gin to glory in, they call the hand of God to
crush it, rºising an idol of jealousy in his
sight. All high things have their day: The
day of the Lord shall be on all the cedars of
Lebanon, and he alone ea alted. Isa. ii. 13, 17.
If ever this was the case in any time, we may
See it is legible in ours, in great letters. This
is the very, result of his ways, staining the
pride of all glory, defeating witty counsels,
making counsellors mad, throwing down all
plumes and trampling them in the mire, that
no party or persons in the kingdom can set
out for any triumph of courage, or wit, or any
other excellency, but somewhat shall be clear-
ly seen to meet and dash it in pieces, that no
jlesh may glory before him. And this, to
souls that love God, is the main happiness of
the times, and that whereig they will chiefly
rejoice.
The particular here spoken of, is eminent-
ly suited to this end, the choice and calling
of persons to the dignity of Christians: Not
many wise, not many mighty, or noble, but
the mean things, the foolish things, and the
most insignificant, things that are not, non-
entia, very nothings, to annul things that
seem most to be something. Thus it was in
the first times; and though afterward, by
means of these meaner persons, greater were
caught and drawn into Christ, philosophers
and kings, yet still it remains true in all
times, that predominantly the choice is of the
meaner sort; God testifying how little he es-
teems those things which men account great.
Those endowments of wit and eloquence
which men admire in some, alas! how poor
are they to him he respecteth not any who
are wise in heart: they are nothing, and less
than nothing in his eyes. He is the author
of all these. Will he esteem thy riches 2 No,
not gold, nor all the forces of strength. Job
xxxvi. 19. Even wise men admire how little
It is that men know, how small a matter lies
under the sound of those popular wonders, a
learned man, a great scholar, a great states-
man: how much more doth the all-wise God
meanly account of these ' He often discov-
ers, even to the world, their meanness; he
befools them. So valor, or birth, or worldly
greatness, these he gives, and gives as things
he makes no great reckoning of, to such as
shall never see his face; and calls to the in-
heritance of glory poor despised creatures
who are looked on as the offscourings and
refuse of the world : these are raised from the
dunghill, and set with princes, made the sons
and daughters of God, entitled each of them
to a crown that fades not. Oh the wonder
Now, they are not puffed up with this, but
the more assurance they have, and the clearer
their view is of the state they are called to,
the more humble they are ; still laying these
together, What was I in myself? and what
am I in Christ? And, in comparing these,
they are swallowed up with amazement at
that love which made this change; and for this
very end doth the apostle express thus their
estate, Ye are of him in Christ Jesus.
This is a new being, a creation ; for, in re-
lation to this being, we are nothing in our
state of nature ; and then, considering that in
relation to others, the meanest are often
chosen and made partakers of this being, such
as have nothing naturally great of nobility,
or morality, or high intellectuals; the most
nothings are often chosen and made parta-
kers of this being, to illustrate the power of
Him who makes them exist. In kings some-
what may be observed of this in their choice
of favorites, and raising men who are not
of highest deserving, as affecting to show
their freedom in choice, and their power in
making out of nothing, and so they love to
have them called their creatures. But these
are but shadows: both are poor creatures, both
are easily thrown down. But God doth in-
deed show, in his choice, his freedom and
power in his new creature: he draws them
out of the lowest bottom of nothing, and
raises them to the most excellent kind of
being that creatures are capable of, to be the
sons of God, and so heirs, joint heirs with
Christ Jesus. Rom. viii. 17.
Ye are of him in Christ Jesus.] This must
be taken in an eminent sense. "All the crea-
tures are of God ; but man, even in his first
creation, for the dignity of his being, and the
slow way of forming him, was accounted to
be of God, in a peculiar manner; formed to
his own likeness, and therefore called the Son
of God, called his offspring. Acts xvii. 28.
But in this new being, much more are we so:
we are of him as his children, partakers of
the divine nature, and that so fastened that it
abideth. And the medium of this excellent
and permanent being is primarily to be con-
sidered ; for in him it becomes so. It is both
high and firm, being in the essential Son, as
the foundation of it; therefore here express-
ed, as bearing the whole weight of this hap-
py fabric.
Of him, ye are in Christ Jesus, . The life
which believers derive from God is through
him. He is that eternal Word, by which all
things were made in their first creation, and
do still subsist. Heb. i. ; John i. And he is
made the basis of the second creation, in a
1 CoR. i. 30.]
537
SUMMARY OF SPIRITUAL PRIWILEGES.
wonderful way, becoming himself a creature;
and so, the root of the new progeny is from
heaven, the sons of God: so it follows in both
these cited scriptures. John i. 12–14. The
word was made flesh, and so, they that re-
ceive him are made the sons of God. And so,
Heb. ii. 10, 11, amply and excellently is that
mystery unfolded. The first frame of man,
at least the excellency and beauty of it, was
broken by his fall; therefore a new model is
framed of a selected number, to be a new
world, more firm than the former, united un-
to God so close, as never to be severed again.
Man, though he was made holy and God-
like, continued not in that honor. Now God
himself becomes a man, to make all sure:
that is the foundation of an indissoluble union.
Man is knit to God in the person of Christ so
close, that there is no possibility of dividing
them any more; and this union of our nature
in his person is made the ground of the union
of our persons with God. We find our own
flesh catch hold in Christ of a man, and in that
man may find God, and are made one with
him by faith in Christ. And this all the pow-
ers of hell can not dissolve. Our life none
can cut off from his, more than a man can
cut a beam from off the sun. We are and
subsist of God in Christ. This is an unknown
mystery, but, were it known, it would prove
a depth of rich, inexhaustible consolation.
The world doth not know what Christians
are. This is no wonder; for truly they know
not themselves, or but very little. How
would it elevate their spirits, but not in pride
Oh! nothing is more humbling than this, as
the apostle here implies. But it would raise
them above the world, and suit their desires
and their actions to their condition, having
all under foot that the world accounts great,
walking as heirs of heaven, led and moved by
the spirit of Christ in them ; thinking, when
solicited to any base way, how doth this be-
come the sons of God? Shall one who lives
in Christ, degrade him so much, as to borrow
comfort or pleasure from any sin, for the kil-
ling and destruction whereof he laid down his
precious life 2
Oh, my brethren, that this divine ambition
were kindled in your breasts, to partake of
this high and happy being, and leave all your
pursuits to follow this, restless till you be in
Christ For solid, abiding rest, sure I am,
out of him there is none. And then, being in
him, remember where you are, and what you
are. Walk in Christ, and live like him, as
one with him indeed: let his thoughts and
desires be yours. What was his work, yea,
what his refreshment, his meat and drink 2
To do his Father's will. Oh when shall we
find ourselves so minded, as the Apostle's
Word is, the same mind in us that was in
Christ 2
Who of God is made unto us wisdom.]
Known unto God are all his works from the
beginning. It was not an accidental after-
device in God (for in him there can be no
such thing), but was his great forethought
project, out of the ruins of man's first estate,
to raise a fairer and firmer fabric, new from
the very foundation. And in the new foun-
dation lies the model, and excellency, and
stability of the whole structure. This is the
choicest of all his works, wherein he chiefly
glories; his masterpiece, which great angels
admire; and this is it, who of God is made
unto us wisdom. And this is one letter of his
name. He is called Wonderful, who is here
spoken of: so all is wonderful in this work:
wonderful, first, that he should be made any-
thing, the Maker of all things himself made
something which before he was not ; then
nade to us—that he should be made amy-
thing to our interest and advantage, who are
a company of traitors; and made unto us of
God, the God against whom we rebelled and
continued naturally enemies : The purpose
was bred in the Father’s own breast, to
give out his Son, thence to recover us and
bring us back. Oh, astonishing depth of
love! Then, made unto us what ? Rather,
what not ? We are made up in him for ev-
er rich and happy ; he being made all unto
us, all we need, or can desire, wisdom, righ-
teousness, sanctification and redemption.
Without him, we are undone, forlorn caitiffs,
masses of misery, as you say, having nothing
either in us or on us, nothing but poverty and
wretchedness, blindness and makedness, alto-
gether ignorant of the way to happiness, yea,
ignorant of our very misery, a nest of fools,
natural fools, children of folly (as they who
are renewed by, and provided with, this wis-
dom, are called children of wisdom), guilty,
filthy, condemned slaves.
This is the goodly posture we are in, out of
Christ; yet, who is sensible of it 2 How few
can be brought to serious thoughts about it!
Nay, are not the most in the midst of this
misery, yet full of high conceits of their
worth, wit, freedom, &c. 2. As frantic bed-
lamites, lying naked and filthy in their chains,
yet dream they are great and wise persons,
commanding and ordering all about them ;
fancying, possibly, that they are kings, a
stick in their hands a sceptre, and their iron
chains of gold. This is a pleasing madness
for the time; yet, who does not pity it that
looks on ?
Methinks I see one of this sort, when I see
one evidently destitute of Christ, bearing him-
self big upon the fancy of his parts, and birth,
and riches, or stoutness; see such, upon any
cross word, swelling against others, threat-
ening high, and protesting they will be
slaves to none; not knowing that, even while
they speak thus, they are wretched caitiffs,
under the hardest and basest kind of slavery.
Inquire, my brethren, if ever you had a right
and clear view of your natural misery; oth:
erwise you are, it is likely, still in it, and
though you profess to believe in Christ, are
not yet gone out of yourselve to him, and not
knowing your great need of him, do certainly
68
538
[SER. XXIII.
SUMMARY OF SPIRITUAL PRIWILEGES.
make little esteem and little use of him. You
are full, and reign without him ; all is well
and in quiet; but it is owing to the strong
man's yet possessing the house, and keeping
you captives as quiet as he can, that you look
not out, or cry for a deliverer. He is afraid
of him, to be dispossessed and turned out by
Him who is stronger, the mighty redeemer
that came out of Zion. Oh, that many among
you were crying to him, and waiting for him,
to come unto you for your rescue !
Made unto us wisdom, righteousness, sancti-
fication, and redemption.] To supply, and
help all, he is our magazine whither to have
recourse to : for this end, he is replenished
with all the fulness of God, the very fulness
of the Godhead dwelling in him, the Spirit
being not given to him by measure. He is fit
to be made our wisdom, who is the wisdom of
the Father; as here in this place, the apos-
tle lately called him, the wisdom of God. In
*im are hid all the treasures of wisdom and
knowledge, Col. ii. 3. They that find him,
and come unto him, find it so; but the most
look but on the surface; they hear his name,
and know not what is under it.
Made unto us righteousness. By fulfilling
the whole law, and all righteousness, Matt.
iii. 15, and yet, suffering the rigor of it, as if
he had transgressed it. No guile, no spot
was found on him: he was holy, harmless,
undefiled, separate from sinners, and yet, the
greatest sinner by imputation: The Lord laid
on him the iniquity of us all, Isa. liii. 6. And
so, Psalm xl. 12, which is prophesied of him:
Mine iniquities have taken hold of me. He
owns them as his, though not his. He en-
dured all that justice could require, entered
and paid the debt, and is acquitted and set
free again, and ea'alted at the right hand of
God. . So it is evident that he is righteous,
even in that representative and sponsional
person he put on.
Sanctification. Christ is a living spring of
that ; anointed above his fellows. In him is
no mixture of any iniquity. The Holy Ghost
descended on the apostles in the shape of
fire; there was somewhat to be purged in
them : they were to be quickened and enabled
by it for their calling. But on him it de-
scended as a dove: there was no need of
cleansing or purging out anything. That
Was a symbol of the spotless purity of his na-
ture, and of the fulness of the Spirit dwelling
in him.
And redemption. Christ is mighty to save,
and having a right to save; a kinsman ; a
brother. And as he hath bought freedom for
sinners, so, he will put them in possession
of it, will effect and complete it. All that
are in him, are really delivered from the pow-
er of sin and death, and shall, ere long, be
perfectly and fully so: they shall be lifted up
above them, no longer to be molested with
any remainders of either, or with the fear of
them, or so much as any grief for them. And
that day is called the day of redemption, to
which we are beforehand made sure and
sealed by the Spirit. Ephes. iv. 30.
We can not then doubt of his fitness and
fulness to be these, and these for us; but
withal, we must know that he is designed so
to be made unto us, and that he came, and
did, and suffered all for this purpose, and
having done, returned, and now lives, to be
these to us. It is his place and office, and so
his delight; he loves to be put upon the per-
formance of this, to be their wisdom and
righteousness. Made of God, to us. It is
agreed between the Father and him, that he
should be so. He is the wisdom of God, and
made of God our wisdom. Wonderful that
the same which is his own wisdom, and no
less, he would make ours. And now, under
a sense of all our ignorances and follies, it
becomes us to go to him, to apply ourselves
to him, and apply him to us. He is called
our Head, and called so most fitly, for it is
the place of all our wisdom; that lies in our
head. And so, as to all the rest, righteous-
ness, sanctification, and redemption. If he
be righteousness in himself, and holy, and
victor over his enemies, and set free from
wrath and death, then are we so too, in him ;
for he is ours, and so ours, that we become
what he is, are inrighted to all he hath, and
endowed with all his goods; though poor
and base in ourselves, yet married to him ;
that is the title. We are made rich, and no-
ble, and free, we are righteous and holy, be-
cause he is. Uror fulget radiis mariti. The
wife shines with the rays of her husband. All
debts and pleas are taken off, he stands be-
tween us and all hazard, and in him we
stand acquitted and justified before God.
That which makes up the match, and ties
the knot of this union, is faith. He is made
of God unto us wisdom, righteousness, &c.
He is tendered and held out as all these, in
the promise of the gospel; not only declared
to be really furnished and fit so to be, but of
fered to be so, and we warranted, yea, invi-
ted and entreated, to receive him as such.
But he is effectually made to be this to us, to
me, by believing, the promise being brought
home and applied of God, and faith wrought
in the heart to entertain and unite to him.
‘H triarts tootrotei: Faith closes the bargain, and
makes him ours. Now, in that, he is made
unto us, not of ourselves, but God, for that
is his gift and work: we can not believe, any
more than we can fulfil the whole law. And
though men think it a common and easy
thing, to accept of so sweet an offer at so
cheap a rate, nothing being required but to
receive him, yet, this is a thing that natural-
ly all refuse. No man cometh, says he, ea-
cept the Father draw him. John vi. 44.
Though men be beseeched to come, yet, the
most will not come unto him, that they may
have life. To as many as received him, he
gave the privilege to become the sons of God;
John i. 12; and yet, for all that, many did
not receive him; yea, as there it is express-
1 CoR. i. 30.]
539
SUMIMARY OF SPIRITUAL PRIWILEGES.
ed, He came to his own, but his own received
him not. They who were nearest to him in
natural relation and interest, yet refused him,
for the most part, and attained not this bless-
ed spiritual interest in him unto life.
It should be considered, my brethren, Christ
is daily held out, and none are excluded or
excepted, all are invited, be they what they
will, who have need of him and use for him;
and yet, who is persuaded ? Oh, who hath
believed our report 2 One hath his farm, an-
other his owen, each some engagement or an-
other. Men are not at leisure for Christ.
Why 2 You think, may be, you have re-
ceived him. If it be so, you are happy. Be
not deluded. Have you received him 2 Do
you find him then living and ruling within
you ? Are your eyes, upon him 2 Do you
wait on him, early and late, to see what his
will is ? Is your soul glad in him 2 Can
you, in distress, sickness, or poverty, clasp to
him, and find him sweet, and allay all with
this thought, However things go with me,
yet, Christ is in me 2 Doth your heart cleave
to him 2 Certainly, if he be in you, it will
be thus ; or, at least, your most earnest de-
sire will be, that it may be thus.
Men will not believe how hard a matter it
is, to believe the fulness and sufficiency of Je-
sus Christ, till they be put to it in earnest to
make use of him, and then they find it :
when sin and death are set before their view,
and discovered in their native colors unto the
soul, when a man is driven to that, What
shall I do to be saved 2 then, then is the
time to know what notion he hath of Christ.
And as the difficulty lies in this, in the first
awakening of the conscience from sin, so, in
after-times of temptation and apprehension
of wrath, when, upon some new-added guilt-
iness, or a new sight of the old, in a fright-
ful manner, sin revives and the soul dies, it is
struck dead with the terrors of the law—then
to keep thy hold, and find another life in
Christ, the law and justice satisfied, and so
the conscience quieted in him ; this is indeed
to believe.
It is a thing of huge difficulty, to bring
men to a sense of their natural misery, to see
that they have need of a Savior, and to look
out for one : but then, being brought to that,
it is no less, if not more difficult, to persuade
them that Christ is he ; that, as they have
need of him, so they need no more, he being
able and sufficient for them. All the waver.
ings and fears of misbelieving minds, do
spring from dark and narrow apprehensions
of Jesus Christ. All the doubt is, not of their
interest, as they imagine: they who say so,
and think it so, do not perceive the bottom
and root of their own malady. They say,
they do no whit doubt but that he is able
enough, and his righteousness large enough,
but that all the doubt is, if he belong to me.
Now, I say, this doubt arises from a defect
and doubt of the former, wherein you sus-
pect it not. Why doubtest thou that he be-
longs to thee ? Dost thou flee to him, as lost
and undone in thyself? Dost thou renounce
all that can be called thine, and seek thy
life in him 2 Then he is thine. He came to
seek and to save that which was lost. Oh,
but I find so much, not only former, but still
daily renewed and increasing guiltiness.
Why, is he a sufficient Savior, or is he not ?
If thou dost say, he is not, then it is mani-
fest that here lies the defect and mistake. If
thou Sayest, he is, then hast thou answered
all thy objections of that kind : much guilti-
ness, much or little, old or new, neither helps
nor hinders, as to thy interest in him and sal-
vation by him. And for dispelling of these
mists, nothing can be more effectual than the
letting in of those gospel beams, the clear
expressions of his riches and fulness in the
Scriptures, and eminently this, Made of God
wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and re-
demption.
Wisdom. Both objectively and effectively.
Objectively, I mean, our wisdom, as all our
wisdom lies in the right knowledge and ap-
prehension of him. And this suits to the
apostle's present discourse. The Jews would
have a sign, and the Gentiles, wisdom ; but
we, says he, preach Christ. So, ch. ii. 2: I
determined to know nothing, save Christ
crucified. He was learnedly bred, and knew
many things beside, much of nature, and
much of the law; but all this was, to him,
obsolete, useless stuff: it was as if he never
had heard of or known anything else but Je-
sus Christ. We may know other things, but
this, and this alone, is our wisdom, to know
him, and him crucified. Particularly, we may
have knowledge of the law, and by it the
knowledge of sin ; but in relation to our
standing before God, and so, our happiness,
which is the greatest point of wisdom, Jesus
Christ is alone, and is all. And the more
firmly a soul eyes Christ, and loses all other
knowledge and itself in contemplating him,
the more truly wise and heavenly it is.
And effectively he is our wisdom. All our
right knowledge of him and belief in him,
flow from himself, are derived from him, and
sent into our souls. His spirit is conveyed
into ours; a beam of himself, as of the sun.
The Sun of righteousness is not seen but by
his own light; so that every soul that is
made wise unto salvation, that is brought to
apprehend Christ, to cleave to him, and re-
pose on him, it is by, an emission of Divine
light from himself, that shows him, and
leads unto him. And so we know God in .
him. There is no right knowledge of the
Father but in the Son. God dwelling in the
man, Christ, will be found or known no-
where else; and they that consider and wor-
ship God out of Christ, do not know or wor-
ship the true God; but a false notion and
fancy of their own.
The Shechinah, the habitation of the Maj-
esty, is Jesus Christ; there he dwells as be-
tween the cherubims over the mercy-seat.
540
[SER. XXIII.
SUMMARY OF SPIRITUAL PRIVILEGES.
To apprehend God so as to love him, and
trust in him all our life, to hope to find favor
and bliss with him, this is the only wise
knowledge of him. Now, this alone is in
Christ, and from him. He contains this rep-
resentation of God, and gives his own light
to see it. So that a Christian's desire should
be, in relation to Jesus Christ, that of David
in reference to the temple, as a figure of
him, One thing have I desired of him, and
that will I seek after, that I may dwell in the
house of the Lord ; that I may get in to Christ,
to know God there, to behold the beauty of
the Lord. There we see beauty indeed, the
Father's glory, and so, as our Father recon-
ciled to us, we see him merciful and gra-
cious. And as we should desire to behold,
So, still, to inquire in his temple, to advance
in the knowledge of God, studying him in
Christ: we are to admire what we see, and
to seek still to see more. And know, that
this knowledge of God, as we have it in
Christ, so it is from him. He reveals the
Father: he came from his bosom for that
purpose. We can not believe on him, can
not come near God through him, but as he
lets forth of his light, to conduct and lead us
in, yea, powerfully to draw in, for his light
does so. Now, knowing and apprehending
him by his own light, his Spirit, the apostle
clears it, that this is our wisdom, by those
rich titles added, according to which we find
him to us, when we receive from him that
wisdom by which we apprehend him aright
and lay hold on him, then made unto us righ-
teousness, sanctification, and redemption.
Righteousness. This doubtless is meant
of the righteousness by which we are justi-
fied before God. And he is made this to us:
applied by faith, his righteousness becomes
ours. That exchange made, our sins are
laid over upon him, and his obedience put
upon us. This is the great glad tidings, that
we are made righteous by Christ. It is not
a righteousness wrought by us, but given to
us, and put upon us. This carnal reason can
not comprehend, and being proud, therefore
rejects and argues against it ; says, How can
this thing be 2 But faith closes with it, and
rejoices in it. Without either doing or suf-
fering, the sinner is acquitted and justified,
and stands as guiltless of breach, yea, as
having fulfilled the whole law. And happy
they who thus fasten upon this righteous-
ness! They may lift up their faces with
gladness and boldness before God; whereas
the most industrious, self-saving justiciary,
though in other men's eyes and his own, pos-
sibly, for the present, he makes a glittering
show, yet, when he shall come to be exam-
ined of God, and tried according to the law,
he shall be covered with shame, and con-
founded in his folly and guiltiness. But faith
triumphs over self-unworthiness, and sin, and
death, and the law, shrouding the soul under
the mantle of Jesus Christ; and there it is
safe. All accusations fall off, having no-
where to fasten, unless some blemish could be
found in that righteousness in which faith hath
wrapt itself. This is the very spring of solid
peace, and fills the soul with peace and joy.
But still men would have something within
themselves to make out the matter, as if this
robe needed any such piecing; and not find-
ing what they desire, thence disquiet and un-
settlement of mind arise.
True it is, that this faith purifies the heart,
and works holiness, and all graces flow from
it; but in this work of justifying the sinner,
it is alone, and can not admit of any mixture.
As Luther's resemblance is, “Faith is as the
bride with Christ in the bed-chamber alone;
but when she cometh forth, hath the attend-
ance and train of other graces with her.”
This well understood, the soul that believes
on Jesus Christ, will not let go for all defi-
ciency in itself; and yet, so resting on him,
will not be slothful nor regardless of any du-
ty of holiness. Yea, this is the way to
abound in all the fruits of the Spirit, first to
have that wisdom from him, rightly to appre-
hend and apply him as Our righteousness,
and then shall we find all furniture of grace
in him ; he will likewise be sanctification.
Say not, Unless I find some measure of sanc-
tification, what right have I to apply him as
my righteousness f This inverts the order,
and disappoints thee of both. Thou must first,
without finding, yea, or seeking anything in
thyself but misery and guiltiness, lay hold
on him as thy righteousness ; or else thou
shalt never find sanctification by any other
endeavor or pursuit.
He it is that is made sanctification to us,
and out of him we seek it in vain. Now,
first he must be thy righteousness, before
thou find him thy sanctification. Simply as
a guilty sinner, thou must flee to him for
shelter ; and then, being come in, thou shalt
be furnished out of his fulness, with grace
for grace. As a poor man pursued by the
justiciary, fleeing to a strong castle for safe-
ty, and being in it, finds it a rich palace, and
all his wants supplied there.
This misunderstanding of that method, is
the cause of that darkness and discomfort,
and withal of that deadness and defect of
graces, that many persons go drooping under,
who will not take this way, the only straight
and sure way of life and comfort. . Now,
Sanctification he is to us, not only as a per-
fect pattern, but as a powerful principle. It
is really the spirit of Christ in a believer, that
crucifies the world, and purges out sin, and
forms the soul to his likeness. It is impossi-
ble to be holy, not being in him ; and being
truly in him, it is as impossible not to be
holy. Our pothering and turmoiling without
him makes us lose our labor ; and in this
point, indeed, little wit makes much labor.
Redemption. . Sin is often prevailing even
in believers, and therewithal discomforts and
doubts arising, as it can not otherwise choose.
Oh, how do they groan and sigh as captives
JER. x. 23, 24.]
541
THE FOLLY OF MAN, &c.
still to the law of sin and death ! Well, there
is in our Lord Jesus help for that too. He is
redemption ; that is, the complement and ful-
ness of deliverance. The price he paid once
for all: now he goes on to work that deliver-
ance by conquest, which he bought by ran-
som. It is going on even when we feel it
not, and within a little while it shall be per-
fected, and we shall see all the host of our
enemies who pursued us, as Israel saw the
Egyptians lie dead upon the shore. Courage |
that day is coming.
And all this is, That he that glories, may
glory in the Lord. Is it reasonable 2 No
self-glorying: the more faith, the less will
there be still of that. A believer is nothing
in himself: all is Christ's, Christ is his all.
That treasurer who, being called to an ac-
count, because that out of nothing he had en-
riched himself suddenly, many thought he
would have been puzzled with it; but he,
without being much moved, next morning
came before the king in an old suit that he
wore before he got that office, and said, “Sir,
this suit on my back is mine, but all the rest
is thine.” So, our old suit is ours, all the rest
Christ's, and he allows it well. And in the
full and pure glory that ascends to God in
this work, are we to rejoice more than in the
work itself as our salvation. There is an
humble kind of boasting that becomes a Chris-
tian. My soul shall glory (or make her boast)
in God, says David, all the day long, “What
was I before I met with Christ,” thinks a be-
liever, “and now what am I ?” And, upon
that thought, he wonders and loves. But
most of the wonder is yet to come; for he
conceives but little what we shall be.
SERMION XXIV.
THE FOLLY OF MAN, AND THE TEACHING OF
GOD.
JEREMIAH x. 23, 24.
O Lord, I know that the way of man is not in him-
self: it is not in man that walketh, to direct his
steps. w
O Lord, correct me, but with judgment; not in thine
anger, lest thou bring me to nothing.
IT can not be expressed what an advantage
a heart acquainted with God hath, in all the
revolutions and changes of the world, when
it turns unto him, and gives vent to its griefs
and desires into his bosom, and so finds ease.
This the prophet does here: after the de-
nouncing of a heavy judgment, he turns tow-
ard him from whom he brought that message,
to entreat for them to whom he brought it.
After a very sad close of his sermon, he adds
this short but very sweet prayer; presents
himself, and speaks in that style, as repre-
senting the whole people: Correct me, O
Lord ; he makes their calamity, as it were,
all his own; bears their person, and presents
his petition for them in his own name. The
prophets, though they could not but applaud
and approve the justice of God who sent them,
in the harshest news they brought, yet, with-
al, could not be insensible to the miseries of
his people; and so we find them mixing pa-
thetical complaints and prayers for them,
with the predictions of judgments against
them.
Observe. And thus are all his faithful min-
isters affected toward his church. The Lord
himself is pleased to express a kind of regret,
sometimes, in the punishing of them ; as the
tender-hearted father feels the lashes he lays
on, though highly deserved by the stubborn-
ness of his children. How shall I give thee
up, Ephraim 2 How shall I deliver thee, Is-
rael ? How shall I make thee as Admah 2
How shall I make thee as Zeboim 2 My heart
is turned within me, my repentings are kin-
dled together. Hosea xi. 8. So it well be-
comes his servants to be thus affected when
they deliver sad news to his people, to return
praying for them ; thus going as angels be-
tween heaven and earth, beseeching the peo-
ple to return unto God, and beseeching God
to return to his people, and spare them.
The prophet, in this prayer, first premises
a position suiting his purpose, and then, upon
that, presents his supplication. The position
he lays, to make a double benefit of it in or-
der to his petition. It is both a sure ground
for himself to stand on, and a fit argument to
move God by. Thus it is, and thus he in-
tends and uses it, at once to support his own
faith, and to work on the goodness of God by
it. Beside the fitness of the truth itself for
both these ends, we find some print of both
in the very way of expressing it, O Lord, I
know that the way of man is not in himself;
so expressing both his own persuasion of the
truth of it, I know, and representing it to
God as a fit truth to urge his suit by, O Lord,
I know.
Observe. A great part of the strength and
art of prayer, lies in this: first, to have the
mind furnished with fit conceptions of God,
and established in the firm persuasions of
them; in that is much of the strength of
prayer: then, fitly to call up and use these
conceptions and persuasions for our own Sup-
porting and prevailing with God; in that lies
the art of it.
We possibly think that we do sufficiently
believe both the goodness and power of God,
especially his power, none suspecting himself
of the least doubt of it; yet our perplexing
doubts and fears, our feeble staggerings in
faith and prayer, upon particular pressing dif-
ficulties, discover evidently a defect here,
though still we will not own it. And alas !
how little faculty have we in the most need-
ful times, to rest on his strength, and to stir
up ourselves to stir him up by prayer, to do
for us, holding firm to that great point of his
absolute sovereignty and power over all
things, and holding it up to him, entreating
542
[SER. XXIV,
THE FOLLY OF MAN,
him by it to appear and work for us. Lord, it
is in thy hand; that I know, and that is
enough to me: thy good will I dare trust.
(For there is implied a secret confidence of
that.) This contents me, that thou hast full
power of the business. . That is the thing
which here the prophet fixes on. O Lord, I
know that the way of man is not in himself.
q. d. As there is in us no power to turn off
the judgment determined, all our wit and
strength can do nothing to that, so we are sure
there is no power in our enemies to do any-
thing either beyond or beside thy appoint-
ment, in the execution of it. And upon this,
Lord, we come to supplicate thee for mitiga-
tion. With men it often falls out, either in
just punishments, or unjust oppressions, that
the ministers and under-officers do exceed
their commission, and overdo their business;
yea, sometimes add little less of their own,
than all that comes to which is appointed to
them. But with thee, O Lord, it is not so.
As our enemies can not stir of themselves
without order from thee, and as thy commis-
sións are always all just, so thou seest to the
performance, art present at it, which often
men can not be ; and so nothing is, dr can be,
done beside thy notice and allowance.
I. His position is this: The way of man is
not in himself, and repeated more plainly, It
is not in man that walketh to direct his steps ;
thus, by a double negation, putting it alto-
gether out of his power. And under this, the
positive truth is couched, that the absolute
disposal of all the ways of man is wholly in
the supreme hand of God ; according to that,
Prov. xx. 24, Man's goings are of the Lord ;
how can a man, then, understand his own way?
He doth not certainly know anything of his
own doings. Even he who seems to know
most, to advise and deliberate upon all he
does, yet hath no power of his contrivements,
knows not which way they will turn, till the
event doth clear it, and even then, on looking
back, is often amazed at the strange course
of things, so far different from, and possibly
contrary to all his witty projectings and mod-
els. He often does not attain his own, but he
never fails to accomplish God’s purpose, even
when his intentions are least from it, yea,
when they are most against it. Let us build
a tower, said they, lest we be scattered abroad,
Gen. xi.; and that was the very thing which
caused their scattering. Joseph was sold by
his brethren, that they might not bow before
him, as he had dreamed ; and this brought it to
pass. Pharaoh says, Let us deal wisely; and
that way of oppressing them, lest they should
go away, both stirred up God to deliver them,
and disposed them to depart. And not to mul-
tiply instances, generally in all the ways of
men, they have their designs at most times
eccentric to God's, but his design holds al-
ways, and theirs no further than they are
his. Have we not ourselves seen instances
of this 2
Man consults and determines freely, yet
even those inward actings of the mind and
will, are ordered and framed by the hand of
God ; and it can not otherwise be. It is a
most vain fancy, to imagine that anything in
this is inconsistent with the natural liberty of
the will, or that any such liberty can be in
any creature, as consists not with his. But
because in these inward actings, man finds
himself more at his choice, though all is se-
cretly overruled, and in the event of things,
God’s sovereign disposal is more legible;
therefore, these two are expressed with some
kind of difference, Proverbs xvi. 9 : A man’s
heart deviseth his way, but the Lord directs
his steps. That is, when he hath devised,
that does not carry it: he may devise and
fancy things twenty ways, and think he is ta-
king freely his own course, but he shall find
in the issue another hand than his own. It
is not in man that walks, as the word is here;
he walketh, and yet the direction of his steps
is in another hand. But in the devisings, too,
the Lord so acts upon man, that he is turned
which way it pleaseth him. Even the heart,
and that of the most uncontrolled, the most
impetuous torrent, the king's heart is in his
hand, as the rivers of waters : he turneth it
whithersoever he will, Proverbs xxi. 1. When
men either determine themselves, or follow
unallowed ways for determination (as those,
Ezek. xxi. 21), yet are they ordered of God.
This he does infallibly and uncontrollably, yet
in such a way as there is nothing distorted or
violented. Fortiter et suaviter—all is so
done. Things are in their own course, and
men are in their voluntary choice; yet, all
subserving the great Lord, and his ends, and
his glory, who made them all for himself:
as the lower orbs have each their motion, but
are all wheeled about with the first. Men
know not what he is doing by them, and
what in the end he will do with them. With
the rod of Assyria he scourges his children,
and then throws the rod in the fire. Isa. X. 5
and 16. The horseleech draws the blood to
fill itself, but the physician intends the pa-
tient's health. Men are drawn on by tempo-
ral prosperings and successes to drive proudly
and furiously, till they drive themselves over
the edge of the precipice appointed for their
ruin; and all his exalting them for a season,
is, in the end, to exalt himself in their great-
er and more remarkable destruction. I will
get me a name upon Pharaoh, and all his host.
Men are busy, consulting or acting with or
against one another, and he sits and laughs at
their wisest plots: he alone is in all affairs,
doing all his own will in heaven and in
earth.
Oh the folly and blindness of men, who
think to carry all to their minds, and walk as
masters of their own designs, and never have
any serious thought of him in whose hands
both they and all their business, and all the
affairs of states and kingdoms of this world,
are as a piece of wax, to frame them to what
he pleases—he who destroys the counsels of
JER. x. 23, 24.]
543
AND THE TEACHING OF GOD.
the wise, and makes the diviners mad, who
pours contempt upon princes, leads counsel-
lors away spoiled, and maketh the judges
fools; he who hath set limits to all things, to
the raging of the sea, making the small sand
give check to the great ocean : when it brake
out of the womb, he had a cradle provided for
it, and swaddling-bands, Job xxxviii., and
there, though it rolls to and fro, yet it can not
get out. Oh it is ignorance of God makes
men rush on, and not inquire whether he be
with them or no. Moses was wise and stout,
and leader of a numerous people, yet he
would not stir on other terms: If thou go not
with us, let us not go up hence. Well, if men
will on their peril, be it; let us reverence God.
For even this is for him, and he will gain his
glory out of it. The way of man is not in
himself. If we see their folly, let us learn to
be wiser, to keep close to him, and desire his
gracious direction to our ways; for it is not
in our hands, even when we intend best. And
for public affairs, let us rest satisfied in his
part. Amid all disorders, he is ordering all
wisely and justly, and to them who love him,
graciously ; therefore we ought not to be dis-
mayed. Let us calm our thoughts with this,
remember who it is that rules all, and dis-
poses of peace and war, and all affairs, and
we can not wish them in a better hand. I
am persuaded that in all the commotions of
the world, when a believer thinks on this, it
can not but calm and compose his spirit ex-
ceedingly: My Father rules all. Let this so
quiet our fears, as that withal it quicken our
prayers, and stir us up to the work of this
day—repentant, humble, seeking unto God ;
Seeing all is in his hands, our peace, our lib-
erties, and our enemies, that threaten to be-
reave us of both. Oh that the effect of all
our troubles and dangers were to drive us
more to God, to make us throng more about
the throne of grace, to draw forth our King
for our help : Oh, our impenitence and unre-
formedness! That turns him to be our ene-
my, and that only. Men are nothing. And
now, in so great straits, yet so little calling
on him " Oh, my brethren, what are we
doing 2 Oh! pray, pray. It is our God that
commands all, and we may say it upon his
. warrant, it is prayer that commands
2/72,
II. The petition : Correct me, &c. When
the hand of God is stretched out against a
people or a person, certainly there is no run-
ning from him. The only wise and safe
course is, to run unto him. This the prophet
does in behalf of his people, and by his ex-
ample teaches them so to do. As the prophet
utters his own sense and desires in this pray-
er, so he sets it as a copy to the people
of God in time of judgment to pray by:
shows them the way, which is, not vainly to
offer to flee from him, or proudly to stand out
against him, to their undoing, but to humble
themselves under his mighty hand, supplica-
ting him, yielding themselves, and begging
quarter. Correct me, O Lord, with judg-
ment, not in anger, lest thou bring me to noth-
ing. That I should suffer for my rebellion,
there is good reason; yet, Lord, do not ut-
terly destroy me, which will be, if the weight
of thine anger fall upon me. And for that,
though indeed we have deserved it, yet there
is another vent for it, and, pardon us to say
so, fitter matter for it: Pour out thy wrath
upon the heathen : ver. 25: let it go out that
way. So we see the supplication hath these
two particulars in it, an aversion and a diver-
sion ; an aversion of the anger of God upon
his own people under correction, and a diver-
sion of it upon his and their enemies; Lord,
turn from us, and pour it out there. The
aversion is presented qualified with an hum-
ble submission, declaring expressly they de-
cline not that correction of God, but only
deprecate his consuming anger. Correct me,
O Lord, but with judgment, that is, with
measure; such as the discretion and love of
a father resolves on toward a child, Thus
much will I correct him for his good, and no
further.
Not in thine anger. God is pleased to ex-
press his displeasure against sin by wrath and
anger, even toward his own children. But
the anger which here the prophet entreats
exception from, for the church, is anger op-
posed to judgment, unbounded, destroying
anger, that"knows no limits nor stop, but the
devouring of those against whom it is kin-
dled. This is spoken in our language, but it
is to be understood in a way suiting the pu-
rity of God. In him truly is no passion at
all, much less any that is not ordered by wis-
dom and judgment. He is not carried in heat
beyond his purposed measure, but knows well
how far he intends to go with any, and goes
no farther. But as his anger means his just
punishing of sin, so his unlimited anger sig-
nifies no other than his just proceeding in
punishment, to the utter destruction of inflex-
ible sinners; and to this is opposed here, his
correcting with judgment, that is, in a ſa-
therly, gracious moderation, such as does not
utterly ruin and cut off, but indeed reclaims
and converts sinners unto him.
This submission and yieldance to a meas-
ured correction, is a thing most reasonable:
they that know anything aright of themselves
and God, will not refuse it.
First, reflecting on their own sinfulness,
which when truly discovered, even where
there is least, yet is there efiough of it to jus-
tify even utter destruction. Therefore have
we good reason unrepiningly to receive such
moderate correction from the hand of God as
he thinks fit, and to wonder that it is no
more. It is one true character of repentance
under the rod, to accept the punishment of
our iniquity, to have our untamed spirits
brought low, to stoop to God, to acknowledge
our punishment to be far less than our ini-
quity, and that it is of his goodness that we
are not consumed, as the church confesses,
544
[SER. XXIV.
THE FOLLY OF MAN, &c.
Lam. iii. 22. Though we feel it heavy, and
the measure hard, yet self-knowledge and
conscience of sin will lay the soul low, and
make it quiet, so that it will say nothing, or
if anything, it will be confession of its own
guiltiness and the righteousness of God; still
clearing him in all, as it is, Psalm li. 4, and
using that other, Psalm czix. 137; whatso-
ever is so inflicted, Righteous art thou, O
Lord, and just are thy judgments. Which
words a good king used, being put in prison,
and hardly dealt with. So the psalmist,
Psalm xxxviii. 3: There is no soundness in
my flesh, because of thine anger ; neither is
there any rest in my bones, because of my
sin. He justifies God’s anger by his own
sin. Thus Daniel makes confession for this
people, under the very captivity here threat-
ened, when it had lasted out the full term.
See Dan. ix.
And knowing our sin, ought we not to al-
low God the clearing of his own justice, his
purity and hatred of sin, in punishing it !
And, possibly, he will punish sin most exem-
plarily here, in those who are nearest him,
his own people and children; he can least
endure it there. This, especially, when we
consider his sovereignty and greatness, that
he is tied to no account of his actings; and
though we did not see so clear reason for our
sufferings in our deservings, there is reason
enough in his will. And this, well consid-
ered, would bring us to much humble sub-
mission in all. I was dumb, says David, I
opened not my mouth, because thou didst it.
Psalm xxxix. 9. The bishop of Troyes meet-
ing Attila marching toward the city, asked
who he was. I am, said he, the scourge of
God. Upon this, he set open the gates to
him ; but God marvellously restrained the
soldiers in that city.
But yet further, as our own guiltiness, and
God’s righteousness and greatness, plead for
this compliance with his chastisements, so
even his goodness, and our own profit in them.
There is in his chastising of his own people
very much mercy, that they may not be con-
demned with the world. 1 Cor. xi. 32. Their
afflictions have a secret stamp of love on
them : By this is the iniquity of Jacob purged,
&c. He purifies a people in his furnace, that
they may be holy unto him; gives his own
many sweet experiences of secret support and
comfort in affliction, and seasonable delivery
out of it, and brings them forth with advan-
tage. The peaceable fruits of righteousness.
Heb. xii. 11. He humbles and purges a peo-
ple, or a person, by his rods, and prepares
them for greater mercies, to enjoy them both
more sweetly and usefully : renews his cove-
nant and the mutual endearments of love be-
tween himself and his people, according to
the gracious promises made to his people, in
relation to this very judgment here threat-
ened, and after inflicted on them. See Isaiah
liv.; Ezek. xxxvi.
We, possibly, think it strange that our
pressures and troubles still continue, and rath-
er grow upon us than abate; but we judge
not wisely concerning this, the most part
cursing and repining, others falling into a
dead, hopeless stupidness, not caring what
becomes of things. But our best course were,
to turn to him who smites us, to acknowl-
edge our rebellions and his justice, to eye
men less, and God more, in our sufferings,
and to confess that our provocations exceed
all that is come upon us; to fall down hum-
bly before God, and take submissively his
chastisement, saying, Correct me, O Lord,
but with judgment ; and with the church, I
will bear the indignation of the Lord, because
I have sinned against him. Mic. vii. 9.
Thus, likewise, in private personal correct-
ings, let us learn to behave ourselves meekly
and humbly, as the children of so great and
good a Father; whatsoever he inflicts, not to
murmur, nor entertain a fretful thought of it.
Besides the undutifulness and unseemliness
of it, how vain is it! What gain we by
struggling and casting up our hand to cast
off the rod, but the more lashes : Our only
way is, to kneel and fold under his hands, and
kiss his rod, and, even while he is smiting us,
to be blessing him, sending up confessions of
his righteousness, and goodness, and faithful-
ness, only entreating for the turning away of
his wrath, though it should be with the con-
tinuing of our affliction. That is here the
style of the prophet’s prayer, Correct me, O
Lord, but not in anger. And, according to
this suit, even where troubles are chastise-
ments for sin, yet a child of God may find
much sweetness, reading much of God’s love
in so dealing with him, in not suffering him
to grow wanton and forget him, as, in much
ease, even his own children sometimes do.
And as they may find much of God's love to
them in sharp corrections, they may raise and
act much of their love to him in often-repeat-
ed resignments and submissions of them-
selves, and ready consenting to, yea, rejoicing
in his good pleasure, even in those things
which to their flesh and sense are most un-
pleasant.
Now, to the petition, the averting of his
anger. That is the great request of them
who know and fear him; and there is high
reason for it. The heaviest sufferings are
light without it, but the least ingredient of
that adds inexpressible weight to the small-
est affliction. This was the thing, it is likely,
which made the visage of death so sad to
holy men in Scripture, David, Hezekiah, &c.,
that in those times it had some character of
God's anger against them upon it; came to
them as a messenger of displeasure. So a
thing, small in itself, may be a great curse.
To be cast out unburied is no great matter.
Natural men slight it; Caelo tegitur, qui non
habet urnam. There is little difference, to lie
eaten of beasts above ground, or of worms
beneath. Yet, when foretold to a man as a
judgment denounced from God, as against
IsA. xxx. 15–18.]
545
MERCY DESPISED, &c.
that king, Jeremiah xxii. 19, it hath its own
weight, carrying some stamp of God’s despi-
sing him. And though a man feels it not
When it is done, yet he feels it, looking on it
beforehand, especially as threatened of God;
sees himself, as it were, dragged about and
iOTI].
Now, if any little particular cross, marked
with God's present anger, becomes so heavy,
how much more is his abiding, prolonged
Wrath, the thing here spoken of-anger, to
which no bound is set ! That, says he, in the
name of his people, would bring me to naught.
There is no standing before it; it will make
the stoutest and proudest to shake, yea,
shakes them to pieces. If the wrath of a
king be to meaner men as the roaring of a
lion (Prov. xix. 12), how much more terrible,
even to kings themselves, is the wrath of
God . This great King whose voice shakes
the mountains, and makes the earth to trem-
ble, armies of terrors and deaths are nothing
to a look of his angry countenance. If he
withdraw not his anger, the proud helpers
stoop under him. Job ix. 13. The helpers of
pride, the great Atlases of the world, who
are thought to bear up all, those who, for their
wit and power, are thought the supporters
of the kingdoms, how soon are they crushed
to pieces by a touch of this anger of God,
and perish at the rebuke of his countenance 1
O Lord, says that holy man, Psalm Xc. 11,
considering the frailty of poor man, and the
power of God, who knows the power of thine
anger ? Even according to thy fear, so is
thy wrath ; full as much, yea, far more terri-
ble than we can apprehend it.
They who dare go on in ways wherein it
may be but suspected that he is against them,
oh they know him not. Let us consider, and
fear before him; and, for the land, still en-
treat the turning away of his wrath, rather
than deliverances from any pressures: Lord,
while thou thinkest good further to afflict us,
so as to draw us nearer to thee, we are con-
tent, yea, we will bless thee; but whatsoever
thou do with us, suffer not thy hot displeas-
ure to arise against us, for then we are un-
done. So this is all a soul under his hand, in
affliction, ought to say, Correct me, but not
in wrath, lest thou bring me to nothing : thou
knowest I can not stand before that. He is
pleased to look to this, and to express it as
that which moderates his anger, even when
justly incensed; Isa. lvii. 16; I will not con-
tend for ever, neither will I be always wroth:
for the spirit should fail before me, and the
souls which I have made. Lord, if thou wilt,
now quickly and how easily couldst thou
break into pieces, or sink into nothing, not
only me, a little atom of it, but the entire
frame of this whole world; and, therefore,
strive not with me. This Job often repre-
sents, and God is pleased to move himself to
restrain his wrath and draw forth his mer-
cy by it. His great compassion lays hold on
such considerations. See Psalm lxxviii. 38,
39, and Psalm ciii. 14. And this may furnish
great confidence to souls under a sense of
wrath, that do but fall down and entreat for
mercy. He who so often prevents us, when
we seek it not, will he cast any one away
who seeks and sues for it?
The diversion of this anger briefly relates
to the heathem, the professed and obdurate
enemies of God and his church ; q. d. Thy
wrath, O Lord, may have its course, and yet
spare thy people. There is matter enough
for it round about, that is good for nothing
else; and good reason for it, besides all other
wickedness, their spite and cruelty against
thy people: For they have eaten up Jacob.
Note the character of the ungodly, who are
fit fuel for this fire, That know not, and call
not on thy name : that profess not, pretend
not to be thine. Tremble, you who are too
like these, though reputed among the people
of God. . Seek the knowledge of God, and
worship him, families and persons, lest this
curse come upon you.
Now, this is a prophetical foretelling of
the utter destruction of the church's enemies
whereas the church is corrected in measure,
and not destroyed. She is first punished ; but
they that come last, the enemies, the heaviest
wrath falls down there, and smothers them,
ends on them, and makes a full end of them.
Jer. xxx. 11. The belief of this may uphold
the faithful in the church's greatest distresses.
When at the lowest, then the wrath is nearest
changing place and removing to her enemies.
And this is to be so desired and prayed for,
in reference to the implacable enemies of God,
that we should beware we mix nothing of our
own interest or passion with it. As wrath in
God is without any disturbance astuas et
tranquillus es, so somewhat like is the desire
of it in the godly, a calm, undistempered love
of the name of God. And so shall the saints.
rejoice in the final victory and triumph of
Christ over all his enemies, and their final
ruin in that day when they shall be made his.
footstool. Then they shall have a pure com-
placency and delight in his justice ; that shall
make all even. And why are we disquieted,
if we hope for that day ?
SERMON XXV.
MERCY DESPISED, AND THE CONTEMPT PUNISHED.
ISAIAH xxx. 15–18.
For thus saith the Lord God, the holy One of Israel,.
In returning and rest shall ye be saved, in quietness
and in confidence shall be your strength; and ye
would not.
But ye said, No, for we will flee upon horses, there-
fore shall ye flee. And we wiride upon the swift,
therefore shall they that pursue you be swift.
One thousand shall flee at the rebuke of one : at the
rebuke of five shall ye flee, till ye be left as a beacon
* the top of a mountain, and as an ensign on a
9
546
ISEE XXV.
MERCY DESPISED,
And therefore will the Lord wait, that he may be
gracious unto you, and therefore will he be exalted,
that he may have mercy upon you : for the Lord
is a God of judgment; blessed are all they that
wait for him. &
IN the sentence of that greatest and biggest
judgment that ever yet came on the world,
the universal deluge, as we have it Gen. vi.,
that word doth most lively express the reason
of it, My Spirit shall not always strive with
man. For thus it is, while he spares even
his own people, he is at a continual strife with
them by gracious entreaties and mercies, by
advices, and warnings, and threatenings, still
contesting ; that is the way, he uses in the
contest, on his part, against refusals, and
revolts, and rebellions on their part. Thus
here.
The question between him and his people
here, is about the help of Egypt: this God
often declares to be wholly against his mind
and their own good : yet they on all occasions
had so strong a mind to it that they could not
be diverted. The prophet here hath his
message concerning this point, to preach it,
and to write it, to remain ad perpetuam rei
memoriem, as they speak, that it may be for
the time to come, for ever and ever ; ver, 8;
shows them plainly, that this course was
wholly without the counsel and consent of
God, yea, directly against it, and that it should
succeed accordingly: The strength of Pharaoh
shall be your shame, and the trust in the shadow
of Egypt your confusion ; it shall prove to
you according to its name, a land of distress
and trouble, instead of help. And if you would
know what would suit that other name of
Egypt better, that were humble yieldance to
God, and confidence in him : your Rahab,
your best Egypt, your truest strength, were
to sit still. Ver. 7. This is here again repre-
sented to them, so gladly would he reclaim
them.
For thus saith the Lord.] The words have,
1st, God's express advice to his people. 2dly,
Their peremptory refusal of it. 3dly, His just
sentence passed upon their obstimacy. The
advice is prefaced with the usual words of
the prophets, Thus saith the Lord ; for in
that lies the dignity and authority of the
message. His advices, doubtless, are the
choicest and the safest : yea, his counsels are
all commands, requiring duly the most absolute
obedience.
The Lord Jehovah.T Were but his word
Known to be his, and taken so, how would our
souls melt, and yield to the impressions of it,
when we read or hear ! Oh learn to hear
him, to take every word of his as from his own
mouth, every time the law is read, as if thou
heard it from Mount Sinai. So think, now
God commands me to fear him, as if you heard
him speaking from heaven. That would
level more our opinion of men, and make less
difference of his messengers.
. . Another word of his style is here added,
The holy One of Israel. This is much to be
considered by his people, the holiness of his
nature, and withal, the nearness of his rela-
tion to them, and so, the reverence and obe-
dience we owe him, our deep engagement to
holiness, as his people, his children. This is
his image in us, if we are truly such. All his
sons and daughters are like him, holy as he is
holy. The blind, base world thinks it a word
of disgrace, but the great God owns it as a
chief point of his glory, a diamond of his crown,
and frequently expresses it as one of the titles
he most delights to be known by, Holy, Holy,
Holy. And as this is beheld, the heart can
In Ot àt be filled with reverence, and holy fear,
and self-abasement; as this prophet here, in
seeing the vision, and hearing that voice, Then
said I, Wo is me, for I am undone. Isa. vi. 5.
This is here used fitly to scare his people
from rebellion, the unholy way on which they
were so bent; and the rather because they
were grown weary of it, and desired not to
hear this word. Wer. 9. Therefore it is the
more repeated ; Because ye despise this word,
ye shall hear it the more. Ver. 12. The
prophet will neither be mocked nor threaten-
ed out of it; he will both deliver his message,
and give the King who sent him his own title.
Andoh, that we knew him according to it,
and understood what this means, The holy
One of Israel ! He was a holy man, and
knew something, who yet confesses his own
ignorance in that point (there must be some
knowledge of it, to discover ignorance of it):
I neither learned wisdom, nor have the knowl-
edge of the holy. Prov. xxx. 3.
In returning and rest.] In leaving off the
pains ye take in messages and journeys to
Egypt, in humbly and quietly composing
yourselves to wait on me, and trust in me;
submitting to my hand, in what I bring upon
you, and from the same hand, mine alone,
expecting deliverance in due time. This does
not bar the use of all lawful means, but as it
shuts out perplexing cares and turmoil even
in those good means, so it expressly forbids
all intermeddling with all unwarranted ways,
such as God doth not direct us to, but rather
dissuades us from.
And if this be the safest way, surely it is
the sweetest, easiest way. There can not be
anything easier than to be quiet and sit still.
to rest and trust, and so be safe and strong.
And as it is in this particular, so generally, it
is in all the ways of God; they are the only
easy, peaceable, sweet ways, with the least
pains, and the surest advantage. And the
ways of disobedience, besides what comes
after, are, even for the present, more turbulent,
laborious, perplexed ways. What a hurry
and pother are men put in, to serve their lusts,
or their ambition, when, if they attain their
object, it does not quit the cost and the pains ;
besides that if their hopes mock them, and
after long pursuit, they embrace a shadow.
Thus men woo their own vexation, and take
a great deal more pains to be miserable, than
they would be put to, to make them nappy.
lsA. xxx. 15–18.]
547
AND THE CONTEMPT PUNISHED,
What a pity to pay so dear for nothing, to
give their riches and treasures, and to be at
pains too to carry them to a people that shall
not profit them (et oleum et operam), both
their expense and travel laid out to no pur-
pose ! The voluptuous, or covetous, or am-
bitious, how do they project, and drudge, and
serve their wretched lusts, who, when they
have done one piece of service, are still to
begin another And what is the profit of all,
but shame and sorrow at last 2 The humble,
sober-minded Christian saves all that pains,
and hath his heart’s desire in quietness and
confidence.* His great desire and delight is,
God; and, by desiring and delighting, he hath
him. Psalm xxxvii. 4: Delight thou in the
Lord, and he shall give thee thy heart’s desire
—HIMSELF ; and then, Surely, thou shalt have
all, Any other thing commit to him, and he
shall bring it to pass.
Strangeſ men might have God at an easier
rate than the poorest vanities they are hunt-
ing after, and yet they will not; a full foun-
tain of living waters is ready provided, yet
they will be at pains to hew out little cisterns,
which, after all their pains, are but broken
cisterns, and can hold no water.
I know not what men are doing, still at
work, when they might better sit still, troub-
ling themselves and all about them, and can
not well tell for what. Oh, the sweet peace
of believing and obeying God . They truly
conquer, sitting still ; Sedendo vincebant. In
all times, they are safe under the shadow of
the Almighty ; are strong in the Lord, and
£n the power of his might.
And ye would not, but said, No.] . Thus
men sometimes flatly reject his counsels, and
when they are not so gross as plainly to speak
it out, yet say so in doing so, and for good
manners' sake will blanch it with reproach-
ing the messengers; will have it to be not
God’s mind, but men's own fancy, a false
vision ; will own nothing for truth but what
suits their humor and design. First, they re-
solve on their course without acquainting God,
ask not his advice; then, when he is pleased
to give it by his messengers, they reject it,
not under that name, as God’s advice, but will
not have it pass for this, because it crosses
their already-determined course. If it favored
that, then, no question, it were welcome
enough as his word. That is meant by those
words, ver, 10: Which say to the prophets,
prophesy not unto us right things ; speak unto
ws smooth things, prophesy deceits. And so
they used Jeremiah long after, in this very
point. Jer. xlii. 2. And so they go on to take
their own course; No, but we will flee upon
horses.
And this is the nature of carnal hearts;
they are generally inclined to rebel, and take
a Way of their own, casting away the counsels
of God, as not suiting with the state, or with
wit, or points of honor. They find more feel-
* Vacat temperantia, Sed non habebunt requiem,
qui bestian adorant.—SENECA.
ing and real substance in sensual things than
in the promises of God: these seem airy, un-
sure things to them ; therefore, they would
still see apparent means, and where these
ſail, think it but a fancy to rest on God. They
dare not trust him so but as withal to do for
themselves, although nothing can be done but
what he forbids, which therefore can not be
done without giving up with him, and depart-
ing from their trust on him. All this cleaves
to us, and much cause have we to suspect
ourselves, when it is but doubtful that there
appears little or no evidence of God's counsel
or good-will to a business, but rather clear
characters of his dislike, and much of our own
will, a soul, uncontrollable bent to it; when
we are conscious to ourselves of this, that
either we have not asked advice of God at all,
or very slightly, not being much upon our
knees with it; or, possibly, in asking his
advice, have brought our answer with us, in
our own breasts, the lying oracle that making
answer, and we consenting to delude ourselves,
nor hearkening to anything that does not clink
and sound to our purpose.
Our hearts are exceedingly deceitful, and
particularly in this point of withdrawing our
trust from God, and leaving off to follow him
in his ways, to trust on the arm of flesh, on
policy and strength, and self-resolved under-
takings, rather than on him without these.
Evil men think that those who advise them
to trust on God are silly fellows, who know
not what belongs to policy and reasons of state.
A fancied wisdom it is, that men are enamor-
ed with, and look not to a higher wisdom,
consider not God, that he also is wise. Isa.
xxxi. 2. There is, I think, in that word a
tart scorn of the folly of their seeming wis-
dom. Be it that you are wits, yet you will
not deny some wisdom to God: Yet he also
is wise. So they think not on his power
neither; therefore he puts them in mind
(ver. 3), that the Egyptians are men.
Well, if you be resolved on that course,
says God, then know mine too, that I am re-
solved upon : Therefore ye shall flee, shall
have fleeing enough; and if you be swift, the
that pursue you shall be swifter, and one shall
serve to chase a thousand, the rebuke the very
terror of one. This is the condition of the
mightiest people and the best-appointed ar-
mies, when forsaken of God. There is no
strength nor courage, nor anything. of worth
in any of the creatures, but as it is derived
from God: it is dependant on him in the con-
tinuance and use of it. Why are thy valiant
men swept away ? They stood not, because
the Lord did drive them. Jer. xlvi. 15. We
have seen this, and the turn of it on both
sides, how men become a prey to any party,
when the terror from God is upon them.
Therefore, learn we to fear him, to beware
of all ways wherein we may justly apprehend
him to be against us. Cleave to him and to
his truth, when it is lowest, and when no hu-
man means of help appear, then think you
548
[SER. XXV.
MERCY DESPISED,
hear him saying to you, Stand still, and see
the salvation of the Lord.
Wer. 18. Therefore will the Lord wait..]
There is no language of men nor of angels fit
to express the graciousness of God’s punish-
ments and the threatenings of them ; as if they
were violently drawn and forced from him,
but mercy, and the sweet promises thereof,
naturally flowing from him. Thus, here, he
is forced to give up his people to their own
counsels, because they will not follow his ad-
vices. He entreats them to be quiet, and let
him do for them ; but seeing they will not sit
still, and be safe at his direction, they must run
their own course, and fall in it. But it can not
pass so, they must not be quite given over ;
the Lord hath an interest in them which he
will not lose. They must indeed for a time eat
the fruit of their own ways, and that is not a
season to show them favor; but the Lord will
wait a better hope. Re is resolved to show
them mercy, and will find his own time for
it: Therefore will HE wait, that he may be
gracious.
And this is he moved to, according to his
gracious nature, by the greatness of their dis-
tress and desolation. Though procured by
themselves, by their great, their inflexible
stubbornness, yet he pities to see them so left
as a beacon on the top of a mountain, and as
an ensign on a hill. And therefore will the
Lord wait. Thus we have the proper argu-
ings of free mercy, which otherwise, to our
narrow thoughts, may seem strange and some-
what inconsequent. Such a therefore as this,
so unexpectedly changing the strain, doth
genuinely and sweetly follow upon the prem-
ises, when free love is the medium : that in-
tervening in the midst, makes the sweet turn.
Your iniquities prevail to bring you low, and
lengthen out your calamities; therefore, I
will let that have its course, and will stay
till my fit time come to do you good. Mean-
while I will lie hid, and be as sitting still ;
but when that time comes, I will get up and
show myself. He will be ea'alted, that he may
have mercy on you ; for the Lord is a God of
judgment. He is wise, and just, and good,
and knows his measures of afflicting his peo-
ple, his times and ways of delivering them,
and of bringing destruction on his enemies,
and will not slip this season; and it being so,
this certainly follows, that they are blessed
that wait on him.
Observe, 1. The strong inclination of God
to show merey. He would willingly have his
people to find nothing but ease; he delights
in the prosperity of his servants, would have
them constantly have a sweet, peaceful, yea,
cheerful life, by constant walking in his ways;
but they are often the enemies of their own
peace, grieve his Spirit, and turn him to be
their own enemy. But he can not persist in
that to his own ; he longs to be at his way of
mercy and loving kindness again. He retains
not his anger for ever, because mercy pleases
him. He inflicts judgment for sin, but what
he delights in is mercy. Therefore, says the
prophet, Lam., iii. 32, 33, Though he cause
grief, yet he will have compassion according
to the multitude of his mercies: For he doth
not willingly afflict the children of men.
Though he doth grieve them, yet, not willing-
ly ; they themselves procure and draw on
º, by grieving his Spirit. But he willingly
shows mercy, for that abounds: there is such
multitude and plenty of it, that, as to full
breasts, it is a pleasure to him to let it forth.
The two words, gracious and merciful, which
stand first in the name of God, Exodus xxxiv.
6, the one signifies free grace, the other, ten-
der bowels of mercy. This is no emboldment
to continue in sin, yea, it is of all things the
most fit encouragement and inducement to a
sinner to return from sin ; and so it is used and
urged throughout the Scriptures. See Isaiah
xxxi. 5, 6, and lv. 7; Jer. iii. 12. In public
calamities, where a people are charging the
cause thereof upon themselves, searching
their hearts and their ways, and turning unto
God, humbly acknowledging their iniquity,
and entreating pardon, oh this is the thing
he would not despise. Yea, it is what he
looks and longs for, and upon that would
readily forget all past disloyalties. See Jer.
iii. 1. Yea, at the sound of their repentings,
his bowels would resound with compassion
by a secret sympathy and harmony, as one
string, well tuned to another, stirs when it is
touched. Thus, Jer. xxxi. 18–20.
This a sinner shall find in his returning un-
to God, more than we can express or promise
in his name. Oh, he waits to be gracious,
meets thee graciously. Yea, he hath first
touched thy heart secretly, hath first drawn
it toward himselſ, before it stirred, or had a
thought that way. Now no more upbraid-
ings or remembrance of all thy wanderings:
an act of perfect oblivion is past. For I will
forgive their iniquity, and I will remember
their sin no more. Jer. xxxi. 34. Is thy heart
any little softened, and relents it toward him 3
Then, the controversy is ended, and his
thoughts are now, how to comfort thee. Art
thou busy inditing accusations against thy-
self? Then makes he it his part to wipe
away and blot out. Comest thou home with
a heart full of holy shame and grief, and thy
mouth full of humble confessions of thy diso-
bedience 2 Then know, it is thy tender-
hearted Father meets thee, most ready to
forgive thee, yea, to interrupt thy confessions
i. the middle with embraces and kisses of
OWe.
But, alas! we preclude ourselves from the
sweet experiences of these tender mercies, by
the hardness of our hearts, and by the light-
ness and vanity of them. Oh that indignity,
our God still waiting to be gracious, to heap
up more of his love to us, but we are busied
in other things, and not at leisure to wait on
him " Oh what are they, these things that
take us up 2 Great matters ? Alas! sorry
trifles, all day long. And when we are at
IsA, xxx. 15–18.]
549
AND THE CONTEMPT PUNISHED.
leisure, yet we are not at leisure; for then
we must take our ease, must go to sleep, and
so still he is put off and forced to retire, after
he has stayed till his head be filled with dew,
and his locks with the drops of the night.
Cant. v. 2.
Observation 2. The Lord doth most exact-
ly and wisely measure both the degree and
the time of his people's afflictions. Though
they have brought them upon themselves, and
justly he might leave them so, this he will
not do: he is a God of judgment. This is
largely and sweetly expressed, in a resem-
blance of husbandry, Isa. xxviii. 24–29. He
knows how much and how long outward or
inward trouble is fit for every one, and where
the less will serve, will not use the more. He
knows what need some spirits have to be
bruised and broken beyond others, either un-
der disgrace or poverty, or the proper pres-
sures of the spirit within, apprehensions of
wrath, or withdrawments, at least, of com-
forts; and hath set his days for deliverance
of his church, and of every believer under af.
fliction. So, the style of the prophet, In that
day, speaking as of a certain prefixed day,
and that, no power or wit of man can disap-
point. And it is so chosen, as it shall be evi-
dent to be the fittest, that it could not so well
either have been sooner or later; all things
concurring to make it most seasonable to his
people, and honorable to his own name. Hab.
ii. 3: The vision is for the appointed time :
1hough it tarry, wait for it , it shall come,
and shall not tarry. That is strange, Though
at tarry, it shall not tarry. . But in the origi-
mal, there are two words, the one importing
an undue slowness or constrained retardment:
that can not be so, it shall not tarry, though
it tarry; that is, though it stay itself, and
come not till the appointed time : so the other
word signifies. Thus, Psalm cii. 13: Thou
shalt arise, and have mercy upon Zion ; for
the set time is come. Now, for this the Lord
waits. It is not through want of love, but
from abundance of wisdom, that he delivers
not sooner. He hath chosen the fittest time,
in his all-discerning wisdom ; yet, there is in
this love, an earnest kind of longing that the
time were come... Thus here, he waits to be
gracious, and he will be exalted, will cheer-
fully and gladly raise up himself, and appear
to show mercy to his people, and bring his
enemies low ; coming forth, as it were, to
judgment, and sitting down on his throne.
In which posture he was not seen while they
prevailed and triumphed, and his church
were under their oppression ; but when the
time of their restoring and consolation comes,
he then is to sit on his throne, and so is exalt-
ed to show them mercy. Hence the psalmist
so often desires that the Lord would arise,
and utters predictions, assuring that he will
arise, and exciting his people to rejoice in
that. Psalm ix. 7, 8, and Psalms xevi.,xcvii.,
and xcviii.
Thus, the church, in her saddest condition,
ought hopefully to remember and rest on it,
that the day is determined, and can not fail.
Our salvation is in God. He laughs at his
enemies, when they are at the top of pros-
perity and pride; sees that their day is com-
ing. Now, certainly the firm persuasion of
this would much stay our minds ; but either
we do not believe, or we do not improve and
use these truths, and draw that comfort from
them which abounds in them. Our God loses
no time: he is waiting till his appointed time.
And if he wait, it becomes us so to do. That
is our duty here, to wait on him. This faith
does, and so, makes not haste; neither goes
out to any undue means, nor frets impatiently
within at the deferring of deliverance, but
quietly rests on God, and waits for him. This,
as it is our duty, is also our happiness; and
thus it is here expressed. Upon consideration
that the Lord wails to be gracious, and will
be ea alted to show mercy, the prophet is car-
ried to this acclamation, in respect to the hap-
piness of believers, O ! blessed are they that
wait for him / Their thoughts fall, in and
meet with his ; for he is waiting for the same
day they wait for, and if he be not disappoint-
ed, they shall not. We are maturally irregu-
lar in our affections and notions, and the only
right ordering of them is, by reducing them
to conformity with the ways and thoughts of
God, which keep an unalterable, fixed course,
as the heavens; the way, I say, to rectify our
thoughts is, to set them by his, as clocks and
watches, which so readily go wrong, too slow
or to fast, are ordered by the sun, which keeps
its course. Oh that we were more careful
to set and keep our hearts in attendance on
God, winding them up in meditation upon
him, and conforming them in their motions
and desires to his disposal in all ; for all that
concerns us, and for the times of all, being
quiet, yea, glad in this, which the psalmist
makes his joy: My times are in thy hand, O
Lord. Psalm xxxi. 15. And surely that is the
best. Were I to choose, they should be in no
other hands, neither mine own, nor any oth-
ers. Alas! what silly, poor creatures are we
How little do we know what is fit for us in
any kind, and still less what time is fit for
any mercy to be bestowed upon us ! When
he withholds mercies or comforts for a sea-
son, it is but till the due season; it is but to
ripen them for us, which we in childish haste
would pluck green, when they would be nei-
ther so sweet nor so wholesome. Therefore
it is our wisdom and our peace, to resign all
things into his hands, to have no will nor de-
sires, but only this, that we may still wait for
him. All shall be well enough, if we but get
rid of the vain hopes and expectations of this
world. None who indulge them are so well
but they are still waiting for somewhat fur-
ther. Now, amid all that, our soul may say
with David, and speak it to God as known to
him, that it is so indeed : And now, Lord,
what wait I for? My hope is in thee, My expec-
tation or waiting (the same word that is here)
550
[SER. XXVI.
CONFESSION AND PRAYER OF FAITH.
is all placed upon thee. Is it so, brethren 3
Are our hearts gathered in from other things,
to this attendance, while the most about us
are gaping for the wind 2 Have we laid all
up in God, to desire and wait for him, and
pretend to nothing beside him ?
I would do so, may a soul think, but can I
hope that he will look on me, and bestow
himself on such a one as I am ? To that I
say nothing but, look on his word. If thou
thinkest that warrant good enough, here it is
for thee, that they are certainly blessed that
wait for him. This is assurance enough.
Never was any one who waited for him, mis-
erable with disappointment. Whosoever
thou art that dost indeed desire him, and de-
sirest to wait for him, surely thou resolvest
to do it in his ways, wherein he is to be
found, and wilt not willingly depart from
these ; that were foolishly to disappoint thy-
self, and not to be true to thine own end.
Therefore look to that: do not keep company
with any sin. It may surprise thee some-
times as an enemy, but let it not lodge with
thee as a friend.
And mind this other thing, prescribe noth-
ing to God. If thou hast begun to wait,
faint not, give not up, wait on still. It were
good reason, were it but upon little hope at
length to find him : but since it is upon the
unfailing assurance, that in the end thou
shalt obtain, what folly were it, to lose all
for want of waiting a little longer | See
Psalm xl. 1. In waiting I waited—waited,
and better waited—but all was overpaid :
He did hear me. So Psalm czXX., I wait and
wait until the morning. These two joined
are all, and may well go together, earnest de-
sire and patient attendance.
These words, as others of the prophet,
which we call consolations, I conceive, look
beyond the deliverances from outward trou-
bles, to the great promise of the Messmah.
Sure I am the strain of something following
is too high for that, and can not but have an
aspect to the days of the gospel, as that ver.
26. Now the Lord had set his time, that ful-
ness of time for the coming of the blessed
Son in the flesh ; and till that time came, the
the Lord was waiting to be gracious, to open
up his treasures more fully than ever before ;
which when he did, them was he ea'alted to
show mercy, and exalted in showing mercy.
Christ himself was lifted up on the cross,
there to show that rich mercy that is for ever
to be admired: lifted up to show his bowels
as the word is here. Did he not let us see
into his heart, there to read that love that
can no otherwise be uttered 2 And in
that, the Lord was most eminently manifest-
ed a God of judgment, wisdom, and jus-
tice, and mercy, all shining brightest in that
contrivance. There he was lifted up, and
then, after that, lifted up into glory, who is the
Desire of the nations, the Salvation and joy of
all ages, both before and after. Before he
came, they were from one age to another
waiting ; and more particularly at the time
of his coming, God stirred up the expectation
of believers to welcome him, being so near.
See Luke ii. 25, 38. And in all times, before
and after that, he is the happiness of souls,
and they only are blessed that wait for him.
Whether you do, or do not, believe it now,
the day is coming when all the world shall
know it to be so.
SERMON XXVI.
CONFESSION AND PRAYER OF FAITH.
JEREMIAH xiv. 7–9.
O Lord, though our iniquities testify against us, do
thou it for thy name's sake : for our backslidings
are many, we have sinned against thee.
O the hope of Israel, the Savior thereof in time of
trouble, why shouldst thou be as a stranger in the
land and as a way-faring man, that turneth aside
to tarry for a night 2
Why shouldst thou be as a man astonished, as a
mighty man that can not save 2 yet thou, O Lord,
art in the midst of us, and we are called by thy
name ; leave us not.
IF we look backward and forward in this
chapter, we find the three great executioners
of God’s anger on the world foretold, as hav-
ing received commission against this people.
In all troubles, felt or feared, this is still
the great resource of them who are acquaint-
ed with it, and can use it, Prayer. And their
labor in it is not altogether lost, even where
judgment is determined and unalterable, as
here it was ; for some mitigations of time
and measure are desirable, and by pray-
er attainable ; and whatsoever there is of
that kind, the prayers that have been made
long before, have had a concurrence and in-
fluence in it. And always, at the least, pray-
er carries the personal good of them that pre-
sent it: if it return unto their bosom, as Da-
vid speaks, without effect for others, it re-
turns not thither empty, it brings peace and
safety thither with it; they save their own
souls. The mourners, if they turn not away
the destroyers’ weapons from the city, yet,
they procure one sent along with them, with
an ink horn for their own marking and spar-
ing, Ezek. ix. 3. ...And were there nothing in
this, nor any following effect, prayer hath
within itself its own reward. Did we know
it, we should think so. The very dignity
and delight of so near access to God, to speak
with him so freely, this in itself is the most
blessed and honorable privilege that the crea-
ture is capable of; it is a pledge of heaven,
something of it beforehand, a standing in pre-
tension to the life of angels: Angelorum can-
didati, as Tertullian speaks; it is to be but a
little lower, as the word is, Psalm viii. 5.
Many practise a form; few know the vital
sweetness of it.
Oh, my brethren, be aspiring to more heav-
JER. xiv. 7–9.]
551
CONFESSION AND PRAYER OF FAITH.
enliness, and a higher bent of the soul in it
than as yet you know, and use it more that
way ; use it for yourselves and others, this
whole land, these kingdoms, the church of
God through the whole earth. No times
that we have seen, wherein it hath been
more needful, and none wherein less plenti-
ful. There is no one that stirs up himself to
day hold on God. Some, no doubt, there are in
these times; yet, so few, so general a decay
and negligence in the zeal and frequency of
prayer, that, to speak of, there is none. And
is it not so now with us? Many discourse
One to another, and yet, most to little or no
purpose : but little is spoken where nothing
would be lost, in humble supplication to God.
And this is the saddest sign of that long last-
ing trouble. , Oh! pity the kingdom and your-
selves, and learn to pray.
This prayer of the prophet is made up of
the two usual ingredients, confession and pe-
tition.
O Lord, ...] A chief point of prayer
is, the presenting of the soul before God, re-
membering to whom we speak, that is to the
great king, the holy God; which this ex-
presses, where it is indeed, when we say, O
Lord, or should remind us of, when we for-
get it, to have such apprehensions as we can
reach of his glorious majesty. Consider, if
we find our hearts filled with him when we
are before him. Oh how seldom think we
that he is God, even while we speak to him,
and how quickly do we forget it, and let slip
that thought ! . When we have anything of
it, how soon are we out of it, and multiplying
vain words ! For such are all those we utter
to him without this. Oh! pray to be taught
this point of prayer, and watch over your
hearts in prayer, to set them thus when you
enter to Him, and to call them in when they
wander, and pluck them up when they slum-
ber, to think where they are, and what they
are doing. *
Our iniquities testify against us...] Confes-
sion fitly begins. All the difference be-
tween God and us lies in this, our iniquities.
Now humble confession is one great article of
pacification ; it is a thing judgment certainly
aims at, a thing mercy is mainly moved with.
See Hos. v. 15. Psalm xxxii. 5. Jeremi-
ah xxxi. 18.
When we are to encounter any enemy or
difficulty, it is sin weakensus. Now, confes-
sion weakens it, takes away the power of ac-
cusations, anticipates the great accuser,
leaves him nothing to say, takes off the stroke
of sins testifying against us, says, you need
not, I confess all, and more than you can
Say.
For this, a right knowledge of God's law is
requisite, and then a diligent use of it; lay-
ing it to our way, as a straight rule to show
our unevenness, which, without it, we dis-
cern not. Set that glass before you, but with-
al beg light from Heaven to see by ; other-
wise our applications to this work of search-
ing our hearts, and comparing them with the
law, is but poring in the dark, where nothing
is to be seen of our spots though we set the
glass before us, and open the leaves of it.
The spirit of a man is the candle of the Lord ;
Prov. xx. 27; but it is so when he lights it,
and directs a man by it into himself, to see
the secret corners and pollutions that lie hid
within him. Sin discovered by this light,
appears in its native vileness, and that makes
lively resentments and confessions.
Their confession of sin is varied here in
three several expressions, and no one of them
is empty; the adding one to another, testify-
ing a deep sense, and each of them having
much under it, when issuing from an awa-
kened, sensible mind.
Our iniquities testify against us...] This
expresses a deep and clear conviction. Our
iniquities are undeniable ; they stand up and
give in witness against us, and we can not
except against them, nor deny the charge
they lay.
And thus it shall be with all transgressors
in their day, and with each of us. It is not
far off, our particular day, it is coming, when
the most ignorant and impudent shall be
forced to know and the most obstinate and
impudent shall be forced to acknowledge
their iniquities. Such as now will not be
warned and convinced, who hide their sin as
men, like Adam, who show themselves in
that his children, they (as he was) shall be
called for, and forced to come out of the
thickets, and convicted of their disobedience.
This men find sometimes in a day of distress,
when some outward or inward pressure seizes
on them, lays on the arrest, and brings them
to stand and hear what these witnesses have
to say against them. However, there is a
day coming for this at the long run, a day of
particular judgment for each one, and that
great solemn day for altogether: the light of
that fiery day shall let them see to read the
bill they would not look on sooner. If men
would consider this, when sin is speaking
them fair and enticing them, in how differ-
ent a style it will afterward speak, it would
spoil the charm of it. As Solomon speaks of
the strange woman, that her end is bitter
as wormwood (Prov. v. 4), so are all the
ways of sin. Those same sins which look so
pleasing and friendly, and entreat thee, shall
appear again in another tune, and with other
language, to witness against thee, and cry for
vengeance. Men think sin evanishes as it
is acted, and forget it as if they were to hear
no more of it, and know not that it shall be
forthcoming again, even thoughts, words,
and actions. All is kept for a court-day, ini-
quities sealed up in a bag, as Job speaks, as
writs to be produced in the process against
thee. Oh, how little know you what the
amazement is of a man'ssins surrounding him
and testifying against him, that he is a rebel
against God, and to be condemned ' And no
scarcity, such multitudes of them, One com-
b52
[SER. XXVI.
CONFESSION AND PRAYER OF FAITH.
pany succeeding another, as that word, Job
x. 17: Thou renewest thy witnesses against
me : not by twos or threes, but by thousands,
armies of them. This is more affrightful
than to be encompassed with drawn swords,
or to see a whole army march up upon a man,
it were nothing to these bands mustered up.
So Psalm 1. 21: I will reprove thee, and set
them in order before thine eyes.
There is no way to escape but by preven-
tion, taking a day beforehand to judge thy-
self, and call these witnesses, and hear them,
and pass sentence. This would save the la-
bor. God is desirous to have the matter
thus anticipated, and turns it over to thee, to
judge thyself, that he may not judge. Why
defer we ? It is not worth the while and the
pains ? And then for that day, when it would
seem so terrible to have these witnesses stand
up, thy safety is, having judged and condemn-
ed thyself, to take sanctuary in Christ, and
make him thy advocate to answer all for thee.
He can and will do it to the full ; yea, he
hath already answered all that thy sins, were
they many more, can say. Oh, happy the
man that takes this course ! Sin not upon
this account: none surely will do that.
These things I write unto you, Saith the apos-
tle, that ye sin not ; but then, if any man
not so minded, do sin, here is that comfort,
we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus
Christ the righteous. 1 John ii. 1.
Our backslidings are many. This is the
double die of his people's sins; they are not
simple transgressions, but treacheries, revolts,
breaches of promises, of covenant and vow,
turnings back, goings out from God, adultery,
prostituting their hearts to idols, to base lusts;
a heart professed to be married to its Maker,
running a gadding after strange vanities.
And who of us hath not this sadly to say
against himself?—How often have I vowed
myself thine, and with some kind of hopes
and purpose to have been true to it; but how
soon hath all evanished Oh the unspeak-
able unfaithfulness, not only of common for-
mal professors, but of real believers | And
these provoke God highly, go most to his
heart, to be slighted by his own, to whom he
hath so particularly shown himself and im-
parted of his love.
And we have sinned against thee..] This
that comes last seems to sound least ; but I
take it as meaning most : as if they would
have offered at particular confession, and then
seeing such a huge multitude, and no end,
were forced to retire, and shut up all in this
general word. We might and would speak
of many things, but they are too many, we
are overwhelmed. What shall we say? We
have sinned against thee. Thus Job, I have
sinned against thee; what shall I do unto
thee 2. As in David's confession, Psalm li. 4:
Against thee, thee only have I sinned ; THEE,
the great, the holy God, our God. This were
our business, instead of much discourse and
debate of things, to fall down and confess
unto God; to begin at ourselves, our own
breaches and backslidings, and then to add
the public national guiltiness. Oh we are
a sinful people, and few lay it to heart. All
ranks are highly guilty; and where are they
who retire and mourn for their abominations?
Those continued and multiplied, are the con-
tinuers and multipliers of our plagues, sword,
and pestilence, and threatenings of famine.
If you have a mind to do anything for the
land, and for yourselves, your families and
your little ones, oh! apply to this work, to
confess and bewail our iniquities. It may be,
yea, I dare say, it shall be, the Lord will re-
turn and have mercy on us.
O Lord, though our ... testify against
ws.] In all our approaches unto God, it is a
prime thing to take him up according to his
name. This is the very ground of access and
confidence of sinners, and there is no coming
near him without it. We have heard it, that
he is the Lord, merciful and gracious, &c.
Not so much as confessions can be made with-
out this, much less petitions presented. In-
stead of coming to fall down before him, to
acknowledge sin, the Soul will run quite
away, and, though that were in vain, would
seek to hide itself, that it might not at all ap-
pear. But apprehending his goodness and
readiness to forgive, this draws the heart to
him, and being drawn in, this makes it melt
before him. In this some Christians mistake
much, when they hold off from the apprehen-
sions of God’s graciousness, to the end that
they may be the more humble and deeply af-
fected with their sins. No, no: this is that
which warms, and softens, and makes the
soul pliable, fit to receive any form from his
hand. Therefore the people of God, and the
prophets in their name, still lay hold on that,
and interweave it both with their confessions
and their petitions, as the main ground of
their confidence, in presenting both.
The petition is in these two words, which
begin and close—Do for us—Leave us not.
The rest is argument, backing and pressing
the petition with familiar and pathetic ex-
postulations; and in them, the whole strength
of the argument lies in a mutual interest, that
they are his people, and he is their God. But
take the words as they lie.
Do thou for thy name’s sake..] It is not ex-
pressed what or how, and it is best so : that is
referred to Him who knows what is best,
which we do not. It is an act of grace in
general that is sued for, but for the way and
time, all is put in his hand. True it is, that
sometimes prayer is, and must be, somewhat
more particular upon particular warrant, or
upon account of the common liberty that God
gives his children, to present freely, the par-
ticular thoughts and desires of their hearts to
him. But it is good always to close thus, or
that it be understood so when not expressed,
that we resign that matter to him, to make
his own choice of things, and use his own
way. Only, we entreat his favor, and his
JER. xiv. 7–9.]
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CONFESSION AND PRAYER OF FAITH.
owning of us and our condition, that he be for
us, and do for us. And this is safe and Sweet,
to let him choose. We often perplex our-
selves about that which lies not in our way,
and is not our part to be busied in, what
things shall be done. This he undertakes for,
and will be careful of Be not afraid. Psalm
xxxvii. 5. Commit thy way, roll thy wa
upon the Lord, trust on the Lord, and he will
do it; there is no more. In the Hebrew it is,
Turn it over to him and be quiet, and let him
alone, he will do well enough. Besides that
there is all reason for it, if men knew what
peace of spirit there is in this resignation,
they would choose it before any way that
can be thought on, and it never yet repented
any one who chose it.
For thy name's sake.] This is the unfail-
ing argument, which abides always the same,
and hath always the same force. When
nothing is to be said for ourselves but guilti-
ness, yet, this name we may plead by.
Though our iniquities testify against us,
though they return us harsh answers as from
thee, speaking nothing but just refusals of our
suits and rejecting of ourselves; yet, Lord,
remember thy own name, and thence we
look for a better answer. Do according to
that, and for thy name's sake, in regard of
strangers and enemies, who will reproach
thy name in the ruin of thy people; and ſº
thy name's sake, in regard of thy people's
knowledge of it, and confidence in it, who, in
all their straits do expect their help from
thee. Thy promises made to them, and thy
covenant made with them, in these is thy
name, and they do cast themselves, and rely
on it. Now see whether it may be for thy
glory to cast them off. Whatsoever we are,
look to thine own interest, and do for that ;
Do, for thy name’s sake.
In the next clause, and more particularly,
a part of his name is expressed, The hope of
Israel. That is a piece of his royal style, by
which he is known in the world. And in this
appeareth the wonderful condescension and
bounty of God to his creatures, to choose a
number of persons, that he will pass his word
to engage himself to be theirs; not only to
forgive us who are his debtors by our sins,
but to become himself a debtor to us by his
promises. And he loves to be challenged on
them, and pressed with them. It is a maxim
of court-flattery, that mean persons ought not
to urge the king upon his word ; but this
greatest King takes nothing better from the
meanest of his subjects. Lord, thou hast un-
dertaken the protection of us thy people, and
now it lies upon thee, in point of honor and
truth, to save us.
The hope of Israel.] All people, and every
man, have something they rely on and make
their hope; and they often choose the most
broken, rotten hopes, which fail while they
lean upon them, and not only fail, but hurt
them, as Egypt proved to Israel. Therefore
it proved as a broken reed, which not only
flew in pieces in their hand, but the splinter
ran up into their hand and hurt them. How
often have we found it thus, been disappoint-
ed, yea, wounded by our vain hopes, pierced
through with many sorrows, as the apostle
speaks of those who love and trust in riches :
Therefore Job disclaims this, that he never
made gold his god : If I made gold my hope.
Ch. xxxi. 24. There is a word of one of his
friends speaking, ch. xxii. 25, rendered in our
translation, The Almighty shall be thy de-
fence: the word is in the original, The Al-
mighty shall be thy gold. To those who ac-
count and make him so, he is both ; for they
are rich enough in him in the greatest scar-
city, and safe enough in him in the greatest
danger.
But you who would look to it, inquire each
of you well, what is thy hope, what thy heart
readiest turns to, and cleaves to, to comfort
itself in any distress. Yea, in the times of
the greatest ease, what are thy thoughts most
biased and turned to, with oftenest and deep-
est delight? Canst thou say, It is to God 2–
that thy heart hath got that retreat, and is in-
ured to that, is frequently there throughout
the day, turns by, or passes over husband or
wife, or children, or riches, or delights, or
anything that would stand in thy way, and
stays not till it be at him, and there rejoices
in his love, sits down under his shadow con-
tent and happy, willing that others should
rule and share the world as they please ? that
thou dost not envy them, yea, canst even pity
them with all their gay hopes and great proj-
ects? yea, though thou do not find at all
times, yea, possibly, scarcely at any time, that
sensible presence of God, and shining of his
clear-discovered love upon thee, yet that still
he is thy hope, that thou art at a point with
all the world, hast given up all to wait on
him, and hope for him, and dost account thy-
self richer in thy simple hope, than the rich-
est man on earth is in his possessions 2 Then
art thou truly so, for the hope of God is heav-
en begun, and heaven complete is the posses-
sing of him.
The Savior thereof..] Not exempting them
from trouble, but saving in time of trouble.
The reason for Israel’s trouble lay in their
own sin and security, and their abuse of ease
and peace: but yet, they were not left to per-
ish in trouble, but had a Savior in time of
trouble, who was then most eyed and consid-
ered, and found to be so. In the furnace, both
the faith of his people, and the truth of his
promises, are tried.
The children of God are much beholden to
their troubles for clear experiences of them-
selves and of God. And in this, indeed, is
the virtue of faith, to apprehend God as a
Savior in time of trouble, before he come
forth and manifest himself to be so.
Wicked men have their times of trouble
too, even here, but have no title to this Sa-
vior. , Sua fortuna fabri—if themselves or
friends, or means can help them, it is well:
70
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[SER. XXVII.
CALAMITIES CAUTIOUSLY INTERPRETED.
but they can go no further. But the church,
the Israel of God, when all help fails on all
hands, has one great resource that can not
fail, the strong God, her hope and Savior in
time of trouble, or straitness. When there is
no way out, he can cut out a way through the
sea, can divide their enemies, or whatsoever
is their greatest difficulty, and make a way
through the middle of it. Well might Moses
say, Happy art thou, O Israel ! Who is like
wnto thee, O people saved by the Lord, the
shield of thy help ? Deut. xxxiii. 29. Men
are under-saviors in outward deliverances; so
it is said, Neh. ix. 27: Thou gavest them sa-
viors ; but he IS THE SAVIoR. All others
have their commissions from him. All their
strength and all their success, is from him.
Without him, no strength, nor wit, nor cour-
age, avail: all falls to pieces when he with-
draws his hand. Give us help from trouble,
or, says the church, vain is the help of man.
We have found this, if any people ever did,
and have had real lectures to teach us to
cease from man ; for wherein is he to be ac-
counted of 2 Yet, still we are ready to look
to multitudes, or to the quality of men who
undertake for us. But if we do so, yet shall
that prove our shame and disappointment:
and it shall never go well with us, till our de-
pendance and confidence come clear off from
all creatures, and we fix it entirely upon him
who is our shield and our strength.
Thus should a soul in particular distress,
especially in inward trouble, wherein the help
lies most incommunicably and immediately
in God's own hand, learn to trust him. And
though thou art not clear in thy interest as a
believer, yet, plead thy interest as a sinner,
which thou art sure of God in our flesh hath
enlarged the nation of Israel; all that will but
look to him, he is their Savior: Look unto
me, and be saved, all the ends of the earth.
Now, he hath styled himself the Savior of
sinners; press him by that: Lord, I do look
to thee, do for me, O Savior Help, I am in
trouble. So, in any particular temptation,
either to sin, or to distrust because of sin,
say, Now, Lord, here is an opportunity for
thy power and thy grace to glorify itself.
And though thou find thyself sinking, yet be-
lieve, and thou shalt not drown.
Why shouldest thou be as a stranger in the
land 2) The main thing desired was, his
constant abode with them. Some passing
deliverances he had wrought; but that was
not enough. He came as a stranger, to stay
a night, refreshed them with a transient vis-
it, and away again. Thus we may say, He
hath still done for us. When we were in
desperate straits, he came and helped ; but
then we were left to such counsels as bred us
new troubles. He hath not so º
yet taken up his residence, though he hat
built him a house among us, we trust, with
that intention, to dwell with us. This we
are to sue and entreat for.
Why art thou as one astonished 2) Why art
thou looking on our miseries as an amazed
Stranger, as not concerned in our affairs or
condition, and not caring what becomes of
us; as a traveller, but passing through, and
having no further interest or regard; or, as a
mighty man that can not save, as Samson aſ-
ter his hair was cut, either as wearied or
bound, or somewhat hindered, though strong
enough. ".
Now, Lord, look not on. Own our suffer-
ings, and bestir thyself. Make it appear that
thou faintest not, neither art weary, nor that
anything can stand before thee and be thy
hinderance. Break through our sins, the
greatest hinderance of all; let not these stop
thy way, nor bind thy hands. For thou art
in the midst of us: though we see thee not so
in thy work as we desire, yet here we know
thou art in thy special good-will and power,
as thou art in our profession and homage
done to thee as our king among us. That
testifies thy presence. Thou canst not so
hide thyself, but there are still some charac-
ters of thy presence. And we are called by
thy name, thy people. If we perish, thy name
being upon us, what becomes then of it 2
Therefore leave us not. Though thou strike
us, yet stay with us, and we shall live in hope
of favor and deliverance: if thou go not
away, Our cries and prayers, at least our mis-
eries, will move thee.
These things make up our plea. We are a
most unworthy people, yet, we are called by
his name, are in covenant with him ; so, his
glory is interested. We must not let go
this. And what advantage so great as to have
our interest wrapped up in his 2 His glory
and Our Safety are in one bottom, to sink and
Swim together ; then, there is no hazard.
Therefore keep close to his interest and his
covenant, and beg his staying with us, and
arising for us, and lay hold on him for this end.
It is a pleasant violence ; and were there
many to use it toward him, our deliverance
were not far off.
SERMON XXVII.
CALAMITIES CAUTIOUSLY INTERPRETED.
LUKE xiii. 1–9.
There were present at that season some that told him
of the Galileans, whose blood Pilate had mingled
with their sacrifices.
And Jesus answering, said unto them, Suppose ye that
these Galileans were sinners above all the Galileans,
because they suffered such things?
I tell you, nay; but except ye repent, ye shall all like-
wise perish. - - -
Or, those eighteen, upon whom the tower in Siloam
fell, and slew them, think ye that they were sinners
above all men that dwelt in Jerusalem?
I tell you, nay; but except ye repent, ye shall all like-
wise perish. -
He spake also this parable: A certain man had a fig-
tree planted in his vineyard, and he came and sought
fruit thereon, and found none.
LUKE xiii. 1–9.]
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CALAMITIES CAUTIOUSLY INTERPRETED.
Then said he unto the dresser of the vineyard, Behold,
these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig-
tree, and find none ; cut it down ; why cumbereth
it the ground?
And he answering, said unto him, Lord, let it alone
this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung it;
And if it bear fruit, well; and if not, then after that
thou shalt cut it down.
IT is no easy or common thing, to give God's
ways a right construction. For the most part
we either let them pass unobserved, or un-
frame our observations, looking those princi-
ples and passions of our own, which give
things another shape or color than what is
truly theirs. This was here the case. This
sad accident should have been observed by
them who heard it, and might have been
spoken of by them to very good purpose; but
our Savior knew well what they meant by
reporting the story, and what thoughts they
had of it and of themselves, and by his answer,
it would seem, all was not right with them.
The fact here related, we have not any
further account of in sacred history, nor any-
thing that we can clearly and certainly call it
in any human writer. It is commonly con-
ceived to have been done at Jerusalem, where
Pilate abode, and that his power was exerci-
sed and done upon the followers of that Judas
of Galilee spoken of, Acts v. 37, being such as
denied it to be lawful to give obedience to the
Roman empire, or to offer sacrifice for the in-
terest and good of it. When they, it is likely,
were coming together to offer at Jerusalem,
and to maintain and to spread their opinion,
Pilate comes upon them, and, while they were
at the solemnity, makes a sacrifice of them to
that authority they refused to sacrifice for:
whether justly or nor, we can not determine;
our Savior does not ; but if it was just, surely
it was very tragical and severe, suitable to
that character Philo gives of his disposition
who acted it. [AucíAukrow.] The straining of
justice, commonly breaks it : a little of the
other side, is, of the two, doubtless, the safer
eXtreme.
However, this stroke and all others, as they
come from the Supreme Hand, are righteous.
Whatsoever be the temper or intent of the
lower actor, and whatsoever be the nature of
the action, as from him, the sovereign hand
of God is in them, and chief in them. Amos
iii. 6: Shall there be evil in a city, and the
Lord hath not done it 2 And yet all evils, as he
doth them, are both good and well done. Ac-
tions, whether voluntary or casual, as these
two here, yet do powerfully issue from the
First Being and Worker, and as from him, are
both unalterably certain and unquestionably
just. Thus they who here report it seem to
have judged of this passage, that it was a just
punishment of sin. And our Savior contests
not about that, but rather seems to agree to
them so far, and draws that warning out of it:
he only corrects the misconceit it seems they
were in, in thrusting it too far off from them-
selves, and throwing it too heavy upon those
who sacrificed.
Think ye that they were sinners 2) Though
it were an error to think that all temporal evils
are intended of God as punishments of some
particular guiltiness, and so to be taken as in-
fallibly concluding against either persons or
causes as evil, yet certainly the hand of God,
either upon ourselves or others, is wisely to
be considered, and it will very often be found
a punishment pointing to the sin. And it is
certainly an argument of very great stiffness
and pride of heart, not to observe and acknowl-
edge it, and a sure presage either of utter ruin,
or, at least, of a heavier stroke. Any one who
is set against the Lord, and will not be hum-
bled, whether by what he sees on others, or
what he feels on himself, shall find he hath
an overmatch to deal with, that will either
bow him or break him. Isa. xxvi. 11: Lord,
when thy hand is lifted up, they will not see :
but they shall see and be ashamed for their
envy at the people ; yea, the fire of thine ene-
rmies shall devour them.
Think ye that they were sinners above all
men that dwelt at Jerusalem £1 Our Savior
goes not to search into the quarrel, and to con-
demn or justify either the one party or the
other; that was not for his purpose. His aim
was to rectify the mistake of those he spoke
to, and to draw forth from their own relation
what was most proper for their use. Much
of our hearing and telling of news, hath little
of this in it ; and with most persons it doth
not relish, to wind things that way. Some,
even good persons, do accustom themselves,
and take too much liberty, to an empty, fruit-
less way of entertainment in this kind. And
if we make any remark, it commonly keeps
abroad, comes not home to ourselves. Be it
a judgment, be the persons great sinners in a
sinful course, yet, they are not always the
greatest of all because they suffer and others
escape, as we readily think, and the Jews
here concluded concerning these Galileans.
God is to be adored and reverenced, who
useth his own freedom in this ; he does in-
justice to none, yet chooses them on whom
he will do exemplary justice, and whom he
will let pass, and gives no account of this to
any. Some less wicked have been ensamples
to them who were much more wicked than
thev.
3. not flatter yourselves in the conceit of
exception from some stroke which others in
the same way with you have fallen under, or
even from some course which others have run
and smarted in, and bear yourselves big upon
the name of God’s people. But tremble be-
fore the Lord, and search your own hearts.
And let us think, though we may not beguilty
of such public scandalous evils as others fall
into and are punished for, yet how full are
we of secret malice, pride, and lusts, &c., and
let us wonder at the patience of God to our-
selves, while multitudes have been swept
away round about us. Think you that they
who have died by sword or pestilence of late,
were greater sinners than we who are left
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[SER. XXVII.
CALAMITIES CAUTIOUSLY INTERPRETED.
behind 2 Oh, no! but except we repent, we shall
all likewise perish. Enough of these arrows
are still in God’s arsenal, and though he use
not these to us, yet remember, death, and
judgment, and eternity, are before us, and they
call for wise and speedy consideration and re-
pentance.
Oh! you that go on in your transgressions
after all that is come upon us, who were
drunkards and swearers, and are so yet, what
think you ? Because the heat of public judg-
ment is abated, is there no more fear 2 Have
you made a covenant with hell and death,
and gained quarter of them that they will not
seize on you ? Oh that will never hold :
they will not, they can not keep to you. And
if you hold on your course when the day of
visitation shall come, how much heavier shall
it be by all this forbearance You shall wish
you had been cut off with the first. The day
is at hand, when it shall be easier for them
than for you. Only, the advantage is, that
there is an exception yet sounding in your
ears; Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise
perish.
I beseech you, my brethren, enter into your
own hearts, and be not always out of your-
selves, and so out of your wits. Consider the
Lord’s ways and your own, and wonder at his
goodness. Why am not I made an example
to others, as well as so many have been made
examples to me 2 Now let me fall down at
his feet, and beg of him, that as he hath not
made me an example of justice all this while,
he may now make me an example of mercy
and free grace to all that shall look on him.
Our Savior, to their reported instance adds
another himself, which was, no doubt, late
and recent with them, to the same purpose,
and in the same strain : Think ye that they
were sinners above all men that dwelt in Jer-
usalem 2 I tell you, nay, but eacept ye re-
pent, ye shall all likewise perish. Not just
after the same particular manner, but the like-
ness is in perishing.—You shall as certainly
perish as they are perished. And this, to
many impenitent sinners, is verified in their
being cut off, even by some temporal judg-
ment, after long-abused forbearance, and often,
very like those they have seen instances of,
and would not be warned by. Thus, it was
fulfilled to many of the Jews, in the death of
many thousands of them, and the destruction
of their city by the Romans, in which there
was much likeness with the two explanatory
judgments here mentioned. But the universal
and far more dismal perishing of unrepenting
sinners, is that death which lies unseen on
the other side of that death we see and are so.
afraid to look on. Oh I saw we the other,
this would appear nothing : it would be the
only terrible of all terribles indeed. And how
terrible soever, it is the unfailing attendant
of impenitence. These God hath linked to-
gether, and no creature can sever them, con-
tinuance in sin and perishing, repentance and
life. It is faith, indeed, that lays hold on our
pardon and life in Christ, and by that we are
justified and saved ; yet, so as this is still true,
so that the other mowise crosses it, that there
is no life without repentance. And this
wrongs not the gospel at all, to preach and
profess repentance; yea, it is a prime point
of preaching the gospel. And here we find
the great preacher of the gospel, who is him-
self the great substance and subject of the
gospel, this is his doctrine, Except ye repent,
ge shall all likewise perish. There is no right
preaching of the gospel, but the doctrine of
repentance must be in it: the drawing and
turning of the soul to God, from whom it is
gone out by sin, this the gospel aims at. And
there is no right preaching of repentance,
without the gospel. The law indeed dis-
covers sin, but that is not enough to work
repentance: for that, there must be a door of
hope opened to a sinner, at which he may
come in, hoping to be pardoned and accepted
upon returning and submitting. This the
gospel alone does. And whensoever the
prophets preached repentance, there was
somewhat that always expressed or imported
the notion of the gospel, God declaring him-
; reconciled, ready to forgive and receive
III].
Now, not to speak of the nature of repent-
ance, which here were pertinent, I shall only
desire you to seek to know the nature of it, by
feeling the power of it within you.” Oh!
happy they that do | Were the sweetness of
it known, we might persuade most by that;
but that cannot be known, till webe persuaded
and brought to repentance,—the delight there
is in those tears, the pleasure in crucifying sin,
even the most pleasant sins. The soul, then
in its right motion when turning toward God,
finds itself moved sweetly ; but it is thrown,
and distorted, and disappointed in turning
from him and following sinful lusts. But
here, necessity is the argument, the highest
necessity. If it may be necessary for you not
to perish, then it is necessary for you to re-
pent. Had any of you an ulcer, though pain-
ful to be lanced, yet, if told it must be, else
you would die, that would make a man call
for it and entreat it. Lord what is the mad-
ness of the minds of men Do we believe
that there is such a thing after all that is here,
as perishing and being saved, eternal death
and eternal life, and can we think on any-
thing else, so as to forget these, or to be
negligent and unresolved concerning them,
and yet, eat and please the flesh, and seek to
make other things sure, and leave these to
their hazard 2 The God who made your
hearts, persuade them. For who else can Ž
The parable that follows, teaches the same
doctrine of repentance, and that upon the mo-
tive of patience and forbearance. He spake
also this parable : A certain man had a fig-
tree planted in his vineyard. Particulars
* Malo sentire compunctionem quâm scire ejus defini-
tionem. I would rather feel compunction, than know
its definition. [Thomas à Kempis.]
LUKE xiii. 1–9.]
557
CALAMITIES JAUTIOUSLY INTERPRETED.
should not be overstrained and squeezed for
morality. The main is, God’s dispensation,
and his expectation in his orchard, the church.
Our Savior is much in this way of teach-
ing. He calls in natural things to serve spir-
itual ends; and so all are fit to do, had we
the faculty to exact it. A spiritual mind
draws that which is symbolical with it, out
of all. Such may fruitfully walk in gardens
and orchards, and feed on the best, though
they stir nothing. The great Lord is him-
self the planter of his vineyard; his own
hand sets each tree. And the soil is fruitful,
there is sap and moisture. This is to be un-
derstood of his visible church and ordinances;
for the planting here signifies that. Christians
are often compared to things living, growing
and fruitful; as to the vine and fig-tree, Isa.
V., &c. . There is high engagement to be so,
and real Christians are truly so.
And he sought fruit thereon.] Good rea-
son had he so to do, having so planted it.
Those trees which are left wild in the barren
wilderness, no fruit is to be expected on
them ; at least, no garden-fruit, such as grows
in the garden of God. Some natures have
Some kind of fruit, and some sweeter than
others,but they are but wild figs. God's delight
is to come into his garden, and there eat his
pleasant fruits. Cant. iv. 16. Natural men
may, after their fashion, be temperate, and
patient, and charitable ; but to believe on
God, and love him above themselves, and
from such principles to do all they do, this is
not to be expected.
Now, all that are planted in the church of
God, are, in name, such trees as should have
their sap in them, that is, faith and love, and
bear answerable fruits: they are called
trees of righteousness, and planting of the
Lord, that he may be glorified. Isa. lxi. 3. He
himself knows who are indeed such, and
knows that the rest can bear no such fruit;
Yet, in regard of outward dispensations and
their own profession, he speaks after the man-
ner of men; he comes and seeks fruit. Men
who think they may live in the face of the
church, and make use of her ordinances, and
yet be as excusably barren of all the fruits
of holiness, as if they grew upon a common
heath, it is strange they should not conceive
their own folly, and know that God reckons
otherwise, and according to the ground that
he hath set them in, and the manuring he be-
stows on them, looks for some suitable fruit.
But the most are thus. They consider not
what they are ; think it a kind of imperti-
nent importunity, to press them to holiness,
to meekness, to bearing wrongs, to heaven-
ly-mindedness, to spiritual activity, and use-
fulness to others. Why, it is strange. What
think ye, my brethren, are we Christians, or
are we not ? We have a name that we are
active, and are dead. Congregations are fill-
ed with such ; and when the Lord comes and
seeks fruit, in the greatest part he finds none.
If lies, oaths, and cursings, were the fruits,
there are enough of these ; But zeal for God,
love to our brethren, self-denial, humility, if
these be they, alas! where are they 2 So
much preaching, sabbaths, fasts, and cove-
nants; and where is fruit, the fruits of the
Spirit 2 Oh! there are empty leaves, and
some promising greemness, but the most be-
lie the hope they give. And we of this land,
who are engaged so high, what could have
been done more for us? Though lying far
north, yet have we much of the gospel sun-
shine, and are bound by our own promise, and
covenant, and solemn oath to God, to be more
fruitful. Yet this is still broke. Who that
had seen our first meltings into tears, or fair
buds of stirring zeal, could have imagined
we should have been so barren 2
Then said he unto the dresser of his vine-
yard.] Now the conference with the vine-
dresser about it, though that is much for the
fulness of the parable, yet may imply God’s
imparting of his thoughts concerning his
church to his faithful ministers. Such are
included under that name here. For he
blames not the vine-dresser as negligent, but
complains of the barrenness of the tree. In
the cutting down, there may be some point-
ing at church censure, but I conceive, it is
rather to express God's purpose concerning
the barren tree, than to give order or com-
mand about it. Doubtless, the Lord would
have his vine-dressers sensible of the fruit-
lessness of his trees, though it be not by any
notable neglect on their part.
These three years..] This expresses the
great patience of God, that spares so long,
and speaks not of cutting down at the very
first. Thus, of long time hath he waited
on many of us, many more years than to the
strict number here named; on how many of
us a great part of our lifetime ! Whence is
it that we are not afraid of this word here
sounding, as it were, in our ears ? Cut it
down : why troubles it the ground 2. As if
he should say, It takes up room, and does no
good, yea, hinders and prejudices others, as
all ungodly, fruitless persons in the church
of God do.
The vine-dresser entreats and obtains one
year more. This, the faithful laborers of
God will not fail to do: to preaching to his
people, they will join much prayer for them,
that they may be made fruitful, and mean-
time, be spared and not perish in their un-
fruitfulness. They will double their endeav-
ors in the sense of that danger ; to all other
pains will add this, the watering of them
with tears. God is gracious, and easy to be
entreated, and forbears yet, and waits. Oh
it is not too late. Any of you that at length
are stirred up to any real desires of fruitful-
ness to him, I dare give you warrant to be
confident, not only of his forbearing upon
such a desire, but of his favorable acceptance
of it as a good sign, yea, as already a begin-
ning of fruit. Indeed, in case of people's re-
maining barren after all, the end will be to
558
[SER. XXVIII.
PRESENT DUTY.
be cut down ; and to every fruitless and god-
less person among you, it is not long to that
day ; it will be upon you before you are
aware. As John preached, The are is laid
unto the root of the trees ; therefore, every
tree which bringeth not forth good fruit, is
hewn down and cast into the fire. Matt. iii. 10.
God is taking his axe, as it were, and fetch-
ing his stroke at you, and you know not how
soon it may light, and you be cut down, and
cut off from all hopes for ever, never to see a
day of grace more, nor hear a sermon more
—cut down and cast into the fire to burn, and
that never to end. Oh, for some soul to be
rescued, were it even now ! Oh To-day,
to-day, if you will hear his voice, harden not
your hearts,
Real Christians, though not altogether bar-
ren—that is impossible, yet, are not so plen-
tifully fruitful ; there is little of the increase
of God, such as he may be invited to his
garden for, such as the vine-dressers may re-
joice in, yea, the Master himself. The Lord
maketh a kind of boast of us, as men will
do of trees in their gardens, that they have
much fruit, though possibly a meaner ap-
pearance and show than most of the rest.
Oh, what a joy and glory were it to our
God, to have unobserved, obscure Christians
abounding in sweet spiritual fruits, laden with
fruit, and hanging down the head, stooping
the lower, still the more humble for it; re-
ferring all to himself, living to him, doing all
for him . But alas ! We are empty vines,
bringing forth fruit to ourselves, serving our
own wills and humors, and barren to him.
But for this end are we planted in the house
of God, and ingrafted into the Son of God,
that blessed, living Root, to be fruitful to his
praise. It is his credit; Herein is my Father
glorified, that ye bear much fruit; so shall ye
be my disciples, John XV. 8.
Now, for this are requisite, 1st, Much
prayer. For though here he speaks as an or-
dinary master, yet it is his secret influence
which does all. Hos. xiv. 8: From me is thy
fruit found, and prayer draws down that.
3dly, Much faith in Christ, living to him,
and drawing sap from him. Such as do all
in his strength, and are much in application
and attraction, shall be found the most abun-
dant in all choice and sweet fruits; they who
abide in him, that is, who, in the very act-
ings of faith, any more in him than many
others who yet are in him. But, alas ! this
is a thing of which men speak much, and
know little.
*===
SERMON XXVIII.
(Preached before the Lord Commissioner and the Parlia-
ment, 14th November, 1669.)
PRESENT DUTY.
JoHN xxi. 22.
—What is that to thee ? Follow thou me.
OF all that ever lived on earth, the most
blessed was this handful and small company
our Lord chose for his constant attendants, to
see his divine miracles, enjoy his sweetest.com-
pany, and to hear his divine doctrine. What
a holy flame of love must have burned in
their hearts, who were always so near the
Sun of Righteousness It was indeed a sad
hour, wherein that was eclipsed, and the
Lord of life lay dead in the grave. And what
a deluge of joy was in their hearts when he
rose again And what a transport was it
when they saw him ascend, and a shining
cloud kissing his feet, and parting him from
them . In the interval, as he had risen him-
self, so, he is raising them from their unbe-
lief. St. Peter, not content with a bare for-
saking of his Lord, had also denied him. But
he falls not a quarrelling, but speaks of love
to him, and blows up these sparks of love
with this threefold question, Lovest thou me 2
St. Peter answers fervently, but most mod-
estly, whereupon his Lord gives him a ser-
vice suitable to his love, Feed my sheep : for
which none are qualified but they that love
him. But when he grows bold to ask a ques-
tion, he gets a grave check, and a holy com-
mand, What is that to thee & Follow thou
me. This was a transient stumbling in One
who, but lately recovered of a great disease,
did not walk firmly. But it is the common
track of most, to wear out their days with
impertinent inquiries. There is a natural de-
sire in men to know the things of others, and
to neglect their own, and to be more con-
cerned about things to come, than about
things present. And this is the great subject
of conversation. Even, the weakest minds
must descant upon all things; as if the weak-
est capacities could judge of the greatest
matters, by a strange levelling of understand-
ings, more absurd and irrational than that of
fortunes | Most men are beside themselves,
never at home, but always roving. It is true,
a man may live in solitude to little purpose,
as Domitian catching flies in his closet. Ma-
ny noisome thoughts break in upon one when
alone; so that when one converseth with
himself, it had need be said, Wide ut sit cum
bono viro. A man alone shall be in worse
company than are in all the world, if he
bring not into him better company than him-
self or all the world, which is, the fellow-
ship of God and the Holy Spirit. Yet, the
matters of the church seem to concern all,
and so indeed they do: but every sober man
must say, all truths are not alike clear, alike
necessary, nor of alike concernment to every
one. Christians should keep within their
line. Whether it be the will of our great
Master, that the order that hath been so long
in the church continue in it, or not, What is
that to thee ? It is certainly a great error, to
let our zeal run out from the excellent things
of religion, to matters which have little or no
connexion with them. A man, though he
err, if he do it calmly and meekly, may be a
better man than he who is stormy and furi-
ously orthodox. Our business is to follow
JoHN xxi. 22.]
559
PRESENT DUTY.
JESUs, and trace his life upon earth, and to
wait his return in the clouds. Had I a strong
voice, as it is the weakest alive, yea, could I
lift it up as a trumpet, I would sound a re-
treat from our unnatural contentions and ir-
religious strivings for religion. Oh what
are the things we fight for, compared to the
great things of God 2 There must be a
great abatement of the inwards of religion,
when it runs wholly to a scurf. God forbid
any should think, that except all be accord-
ing to our mind, we must break the bond of
peace. If we have no kindness to our breth-
ren, yet, let us have pity on our mother, and
not tear her bowels. And, indeed, next to
the grave and the silent shades of death, a
cottage in some wilderness is to be wished
for, to mourn for the pride and passion of
mankind. How do the profane wretches
take advantage from our breaches . But if
there be such here, because of the weakness,
folly, and passions of some men, is it folly to
follow Jesus 2 Are some ridiculous, and for
that, will you turn religion into ridicule 2 If
you do, it will at least turn to a Sardonic
laughter. Because we contend for a little,
is the whole an invention ? Will the pillars
be brangled, because of the swarms of flies
that are about them 2
There is an Eternal Mind that made all
things, that stretched out the heavens, and
formed the spirit of man within him. Let us
tremble before him, and love the Lord Jesus.
Our souls have indelible characters of their
own excellency in them, and deep apprehen-
Sions of another state, wherein we shall re-
ceive according to what we have done upon
earth. Was not Jesus, the Son of God, de-
clared to be such by his resurrection from the
dead? Hath there not been received and
transmitted to us, through all ages, many
martyrs following him through racks and
fires, and their own blood, to his glory 2 And
shall we throw off all these ? Better be the
poorest, weakest, and most distempered per-
Son upon earth, with the true fear of God,
than the greatest wit and highest mind in the
World, if profane, or, though not such, if void
of any just or deep sense of the fear of God.
For a living dog is better than a dead lion.
Some religious persons are perhaps weak per-
sons, yet, in all ages, there have been greater
nobles and more generous souls truly religious,
than ever were in the whole tribe of atheists
and libertines.
Let us, therefore, follow the holy Jesus.
Our own concernments concern us not, com-
pared to this. What is that to thee 2 may be
said of all things beside this. . All the world
is one great impertinency to him who con-
templates God and his Son Jesus. Great
things, coaches, furniture, or houses, concern
the outward pomp or state of the world, but
not the necessities of life; neither can they
give ease to him that is pinched with any one
trouble. He that hath twenty houses, lies but
in one at once; he that hath twenty dishes on
his table, hath but one belly to fill. So it is,
ad supervacua sudatur. All are uncertain;
sudden storms fall on, and riches fly away as
a bird to heaven, and leave those who look
after them, sinking to hell in sorrow.
A Christian is solicitous about nothing. If
he be raised higher, it is that he desires not :
if he fall down again, he is where he was.
A well-fixed mind, though the world should
crack about him, shall be in quiet. But when
we come to be stretched on our deathbed,
things will have another visage. It will pull
the rich from his treasure, strip the great of
his robes and glory, and snatch the amorous
gallant from his fair, beloved mistress, and
from all we either have or grasp at. Only
sin will stick fast and follow us. Those black
troops will clap fatal arrests on us, and deliv-
er us over to the jailer. Are these contri-
vances, or the dark dreams of melancholy %
All the sublimities of holiness may be arrived
at, by the deep and profound belief of these
things. Let us, therefore, ask, “Have we
walked thus, and dressed our souls by this
pattern ?”
But this hath a nearer aspect to pastors,
who should be copies of the fair original, and
second patterns who follow nearer Christ; they
should be imitating him in humility, meek-
ness, and contempt of the world, and partic-
ularly in affection to souls, feeding the flock
of God. Should we spare labor, when he
spared not his own blood 2 How precious
must the sheep be, who were bought at so
high a rate as the blood of God! Oh, for
more of this Divine and evangelic heat, in-
stead of our distempered heat. This is the
substance of religion, to imitate him whom we
worship. Can there be a higher or nobler
design in the world, than to be Godlike,
and like Jesus Christ 2 He became like us,
that we might be more like him. He took
our nature upon him, that he might transfuse
his into us. His life was a track of doing
good, and suffering ill. He spent the days in
preaching and healing, and often the nights
in prayers. He was holy, harmless, and un-
defiled, and separate from sinners. How,
then, can heirs of wrath follow the Lamb of
God, that taketh away the sins of the world 3
Humility, meekness, and charity, were the
darling virtues of Christ. He came to expiate
and to extirpate our pride ; and when that
Majesty did so humble himself, shall a worm
swell ? No grace can be where the mind is
so swelled with this airy humor. He was
meek, and reviled not again; nor did he vent
his anger, though he met with the greatest
injuries. The rack of his cross could make
him confess no anger against those who were
draining him of his life and blood: all he did
was to pray for them. Charity was so dear
to him, that he recommended it as the char-
acteristic by which all might know his disci-
ples, if they loved one another. But alas! by
this may all know we are not his disciples,
because we hate one another. But that we
560
[SER. XXIX.
LOVE THE FULFILLING OF THE LAW.
may imitate him in his life, we must run the
back-trade, and begin with his death, and
must die without him. Love is a death. He
that loves, is gone and lost in God, and can
esteem or take pleasure in nothing beside
him. When the bitter cup of the Father's
wrath was presented to our Lord, one drop
of this elixir of love and union to the Father's
will, sweetened it so, that he drank it over
without more complaining. This death of
Jesus mystically acted in us, must strike down
all things else, and he must become our all.
Oh, that we would resolve to live to him that
died, and to be only his, and humbly to follow
the crucified Jesus! All else will be quickly
gone. How soon will the shadows that now
amuse us, and please us, fly away !
sm-mm-
SERMON XXIX.
E,0VE THE FULFILLING OF THE LAW.
MATTHEw xxii. 37, 39.
Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy
God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and
with all thy mind; and thy neighbor as thyself.
THE wisdom and meekness of our Savior is
the more remarkable, and shines the bright-
er, by the malice of his adversaries; and their
cavils and tempting questions occasion our
benefit and instruction. Thus was it here.
We see, the words are the sum of the whole
law, and they are taken out of the book of
the law. They are called two commandments:
the former is the sum of the first ; the latter,
of the second table. Thou shalt love the Lord
thy God. That is, says our Savior, the first
and great commandment. Our first obligation
is to God, and then, through him and for his
sake, to men.
The second is like unto it..] Seems it not
rather contrary than like to the former ?—
Whereas in the former, the whole stream of
love is directed in one undivided current tow-
ard God, this other commandment seems to
cut out a new channel for it, and to turn a
great part of it to men: Thy neighbor as thy-
self. No, they are not contrary, if we take
them right; yea, they do not only agree, but
are inseparable. They do not divide our love,
but they set it in its right course; first, wholly
to God, as the sovereign good, and only for
himself worthy to be loved ; and then, back
from him, it is, according to his own will, de-
rived downward to our neighbor. For then
only we love both ourselves and others aright,
when we make our love to him the reason
and the rule of both.* So, then, our love is
not to be immediately divided between him
and our neighbor, or any creature, but is first,
all to be bestowed on him, and then he dif-
* Minus enim te amat, qui aliquid praeter te amat,
et non propter te. Incipiat homo amare Deum, et non
amabit in homine nisi Deum.—AUGUSTINE.
fuses, by way of reflection, so much of it upon
others as he thinks fit. Being all in his hands.
it is at his disposal ; and that which he dis.
poses elsewhere (as here, Thou shalt love thy
neighbor as thyself), it is not taken off from
him, but abiding still in him, as in its natural
place (as light doth in the sun), flows forth
from him by such an emanation as divides it
not ; as beams flow forth from the sun and
enlighten the air, and yet, are not cut off
from it.
So, then, the second is like unto the first,
because it springs from it, and depends on it.
It commands the same affection; love, in the
former, placed on God, and in this, extended
from him to our neighbor. And it is like unto
it in this too ; that, as the former is the sum
of the first table, and so, the first and great
commandment, so this is the sum of the sec-
ond table, and therefore next unto it in great-
ness and importance.
All the precepts that can be found in the
law and the prophets, are reducible to these,
and all obedience depends upon this love. 1.
Consider this, how these are the sum of this
law. 2. Consider them particularly in them-
selves.
Not only because it is love that facilitates
all obedience, and is the true principle of it,
that makes it both easy to us, and acceptable
to God; but beside this, that love disposes
the soul for all kinds of obedience, this very
act of love is in effect all that is commanded
in the law. For the first, laid to the first ta-
ble, it is so much one with the first com-
mandment, that it expresses most fitly the
positive of it, opposite to that which is there
forbidden : Thou shalt have no other gods be-
fore me—but shalt have me alone for thy
God, or bestow all Divine affection, and all
worship that is the sign and expression of it,
upon me only. Thou shalt love the Lord thy
God with all thy heart, and, if thou lovest me
alone, thou wilt not decline to any kind of
false worship. That were to vitiate thy af.
fection, and to break that conjugal love and
fidelity to which thou art bound by covenant,
being my people as by a spiritual marriage.
Therefore is idolatry so frequently called, in
the phrase of the prophets, adultery and un-
cleanness.
And, in the letter of that second command-
ment, the Lord uses that word which in its
usual sense is conjugal, and relates to mar-
riage, I am a jealous God g and, in the close
of that precept, expresseth particularly this
affection of love, as particularly interested in
it, though extended to all the rest, I show
mercy to thousands of them that love me.
Is it not a genuine property of love, to hon-
or and respect the name of those whom we
love 2 And therefore it is altogether incon-
sistent with the love of God, to vilify and
abuse his name.
They that understand the true use of that
holy rest of the sabbath day, do know that it
frees the soul, and makes it vacant from
MATT. xxii. 37, 39.]
561
LOVE THE FULFILLING OF THE LAW.
earthly things for this purpose, that it may
fully apply itself to the worship and contem-
plation of God, and converse with him at
greater length. Then, certainly, where there
is this entire love to God, this will not weigh.
heavy, will be no grievous task fo it: it will
embrace and gladly obey this fourth com-
mandment, not only as its duty, but as its great
delight. For there is nothing that love re-
joices in more, than in the converse and so-
ciety of those on whom it is placed ; it would
willingly bestow most of its time that way,
and thinks all hours too short that are spent
in that society. Therefore not only they who
profanely break, but they who keep it heavily
and wearily, who find it rather a burden than
a delight, may justly suspect that the love of
God is not in them ; but he that keeps his day
cheerfully, and loves it, because on it he may
more liberally solace and refresh himself in
God, may safely take it as an evidence of his
love to God.
Now, that, after the same manner, the love
of our neighbor is the sum of the second ta-
ble, the Apostle St. Paul proves it for us clear-
ly and briefly, Rom. xiii. 9, 10. All the com-
mandments touching our neighbor, are for the
guarding of him from evil and injury. Now,
Love worketh no ill to his neighbor; there-
fore love is the fulfilling of the law. He
that truly loves his neighbor as himself,
will be as loath to wrong him, as to wrong
himself, either in that honor and respect
that is due to him, or in his life, or chas-
tity, or goods, or good name, or to lodge so
much as an unjust desire or thought, because
that is the beginning and conception of real
injury. In a word, the great disorder and
crookedness of the corrupt heart of man, con-
sists in self-love : it is the very root of all sin
both against God and man, for no man com-
mits any offence, but it is in some way to
profit or please himself. It was a high enor-
mity of self-love that brought forth the very
first sin of mankind. That was the bait which
took more than either the color or the taste
of the apple, that it was desirable for knowl-
edge ; it was in that, that the main strength
of the temptation lay, Ye shall be as gods,
knowing good and evil. And was it not deep
self-love to affect that ? And it is still thus:
though we feel the miserable fruits of that
tree, the same self-love possesses us still ; so
that, to please our own humors and lusts, our
#. or covetousness, or voluptuousness, we
reak the law of God, the law of piety, and
of equity and charity to men. Therefore the
apostle, foretelling the iniquities and impie-
ties of the last times, that men should be cov-
etous, boasters, &c., and lovers of pleasures
more than lovers of God—sets that on the
front, as the chief, leading evil, and the source
of all the rest—lovers of their ownselves:
Men shall be lovers of themselves, therefore,
govetous ; and lovers of pleasures more than
lovers of God, because lovers of their own-
selves. 2 Tim. ii. 2. Therefore, this is the
sum of that which God requires in his holy
law, the reforming of our love, which is the
commanding passion of the soul, and wheels
all the rest about with it in good or evil.
And its reformation consists in this, in re-
calling it from ourselves unto God, and reflect-
ing it from God to our brethren. Loving our-
selves sovereignly by corrupt nature, we are
enemies to God, and haters of him, and
can not love our neighbers but only in refer-
ence to ourselves, and so far as it profits or
pleaseth us to do so, and not in order and re-
spect unto God. The highest and the true
redress of this disorder, is that which we
have here in these two precepts as the sub-
stance of all: first, that all our love ascend to
God, and then, that what is due to men de-
scend thence, and so, passing that way, it is
purified and refined, and is subordinated and
conformed to our love of him above all, which
is the first and great commandment.
Here we have the supreme object of love
to whom it is due—The Lord thy God, and
the measure of it, which is indeed to know
no measure”—With all thy heart, all thy
soul, and all thy mind. For which, in Deut.
vi. 5, we have all thy strength. Luke hath
both. The difference is none, for all mean
that the soul, and all the powers of it, should
unite and combine themselves in their most
intense and highest strength, to the love of
God, and that all the workings of the soul
and actions of the whole man, be no other
than the acting and exercise of this love.
He accounts not nor accepts of anything we
can offer him, if we give not the heart with
it; and he will have none of that neither, un-
less he have it all. And it is a poor all, when
we have given it, for the great God to accept
of. If one of us had the affection of a hun-
dred, yea, of all the men in the world, yet
could he not love God in a measure answera-
ble to his full worth and goodness. All the
glorified spirits, angels, and men, that are or
shall be, in their perfections, loving him with
the utmost extent of their souls, do not alto-
gether make up so much love as he deserves.
Yet he is pleased to require our heart, and
the love we have to bestow on him ; and
though it is infinitely due of debt, yet he will
take it as a gift: Myson, give me thy heart.
Prov. xxiii. 26.
Therefore, the soul that begins to offer it-
self to him, although overwhelmed with the
sense of its own unworthiness and the mean-
ness of its love, yet may say, Lord, I am
ashamed of this gift, I bring thee, yet, be-
cause thou callest for it, such as it is, here it
is; the heart and all the love I have, I offer
unto thee, and had I ten thousand times
more, it should all be thine. As much as I
can, I love thee, and I desire to be able to:
love thee more. Although I am unworthy to
be admitted to love, yet, thou art most wor-
thy to be loved by me, and besides, thou dost
* Modus est nescire modum, subtiliūs ista distin-
guere facile est magis quâm solidum.
71
562
[SER. XXX.
THE LAW WRITTEN UPON THE HEART.
allow, yea, commandest me to love thee. My
loving of thee adds nothing to thee, but it
makes me happy; and though it be true, the
love and the heart I offer thee, is infinitely
too little for thee, yet there is nothing, be-
sides thee, enough for it.
The Lord, or Jehovah, thy God..] There lie
the two great reasons of love, rå Öyannrov and
rö ididy—Jehovah, the Spring of being and
goodness, infinitely lovely ; all the beauty
and excellencies of the creatures, are but a
drop of that ocean :-and, Thy God, to all of
us the Author of our life, and of all that we
enjoy ; who spread forth those heavens that
roll about us and comfort us with their light,
and motions, and influences, and established
this earth that sustains us; who furnisheth
us with food and raiment, and in a word (and
it is the apostle's, Acts xvii. 25), who gives
ws, Šajiv kai rvojv kai rā trävra, life, and breath,
and all things ; and, to the believer, his God
in a nearer propriety, by redemption and pe-
culiar covenant. But our misery is, the most
of us do not study and consider him, what he
is in himself and what to us; and therefore
we do not love him, because we know him
In Ot.
And thy neighbor as thyself.] If we will
not confess and suspect ourselves, how much
we are wanting in the former, yet our mani-
fest defect in this latter will discover it.
Therefore, the apostle, Rom. xiii. 10, speaks
of this as all, because, though inferior to the
other, yet connected with it, and the surest
sign of it. For these live and die, together.
The apostle St. John is express in it, and
gives those hypocrites the lie plainly: If any
man say, I love God, and hateth his brother,
he is a liar. 1 John iv. 20. We have no real
way of expressing our love to God, but in our
converse with men and in the works of love
toward them.
Certainly, that sweet affection of love to
'God, can not consist with malice and bitter-
ness of spirit against our brethren. No, it
'sweetens and calms the soul, and makes it all
love every way.
As thyself.] As truly both wishing and, to
thy power, procuring his good, as thy own.
Consider how much unwilling thou art to
be injured or defamed, and have the same
thoughts for thy brother; be as tender for
him. But how few of us aspire to this de-
gree of charity
Thy very enemies are not here excluded.
If self-love be still predominant in thee, in-
stead of the love of God, then thou wilt make
thine own interest the rule of thy love; so
when thou art, or conceivest thou art, wronged
by any one, the reason of thy love ceaseth.
But if thou love for God, that reason abides
still.” God hath commanded me to love my
enemies, and he gives me his example; he
does good to the wicked who offend him.
And this is indeed a trial of our love to God.
* Amicus diligendus in Deo, et inimicus propter
Deur. [Augustin.E.]
One hath marred thee; that gives thee to
think that thou hast no cause to love him for
thyself; be it so, self-love forbids thee, but the
love of God commands thee to love him. God
says, If thou lovest me, love him for my sake.
And if thy love to God be sincere, thou wilt
be glad of the occasion to give so good a tes-
timony of it, and find a pleasure in that which
others account so difficult and painful.
SERMON XXX.
THE LAW WRITTEN UPON THE HEART,
HEBREws viii. 10.
For this is the covenant that I will make with the
house of Israel after those days, saith the Lord ; I
will put my laws into their mind, and write them in
their hearts; and I will be to them a God, and they
shall be to me a people.
THE two great evils that perplex sensible
minds, are, the guiltiness of sin, and the
power of it. Therefore, this new covenant
hath in it two promises opposite to these two
evils; free pardon to remove the guilt of sin,
and the subduing of its power by the law of
God written in the heart. Of this latter only
for the present. Having spoken somewhat
of the sense of the law in the ten command-
ments, and of the sum of it in two, this re-
mains to be considered as altogether neces-
sary for obedience, and without which, all
hearing and speaking, and all the knowledge
of it, will be fruitless. Though it be made
very clear and legible without, we shall only
read it, and not at all keep it, unless it be
likewise written within.
Observe, in the first place, the agreement
of the law with the gospel. The gospel
bears the complete fulfilling of the law, and
the satisfying of its highest exactness, in our
surety Jesus Christ, so that, in that way, noth-
ing is abated ; but besides, in reference to
ourselves, though it take off the rigor of it
from us, because answered by another for us,
yet it doth not abolish the rule of the law,
but establisheth it, Rom. iii. 31. It is so far
from tearing or blotting out the outward
copies of it, that it writes it anew, where it
was not before, even within, sets it upon the
heart in sure and deep characters. We see
this kind of writing of the law, is a promise
for the days of the gospel cited out of the
prophet Jeremiah, ch. xxxi. 33.
There is indeed no such writing of the law
in us, or keeping of it by us, as will hold good
for our justification in the sight of God; there-
fore, that other promise runs combined with
it, the free forgiveness of iniquity. But again,
there is no such forgiveness as sets a man
free to licentiousness and contempt of God’s
law, but, on the contrary, binds him more
strongly to obedience; therefore, to that.
sweet promise of the pardon of sin, is insepa-
rably joined this other of the inward writing
HEB. viii. 10.]
563
THE LAW WRITTEN UPON THE HEART.
of the law. The heart is not washed from
the guiltiness of sin in the blood of Christ,
that it may wallow and defile itself again in
the same puddle, but it is therefore washed,
that the tables or leaves of it may be clean,
for receiving the pure characters of that law
of God which is to be written on it.
Concerning this writing, there are three
things you may mark: 1. What it is. 2. What
is its necessity. 3. Who is its writer.
1. What it is. The writing of the law in
the heart, is briefly no other than the renew-
ing and sanctifying of the heart by the infu-
sion of grace, which is a heavenly light that
gives the soul to know God aright. And that
is added here, as the same with the writing
of the law in the heart, and an illustration of
it, They shall all know me, from the least of
them to the greatest. And this light bring-
eth heat with it.* That right knowledge of
God being in the soul, begets in it love to
him, and love is the same with the fulfilling
of the whole law. It takes up the whole
soul: I will put it in their mind, and write
it in their hearts. If we will distinguish
these, then it is, that they shall both know
it and love it. It shall not be written anew
in their heads, and go no deeper, but be
written in their hearts. But we may well
take both expressions for the whole soul; for
this kind of knowledge and love are insepa-
ble, and where the one is, the other can not
be wanting.
So, then, a supernatural, sanctified knowl-
edge of God, is the law of God, written in the
heart. When it comes and entertains him
as holy within it, then it hath not a dead let-
ter of the law written in it, but vépov špºpuxov,
the Lawgiver himself: his name and will are
engraven on it throughout, on every part of
it. All that they know of God shall not be
by mere report, and by the voice of others, but
they shall inwardly read and know him with-
in themselves. Which (by-the-by) makes
not the public teaching and work of the min-
istry superfluous to any, even to those who
know most of God, but signifies only this:
that all they that do indeed receive and be-
lieve the gospel, are inwardly enlightened by
the Spirit of God to understand the things of
God, and have not their knowledge on bare
trust of others who instruct them, without
any particular persuasion and light within,
but what they hear of spiritual things, they
shall understand and know after a spiritual
manner. And the universality of the promise
signifies, that this kind of knowledge should
be more frequently and more largely be-
stowed in the days of the gospel, than it was
before.
2. The necessity of writing the law on the
heart. Although there be in the natural con-
science of man, some dim characters of the
law, convincing him of grosser wickednesses,
and leaving him inexcusable, of which the
apostle speaks, Rom. ii. 15; yet, he is so far,
* Lux est vehiculum caloris.
naturally, from the right knowledge of God
and the love of his whole law, that, instead
of that knowledge, his mind is full of dark-
ness, and, contrary to that love, his heart is
possessed with a natural enmity and antipa-
thy against the law of God. Eph. iv. iS;
Rom. viii. 7. There is a law within him di-
rectly opposite, which the apostle calls the
law of sin, Rom. vii. 23; sin ruling and com-
manding the heart and whole man, making
laws at its pleasure,” and obtaining full obe-
dience. Therefore, of necessity, before a man
can be brought to obey the holy law of God,
the inward frame of his heart must be
changed, the corrupt law of sin must be ab-
rogated, and the soul must renounce obedi-
ence to it, and give itself up wholly [s's rômov],
to receive the stamp and impression of the
law of God ; and then, having it written with-
in upon his heart, his actions will bear the
resemblance, and be conformable unto it.
In this promise which God makes to his
people, he hath regard to the nature of that
obedience which he requires. Because he
will have it sincere and cordial, therefore he
puts a living principle of it within, writes his
law in the heart, and then it is, in the words
and actions, derived thence, and is more in
the heart than in them. The first copy is in
the heart, and all the other powers and parts
of a man follow that, and so, by that means,
as it is sincere, so it is universal. The heart
is that which commands all the rest; and, as
the vital spirits flow from it to the whole
body, thus, the law of God, being written in
it, is diffused through the whole man. It
might be in the memory, or in the tongue,
and not in the rest; but put it in the heart,
and then it is undoubtedly in all.
Its being written in the heart, makes
the obedience likewise universal in the ob-
ject, as they speak, in respect to the whole
law of God. When it is written only with-
Out a man, he may read one part and pass
over another, may possibly choose to conform
to some part of the law, and leave the rest;
but when the full copy of it is written in his
heart, then it is all one law. And as in itself
it is inseparable, as St. James teacheth us,
James ii. 10, so it is likewise in his esteem
and affection and endeavor of obedience : he
hath regard unto all the commandments as
one. Because of his love to the law of God,
he hates, not only some, but every false way,
as David speaks, Psalm crix. 104. He that
looks on the law without him, will possibly
forbear to break it while others look upon
him; his obedience lies much in the behold-
er's eye; but he that hath the law written
within, can not choose but regard it as much
in secret as in public. Although his sin
might be hid from the knowledge and cen-
sure of men, yet still it were violence dome to
that pure law that is within his breast, and
therefore he hates it alike as if it were public.
This is the constant enemy of all sin, this liv
* Tolerabis iniquas interias leges,
564
[SER. XXXI.
GOD’S END AND DESIGN IN AFFLICTION.
within him. Psalm crix. 11 : 1 have hid thy
law in my heart, says David, that I might not
sin against thee. It makes a man abate
nothing of his course of obedience and holi-
ness because unseen, but like the sun that
keeps on its motion when it is clouded from
our eyes, as well as when we see it.
In a word, this writing of the law in the
heart, makes obedience a natural motion, I
mean, by a new nature : it springs not from
outward constraints and respects, but from an
inward principle, and therefore, not only is it
universal and constant, but cheerful and easy.
The law, only written in tables of stone, is
hard and grievous; but make once the heart
the table of it, and then there is nothing more
pleasing. This law of God makes service
delightful, even the painfullest of it. Psalm
xl. 8: I delight to do thy will, O my God ;
3/ea, thy law is within my heart. The sun
which moves with such wonderful swiftness,
that to the ignorant it would seem incredible
to hear how many thousands of miles it goes
each hour, yet because it is naturally fitted
for that course, it comes, as the psalmist
speaks, like a bridegroom forth of his cham-
ber, and rejoices, as a strong man, to run a
race. Psalm xix. 5. If the natural man be
convinced of the goodness and equity of the
law of God, yet, because it is not written
within, but only commands without, it is a
violent motion to him to obey it, and there-
fore he finds it a painful yoke. But here
David, in whose heart it was, speaks of it:
how often doth he call it his delight and his
109 .
If any profane persons object to a godly
man his exact life, that it is too precise, as if
he wrote each action before he did it, he may
answer, as Demosthenes did to him that ob-
jected he wrote his orations before he spake
them, that he was not at all ashamed of that,
although they were not only written, but en-
graven beforehand. Certainly, the godly man
lives by this law which is written and en-
graved on his heart, and he needs not be
ashamed of it.
It is true, the renewed man, even he that
hath this law deepest written in his heart,
yet, while he lives here, is still molested with
that inbred Antinomian, that law of sin that
yet dwells in his flesh: though the force and
power of it is broken, and its law repealed in
his conversion, and this new pure law placed
in its stead, yet because that part which is
flesh in him, still entertains and harbors it
there, it creates and breeds a Christian daily
vexation. Because sin hath lost dominion,
it is still practising rebellion against that
spiritual kingdom and law that is established
in the regenerate mind: as a man that hath
once been in possession of rule, though usurp-
ed, yet, being subdued, he is still working in
that kingdom to turbulent practices. But
though by this (as the apostle was, Rom. vii.
: every godly man is often driven to sad per-
plexities and complaints, yet in this in his
comfort ; that law of his God written here,
hath his heart and affection. Sin is dethron-
ed and thrust out of his heart, and hath only
a usurped abode within him against his will.
He sides with the law of God, and fights with
all his power for it against the other. That
holy law is his delight, and this law of sin his
greatest grief.
3. The writer : I will write. The Lord
promises himself to do this, and it is indeed
his prerogative. He wrote it at first on tables
of stone, and this spiritual engraving of it on
the heart, is much more peculiarly his. Other
men might afterward engrave it on stone, but
no man can at all write it on the heart, not
upon his own, much less upon another's.
Upon his own he can not, for it is naturally
taken up and possessed with that contrary
law of sin (as we said before), and is willing-
ly subject to it, loves that law, and therefore,
in that posture, it neither can nor will work
this change upon itself to dispossess that law
which it loves, and bring in that which it
hates. No man can write this law on the
heart of another, for it is inaccessible : his
hand can not reach it, he can not come at it :
how then shall he write anything on it 3
Men, in the ministry of the word, can but
stand and call without : they can not speak to
within, far less, write anything within.
Though they speak never so excellently and
spiritually, and express nothing but what is
written on their own hearts (and certainly,
that is the most powerful way of speaking,
and the likeliest for making an impression on
the heart of another), yet, unless the hand of
God's own Spirit carry it into the hearer’s
heart, and set on the stamp of it there, it will
perish as a sound in the air, and effect noth-
ing.” Let this ever be acknowledged to his
glory. . The voice of men may beat the ear,
but only he who made the heart, can work
upon it, and change and mould it as it pleaseth
him. This is his own promise, and he alone
makes it good. He writes his law on the
hearts of his children, and by this work of
his grace prepares them for glory. They who
have this law written in their hearts, their
* are certainly written in the book of
łife.
•=-m-
SERMION XXXI.
GOD’s END AND DESIGN IN AFFLICTION.
Hose A v. 15.
I will go and return to my place, till they acknowl-
edge their offence, and seek my face : in their
it. they will seek me early.
THERE is nothing we more hardly learn,
and whereof we have more need to be taught,
than to judge aright concerning our own deal-
* Sonus verborum nostrorum aures percutit, magis-
ter intus. Nolite putare quenquam hominem aliquid
discere ab alio homine: admonere possumus per
strepitum vocis nostrae, si non est intus qui doceat
inanis strepitus est noster. [AUGUSTINE.]
Hos. v. 15.]
565
GOD'S END AND DESIGN IN AFFI,ICTION.
ing with God, and God’s dealing with us; to
know and acknowledge the perverseness and
folly of our own ways, and the wisdom and
goodness of his ways. Therefore, the ser-
mons of the prophets insist much on this, to
convince the people of God, to whom they
were sent, of both these ; and by this to per-
suade them to repentance. This is evidently
here the prophet's aim. The whole chapter,
with the following, contains a pathetic re-
monstrance of God’s just quarrel with his
people, aggravated by much long-suffering and
lenity, and many warnings, verbal and real,
on his part, and much stubbornness, impeni-
tence, and multiplied provocation on theirs;
he using all means to reclaim and save them,
and they using all means to despise him and
ruin themselves. The plea is against both
the kingdoms of Israel and Judah.
In these words we have the Lord, after
much reasoning and trial of milder ways,
which prevailed not with them, concluding
upon a severe course, as being found necessa-
ry, and such as would be more effectual for
iheir conversion. The words contain these
three things: I. The procuring cause of God's
afflicting his people... II. His way of afflicting
them. III. The end of it.
I. The procuring cause is made up of these
two, sin and impenitence. I will go till they
acknowledge their offences. So that, if they
had not committed those provoking sins, or,
having committed them, had humbly ac-
knowledged or repented of them, this labor
of afflicting them had been saved ; but these
sins once committed and often repeated, and
their being not so much as once acknowl-
edged, and all this by God's own peculiar
people, can not but draw on heavy afflictions.
1st. We may see how unwilling God is to
afflict his people. Judgments are termed his
strange work, but mercy is his darling attri-
bute. When God exercises punitive acts
against his people, the Scripture represents,
as it were, a kind of reluctance and struggling
in his bowels. Hos. xi. 8. How shall I smile
thee, O Ephraim 2 and how shall I give thee
up, O Manasseh & My repentings are begun
already. He delights in their prosperity, and
hath given them a rule, by which, if they
walk, peace shall be upon them. He hath
made them laws, the observance of which
will bring heaps of blessings upon them ; as
we find what a multitude of favors attended
it, Levit. xxvi. 4–12. I will give you rain in
due season ; and a little after, I will give you
peace in the land, and ye shall lie down, and
none shall make you afraid. I will walk
among you, I will be your God, and ye shall
be my people. So, also, Deut. xxvii. 1–12.
But those laws not being observed, then it is
said, ver. 24, &c., The Lord shall make the
rain of thy land powder and dust ; the Lord
shall cause thee to be smitten before thine ene-
mies, &c. But what is all that when opposed
to the affliction here threatened, of God's
withdrawing himself? I will go and return
to my place, till they acknowledge their offence.
He will not leave them, unless they drive him
away ; yea, and he is even then loath to leave
them, and grieved that they are such enemies
to themselves, and will not be persuaded to
be better advised.
2dly. We see where the true blame of the
many sufferings and miseries of the church is
to be found. The abounding of sin, and the
want of repentance, these make her troubles
to abound. If God's own people would take
his counsel, it would be well for them ; either
his first counsel of obedience, or his after
counsel of repentance. When they are run-
ning from him, he calls after them, Return,
return, O backsliding Israel, why will ye die &
Thou hast destroyed thyself, says the Lord
by the same prophet, but in me is thy help to
be found. Hos. xiii. 9. His counsel and ways
would be peace, but their afflictions and sharp
punishments are the fruit of their own ways;
bitter fruit and wormwood, a root of bitter-
ness. Prov. v. 4; Jer. ii. 19. Doth not the
preaching of the word, and particularly the
doctrine of repentance, sufficiently witness
for God, and against his people, when their
rebellion brings calamities upon them 3 The
often-repeated warnings and entreaties, even
to those who have often slighted and despised
them, show how unwillingly he afflicts us.
He does not surprise them, without warnings
multiplied one upon another. Before he
would proceed to treat them as enemies, to
hew and slay them with the sword, he uses
his messengers of peace to deal first with the
word, sharply indeed, but graciously ;—that
sword of the Spirit which kills to make alive;
to spare, if it might be, the destroying sword
of the enemy. I have hewn them by my proph-
ets (Hos. vi. 5), and if that would have served
their turn, the other hewing and slaying should
not have followed. A wise enemy who is re-
solved to be avenged, conceals his rage till it
be accomplished, and does not threaten before
he strikes, but makes the execution of his
purpose the first revealing of it. Therefore,
we may know that God, who doth all things
most wisely, intends favor, in threatening;
denounces indignation that he may be inter-
rupted. . Not to inflict it, that is his desire.
He would gladly have us stay his hand. . An
humble penitent acknowledgment will do it.
“Miniatur me cadat, cadit ne occidat,” says
Chrysostom. He threatens that he may not
strike, and strikes that he may not destroy.
If speaking either mildly or sharply, will pre-
vaiſ with his children, he will not stir the rod
to them: and when the rod is in his hand, if
showing or shaking it will serve the turn, he
will not strike with it. But this is our folly
that usually we abuse all this goodness, and
will not part with our sins, till we smart for
them, and be beaten from them. We pull
punishment out of God's hand; as Solomon
says, The fool's mouth, calleth for strokes.
Prov. xviii. 6. When these indulgent ways
that the Lord uses, avail nothing, then as a
566
[SER. XXXI.
GOD’S END AND DESIGN IN AFFLICTION.
physician wearied in striving with lenitives
and gentle medicines in a fixed, stubborn dis-
ease that yields not to them, it is no wonder
that he betake himself to sharper remedies,
and cut and burn, if need be, that he may
cure. The Lord's complaint, in the begin-
ning of the viith chapter of this prophecy,
sounds this way, When I would have healed
Ephraim. If it be thus, then, with the church
of God, that it is often found guilty of great
sins, and withal, great insensibleness and im-
penitence, it is no wonder that it is often found
under great and many afflictions. There be-
ing in the church, in such societies as profess
God's name, peculiar sins, such as are found
nowhere else, by reason of God's peculiar
covenant with them, and ordinances among
them ; viz., contempt of the ordinances, and
breach of the covenant ; and by the same
reason too, peculiar aggravations of the com-
mon sins, and ingredients of such things as
make the same sins that other people commit,
to be of a deeper die among God’s people;
their special relation to him, and the special
means and mercies they receive from him,
by which they they are both more instructed
and more obliged to obedience; these things
make the disobedience more heinous in itself,
and more offensive to God. He can not but
take it very ill to be disregarded by his own
Ka, op resvov–Thus the Lord makes a great
and loud complaint that all may hear, Isa. i.
2; calls heaven and earth to hear it, that he
had nourished and brought up children, and
they had rebelléd against him. What do we
deserve for our sins 2 Do not our oaths and
cursing, our pride and deceit, our wonderful
ignorance and profaneness, our formality,
hypocrisy, and, above all, our deep security,
threaten us with some heavy judgment 2
Which can not be avoided but by godly sor-
row and earnest prayer, by the most humble
way of acknowledgment and real amendment.
This is our work this day; and unless we set
about it for ourselves, and pray for it to the
whole kingdom, we know not what we are
doing. We can not do anything to purpose
on behalf of the church of God, nor be fit sup-
plicants for its deliverance, while we return
ungodly ourselves.
II. God’s way of afflicting his people: I
will go and return to my place. The way
that he will afflict them, is indeed the heav-
iest, as conveyed in this expression ; as if
he should say, I will withdraw myself
from them, and will not appear to them at
all for a time, yea, a long time. Well may
it be rendered by affliction in the other clause,
for they shall be truly so when the Lord is
gone from them. Upon the withdrawing of
his gracious presence, as necessarily follows
affliction, as mist upon the setting of the sun.
This was heavier than all his corrections.
So long as they could but hear and see him
among them, although it were chiding, yea,
scourging them, yet, still there was this com-
fort, that they might speak to him as being
near them, and so, considering his merciful
nature, might have hope, by their complaints
and cries in his presence, to move him to
compassionate and spare them, and be recon-
ciled. But when he was out of sight and
quite gone from them, and so could neither
hear nor see them in their misery, this was
indeed the chief misery, worse than all that
they could suffer in other punishments. In
the preceding verses, he threatens to be as a
moth to them, consuming them, though more
slowly and insensibly; which was by lesser
judgments that befell these kingdoms, as
the history of them shows: then, as a lion,
devouring more suddenly : but the grada-
tion rises to the highest in this last, though
to an ignorant creature it sounds least: I will
return to my place. I will retire my favora-
ble presence from them, and shut up all the
influences and evidences of my grace. Which,
in a public national sense (as here it is to be
taken), imports not only longer and more
grievous troubles than any which before had
befallen them (as indeed they were), but
God’s leaving of them in those troubles, and
not giving as before, any sign of his merciful
presence. As if God should say, I will give
them up to those miseries that are to come
upon them, and leave them to themselves and
to their cruel enemies, and will take no no-
tice of them, until they know what a grievous
thing the want of my presence is, and how
hateful their sins are, that have deprived
them of it, and so be stirred up to seek my
face ;-they would not regard me, either in
my word or in my works, whether of mercy
or of judgment, so long as I stayed with them,
was present among them :—that so I may
teach them to know what is the good of my
presence, by the evil of my absence, which is
a heavier judgment than all I have yet in-
flicted on them.
And as it is thus in relation to the public
condition of the church, so is it, in a person-
al and more spiritual sense, to a child of God.
No evil he fears so much, or feels so heavy,
as God’s absenting and withdrawing himself
in displeasure; nor is there any good that he
will admit to be compared with the light of
God's countenance. Letothers seek any good,
let them have any good they can, but, says
David, for himself and all the godly, the good
we seek is this and no other, Lord, lift upon
us the light of thy countenance. Psalm iv.
6. He can hear of any distress with courage
and resolution, but this he can not endure to
hear of, but deprecates it, Hide not thy face
from thy servant. A godly man may, in the
most prosperous condition, have much con-
cern if the face of God be hid from him.
That is his great affliction, as it is here call-
ed. There needs nothing else to damp all
his prosperity. Thou didst hide thy face, and
and I was troubled. Psalm xxx. 7. Even in
prosperity, riches and power, and other such
poor things, do not answer the desires of a
soul acquainted with God: all these are
Hos. v. 15.]
567
GOD’S END AND DESIGN IN AFFLICTION.
no hing without his favor shining on them:
no, nor the graces which are within them,
which are far more precious than all outward
things. The displeased withdrawing of God’s
countenance, makes a sad night amid all
these ; as when the sun is absent, it is night
still, notwithstanding all the stars. Although
God lay outward affliction on them, yet, if he
enlighten them, though in a dungeon, they
can rejoice. Yea, when they are inwardly
troubled for sin, and God is rebuking them
that way, yet, that is not so bad as when he
leaves them and returns to his place. This
is more grievous than when he chides and re-
bukes them, which he may do, and yet, not
in hot displeasure, as David teaches us to dis-
tinguish it, Psalm vi. 1. It is a more com-
fortable condition, that he stay with them,
and that he reprove them when they sin
(yea, that is a mercy), than that he leave
them, and speak not to them, nor suffer them
to speak to him. They would then desire
rather to find him present though correcting ;
for then, by speaking to him, they may ex-
press their repentance and requests to him for
pardon. They would say to God, Strike me,
but hear me, rather than be struck out from
all intercourse with him, and he hold them
as his enemies. And thus God may some-
times deal with his own, and particularly for
some notable offence, until they be duly hum-
bled and brought to a lowly acknowledg-
ment, and so, to seek his face again; to see
if they will be loath to grieve him again.
Though we all profess to know God, yet,
the greatest part of us are so far from duly
esteeming him, that we do not at all know
what the spiritual, gracious presence of God
is ; how sweet the enjoyment, and how bit-
ter and sad the deprivenent. Oh, be desi-
rous to understand and know this highest
good, and, above all things, seek to enjoy it !
And without doubt, the experience of it will
persuade you to prize it and entertain it care-
fully ; never willingly to grieve and drive
away so great and so good a guest, who brings
true happiness along with him to those with
whom he dwells. There is solid peace, and
there only, where he is. And for the church
of God, what other thing can we, yea, what
need we desire but this, as the assured help
of all her distresses and sorrows, that God
would return his gracious presence to her
again 2 Then shall her enemies be turned
backward, and she shall sing and rejoice in
the God of her salvation. You see, this is
the church's own prayer, Psalm lxxx. 3.; she
desires no more than this, Cause thy face to
shine; and we shall be safe. That is the only
sun which chases away the mist of her griefs
and troubles. So then, the ending of these
confusions we are lying and laboring under,
is wrapped up in this ; that the presence of
our God be both entreated and obtained.
This would make a sweet union of hearts,
and make all attempts prosperous, and strike
a terror into the church's enemies. But if
their Rock forsake them, they were never so
surely supported with other advantages, yet
shall they sink and fall. If he go to his place,
and shut up his power and wisdom from their
help, and leave them with themselves, this
shall suffice to undo them, without any ene-
my. It was sad news, not only to Moses,
but to the whole people, Exod. xxxiii. 3.;
notwithstanding they were bent to provoke
him to do so, it was very grievous for them
to hear, that he had refused them his own
guidance, and would withdraw himself from
them, although it was with the promise of an
angel to lead them ; for little can any possi-
ble supply be made by any creature to make
up that loss. It was indeed high time for
them to put off their ornaments, and be hum-
bled, when their great Ornament and their
great Strength, was gone from them in dis-
pleasure. Then they put off their garbs of
war, and appeared in the penitential dress of
sackcloth and ashes.
III. The end of God's thus afflicting his
people. And we have these two things to
consider in it, both here clearly expressed :
1st, God intention in the means; secondly,
The power of these means for effecting it.
I will go till they acknowledge their offences,
and seek my face, and, in the time of my ab-
sence, which will certainly be the time of
their heaviest affliction, they will seek me
early.
1. This is God's end in scourging his peo-
ple; it is only to bring them to a sorrow for
their offences, and an ingenuous confession of
it. And if he withdraw himself, it is not to
leave them for ever and look at them no
more. On the contrary, it is, that they may
learn whether it is better to enjoy him, or
their sins; and that, finding themselves mise-
rable without him, they may leave those sins
with which he will not dwell, and may come
and entreat his return to them ; which he is
willing, being entreated, to grant them. And
this he removes from them, that, on their re-
turn to him, and their earnest and humble
seeking of his return to them, they may find
him, and enjoy more of his presence than be-
fore, and learn to keep it better. He throws
his people into the furnace, and goes away,
and leaves them there; yet, it is not to let them
lie still there, but he is skilful in this work,
and knows the time needful for their refining,
and them returns and takes them out. His
purpose is, to purge away the dross, but he
will not lose the gold. Isa. xxvii. 9. By this
shall the whiquity of Jacob be purged, and this
will serve to take away his sin. As that sin
was the meriting cause of the affliction, it
clears God's justice ; the end he aims at,
when he declares his graciousness and mer-
cy to his people, being no other than this, to
destroy the meriting cause of the affliction, by
their trouble; to take away that sin which
procured it, and then to give them peace.
That is his design. He takes no pleasure in
their affliction for itself, more than they them-
568
[SER. XXXI.
GOD'S END AND DESIGN IN AFFLICTION.
selves do. Indeed, in punishing his enemies,
there is pure justice: their punishments are
not for a better end, so far as concerns them,
but are appointed to torment them. But to
his own people, his purpose is, by afflicting
them, only to draw from them their sins,
which drive him away from them. And as
we see in this the bounty of God, so it in-
structs us, for our own practice, in the just
way both of preventing trouble to ourselves
that it come not, and of removing it if it be
come upon us. Is this the thing God seeks
in punishing us, a sense and acknowledg-
ment of sin committed ? Then, if we give
him his end, he will not at all needlessly
make use of the means. If, therefore, we
either carefully shun sinful provocations, or,
being guilty, speedily return and humble our-
selves before him, he will not enter into dis-
pleasure against us; he will be appeased
toward us. And on our seeing that which is
hisintentin punishing, before he begins to pun-
ish, he is very well pleased to be thus prevent-
ed. So then, if either we follow the advice
of the Psalmist, Psalm iv. 4, Stand in awe,
and sin not, or that other which follows, that
We earamine our hearts concerning sin, before
the decree of punishment go forth, or be put
in execution on our guiltiness, pronouncing
ourselves guilty (as the word is here in the
text), which is indeed acknowledging our of.
fences, this is the way to prevent it; and if
it be begun upon us, this is the ready way to
remove it, for this is the end of it. When the
Lord sees his children grieved for their of.
fences and entreating pardon, he is a ten-
der-hearted father, the very Father of mer-
cies. Those confessions and prayers that his
children utter, enter his paternal ears, the
rod falls out of his hand, and he turns his
stripes into embraces, and his frowns into
smiling. There may be, indeed, a confused
cry from the sense of the smart, without re-
pentance, that moves him not. As he directs
parents in correcting a peevish child, Thou
shalt not spare for his crying (Prov. xix. 18),
so he himself doth not spare nor leave off for
that kind of crying. It is confession and sub-
mission that he seeks, not the howling and
complaining which nature draws from any
under sharp affliction. This the Lord com-
plains of in his people, by the same prophet.
Hos. vii. 14: They did not cry unto me with
their hearts: they only howled upon their
beds. A man that is upon the rack for ex-
torting confession, he will cry and roar when
he confesses nothing; but it is not that which
is sought of him, pain forces him to that ; it
is confession, and when he begins the least
Word of that, they presently stay and release
him. Thus it was with David, and he tells
it us, and distinguishes these two expressly,
Psalm xxxii. 3–5. He tells us of his roaring
under the hand of God, but that did no good:
he found no ease but that, so long as he kept
silence from this confession. But as soon as
he began, or did but offer at acknowledg-
ment, one word of confession, yea, the prom-
ise of it, brought him the release that a
whole day's roaring could not obtain. I roar-
ed all day long, but thou helpedst me not;
still Thine hand continued heavy upon me.
But I acknowledged my sin ; I said I would
confess my transgression, and thou forgavest
the iniquity of my sin. *
Now, to the end we might confess aright,
there must be a searching of our hearts for
our sins, and for some particular one or more
which God’s afflictions aim at. And, First,
if we can not easily find it out, consider the
nature of the affliction. Secondly, seek the
knowledge of it from God, who will readily,
when he corrects his children, tell them what
ſault it is. Thirdly, however, finding so
many, be sure to spare none of them, and
then ye can not but fall on the main one
which breedeth you trouble.
2. The other thing here concerning the
end of affliction, is the efficacy of the means
for reaching it. In their affliction they will
seek me early. It had.been early, in a wiser
sense, to have sought to him for a reconcile-
ment before the affliction ; but here it ex-
presses a most diligent seeking, according to
the original word: for things that men are
earnest upon, they will be early stirring to
set about. For besides that it is a certain
prophecy of what was to come to pass in
this people, it hath in it this general truth,
with which it agrees; to wit, the moral fit-
ness of great affliction to work this diligent
seeking of God, before neglected, and ac-
knowledgment of sin, before unfelt ; which
is expressed in the former clause. Together
with seeking his face, there must be the
sense and acknowledgment of sin. There is
no returning to him, but from it. In follow-
ing sin, we depart from God, and by forsa-
king it, we return to him. These are insep-
arable; they are but one motion. It was
their sin made him leave them, and go to
his place; and therefore it were in vain to
seek him, retaining it, for that would drive
him further from them.
Now affliction is apt to bring men to this;
such, I mean, as have any knowledge of God.
Although they be not converted, yet it works
them to a temporary fit of returning and seek-
ing God, such as they are capable of And
those make up the greatest part in the pub-
lic humblings of a nation, or any multitude
of people, having most of them no more heat
of devotion and desire of God, than the fit
of present affliction works; and therefore,
when that ceases, they have done likewise
with their repentance and regard of God.
Being stirred only by that outward principle,
they act no longer that way, than while they
are acted by it. Water will be very hot, yea,
boil and make a noise, when it is upon
the fire; but set it off, and it returns, within
a while, to its natural coldness. Thus it was
often with the same people. See Ps. lxxviii.
And there are still daily too many instances
ISA. viii. 17.]
569
SUITABLE EXERCISE IN AFFLICTION.
of it. Yet the Lord, to show how much re-
gard he hath to repentance, lets not the very
semblance of it go to loss. He is pleased, for
the repressing of sin, and the purging of his
church of gross and scandalous profaneness,
to make use of public afflictions to work in
many even this kind of repentance, and to
answer this repentance with the removal of
the affliction that wrought it. With God's
own children, this method holds in a way
peculiar to them. They may, indeed, as
well as others, sometimes stand in need of
the rod for their bettering, and it may work
it, but there is this difference: their grief for
sin and seeking after God, do not wholly de-
pend on the lash ; they are constant in these
things, as having a living principle within
them ; whence they show in all estates, that
sin is to them the greatest grief, and the fa-
vor of God the greatest good. Again, when
they are surprised with sin, and possibly fall
into a fit of security, and must be awaked by
some affliction, and it is sent for that pur-
pose, that renewing which it works in them,
is not, as in others, a mere present violent
motion only, from the impulse of the afflic-
tion, but it is real and inward from the grace
which is in them, awakened and only set on
work by the correction ; and therefore it is
more abiding than the other. There is in
them a special love to God, working their
repentings and returning under the sense of
his hand. And it is from God's special love
to them, which others share not in, that he
stirs them up to renew repentance, and upon
their repentance takes off affliction, and
shows himself graciously reconciled to them.
To some, likewise, it may be, that God may
use some particular cross, as a partial and
concurring means to the work of their re-
pentance and conversion to God. But how-
ever, there is in that some peculiar love of
God, and that effectual working of his word
and Spirit to beget grace in them, by which
afflictions are sanctioned and made useful to
excite and awaken grace where it is.
Now, in all these different ways, affliction
is apt for this effect; 1st. Because it sets men
in upon themselves, calls in their thoughts,
which, in a fair season, more readily dissi-
pate and scatter themselves abroad. As they
observe, that much light disqualifies the sight
of the mind, as well as that of the body, and
that, in the dark, men's thoughts are more
united and deep ; thus in the darkness of af.
fliction, we feel readily more inward, and
that acquaints us better with ourselves and
Our sins, and so, tends to the first of these
two, the acknowledging of our offences. Be-
sides, the particular respect we speak of, is
often between the kind of affliction and our
own sins.
2dly. When a man is driven by force from
the comforts of the world, which he used to
hinge upon, especially by some great afflic-
tion which breaks him off from them all, then,
if he have any thoughts concerning God,
those begin to work with him. He bethinks
himself for no other way of help, but thinks,
Could I obtain the Lord to befriend me, and
show me his favor, that were enough. He
could deliver me out of this distress, and in
the meantime support me under it. True, I
have provoked him, and, which is heavier
than all my other troubles, I have made him
mine enemy; yet, I know he is very compas-
sionate and gracious, therefore I will go to
him, and confess my offence, and I, trust he
will pardon me. This is the other thing, the
seeking of his face. So affliction hath some-
thing in it suitable to the work of both. As
we see the lost son by his distress came to
himself, and then resolved to return to his
father. Indeed, when a man is straitened on
all hands by a crowd of troubles, and finds
no way out, then he finds his only way is
upward. We know not what to do, but our
eyes are toward thee. The Israelites went
before to other helpers; they are reproved
for it, ver. 13; but when once convinced of
that folly, no more of any such way, but, as
follows in the next words containing a de-
scription of their purposes, Come, let us re-
turn to the Lord our God, they acknowledge
him as the just inflicter of these calamities:
He hath torn, and he hath smitten. Not a
word of Salmamazer or Nebuchadnezzar, but
their offended God is their smiter, and so no
recourse to other powers for this deliverance,
but, Let us return to him ; he will heal us.
Oh then, let us all be persuaded to repent-
ance. And certainly all they who do truly
mind the honor of God, and the good of his
church, will not be negligent at such a time
as this. I trust that God who heareth prayer,
will have regard to their prayers and his own
glory. Amen.
SERMION XXXII.
SUITABLE EXERCISE IN AFFLICTION,
ISAIAH viii. 17.
And I will wait upon the Lord, that hideth his face
from the house of Jacob, and I will look for him.
BESIDEs the personal trials and sorrows
that are the lot of the godly in this life, ev-
ery one of them hath a share in the calami-
ties and troubles of the church ; not only
when some part of these troubles reaches
them, for so they are personal and private,
but, in the remotest and most exempted con-
dition, there is a living sympathy which this
can not divest. And for both their own and
Zion's griefs, they have but one support to
stay their own souls from fainting under the
burden of them, but it is a great one, and
strong enough to bear all the weight that
can be laid upon it. And it is this the proph-
et here resolves on. I will wait upon the
Lord, and I will look for him.
72
570
[SER. XXXII,
SUITABLE EXERCISE IN AFFLICTION.
Among the many sins that the prophets
had to contend with in the people, one, and
and a main one, was, their unbelief, which
indeed is the root of all disobedience and
perverseness. The very natural motion of
the heart possessed with it, being, as the
apostle speaks, to depart from the living
God, and to turn it aside to dead, helpless
helpers, makes it run to and confide in any-
thing rather than in him, besides whom
there is nothing at all to be confided in. To
this folly, the prophet here opposes God's
command and his own resolution contrary to
it : ver, 11. For the Lord spake thus to me,
and this was the echo of his voice, resound-
ing from my heart, I will wait. And this he
speaks not only for himself, but in the name
of all that will adhere to it, and subscribe to
his purpose ; and he intends it as a leading
resolution to the godly both in his own and
after times. And it is here upon record for
us, as the truest character of faith, and the
only establishment of the mind in the days
of trouble.
And this is the most powerful way of
teaching, when the messengers of God teach,
by their own example, those duties they rec-
ommend to others. The Lord spake thus to
me, with a strong hand : not only with the
words of his mouth, but with the strength
of his hand, he makes the impression of it
deep upon their hearts, that the expression
of it may come from that inward impression
and persuasion of the truth. And that will
indeed bind a man strongly (as the word sig-
nifies) to the discharge of that high calling,
notwithstanding all his discouragements from
within and from without, which are so ma-
ny, that they who have most sense of the
nature of it, would possibly undo themselves,
were it not the strong hand of God upon
their consciences, that binds them to it.
In the words we have to consider, 1st, The
trial of faith. 2dly, The strength of it. The
trial of it is in the hiding of God's face from
the house of Jacob. The strength of it is in
that fixed purpose of waiting for him, even
in that time of hiding his face.
Who hideth his face.] To a natural ear,
this soundeth not so much as fire, and sword,
and pestilence, and captivity ; but, being
rightly understood, it is the heaviest word,
and very far weighs down all other expres-
sions of distress whatsoever. It is a very
large, comprehensive word. All the good
that we enjoy in any kind, is but a beam of
the face of God; and therefore, the hiding
of his face, is a high expression of a dark,
afflicted state. The countenance of God shi-
ning on them in his universal providence and
goodness, is that which upholds the world
and all the creatures in their being : the least
of them subsists by him, and the greatest
can not subsist without him. So that the
schools say truly, “There is in the lowest,
aliquid Dei, and in the highest, aliquid nihi-
li.” He shines upon all in that sense, pre-
serving them in being, which otherwise
would not continue for a moment; as it is
excellently expressed, Psalm civ. 29, and
particularly concerning man, Psalm xc. 3;
Job xxxiv. 13–15.
But the church of God, which we have
here under the name of the house of Jacob,
doth after an especial manner depend upon
a special aspect of his countenance for her
being and well-being. Her outward peace
and prosperity, with all the blessings that
she enjoys, are fruits of a more than ordina-
ry providence. And there are blessings in
their nature not ordinary, but peculiar to the
church, which have more of the face of God
in them than all outward splendor of pros-
perity hath, and therefore are the special
love-tokens he bestows upon his spouse, the
church, and by which he testifies his mar-
riage with her. And that is the being of a
church, the oracles and ordinances wherein
God manifests himself to his church, makes
himself known there as by his face, which is
hid from the rest of the world. And though,
in comparison of the vision of glory, the
clearest, even extraordinary manifestations
of God, are but as a glance of his back parts
(as that of Moses, which was singular), yet,
in such a sense as suits our present condition,
we are said to appear before the Lord, and to
stand in his presence, and to see his face, and
the beauty of it, in his house and ordinances.
Psalm xlii. 2; xxvii. 4, &c.
It is true, that the outward distresses of the
church and people of God are sometimes ex-
pressed by the hiding of his face from them,
and so it is a part of what he means here;
but it is not all the sense of it anywhere, but
it is a word of their affliction, carrying a re-
flection upon their sin that provoked the Lord
to afflict them, and so, implies his just anger
kindled by these provocations. And it hath
usually the ingredients of spiritual judgments
under it, either the depriving them of God’s
ordinances in their use, or of the power and
efficacy of them (as was at this time, we see,
the prophet's complaint), and possibly a great
measure of that heavy judgment upon the
people, of blindness of mind and hardness of
heart, a stupid senselessless under their ca-
lamities, which is one of the most certain and
the saddest signs of their continuance. And
this is the prophet's meaning in this place.
For without these, or something like them, a
church may be in real affliction, and yet, not
under the eclipse of God’s face for all that.
Yea, possibly it may shine clearer on the
church in a time of outward trouble, than in
the midst of peaceable and prosperous days:
as the moon, when it is dark toward the
earth, then the half that is toward heaven is
all luminous, and, on the contrary, when it is
the full to our view, it is dark heavenward.
We see it in the common instance of the prim-
itive times, how the gold shined in the fur-
nace, how holiness and purity of religion
flourished and spread in the midst of perse-
IsA. viii. 17.]
571
SUITABLE EXERCISE IN AFFLICTION.
cutions, and zeal for God burnt brighter than
the fires that were kindled against it, and tri-
umphed over them ; and soon after they were
put out, how it began to cool and abate, and
the purity of religion insensibly died into num-
bers of superstitious and gaudy devices; and
the church grew downward, outwardly more
pompous, but lost as much for that of integri-
ty of doctrine and worship. And therefore,
in the twelfth chapter of Revelation, there
is a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon
under her feet, as full of heavenly ornaments
as she is destitute of, and withal despises,
those of the earth. And look, again, to the
eighteenth chapter, and see a woman clothed
in purple, and decked with gold and precious
stones, and a golden cup in her hand, but her-
self, under all these dressings, a harlot, and
her golden cup full of abominable filthiness.
So, then, doubtless, the hiding of God's face
from his church, is something beyond her out-
ward lowness and affliction, and greater and
heavier than that ; the withdrawing of his
presence, and his not appearing for their de-
liverance out of trouble, and their spiritual
comfort and benefit under it.
1st. Now, as that is put for the top of all
distresses, we should esteem it so. But in
reference to ourselves, and to the church of
God, I am afraid a great part of us do not
know what it is to have this light. If we did,
there needed no more urging it; itself would
persuade us enough to prize it, and to fear
the loss of it. The soul that knows the
sweetness of his presence and his face shining
on it, will account no place nor condition
hard, provided it may be refreshed with that:
as the Saints have been in caves and dungeons
enjoying more of that light in those times,
when other comforts have been abridged.
Then they have had a beam from heaven
into their souls in their darkest dungeon, far
more worth than the light of the sun and all
the advantages the world can afford. The
rabbin who lived twelve years in a dungeon
in Francis's time, called a book he wrote,
“The Polar Splendor;” implying that he had
then seen most intellectual light when he had
seen least sensible light. And thus it is with
many Christians, in the darkness of distress;
if they seek after this light, they may blame
themselves and their own neglect if they find
not somewhat of this truth. On the other
hand, to a spiritual mind, this hiding of God's
face will damp and distress the pleasantest
outward condition which can be allotted him.
It was in the midst of David’s prosperity,
enough to unseason all: Thou didst hide thy
face, and I was troubled. Psalm xxx. 7.
Now, if we would have the Lord, to whom
believing souls are married in truth and righ-
teousness, to look pleasantly on us, our great
ambition should be, to walk in all well pleas-
ing unto him, and to seek of himself those or-
naments and that spiritual beauty which may
make us lovely in his eyes; as a faithful wife
decketh herself only for her husband. For
all these inferior things are but figures of that
mysterious life of grace which the soul hath
from God, and by which it lives in him.
There are some singular largesses and outlets
of spiritual joy which God gives not to every
Christian, nor to any at all times. These we
speak not of. But if we would enjoy more
abiding influences of his love, and find him
accepting of our services at our hands, and
measuring his graces to us, coming to us,
and giving us access to come to him, putting
a life and blessing into his ordinances, though
with different degrees at divers times; then
our care should be, to entertain this friend-
ship and correspondence diligently, to watch
over our hearts and ways, that we admit of
nothing that may disturb or interrupt it, and
to be jealous of the least abatement; to search
and find out the cause of it without delay.
And if we do thus, we shall undoubtedly find
the Lord willing to converse and dwell with
us; and though he give us lower measures of
comfort and graces than others get, they shall
be so much as will enable us to go on in our
journey. Above all, study humility. The
high Lord loves to give himself and his socie-
ty most to the lowly heart. , Trust not at all
to thyself, nor to anything below him. Lay
all thy confidence upon his power and good-
mess. Ye see here, that it was the multitude
of sins that eclipsed his face from his own
people, the house of Jacob ; as he tells them
by this prophet, chap. lix. 1. It was particu-
larly their distrust of God, and running to
other helps beside him. Ever, the more he
is in thy esteem, the more thou shalt have of
him ; and the more thou believest his all-suf-
ficiency, the more thou shalt find it and know
it in thine own experience. Yea, it may be
that when his face is hid from the church, in
respect of public distress and desertion, yet,
it may even then shine bright upon a soul that
secretly cleaveth to him and delights in him.
So here, the prophet says not that he hides
his face from me, but, from the house of
Jacob.
2dly. As for the church, learn by the proph-
et and other penmen of the Holy Scriptures, to
eye and consider the estate of God's church ;
to take notice how he deals with it when he
shines on it and when he hides his face, and
be deeply affected with it. Let thine eye be
looking out, and let thine eye affect thy heart,
as it is, Lam. iii. 51. Far be it from thee, to
judge it any impertinence, and think it con-
cerns thee not. Truly most of us have both
eyes, and if we had twenty more, we should
have them all poring upon our private condi-
tion. Providing we might have ease and
good days, we should feel little for the afflic-
tions of Joseph. It were not excusable, if
even our secret devotions took us up so as to
forget the church ; how much less excusable,
to have our hearts engrossed wholly by our
earthly concerns ! And we see here what it
is we have to do on the church's behalf: to
bewail her sins, begging pardon for those
572
[SER. XXXII.
SUITABLE EXERCISE IN AFFLICTION.
evils for which God hath hid his face from
her ; and what to desire, only to commence
her suit anew, as troubles arise, Cause thy
face to shine, and we shall be saved ; as the
returning of the spring makes all things to
flourish, and again puts a new visage upon
nature. Mark the harmony and resound of
the Lord's returning to Israel; the returning
of their hopes and the sweet effects of it, Hos.
xiv. 1, 5. All those heavy indignations that
are on, or might trouble, the church and them-
selves, arise from security, impenitence, and
the fruitlessness of the word among them,
which makes the Lord hide his face from
them. Our part is, therefore, to return to
him. Oh, had we hearts to put the Lord to
it, he could and would do yet greater things
for us. And this we ought earnestly to desire,
and with all patience to wait for it; which is
the prophet's way, I will wait.
The two wheels of the soul are desire and
hope. Difficulty sets an edge upon desire;
and the appearance of obtaining, upholds
hope. And both these are in the words the
prophet here uses for his waiting and expect-
ing ; for they import an earnest desire, and
yet a patient attending upon the issue. Look
to that of David, Psalm crxx. 6: I wait for
thee more than they that wait for the morning
—that watch uß. morning, as some ren-
der it ; in the cold might that watch. The
thing the pilot waits for is not a private good
to himself, for that could not stand a counter-
balance to the evil he is sensible of. The
Lord's hiding his face from the house of Ja-
cob was that which troubled him, and his
waiting was answerable for the return of that
light to the house of Jacob. Grieved that the
Lord should absent himself from his people,
he looks back upon God's frequent appear-
ings and showing of his face to Jacob, by
such visions as gave lustre and glory to the
place. See Hosea xii. 9: We found him in
Bethel, there he spake with us—even us, who
have interest in these gracious appearances.
And there it is urged for a ground of hope and
waiting and calling on God. Now, for the
face of God to be hid from those who were
the posterity of Jacob and God’s own peculiar
people, was a sad thought to the prophet,
who stays himself with this, that the Lord
God had made known to him his purpose of
returning and restoring the house of Jacob,
and upon this he resolves to believe, and to
rely upon God's word for it: I will wait.
Hoping, waiting, and believing, are taken
indifferently in the Scriptures, and all the dif-
ference is only in relation to time. Faith be-
lieves the present word, and hope looks out
for the after-accomplishment; and the patient
waiting for it results from both. . So they are
but the actings of the same faith in a different
notion, and they are indeed the test of faith.
Our hearts are naturally of another temper
than to take the Lord's word and repose upon
it, and, when it is deferred, yea, and cross ap-
pearances come in between, yet, still firmly
to believe and patiently to wait for the ac-
complishment. We are of a childish humor.
That which we laugh at in children, in little
things, such as their minds are set on, we
may be sorry for in ourselves as a greater
folly, being in greater affairs. We are all in
haste, and would have things come as fast as
our fancying ; and upon the delay of these
mercies we look for, are almost ready to give
over. That which brake forth from that
wicked king’s mouth, the seed of it is in all
our hearts, when things appear worse and
worse: This evil is from the Lord ; why
should I wait for him any longer ? 2 Kings
vi. 23. It is strange, in court suits and other
business of a like nature, how long a man
will wait upon another, and think all is
well if he speed at last; and yet how briskly
we deal with God if he answers not at the
first
But faith teaches us (so to speak) spiritual
civility, good manners toward God; it lets the
soul see his greatness, and goodness, and
truth, and persuades us to wait on him, and
not to weary in waiting ; to wait patiently, as
it is Psalm xl. 1. Faith composes the mind,
cures that light, fickle hastiness which is nat-
urally in us. He that believeth shall not make
haste, says the same prophet, Isa. xxviii. 16.
And is it not good reason that we wait for
him 2 Is he not wise enough to choose the
fittest times for his own purposes? Well may
we wait till he be gracious to us, for he waits
to be gracious to us. Isa. xxx. 18. He is not
slack, but is staying only for the due season ;
his love is waiting for the time that his wis-
dom hath appointed. And, to express his af-
fection in our terms, he is longing for that
time, as well as we are. For the same word
is there used for his waiting, that both here
and in that verse is used for ours, and it sig-
nifies an earnest waiting or breathing for that
thing we wait for ; and therefore, since he
waits and longs, our waiting is in a happy
conformity to him. And thus, with good rea-
son it is concluded, They are blessed that
wait for him. Thus there is a word very an-
swerable, Hab. ii. 3: The vision is for an ap-
point nd time—we read, At the end it shall
speak ; but it may be rendered, It breatheth
toward the end ; runs, as it were, so fast that
it panteth. The same word is used, Cant. ii.,
for the rising of the morning. -
By fretting impatience there is nothing
gained but needless desire. It advances not
our business, but perplexes us to no purpose.
And, on the other hand, patient waiting loses
not a moment, but attains its end in the very
due time determined; and hath this advan-
tage in the meantime, that it puts the mind
into a temper of peace and contentedness,
which a man may act and profess to others,
but can not truly have within himself with-
out faith Isa. xxvi. 3: Thou wilt keep him
in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee,
because he trusteth in thee. This waiting is
always answered; never marked with disap-
IsA. viii. 17.]
573
SUITABLE EXERCISE IN AFFLICTION.
pointment, as is the ordinary custom of other
hopes. Therefore, that which the prophet
hath, He that believeth shall not make haste,
the apostle Peter renders shall not be ashamed,
1 Pet. ii. 6. Though he hasten not, but wait,
and wait long, yet his waiting shall not shame
him ; none shall have matter to laugh at him
for it, for his waiting shall be repaid with
success, his hope shall be accomplished ;
whereas, any other expectations make men
ridiculous, and expose them to scorn, in that
they look often for most contentment in those
things that deceive them. The brooks that
grow dry in summer, are an emblem of
worldly hopes. Thus, Job vi. 19: The troops
of Tema looked, the companies of Sheba wait-
ed for them. They were confounded because
they had hoped ; they came thither and were
ashamed. But this waiting on the Lord never
yet deluded any. I waited patiently for the
Lord, says the psalmist, and he inclined to
me, and heard my cry. Psalm xl. 1. Then he
makes his experience a common good; draws
it to a general conclusion, ver. 4: Blessed is
the man that maketh the Lord his trust. Thus
he confirms that general truth by his particu-
lar experience, and, as the apostle says of
them who believe, sets to his seal that God
is true. Thus ought every one, upon his ex-
perience of the Lord's goodness in his deliver-
ance, speak to the advantage of the Lord's
faithfulness, and say, “As he is called abun-
dant in goodness and truth, so I have found
him, and I would have others to rely upon
him : if my testimony could do any good to
that, or persuade them, they shall be sure to
have it wheresoever I come.” Thus Psalm
xxxiv., the prophet will not smother the
Lord's goodness which he hath found : This
poor man cried, and the Lord heard him. And
ver. 8, he invites all to taste and see that the
Lord is good ; blessed are they who trust in
him. He will advise others to this upon his
own experience. Surely he will know where
to seek, when he is again put to it. As he
loves the Lord for what he hath found, so he
will make use of him always in all his straits.
Psalm czvi. 1: I love the Lord ; and seeing
he hath inclined his ear to me, I am resolved
upon this course, I will call upon him as long
as I live.
The difficulties which the prophet's faith
here encounters, and which commended the
strength of it, are these two: 1st, The multi-
tude of unbelievers round about, as a mighty
torrent which he was to come against; that
so few would rely on the Lord. But he re-
solves against it, as Joshua did for obedience,
Choose you whom you will serve, so here, for
faith; let others take their course, each one
run his own way, my choice is this, I will
wait on the Lord. And this is no small mat-
ter, to maintain the preciousness of faith
against the profaneness and atheism of the
world. And considering the disregard of God
tnat there is in the society and converse of the
greatest part, it is much if a godly mind do
not sometimes suffer something by it; and
we have need to beware of it.
2dly; The other difficulty is in the thing it-
self, which looks so dark and unlikely, that
many of his people are giving over trusting
on him, and he seems to give over helping
them. He hides his face, yet I will wait
on him alone, says the prophet. Though all
other hearts fail, yet I will wait on thee.
Though thou withdraw thyself, and hide thy
face, yet I will look to no other, I will stay
by thee, and wait on thee. And although not
only my days may pass, but ages, before the
things be accomplished I look for, yet I will
believe they shall come to pass. I will look
on them in this notion, though I can not live
to see them. And, indeed, besides that the
great temporal deliverances which the proph-
et foresaw and here looks into, came long
after his days, it is likely that he looks be:
yond these too, to the coming of the Messiah,
of whom he speaks so clearly both in this
chapter and the former, and also in the fol-
lowing. Notwithstanding all the sins of this
people, and all the heavy judgments their
sins call for and have brought, or shall bring
on them, yet he believed the Lord would send
them that great deliverer and Savior, his on-
ly Son, whom he had promised. Thus the
eye of faith looks over the head of many dif-
ficulties and of many ages between it, to the
thing it expects, and sees it beyond them all
(so the word here, I will look for him, is to
stand upright as a line and look out, answer-
ing to that word, 'Anokapaé6kta, Rom. viii.);
desiring and confidently expecting good from
him to his church. In these kingdoms,
though the outward face of affairs look quite
contrary, and the Lord for a time suffer our
troubles to increase, and hide his face as not
regarding us, suffering things, by the perverse-
ness of men on all hands, to turn to a univer-
Sal confusion and disorder, yet still, you that
know the Lord and his dealing, pray, and be-
lieve, and wait, and be assured your prayer
shall be answered in due time.
Thus for your personal condition. You
that desire the light of God's countenance
above all things, though he seem to deny and
hide his face from you for a time, yet wait on
him, leave him not, for if ye do, you are sure
to perish; but if ye wait on him, ye may say,
it may be he will be gracious, but if he will
not, I know no other to go to ; I will still
wait and try him. What think ye of Job’s
purpose ?, Though he slay me, yet I will trust
in him : though I saw him ready to throw me
into hell, yet I will look for mercy. Faith
can not be nonplused. There is in it a pious
obstinacy that will not yield to the greatest
opposition, nor give over so long as there is
any possibility of prevailing. I said, says
Jonah, I am cast out from thy presence, yet
for all that, I can not give the matter up
for desperate; I must have leave to look
toward thee; Yet I will look toward thy holy
temple. Jon. ii. 4. Invincible faith, as here,
574
[2 CoR. v. 20.
SERMON TO THE CLERGY.
I will wait—I will look. His doubling the
word is meant to express his resolvedness, in
the beginning of the verse, and in the end of
it. And so, faith conquers the difficulty that
makes against it. And this is the purest act-
ing of faith, where there is nothing of sense
to support it, and yet, it holds out, and, as
Abraham did, against hope believes in hope.
When the soul is at the hardest pinch, faith
will say, I will lie at the footstool of the
throne of grace until I be thrown from it. . I
will not away from it. I will wait on till the
last moment.
SERMION
PREACHED TO THE CLERGY.
2 COR. v. 20.
Now then, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though
God did beseech you by us; we pray you in Christ's
stead, be ye reconciled unto God.
IT is appointed unto all men once to die,
and after that to come to judgment, saith the
author of the Epistle to the Hebrews. Two
sad necessities to sinful man. This last, na-
ture's light discovers not ; but the other,
though it be seldom deep in our thoughts, is
almost always before our eyes; and though
few seriously remember it, yet none can be
ignorant of it. Against this known and uni-
versal evil, the chief of heathen moralists,
the stoics, have much endeavored to arm
themselves. And others have bent the
strength of their wits to master the fear of
death, and have made themselves, and some
of their hearers, conquerors in imagination:
but when the king of terrors really appeared,
he dashed their stout resolutions, and turn-
ed all their big words and looks into appal-
In eIlt.
And the truth is, there are no reasonings in
the world able to argue a man into a willing-
ness to part with a present being, without
Some hopes, at least, of one more happy ; nor
will any contentedly dislodge, though they
dwell never so meanly, except upon terms of
changing for the better.
The Christian, then (not the nominal Chris-
tian, but he who is truly such), is the only
man that can look death immediately in the
face; for he knows assuredly that he shall
remove to a house not made with hands, eter-
mal in the heavens.
The discourse beginning this chapter, oc-
casioned by the end of the former, continues
to the 12th verse, where the apostle subjoins
an apology, for his high and confident man-
ner of speaking ; which apology serves like-
wise for a very pertinent re-entry to the main
discourse of the former chapter, concerning
the worth and work of the ministry. But be.
cause of the apostle's frequent, yet seasonable
digressions, proleptic and exegetic, divers
‘Spirit.
may model the analysis after divers man-
Iler S.
To take, then, the discourse as it lies here
together, abstract from precedent and conse-
quent, I think it may be divided into these
two heads: First, the apostle's resolution
for death. Secondly, his course and manner
of life. Each is supported with its proper
grounds or reasons: the former to verse 9,
the other to the end of the chapter.
The resolution is so strong, that he expres-
ses it by the words of earnest desiring and
groaning. And this resolution for death,
springs from his assurance of life after death :
We know that if our earthly house of this
tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building
of God not made with hands, eternal in the
heavens. He speaks in his own and his col-
league's names. And the whole matter of
both is set forth by an elegant continued met-
aphor. Both the desire and the assurance
causing it, are illustrated, First, by their
chief cause, verse 5. Now he that hath
wrought us for the selfsame thing is God:
who also hath given unto us the earnest of the
Both in his gracious purpose for this,
hath he made us, and in a pledge of perform-
ance he hath given us earnest, even his
Spirit. Then they are illustrated by their
subordinate cause, faith, verse 7. For we
walk by faith, not by sight.
His course and purpose—for he both signi-
fieth what he doth, and how he intends to
continue to do—his course and purpose of
life is, in general, to walk acceptably in this
absence from the Lord (ver. 9). And in par-
ticular, walking diligently and faithfully in
the ministry. Wer. 11, 18.
One reason of this course and purpose, is
implied in that illative [A3], which knits this
part with the former. And indeed, a good
frame of life hath a most necessary connexion
with a strong resolution for death, and assur-
ance of life eternal ; and they mutually cause
one another. That a pious life gives strength
against death, and hope of eternal life, none
will deny ; nor is it less true, that the assur-
ance animates and stirs up to obedience : so
far is it from causing sloth, that it is the only
spur to acceptable walking. We are conft-
dent, saith he (ver. 8), wherefore, we labor
to be accepted (ver. 9).
This purpose is further backed with a dou-
ble reason, viz., of two pious affections; the
one of fear, ver. 11, the other of love, ver, 14 ;
that of fear, arising from the consideration of
the judgment-seat of Christ; that of love,
from the thoughts of his death. Wer. 14. For
that love of God constraineth us, because we
thus judge, that if one died for all, then were
all dead. And he died for all, that they
which live should not henceforth live unto
themselves, but unto Him who died for them,
and rose again. These are the reasons that
stir up this eminent apostle to a study of ac-
ceptable walking in all things, particularly
in his especial calling, the ministry of his rec-
2 CoR. v. 20.]
575
SERMON TO THE CLERGY.
onciliation:-approving himself therein to
his God, and as much as may be to the con-
Sciences of the people ; saying and doing all
things with intention of his glory and their
good ; free from vain glory; not speaking for
himself, nor living to himself, but to Him who
died for him, and rose again ; not possessed
with carnal respects touching himself or oth-
ers ; no, nor entertaining carnal considera-
tions of Christ himself, as being ascended,
and therefore to be considered and conversed
with after a new manner (spiritually) by all
those that are new creatures in him, and
reconciled to God by him, through the ministry
of the word of reconciliation. Which recon-
ciliation God himself hath thus effected (ver.
21). He hath made him to be sin for us, who
knew no sin , that we might be made the righ-
teousness of God in him. Who knew no sin,
practically knew none; was altogether free
from sin, not only from commission and con-
sent, but from the very first and least motions
of sin. And indeed no one was thus fit to be
made sin, but one who knew none, an immac-
ulate Lamb. Made him to be sin, not by con-
straint, not beside his knowledge and consent.
The heathens observed, that their sacrifices
were successless and unhappy, when the
beasts came unwillingly to the altar. We
need not fear this point: our blessed sacrifice,
who was also priest and altar, offered him-
self up cheerfully : Then saith he, Lo, I come
to do thy will. Heb. x. 7. And I lay down
my life for the sheep, saith the good shep-
herd, John x. 15. To be sin ; not only to
take the similitude of sinful flesh, but becom-
ing man for man’s sake, and to be numbered
with transgressors, as the prophet speaks,
Isa, liii. 12, and to bear the sin of many, but
the imputed guilt and inflicted punishment of
sin. And these sins of many made him im-
putatively an exceedingly great sinner, and
therefore he is said to have been made sin,
by reason of this imputation ; whereupon fol-
lowed his suffering as a sacrifice. And I con-
ceive, that the reason why the word which
in the first language signifies sin, is some-
times taken for the sacrifice, is because the
confessed sins were, in a manner, transferred
and laid upon the heads of the legal sacrifi-
ces. And so saith the prophet, He hath laid
on him the iniquity of us all. Isa. liii. 6.
He was then made sin primarily, by impu-
tation of, and consequently, by suffering for,
our sins, as our expiatory sacrifice. He made
him sin for us, in our stead, and for our good;
to wit, our redemption ; as follows. That we
might be made, or become [ywópevot] the righ-
teousness of God in him ; but be it made
[Atvákeóa], it is no otherwise than Christ was
made sin imputatively; and if this infer-
ence need help, each word that follows will
confirm it. Righteousness, not righteous;
to show the perfection of it, not to urge its
unity. Righteousness, not righteousnesses;
as intimating that it is but one righteousness,
whereby we are all justified of God. Not our
own, but in him, not in ourselves. All which
makes it clear, as it were written with the
Sunbeams, that, by the most gracious ex-
change, as he took our sins, so he hath given
us his righteousness. It is true, this is al-
ways accompanied with holiness inherent, but
imperfect. By that imputed righteousness,
the spouse of Christ is clear as the sun, all
luminous; but in regard of infused righteous-
ness, she is only fair as the moon, but the one
half light, and that appearing unequally too,
waxing and waning, and having spots at its
fulness here below. She is holy in this re-
gard, but righteousness in the other righteous-
ness of God; his by appointing, his by gift
and application, and his by acceptance. Of
God in him ; that is, its being in him who is
called the Lord our righteousness ; in him in
whom the Father acquiesceth, and is well
pleased. Blessed are they that trust in him.
But to the former, ver. 20. Now then we
are ambassadors for Christ, as though God
did beseech you by us; we pray you in Christ's
stead, be ye reconciled unto God.
Here we have all the parties requisite in
the treaty of reconciliation. God, though of
fended, seeking peace with men, his creatures,
and by sin become rebels: As though God
beseeched you. Christ the only procurer, and
likewise the chief ambassador, of this peace.
And then, lastly, have we the sub-delegated
messengers of this peace: We, as ambassadors
for Christ. We, the apostles, and all the
ministers of the gospel. For as in their pecu-
liarities, they had no successors, for that is
repugnant, so, in those things wherein they
have successors, all true ministers of the word
are such. The apostle himself calls this em-
bassy, the ministry of reconcilialion, ver. 18.
Ambassadors for Christ, that is, in his stead.
In this verse, we have the office of the minis-
try, under the name of ambassadors; and their
message, the delivery whereof is the execu-
tion of their office, the entreaty of men, to be
reconciled to God. Both the office and the
message are backed with due authority or
warrant. The office's warrant is, that we are
ambassadors for Christ, or in his stead; that
is, subordinate to him by his own ordination:
the warrant of the message is God's own will
who sent them, for it is his mind to beseech
you by us.
But to resume the first division, whereof
each of its two parts will afford its proposi-
tion; and upon these two propositions I shall
insist, in what remains to be said.
The first proposition is this: from their
office, ministers of the gospel are true ambas-
sadors, under Christ, from God to man. As
soon as man had divested himself of God's
image, his shameful nakedness made him run
into the thickets; nor could he ever since then
look his Maker directly in the face, nor en-
dure to hear his immediate voice. Therefore,
when God himself would come and dwell
among men, he veiled his deity with human
flesh: there he stood behind the wall, and
576
[2 CoR. v. 20.
SERMON TO THE CLERGY.
showed himself through the lattices. Let us
not hear again the voice, nor let us see this
great fire any more, that we die not, said the
people at Horeb; and the Lord who knew
their mould, saith, They have said well. Deut.
v. 28. I will raise them up a prophet, said
God, from among their brethren ; like unto
thee ſ and he did so. As he came for man’s
good, so, for the same end, went he away
again: It is ea pedient for you, saith he, that
I go away. John xvi. 7. And since that time
he hath continued to send men, men yet liker
themselves than he was, men subject to like in-
firmities, sin not excepted. Even as my Father
sent me, so send I you, saith he. John xx. 21.
But the loss in this change were intolerable,
did he not allay it somewhat by sending his
Spirit upon those men whom he sends to men :
ſº I will send him unto you, saith he,
ohn Xvi. 7. He is gone indeed, as was ne-
cessary, but, being ascended, he caused gifts
to descend upon men ; Some he gave to be
apostles, some prophets, and some evangelists,
and pastors, and some teachers ; all for the
work of the ministry, and that for the perfect-
ing of the saints, and the edifying of his body,
Eph. iv. 11, 12.
Thus, then, God treats with man in a hu-
man way. He draws not his own to him by
immediate revelations, nor rejects he the rest
by express words from heaven; but, while
he sends his ambassadors indifferently to both,
he works differently in them. And the ad-
mirable variety of effects of the same message,
after the same manner, and at the same time
delivered, do not a little set forth and com-
mend that same [roxvirpíkixos coſta row 6:00],
manifold wisdom of God (Eph. iii. 10); that
his word should sweetly melt the hearts of
some, and, as it were, more violently break
the hearts of others; that it should harden
and blind some, mollify and enlighten others;
that it should convince those whom yet it
converts not, and that by its majesty, though
in the mouths of simple men, it should bridle
and restrain many of all ranks, whom it re-
news not : moulding and framing them to an
external conformity and square carriage,
whereby the world, and the church of God in
it especially, are much advantaged. And the
lustre of all these effects, is exceedingly set
off by the quality of the messengers, being to
the world's eye but contemptible men. But
had it not been more congruous to the gran-
deur of this great King, to have sent angels,
his ministering spirits, to be the ministers of
the word 2 Had he not better have used
those precious vessels for his chief treasure,
than to have concredited it to vessels of earth,
not to say, to discredit it by so doing 2 No,
his thoughts are not as ours; yea, they are
farthest above ours when they seem to be
farthest below them. And if we look again,
we shall find it more glorious to have con-
quered so many kingdoms, and brought them
to our king, the Lord Jesus, by the preaching
of a few fishermen, and such like, than if he
had done it by those active spirits. The
meanness of the means, raises exceedingly
the glory of the sovereign's cause.
Thus we see how the sending of men in this
embassy, was requisite for the frailty of man,
and how well it suits with the glory of God.
Hence may be deduced some necessary
things for all in general, something in par-
ticular for these ambassadors, and something
for those to whom they are sent.
First, it may persuade all to entertain more
respectful thoughts of this function than most
men do. Some speak out their disrespect;
others, though not expressing it in words,
have it lurking in their breasts, and appearing
in their practices. To instance in one error
or two, which many labor under, springing
evidently from a low esteem of this calling.
1. Are there not divers pretenders to it, who
being, and possibly finding themselves, in-
sufficient for all other employments, have
their recourse to this, making no doubt of
their sufficiency for it 2 Yea, such there are,
too many; their worldly friends being guilty
either of begetting in them, or of fomenting
this presumption. On the other side, be there
not others, who, having some advantage of
outward rank, or inward endowments, would
think themselves, and be thought by those
who have interest in them, to be exceedingly
disparaged if this calling were mentioned to
them, and who would count it a greatabasing,
yea, a losing of themselves to embrace it 3
Against these two gross mistakes, may very
appositely be opposed this, We are ambassa-
dors for Christ. From which expression it
is most evident, that the ministry both re-
quires the best and ablest, and deserves them ;
that the refuse aud abjects of men can not be
worthy of it, nor it unworthy of the choicest.
It requires able men, because they are to be
ambassadors ; and this will follow of itself.
Again, consider, whose ambassadors, and in
what business: the ambassadors of the King
of kings, in the weighty matter of treating
peace between him and mankind. Shall it be
said of his ambassadors, as Cato said to those
who were sent by the Romans to Bithynia
counting that three wants were among them,
viz., that they had neither feet, nor head, nor
heart 2
It is true God may, and sometimes, espe-
cially in extraordinary times, does, make use
of unlettered and low-qualified men; but then
he inlays their defects by a singular supply:
therefore, that is no rule for us in the ordinary
vocation. It is a piece of God’s prerogative,
to use unlikely means without disadvantage.
Anything is a fit instrument in his hands; but
we are to choose the fittest and best means,
both in our own affairs, and in his service;
and if in any, this eminent service of embassy
requires a special choice. If bodily integrity
was requisite in the servers at the altar under
the law, shall we think that the mentally
blind and lame are good enough for the min-
istration under the gospel, which exceeds in
2 CoR. v. 20.]
577
SERMON TO THE CLERGY.
worth and glory? Who is sufficient for these
things? Saith the great doctor of the Gentiles.
Our practices seem to answer, anybody : And
it is observable, that carelessness in this kind,
is usually the companion of false worship,
and too much care of decking, trimming, and
making gay the externals of it. It is said of
Jeroboam, that he made high places, but priests
of the lowest of the people, 1 Kings xii. 31.
As it was said, that the church had. As he
said of “golden cups and wooden priests,” so
we may say of that church which values
them so much, they are well looked to, neatly
adorned, but their priests grossly ignorant.
This function requires able men, being a
weighty charge, and is worthy of them, being
highly honorable. And doubtless, there is
egregious profaneness in the contrary thoughts.
The heathen can style those stones more hap-
py than common ones, which are chosen for
the building of temples, and among these,
the altar-stones the happiest. And shall we
not account truly happy, those living stones,
which are hewn out for God's building, and
chiefly (so to speak), the altar-stones, the
messengers of peace 2 What can be more
honorable than to serve the highest Lord in
the chiefest functions of his house ? How
ought we to account of an ambassador's place,
when King David esteemed so highly a door-
keeper's office in this king's court
2. We are ambassadors. This may correct
another error in the world, though accounted
by those that entertain it, a choice piece of
policy for God. It is this: the ministry being
so mean a thing in the world's eye, and so
obnoxious to contempt, it is expedient that it
be raised and brought into credit by annexed
excessive dignities, high titles of honor, and
suitable revenues. It is true, that penury and
want of competency in temporals, in those
who bring an eternal treasure, argues base
ingratitude, and is most unworthy of well-
constituted churches. But where the remedy
exceeds too far, it becomes worse than the
disease, being compounded of carnal prudence
and ambition, both of which are enmity to
God. And this I take to have been one of
Germany’s provoking sins, and Rome's pre-
dominant sin. For these incongruous honors,
to speak it in a word, raising some from con-
tempt, teach them to contemn and insult over
their brethren ; to say nothing of their affront-
.ng of higher quality, yea, of princes and
kings themselves, while they pretend to be
the only supporters of their crowns. And if
this their insolency in advancement, devolve
them back again in contempt, and their honor
become their shame, they may thank them-
selves. Their Master taught them another
method of attaining due esteem. He hath
given honor enough to those whom he hath
made his ambassadors; and if men contemn
this, he takes the indignity as done to him-
self, and he is able enough to vindicate his
own honor. Let men esteem of us, as the
ministers of Christ, 1 Cor. iv. 1. Here is all
the esteem St. Paul requires ; and they are
unworthy of this who are not content with it.
Their best way, whom God employs, is to
study his glory, and he will not fail to honor
those that honor him.
And this leads me fitly on from the convic-
tion of these common errors, to a word of par-
ticular exhortation to those ambassadors, from
the nature of their calling so expressed. And
it binds upon them chiefly these four duties:
1. Piety. 2. Prudence. 3. Fidelity. 4. Mag-
nanimity.
Piety, in two steps or degrees: first, to look
they be friends with God; secondly, to labor
to be inward with him.
[1..] They are to look that they be friends
with God. For it no way suits that they be
ambassadors for reconciliation, who are not
themselves reconciled : it is certain such will
move both coldly and successlessly in the
work. What he can do extraordinarily who
doth always what he wills in heaven and
earth, we question not. He can convey grace
by those to whom he gives none. He can cause
them to carry this treasure, and have no share
in it; carry the letter and not know what is in
it ; and make them, so to speak, equivocal
causes of conversion.
But, usually, he converts those whom he
makes the happy strengtheners of their breth-
ren, Iluke xxii. 32. We think, that they who
savingly know not Christ, should not be fit to
make other men acquainted with him. He
who can tell men what God hath done for his
soul, is the likeliest to bring their souls to
God. Hardly can he speak to the heart, who
speaks not from it. Si vis me flere, &c. Be-
fore the cock crows to others, he claps his
wings, and rouses up himself. How can a
frozen-hearted creature warm his hearers'
hearts, and enkindle them with the love of
God 2 But he whom the love of Christ con-
strains, his lively recommendations of Christ,
and speeches of love, shall sweetly constrain
others to love him. Above all loves, it is
most true of this, that none can speak sensi-
bly of it, but they that have felt it. Our most
requisite pulpit-orators, yea, speak they with
the tongues of men and angels, without the
experience of this love, are no fit ambassa-
dors for Christ, for his embassy is a love-
treaty. Such men are but sounding brass,
and tinkling cymbals. The sublimest and
best contrived of their discourses, glow-worm
like, are as those foolish fires, may have some
light with them, heat they have none. When
a man speaks of reconciliation and happiness,
as if he had some interest therein himself—
when his words are animated with affection,
as he is like to beget some affection where
there is none—so, a pious hearer that is al-
ready gained to Christ, finds the embassy
drawing him effectually nearer heaven, blow-
ing that Divine fire that is within him, and
causing it to mount upward. As in water,
face answereth to face, so doth the heart o
man to man, saith the wise man, Prov. xxvii.
73
578
[2 CoR. v. 20.
SERMON TO THE CLERGY.
19. There is a certain peculiar sympathy
and sweet correspondence between souls that
lodge the same spirit. Those that are united
to the same Head, Christ, by reconciliation,
find their hearts agreed, and they relish the
discourses one of another. Thus important
is it every way, both for the begetting and
for the strengthening of grace, that the am-
bassador thereof be a reconciled person.
[2] As he must look that he be friends
with God, so, secondly, he must labor also to
be inward with God. For though the em-
bassy be the same, in great part, in the mouths
of all God's ambassadors, yet there is a world
of mysterious particulars contained in it, and
they meet with many intricate pieces in their
particular treaties with men's consciences.
And in these, know they the will of the King,
their master, more or less clearly, according
as they are more or less intimate with him.
How knew divine Moses so much of the
Lord's will, but by much converse with
him 2
These ambassadors, to the end that they
may do so, must labor for integrity. His se-
cret is with the righteous. For humility. He
is familiar indeed with the lowly; he takes
up house with them : With such a one will I
dwell, saith the Lord. God's choice acquaint-
ance are humble men. For the spirit of
meekness. He whom we named was emi-
nent in this, and so, in familiarity with God.
Christ singularly loves the meek and lowly,
they are so like himself. One thing they
must mainly take heed of, if they aspire to a
holy familiarity with God: earthly-minded-
ness. If no servant of the god of mammon
can serve this God in point of common ser-
vice, how much less can he be fit for an emi-
ment employment, as an embassy, and enjoy
the intimacy requisite for that employment
These messengers should come near the life
of angels, always beholding the face of the
Father of lights. But if their affections be
engaged to the world, their faces will still be
that way. Fly high they may, sometimes, in
some speculations of their own ; but, like the
eagle, for all their soaring, their eye will still
be upon some prey, some carrion here below.
Upright, meek, humble, and heavenly minds,
then, must the ambassadors of this great King
have, and so obtain his intimacy, mounting
upon those wings of prayer and meditation,
and having the eye of faith upward. Thus
shall they learn more of his choice mysteries
in one hour, than by many days’ poring upon
casuists and schoolmen, and such like. This
ought to be done, I confess; but above all,
the other must not be omitted. Their chief
study should be, that of their commission, the
Holy Scriptures. The way to speak skilfully
from God, is, often to hear him speak. The
Lord God hath given me the tongue of the
learned, saith the evangelic prophet (chiefly
intending Christ), to speak a word in season
to the weary. Ay, that is the learnedest
tongue, when all is done. But how 2–He
wakeneth me morning by morning ; he waken-
eth mine ear to hear as the learned. Isa. l. 4.
Thus we see how these ambassadors have
need to be friends, and intimate friends with
their Lord. For if they be much with God in
the mount, their returns to men will be with
brightness in their faces, and the law in their
hand; their lives and their doctrines shall be
heavenly.
2. The second requisite of these ambassa-
dors is prudence, or dexterity to manage their
Master’s business. Wise princes and states,
in choosing their ambassadors, above all oth-
er kinds of learning, have respect to practical
abilities ; and they that can best read the
several geniuses and dispositions of several
nations and particular men, and accordingly
know how to treat with every one according
to their temper, to speak to them in their own
language, are judged the fittest men for that
employment. Great is the diversity of hu-
mors among men : some are tumorous, some
rash, some avaricious, some ambitious, some
slow and leaden, others precipitant and mer-
curial, and many other varieties. Now, to
know how to deal with each of these in their
own kind, for the advancement of his Mas-
ter’s business, is a special discretion in an am-
bassador. And those ambassadors we speak
of, had as much need of it as any : they have
men of all, both outward and inward differ-
ences, to deal with, and the same men so dif-
ferent from themselves at divers times, that
they are hardly the same ; some ignorant,
others learned, some weak, others strong,
some secure with false presumptions, others
tormented with false fears. And much pru-
dent consideration of those differences, and
accommodating themselves thereunto in the
matter and manner of their discourses, is very
expedient in their treaties. Of some have
compassion, plucking them out of the fire, ma-
king a difference. Jude 22. What other is
St. Paul's becoming all things to all men, that
he might win some & 1 Cor. ix. 22. And this
policy is far different from temporizing, and
compliance with evil, which in no case can
be tolerated in these ambassadors, for that is
disadvantageous to their business: it may be
the way of their own promotion, but it is not
the way to advance their Master's kingdom,
which end should be the square of all their
contrivances, and with it nothing will suit but
what is upright. A kind of guile they may
use, but it must carry their King's impress;
it must be a holy guile; and such the minis-
ters of the gospel not only may, but ought to
study. Fishers of men they are, and why
may they not use certain baits, and diversity
of them 2 But as their catching is not de-
structive, but saving, so must all their baits
be. . They must quarter dovelike simplicity
and serpentine wisdom together, as he com-
manded them, who sent them on this em-
bassy.
3. Their third duty is fidelity; and that
both in the matter of their embassy, and in
2 CoR. v. 20.]
579
SERMON TO THE CLERGY.
the manner of delivering it. In the matter
they must look to their commission, and de-
clare the whole counsel of God, not adding
nor abating anything. We know how hei-
nously kings take the presumption of their
ambassadors in this kind ; though reason be
pretended, and perhaps justly, yet even they
account obedience better than sacrifice; yea,
Some of them have been so precise and tender
of their prerogative, that they have preferred
a damageable affront to their commands, be-
fore a profitable breach of them. And above
all kings, this King, who is above them all,
hath good reason to be punctual in this; for
princes’ instructions may be imperfect, and
as things may fall out, prejudicial to their
purpose, but his are most complete, and al-
ways so suitable to his end, that they can
not be bettered. The matter, then, of this
embassy is unalterable: in that, these ambas-
Sadors must be faithful. Faithful, also, in
the manner of delivering it; with singleness
and diligence. [1..] With singleness, free
from by-respects, not seeking their own hon-
or or advantage, but their Master's ; abasing
themselves where need is, that he may be
magnified ; never hazarding the least part of
his rights for the greatest benefit that could
accrue to themselves. The treachery of an
ambassador is of all the most intolerable ; to
deceive under trust. If any who bear the
name of God’s legates, think to deceive him,
they deceive themselves. He can not be
mocked. They must all appear before his
judgment-seat, and be unveiled before men
and angels. Knowing, therefore, the terrors
of the Lord, let them go about his work with
candor, and singleness of heart. And [2]
with diligence. He that is diligent in his
work, shall stand before princes, saith the
wise prince, Prov. xxii. 29. The great Prince
of Peace shall admit those to stand eminently
before him who are diligent in his embassy
of peace. Such are they who make it their
meat and their drink, as Christ himself did,
who accept all occasions, yea, seek and make
occasions, to treat with men for God. That
oracle-like preaching of one sermon or two in
a year is far from this sedulity and instancy
in treating, which are requisite in God's am-
bassadors, The prince of darkness hath more
industrious agents than so: they compass sea
and land to make a proselyte ; they hold to it,
and are content to lose many a labor, that
Some one may prosper.
And this may meet with the discontent
that some ministers take at their great pains
and little success. We see, Satan's ministers
can comport with this. Since it is no just
exception against God’s work, still be in thy
business, and refer the issue to thy Master.
Wait on God, and do good, saith the royal
psalmist, Psalm xxxvii. 3. Sow thy seed in
the morning, and in the evening withhold
not thy hand ; for thou knowest not which will
prosper, saith the wise son, Eccl. xi. 6. As
the moralist speaks of benefits, a man may
lose many words among the people, that
some one may not be lost. I am all things to
all, saith the apostle, that I may gain some.
1 Cor. ix. 20. And though in continuing dili-
gent, thy diligence should still continue fruit-
less to others, to thee it shall not be so. Thy
God is a discreet Lord : as he hath not put
events into thy hand, he will not exact them
at thy hands. Thou art to be accountable for
planting and watering, but not for the in-
crease. Be not wanting in thy task, and thou
shalt not want thy recompense. Shouldst
thou be forced to say with the prophet, I have
labored in vain, and spent my strength for
naught, in regard of success, yet, if thou hast
labored, so labored as to spend thy strength
in that service, thou must add with him, Yet
surely my judgment is with the Lord, and my
work with my God. Isa. xlix. 4.
4. The last duty recommendable to these
ambassadors is magnanimity, which is no
less needful than the preceding. Many a dif-
ficulty and discouragement is to be encoun-
tered in this service; and, which is worse,
some temptations of prosperity and advance-
ment. If you persist to plead freely for your
Master, you shall be the very mark of the
world's enmity. What mischief is there that
Christ hath not foretold his disciples to ex-
pect at their hands 2 For Christ circumvents
no man to his service ; he tells them what
they shall meet with : They shall prosecute
Ayou through their courts, ecclesiastical and
civil ; deliver you up to councils, and scourge
Ayou in their synagogues, and accuse before
governors and kings (Matt. x. 17); yea, they
shall think they do God good service when
they kill you, his own ambassadors. Many
mountains are to be climbed in going this em-
bassy, and the rage of many a tempest to be
endured. His animis opus est, et pectore fir-
mo. Courage, then, ambassadors of the Most
High . See if you can rise above the world,
and tread upon her frownings with the one
foot, and her deceitful smilings with the oth-
er. Slight her proffers, and contemn like-
wise her contempts. There is honor enough
in the employment, to cause you to answer
all oppositions with disdain: Let it be as
impossible to turn you aside from your integ-
rity, as the sun from its course. For that mes-
sage which you carry shall be glorious in the
end : it shall conquer all opposite powers.
When you seem exposed in your voyage to
the fury of winds and waves, remember what
you carry. Caesarem vehis, et fortunam ejus,
as he said; it can not suffer shipwreck. Let
no sufferings dismay you. For a generous
ambassador will always account it far more
honorable to suffer the worst things for doing
the best service he can to his master, than to
enjoy the world's best rewards for the least
point of disloyalty. And if ever Master was
worthy the suffering for, yours is. , Happy
are you when they persecute you for his sake,
as himself hath told, Matthew v. 10. There
are honorable examples to look back to—So
580
[2 CoR. v. 20.
SERMON TO THE CLERGY.
persecuted they the prophets ; and a precious
recompense to look forward to—Great is
*/our reward in heaven.
Our blessed Redeemer refused no hardships
for the working out of this peace, which is
your embassy. He knew what entertainment
did abide him in the world, what contempts
would be put upon him by mankind whom
he came to redeem; he knew of the full cup
of his Father’s wrath, that he was to drink
for them ; yet resolution arising from love,
climbed over all these mountains, and hap-
pily conquering all those difficulties, attained
the desired end. Worthy ambassadors, fol-
low this generous Leader in promulgating
the peace he hath purchased. Tread his
steps who endured the cross and despised the
shame, and your journey’s end shall be suita-
ble to his who is set down at the right hand
of the Father. Heb. xii. 2. Well did St. Paul
study this copy when he said, I know that
bonds abide me everywhere ; but I care for
none of these things, so that I may finish
my course with joy. Acts xx. 24. The look-
ing over to that great end, is the great means
of surmounting the hardest things that inter-
vene. The eying of that much, will make
an undaunted ambassador. And that this
lesson of courage is very pertinent for them,
will appear by Christ's own urging it upon
the first legates he sent out, when he dwelt
here below : Fear not, saith he, them that
can kill the body, &c., Matt. x. 28; where,
methinks, he propounds, as the chief incen-
tive of courage to these ambassadors, the
joint consideration of those to whom they are
sent, and of Him who sends them. For, seri-
ously considered, it must needs be found most
incongruous, that ambassadors of God should
be afraid to speak to men. Fear not them;
the utmost they can do, reacheth no farther
than the tabernacles of clay. Nor can they
touch that without permission : not a hair of
their head falls without notice of their Mas-
ter. But suppose the highest, let them kill
the body; thither goes their rage and no far-
ther. But fear Him who can kill both the
body and soul. Fear not, but fear. As this
fear hath better cause, so it is the only ex-
pelling cause of the other fear. Nothing be-
gets so generous and undaunted spirits as the
fear of God: no other fear, none of those base
ones that torment worldly men, dare claim
room where that fear lodgeth. The only
cause of these legates’ fears is the inconsider-
ation of their Master. Would they remem-
ber him much, it would ennoble their spirits
to encounter the hardest evils of life, and
death itself, courageously in his service. Their
reward is preserved for them, and they for it;
yea, it alone puts them into full possession.
For their Master, beyond all kings, hath this
privilege: he can not only restore life lost in
his service, but, for a life subject to death,
yea, a dying life, can give immortality, and,
for their sufferings, light and momentary, an
eternal weight of glory. Let them be im-
poverished in his service, it is the best bar-
gain in the world to lose all for him. Let
them be scourged and stigmatized, for the ig-
nominy of these sufferings, the spirit of glory
shall rest upon them. If that Persian prince
could so prize his Zopyrus, who was mangled
for his service, how much more will this Lord
esteem those who suffer so for him He is
the tenderest King over his servants in the
world. Those who touch them, touch the
apple of his eye. Let his messengers, then,
despise the worst the world can do against
them ; yea, let them say of death, as he said
of it to his adversaries, Anytus and Melitus,
Rill me they may, but they can not hurt me.
The lessons to those to whom these am-
bassadors are sent, are : 1st. Do not dishonor
them. Remember David and the king of
Ammon. No king resents this so much as
God: He that despiseth you, despiseth me.
2dly. Slight not their message : know
whence it comes. This not discerning of
holy things, is the pest of Christians. The
apostle specifieth it in the Lord’s body, 1 Cor.
xi. 29 ; it is so in the Lord’s word. He con-
descends, in using earthern creatures, to ex-
plain the choicest of heavenly mysteries, and
earthern vessels to convey these treasures.
And if that which he intended for their ad-
vantage, the wretched sons of men make it a
stumbling-block, and if they contemn the
grace, for the meanness of the persons that
are made conveyors and instruments of it,
what may they expect 3
3dly. Respect even the ambassadors for
his sake whom they represent, counting them
worthy of double honor. For this is the will
of your Lord and their Lord, your King and
their King. And to this King immortal, be
all honor, and glory, and praise, by all the
churches, world without end. Amen.
EXP () SIT I () NS,
-*ms
E XP 0 S IT I 0 N () F T H E C R E E D .
1 TIM. iii. 9.
Holding the mystery of faith in a pure conscience.
THAT which was the apostle's practice, as
he expresses it, 1 Cor. ix. 22, is the standing
duty of all the ministers of the same gospel;
To the weak to become as weak, to gain the
weak, and all things to all men, that if by any
means they may save some. And truly, one
main part of the observance of that rule, is,
in descending to the instruction of the most
ignorant in the principles of the Christian re-
ligion. What I aim at, at this time, is, a
very brief and plain exposition of the articles
of our faith as we have them in that summa-
ry confession; not staying you at all on the
antiquity and authority of it, both of which
are confessed. Whether it was penned by the
apostles, or by others in their time, or soon
after it, it doth very clearly and briefly contain
the main of their divine doctrine.
But though it be altogether consonant with
the Scriptures, yet, not being a part of the
canon of them, I choose these words as per-
tinent to our intended explication of it. They
are, indeed, here, as they stand in the con-
text, a rule for deacons; but without ques-
tion, taken in general, they express the great
duty of all who are Christians, to keep the
7mystery of faith, in a pure conscience.
You see clearly in them a rich jewel, and
a precious cabinet fit for it; the mystery of
faith laid up and kept in a pure conscience.
And these two are not only suitable but in-
separable, as we see in the first chapter of
this epistle, ver, 10: they are preserved and
lost together, they suffer the same shipwreck;
the casting away of the one, is the ship-
wreck of the other: if the one perish, the
other can not escape. Every believer is the
temple of God; and as the tables of the law
were kept in the ark, this pure conscience is
the ark that holds the mystery of faith. You
think you are believers, you do not question
that, and would take it ill that others should.
It is very hard to convince men of unbelief,
directly and in itself. But if you do believe
this truth, that the only receptacle of saving
faith, is, a purified conscience, then, I beseech
you, question yourselves concerning that: be-
ing truly answered in it, it will resolve you
touching your faith, which you are so loath
to question in itself. Are your consciences
pure ? Have you a living hatred and antipathy
against all impurity ? Then, surely, faitn is
there; for it is the peculiar virtue of faith to
purify the heart (Acts xv. 9), and the heart
so purified, is the proper residence of faith,
where it dwells and rests as in its natural
place. But have you consciences that can
lodge pride, and lust, and malice, and cove-
tousness, and such like pollutions? Then,
be no more so impudent as to say, you be-
lieve, nor deceive yourselves so far as to think
you do. The blood of Christ never speaks
peace to any conscience but the same that it
purifies ſrom dead works to serve the living
God. Héb. ix, 13, 14. As that blood is a sac-
rifice to appease God’s wrath, so, it is a laver
to wash our souls; and, to serve both ends, it
is as was the blood of legal sacrifices, both
offered up to God and sprinkled upon us, as
both are expressed in the apostle's words
there. Do not think that God will throw
this jewel of faith into a sty or kennel, a con-
science full of defilement and uncleanness.
Therefore, if you have any mind to these
comforts and the peace that faith brings along
with it, be careful to lodge it where it de-
lights to dwell, in a pure conscience. Not-
withstanding the unbelieving world mocks
the name of purity, yet, study you, above all,
that purity and holiness which may make
your souls a fit abode for faith, and ſor that
peace which it worketh, and for that Holy
Spirit who works both in you.
Faith is either the doctrine which we be-
lieve, or that grace by which we believe that
doctrine. Here, I conceive, it is both, met
and united in the soul. As they say of the
understanding in the schools, Intelligendo fit
illud quod intelligit, so, faith, apprehending
its proper object, is made one with it. Faith
is kept in a pure conscience ; that is, both
that pure doctrine of the gospel which faith
receives, and that faith which receives it, are
together fitly placed and preserved, when
they are laid up in a pure conscience. The
doctrine of faith can not be received into; nor
laid up in the soul, but by that faith which
believes it, and that faith hath no being,
without believing that doctrine. And both
are fitly called the mystery of faith. The
doctrine is mysterious, and it is a mysterious
work, to beget faith in the heart to receive it.
For the things we must believe, are very high
and heavenly, and our hearts are earthly and
In our coll-
base till the spirit renew them.
5S2
EXPOSITION OF THE CREED.
fession of faith we have both expressed. The
first word, is a profession of faith, which re-
ceives the doctrine as true, I believe ; and the
articles themselves contain the sum of the
doctrine believed. And if we who profess
this faith, have within us pure consciences,
wherein the mystery of faith—the doctrine of
faith believed, and the grace of faith believ-
ing it, both together as one—may reside,
dwell, and be preserved, then is the text com-
pletely answered in the present subject.
Remember, then, since we profess this
faith, which is the proper seat of faith. Not
our books, our tongues only, or memories, or
judgment, but our conscience ; and not our
natural conscience defiled and stuffed with
sin, but renewed and sanctified by grace.
Holding the mystery of faith in a pure con-
science.
I believe in God the Father :
Not to insist here on the nature of faith,
taking it as comprehensively as we can, it is
no other than a supernatural belief of God,
and confidence in him. Whether we call
God, or the word of God, the object of faith,
there is no material difference; for it is God
in the word, as revealed by the word, that is
that object. God is that veritas incomplera
(as they speak) which faith embraces; and
the word, the veritas complea a which contains
what we are to conceive of God, and to be-
lieve concerning him. As in the gospel, the
peculiar object of that faith which saves fallen
man, it is all one whether we say it is Christ
or the promises; for it is Christ revealed and
held forth in the promises, that faith lays
hold on. In him are all the promises of God,
$/ea, and in him, Amen. 2 Cor. i. 20. So that
it is all one act of faith that lays hold on
Christ, and on the promises, for they are all
one: he is in them, and therefore faith rests
on them, because they include Christ who is
Our rest and our peace; as a man at once re-
ceives a ring and the precious stone that is
set in it... This once rightly understood, any
further dispute about placing faith in the un-
derstanding or in the will, is, possibly, in it-
self not at all needful : sure I am, it is no way
useful for you. Take heed of carnal, profane
presumption, for that will undo you; and la-
bor to be sure of such a faith as dwells in a
pure conscience, and it will be sure not to de-
celve you.
That confidence which this expression
bears, believing in God, supposes certainly
(as all agree), a right belief concerning God,
both that he is, and what he is, according as
the word reveals him : especially what he is
relating to us. These three we have togeth-
er, Heb. xi. 6. He that cometh to God must
believe that God is, and that he is a rewarder
of them that diligently seek him. 1. That
he is. 2. To trust his word, believing that
he is true to his promises, a rewarder of them
that seek him. 3. Upon these follows com-
*ng to him, which is this believing in that
God which the apostle speaks of, that reli-
ance and resting of the soul upon him, which
results from that right belief concerning him.
and trusting the testimony of his word, as it
reveals him.
We have discoursed of the attributes of
God elsewhere, as also of the Trinity, which
is here expressed in these words: I believe
in God the Father, the Son, and the Holy
Ghost. That sublime mystery is to be cau-
tiously treated of, and rather humbly to be
admired, than curiously dived into. The day
will come (truly, a day, for here we are be-
set with the gloomy nightly shades of igno-
rance), wherein we shall see him as he is.
1 John iii. 2. In the meantime, let us de-
voutly worship him, as he has revealed him-
self to us; for this is the true way to that
heavenly country where we shall see him
face to face. And it is our interest here to
believe the Trinity of persons in the Unity
of the Godhead, and to trust in them as such :
for this is the spring of all our hope, that the
Middle of the THREE became our Mediator,
and the Holy Spirit our guide and teacher,
and the Father reconciles us to himself by
the Son, and renews us by the Spirit.
The Father.] First, the Father of his only
begotten Son, Christ, and through him, our
Father by the grace of adoption. And so
Christ does clearly insinuate the order of
our filiation: I ascend to my Father and
your Father, my God and your God. He
says not, to our Father, but, to my Father and
your Father ; first mine, and then yours
through me.
Almighty.] This also belongs to the at-
tributes of God ; so we shall be but short on
it here. Almighty, able in himself to do all
things, and the source of all power in others,
all the power in the creature being derived
from him; so that it can not altogether equal
his, nor resist him, no, nor at all be without
him. Whosoever they be who boast in their
own strength in any kind, and swell highest
in conceit of it, they are yet but as brittle
glass in the hand of God: he can not only
break it to pieces by the strength of his hand,
but if he do but withdraw his hand from Sup-
porting it, it will fall and break of itself.
Maker of heaven and earth.] The Son
and the Spirit were, with the Father, authors
of the creation: but it is ascribed to the Fa-
ther, particularly in regard of the order and
manner bf their working. Whether natural
reason may evince the creation of the world,
we will not dispute; we know that he who
had very much of that, and who is the great
master of it in the schools, could not see it
by that light. Yet there is enough in reason
to answer all the false cavils of profane men,
and very much to justify the truth of this
we believe. However, we must endeavor to
believe it by Divine faith, according to that
of the apostle, Heb. xi. 3. . By faith we be-
lieve that the worlds were#: by the word
of God. And this is the first article we meet
withal in the Scriptures, and our faith is put
EXPOSITION OF THE CREED.
583
to it in a very high point in the very en-
trance, Gen. i. 1. In the beginning God
made the heaven and the earth :—speaking
like himself; it is not proved by demonstra-
tions, or any kind of arguments, but is as-
serted by the authority of God. And with
that which begins the books of the law,
John begins his gospel; that upon his word
who, by his word, made the world, we may
believe that he did so. This is fitly added to
the title of Almighty, as a work of almighty
power, and therefore a clear testimony of
it ; and both together well suit with our pro-
fession of believing in him. For this is a
main support of our faith, to be persuaded
of his power on whom we trust. Our God
is able to deliver us, said they, Dan. iii. 17.
And Abraham, the apostle says, offered up
his son, accounting (or reasoning with him-
self, or laying his reckoning) that God was
ahle to raise him from the dead, Heb. xi. 19.
We make more bold to speak out our own
questioning of the love and good-will of
God, because we think we have some reason
in that from our own unworthiness; but if
we would sound our own hearts, we should
often find in our distrust some secret doubt-
ings of God's power, Psalm lxxviii. 19. Can
God prepare a table in the wilderness 2 said
they ; though accustomed to miracles, yet
still unbelieving. We think we are strongly
enough persuaded of this, but our hearts de-
ceive us. Quae scimus clim necesse non est,
ea in necessitate nescimus, says Bernard :
The things which we seem to know when it
is not necessary for us to know them, we
find, when necessary, that we know not.
The heart is deceitful, Jer. xvii. 9—where he
is speaking of trusting. It is not for nothing,
that God by his prophets so often inculcates
this doctrine of his power, and this great in-
stance of it, the creation, when he promises
great deliverances to his church, and the de-
struction of their enemies. See Isa. xlv. 12,
and li, 12. What can be too hard for him,
who found it not too hard to make a world
of nothing ? If thou look on the public, the
enemies of the church are strong : if on thy-
self, thou hast indeed strong corruptions
within, and strong temptations without: yet,
none of these are almighty, as thy God is.
What is it thou wouldst have done, that he
can lot do if he think fit? And if he think
it not fit, if thou art one of his children, thou
wilt think with him ; thou wilt reverence his
wisdon, and rest satisfied with his will.
This isbelieving indeed; the rolling all our
desires and burdens over upon an almighty
God, and where this is, it can not choose but
establish he heart in the midst of troubles,
and give i a calm within in the midst of the
greatest Stºrms.
And try rhat other confidences you will,
they shall pove vain and lying in the day of
trouble. He that thinks to quiet his mind
and find rest y worldly comfort, is, as Solo-
mon compare, his drunkard, like one that
lieth down in the midst of the sea, or, that
sleepeth on the top of a mast, Prov. xxiii. 34:
he can have but unsettled rest and repose
that lies there. But he that trusteth in the
Lord, is as Mount Sion that can not be re-
moved. Psalm crxv. 1. When we lean upon
other props beside God, they prove broken
reeds, that not only fail, but pierce the hand
that leans on them. Jer. xvii. 7.
There is yet another thing in this article,
which serves further to uphold our faith, that
of necessity. He who made the world by his
power, doth likewise rule it by his providence.
It is so great a fabric as can not be upheld
and governed by any less power than that
which made it. He did not frame this world
as the carpenter his ship, to put it into other
hands and look no more after it ; but as he
made it, so he is the continual pilot of it, sits
still at the helm, and guides it ; yea, he
commands the winds and seas, and they obey
him. And this serves much for the comfort
of the godly, but I can not here insist on it.
And in Jesus Christ.]
The two great works of God, by which he
is known to us, are creation and redemption,
which is a new or second creation. The Son
of God, as God, was with the Father, as the
worker of the former ; but as God-man, he is
the author of the latter. St. John begins his
gospel with the first, and from that passes on
to the second. In the beginning was the
Word—by him were all things made. But at
verse 14, the other is expressed: The Word
was made flesh, and he dwelt among us, had
a tent like ours, and made of the same mate-
rials. He adds, He was full of grace ºš
truth; and for this end (as there follows);
that we might all receive of his fulness, grace
for grace. And this is that great work of
new creation. Therefore the prophet Isaiah,
foretelling this great work from the Lord's
own mouth, speaks of it in these terms, ch.
li. 16: That I may plant the heavens and lay
the foundation of the earth, and say unto Sion,
Thou art my people. That making of a new
people to himself in Christ, is as the framing
of heaven and earth. Now this restoration
by Jesus Christ, supposes the ruin and mise-
ry of man by his fall, that sin and death un-
der which he is born. This we all seem to
know, and acknowledge, and well we may,
for we daily feel the woful fruits of that bitter
root; but the truth is, the greatest part of us
are not fully convinced, and therefore do not
consider this gulf of wretchedness into which
we are fallen. If we were, there would be
more cries among us for help to be drawn out
and delivered from it: this great Deliverer,
this Savior would be of moreuse, and of more
esteem with us. But I can not now insist On
that point. *
Only consider, that this makes the necessi-
ty of a Mediator. The disunion and distance
which sin hath made between God and man,
can not be made up but by a Mediator, one to
come between; só that there is now no be.
584
EXPOSITION OF THE CREED.
lieving in God the Father, but by this believ-
ing in Jesus his Son; no appearing without
horror, yea, without perdition, before so just
a Judge highly offended, but by the interven-
tion of so powerful a Reconciler, able to satis-
fy and appease him. And he tells it us plainly
and graciously, that we mistake not our way,
No man cometh unto the Father but by me,
John xiv. 6.
Few are our thoughts concerning God and
returning to him ; but if we have any, this is
our unhappiness, that naturally we are sub-
ject to leave out Christ in them. We think
there is something to be done : we talk of re-
pentance, of prayer, and of amendment, though
we have not these neither. But if we had
these, there is yet one thing necessary above
all these, which we forget; there is absolute
need of a Mediator to make our peace, and
restore us into favor with God, one who must
for that end do and suffer for us what we can
neither do nor suffer. Though we could shed
rivers of tears, they can not wash out the
stain of any one sin; yea, there is some pol-
lution in our very tears, so that they them-
selves have need to be washed in the blood
of Jesus Christ.
Jesus Christ.] Our anointed Savior, anoint-
ed to be our King, our great High Priest, and
our Prophet, and in all these, our Savior: our
prophet to teach us the way of salvation, our
riest to purchase it for us, and our king to
ead and protect us in the way, and to bring
us safe to the end of it. Thus is his name
full of sweetness and comfort, Mel in ore, in
aure melos, in corde medicina, as Bernard
speaks: Honey in the mouth, music to the
ear, a cordial to the heart. It is a rich oint-
ment, and, in the preaching of the gospel, an
ointment poured forth (Cant. i. 3), diffusing
its fragrant smell, for which the virgins, the
chaste, purified souls of believers, love him ;
such as have their senses eacercised, as the
apostle speaks (Hebrews v. 14), their spiritual
smelling not obstructed with the pollutions of
the world, but quick and open to receive and
be refreshed with the smell of this precious
name of Jesus.
His only Son.] Other sons he hath, angels
and men, by creation, and adoption, but this
his only begotten Son, as God, by eternal and
ineffable generation, and as man, peculiarly
the Son of God, both in regard of his singular
unexampled conception by the Holy Ghost,
and by that personal union with the Deity
which accompanied that conception, and by
that fulness of all grace which flowed from
that union. The unfolding of these would
require a long time, and, after all, more
would remain unsaid and unconceived by us;
#. his generation who can declare 2 Isaiah
iii. 8.
Let us remember this, that our sonship is
the product of his.
Son of God, and yet, To as many as receive
him, he gave this privilege, to be the sons of
God, John i. 12 and 14.
He is the only begotten.
Our Lord.] Both by our loyal subjection
to him, and our peculiar interest in him :
these go together. Willing subjection and
obedience to his laws, is an inseparable com-
panion, and therefore a certain evidence of
our interest in his grace.
Conceived by the Holy Ghost.]
This is that great mystery of godliness,
God manifested in the flesh ; the King of
Glory after a manner divesting himself of his
royal robes, and truly putting on the form of
a servant, the Holy Ghost framing him a
body in the Virgin's womb. Not that it was
impossible to have made his human na-
ture sinless in the ordinary way (though the
schools usually give that reason), but that by
that miraculous and peculiar manner of birth,
he might be declared to be more than man, as
being a way more congruous both to the great-
ness of his person and the purity of his human
Inature.
Born of the Virgin Mary.]
He was not only of the same nature with
man, which he might have been by a new-
created humanity, but of the same stock, and
so, a fit Savior, a near kinsman, as the word
which in Hebrew is a Redeemer, doth signi-
fy ; bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh.
We see, then, the person of our Mediator is
very fit for that his office, having both the
natures of the parties at variance which he
was to reconcile. And this happy meeting of
God and man in the person of Christ, to look
no further, was a very great step to the agree.
ment, and a strong pledge of its accomplish-
ment. To see the nature of man who was an
enemy, received into so close embraces with
the Deity, as within the compass of one per-
son, promised infallibly a reconcilement of
the persons of men unto God. There the
treaty of peace began, and was exceedingly
promoted by that very beginning, so that, in
it, there was a sure presage of the success:
it was indeed, as they say of a good begin-
ning, dimidium facti, half done. Had God
and man treated anywhere but in the }.
of Christ, a peace had never been concluded,
yea, it had broken up first ; but being in him,
it could not fail, for in him they were already
one, one person, so there they could not but
agree. God was in Christ, reconciling the
world to himself. 2 Cor. v. 19. . .
Considering the work to be done in this
agreement, as well as the persons o be
agreed, it was altogether needful thit the
Undertaker should be God and man, Hamana
Divinitas et Divina humanitas. The media-
tion was not a bare matter of word, but there
was such a wrong done as required a Satis-
faction should be made. We speak not of
what God might absolutely have done, but
what was to be done suitable to 3od's end,
which was for the joint glory of ustice and
mercy, that mercy and truth migº meet, and
righteousness and peace kiss eachother. And
because the party offending wa not able for
it, he that would effectually sue or him, must
EXPOSITION OF THE CREED.
585
likewise satisfy for him. And this Jesus
Christ did, as here follows. Now, that he
might do this, it was necessary that he should
be God able to save, and man fit to save man ;
man that he might suffer, and God that his
sufferings might be satisfying: man that he
might die, and God that his death might have
value to purchase life to us.
The Son was fit to be incarnate for this
work, the Middle Person in the Godhead to
be man's mediator with God. That which
we had lost, was, the dignity of the sons of
God, and therefore his only Son alone was
fit to restore us to it. The beauty defaced in
us was, the image of God; therefore the re-
pairing and reimparting of it was a fit work
for his purest and most perfect image, his Son,
the character of his person, Heb. i. 3.
Now, this incarnation of the Word, the Son
of God, is the foundation of all our hopes;
the sense of that great promise, The seed of
the woman shall bruise the serpent’s head, and
of many others of the same substance in the
prophets; the great salvation so often foretold,
and so long expected by the Jews. When
this was fulfilled, that a virgin did conceive
by the Holy Ghost, then did the heavens drop
down righteousness from above, and the earth
bring forth salvation. Isa. xlv. 8. This seems
to be that which the church did so earnestly
wish, Oh, that thou wert as my brother J Cant.
viii. 1.
Suffered under Pontius Pilate.]
Though all his life was one continual act
of suffering, from his living in the cratch to
his hanging on the cross, yet, because of the
shortness of this confession, as likewise be-
cause this last act was the greatest, and most
remarkable of his sufferings, and the Scrip-
ture itself doth, as such, mention it most fre-
quently, therefore it is here immediately sub-
joined to the article of his birth.
It is not for nothing that we have the name
of the Roman judge here expressed, under
whom he suffered : though it is nothing to his
credit, yet it is to the credit of Divine wis-
dom, even this ; considering the nature and
end of Christ's death, it being to satisfy a pro-
nounced sentence of justice, though for others,
it was a very agreeable circumstance, that
ne should not be suddenly or tumultuarily
murdered, but be judicially, though unjustly,
condemned.
Crucified.] Besides, it made his sufferings
more public and solemn: and the Divine prov-
idence ordered this, that he should suffer un-
der a Roman judge, and so fall under this
Roman kind of punishment, being in itself a
very shameful and painful kind of death, and,
by the sentence of the law, accursed, that we
might have the more evidence of our deliver-
ance from that shame, and pain, and curse,
that were due to us. The chastisement of
our peace was upon him, says the prophet,
ſº *y his stripes we are healed. Isaiah
Ill. O.
Suffered.] That he died, and what kind
of death, you see, is expressed. But as many
particular sufferings of his body are not here
mentioned, so none of those of his soul, but
all are comprehended in this general word,
He suffered. Those were too great to be
duly expressed in so short a form, and there-
fore are better expressed by supposing them,
and including them only, in this, He suffered.
As he that drew the father, among others, be-
holding the sacrificing of his own daughter,
signified the grief of the rest in their gestures,
and visages, and tears, but drew the father
veiled; so here, the crucifying and death of
Our Savior are expressed, but the unspeakable
conflicts of his soul are veiled under the gen-
eral term of suffering. But surely, that in-
visible cup which came from his Father's
hand, was far more bitter than the gall and
vinegar from the hand of his enemies; the
piercing of his soul, far sharper than the
nails and thorns. He could answer these
sweetly with, Father, forgive them, for they
know not what they do. But those other
pangs drew from him another kind of word,
My,God, my God, why hast thou forsaken
772e
Died.] No less would serve, and therefore
he was obedient even unto the death, as the
sentence against us did bear, and the sacri-
fice of the law did prefigure. When the sac-
rifices drew back and went unwillingly to the
place, the heathens accounted it an ill pres-
age. Never was sacrifice more willing than
Christ. I lay down my life for my sheep,
says he, and no man taketh it from me, John
x. 15, 18. As a sheep before the shearers is
dumb, so he opened not his mouth. He gave
his back to the smiters. Isa. liii. 7. For this
hour came I into the world, John Xviii. 37. And
this death is our life : though by it we are
not freed from this temporal death, yet, which
is infinitely more, we are delivered from eter-
nal death, and which is yet more, entitled to
eternal life ; and therefore do no more suffer
this temporal death as a curse, but enjoy it as:
a blessing, and may look upon it now (such.
as are in Christ, none other) not only as a day
of deliverance, but of coronation, the exchange.
of our present rags for long white robes, and
a crown that fadeth not away.
Buried.] For the further assurance of his.
death and glory of his resurrection; as like-
wise to commend the grave to us, as now a
very sweet resting-place; he hath warmed
the cold bed of the grave to a Christian, that
he needs not fear to lie down in it, nor doubt
that he shall rise again, as we know, and are:
after to hear that he did.
Descended into hell.] . The more noise
there hath been about this clause, I shall
make the less. The conceit of the de-
scent of Christ's soul into the place of the
damned, to say no more nor harder of it, can
never be made the necessary sense of these
words: nor is there any other ground in
scripture, or any due end of such a descent,.
either agreed on, or at all allegeable, to per-
74
586.
EXPOSITION OF THE CREED.
suade the choosing of it as the best sense of
them. Not to contest other interpretations,
I conceive, with submission, that it differs
not much, possibly nothing, from the plain
word of his burial. Not that the author or
authors of this so brief a confession, would
express one thing by divers words, but that,
it may be, in the more ancient copies, only
the one of them hath been in the text, and in
after copies, in transcribers’ hands, the other
hath crept into it out of the margin. But re-
taining it by all means as it is, it may signi-
fy the abode and continuance of Christ's body
in the grave; in which time he seems to have
been swallowed up of death, and that the pit
had shut her mouth on him ; but it appeared
quickly otherwise, for, The third day he
arose from the dead.
Refl. 1. These are great things indeed
which are spoken concerning Jesus Christ,
his birth and sufferings; but the greater our
unhappiness if we have no portion in them.
To hear of them only, and to enjoy nothing
of them, is most miserable; and thus it is
through our unbelief. Were it as common
to believe in him, as to repeat these words,
or to come to church and hear this gospel
preached, then you would all make pretty
good plea on it. But believe it, it is anoth-
er kind of thing to believe than all that, or than
anything that, the most of us yet know. My
brethren, do not deceive yourselves. That
Common highway faith will not serve; you
are, for all that, still unbelievers in Christ's
account ; and if so, for all the riches of com-
fort that are in him, you can receive none
from him. It is a sad word that he says, Be-
Cause ye believe not in me, ye shall die in your
sins. John viii. 21. As if he should say,
Though I died for sins, not mine own, but
others, yet, you remaining in ungodliness and
unbelief, that shall do you no good ; ye shall
die in your sins for all that. It is such a faith
as endears Christ to the soul, unites it to him,
makes Christ and it one, that makes all that
is his to become ours. Then, we shall con-
clude aright, Christ hath suffered, therefore I
shall not. As he said to them who came to
take him, Is it I you seek? then let these go
free 3 so, to the law and the justice of God,
he says, seeing you have sought and laid hold
on me, and made me suffer, let these go free
who lay hold on me by faith: if you have
anything to say to them, I am to answer for
them, yea, I have done it already.
2. You that believe and live by this death,
be often in reviewing it and meditating on it,
that your souls may be ravished with the ad-
‘miration of such love, and warmed with a re-
flex love to him. Mira Dei dignitas, mira
indignitas nostra. Other wonders, as you
say, last for a while, but this is a lasting won-
der; not to the ignorant—the cause of won-
der at other things is ignorance indeed, but
this is an everlasting wonder to those who
know it best, viz., to the very angels. Let
that loved Jesus be fixed in your hearts, who
was for you nailed to the cross: Donec totus
fiarus in corde, qui tolus fiarus in cruce. St.
Bernard wonders that men should think on
anything else: Quantae, insanae post tanti Re-
gis adventum aliis negotiis Surely it is
great folly, to think and esteem much of any-
thing here, after his appearing: the sun ari-
sing drowns all the stars. And withal, be
daily crucifying sin in yourselves, be avenged
on it for his sake, and kill it because it killed
him.
3. Will you think anything hard to do or
suffer for him, who undertook and performed
to the full so much for you ? If you had rath-
er be your own than Christ's, much good do
it you with yourselves; but know that if you
are not Christ's, but your own, you must look
for as little of him to be yours. If ye be your
own, you must bear all your own sins, and
all the wrath that is due to them. But if you
like not that, and resolve to be no more your
own, but Christ's, then what have you to do
but cheerfully to embrace, yea, earnestly to
seek all opportunities to do him service 2
4. These are the steps of Christ's humilia-
tion ; look on them, then, so as to study to be
like him particularly in that. Surely, the
soul that hath most of Christ, hath most hu-
mility. It is the lesson he peculiarly recom-
mends to us from his own example, which is
the shortest and most effectual way of teach-
ing: Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly
of heart. Matt. xi. 29. He says well, Eru-
bescat homo superbus esse, propter quem hu-
milis factus est Deus: Let man be ashamed
to be any longer proud, for whom God him-
self humbled himself so low. Intolerabilis
est impudentia, ut ubi se eaſinanivil majestas,
vermiculus infletwr et intumescat. He be-
came humble to expiate our pride, and yet we
will not banish that pride which undid us,
and follow that way of salvation which is hu-
mility. Jesus Christ is indeed the lily of the
valleys; he grows nowhere but in the hum-
ble heart.
Rose again the third day.] When hum-
bled to the lowest, then nearest to his exalta-
tion, as Joseph in the prison. He could die,
for he was a man, and a man for that pur-
pose, that he might die; but he could not be
overcome by death, for he was God: yea, by
dying, he overcame death, and so showed
himself truly the Lord of life. He strangled
that lion in his own den. The whale swal-
lowed Jonah, but it could not digest him ; it
was forced to cast him up again at the ap-
pointed time, the same with the time here
specified, wherein the prophet was a figure
of this great prophet, Jesus Christ. The
grave hath a terrible appetite ; it devours all,
and still cries, give, give, and never hath
enough, as Agur says; yet, for all its appe-
tite, Christ was too great a morsel for it to
digest, too strong a prisoner for all its bars
and iron gates to keep him in. It was impos-
sible he should be holden of it, says St. Peter.
Acts ii. 24.
EXPOSITION OF THE CREED.
587
He hath made a breach through death,
opened up a passage on the other side of it
into life, though otherwise, indeed vestigia
nulla retrorsum. They who believe, who
lay hold on him by faith, they come through
with him, follow him out at the same breach,
pass through death into heaven. But the
rest find not the passage out ; it is as the Red
sea, passable only to the Israelites; therefore,
they must of necessity sink quite downward
through the grave into hell, through the first
death into the second, and that is the most ter-
rible of all. That death is indeed what one
called the other the most terrible of all terri-
bles—the king of terrors, as it is in Job.
Now, the only assurance of that happy sec-
ond resurrection to the life of glory hereafter
is, the first resurrection here to the life of
grace. Blessed are they that are partakers of
the first resurrection, for on such the second
death hath no power. Rev. xx. 6. For the
resurrection of Jesus Christ is, to the believer,
the evidence of his redemption completed,
that all was paid by Christ, as our surety,
and so, he set at liberty: which the apostle
teaches us, when he says, He arose for our
ºrighteousness ; and again, It is God that jus-
tifies : who shall condemn 2. It is Christ that
died, or rather that is risen again. Rom. viii.
33. Nor is it only the pattern and pledge of
a believer’s resurrection, but it is the efficient
cause both of that last resurrection of his body
to glory, and of the first of his soul to grace.
The life of a believer is derived and flows
forth from Christ as his head, and is mys-
tically one life with his, and therefore, as
himself expresseth it, because I live, ye shall
live also. John xiv. 19. Therefore is he
called the the first begotten from the dead
and the beginning, 'Ev' rigºv ſportio. Col. i.
18. He is first in all, and from him spring all
those streams that make glad the city of God.
Therefore the apostle, in his thanksgiving for
our new life and lively hopes, 1 Pet. i. 3,
leaves not out that, Blessed be God, the Fa-
ther of our Lord Jesus Christ ; that is the
conduit of all. And he expresses it in the
same place, that we are begotten again to a
lively hope, by the resurrection of Jesus from
the dead. But, alas ! we prejudge ourselves
of all that rich comfort that is wrapped up in
this, by living to ourselves and our lusts, and
to the world, having not our consciences pu-
rified from dead works. How few of us are
there who set that ambition of Paul before us,
desiring above all things to know him and the
power of his resurrection, to be made con-
formable unto his death 1 Phil. iii. 10. That
is the knowledge, as he there expresses it, a
lively experienced knowledge of that power.
This rightly considered, will answer all our
doubts and fears in the church's hardest
times. When in its deliverance there ap-
pears, nothing but impossibilities, when so
low that its enemies are persuaded to con-
clude that it shall never rise again, and its
friends are oppressed with fearing so much,
yet, he who brought up his own Son Jesus
from the dead, can and will restore his church,
for which he gave his only begotten Son to
the death. Son of man, says he, can these
dry bones live 2 Ezek. xxxii. 3. Thus often
looks the church's deliverance, which is there
the proper sense. The prophet answered
most wisely, Lord, thou knowest ; q. d. It is
a work only for thee to know and to do; and
by his Spirit they were revived. And so here,
it looked hopeless as the disciples thought ;
they were at the point of giving it over, and
blaming almost their former credulity: We
thought this should have been he that should
have delivered Israel ; and besides all this,
to-day is the third day. True, the third day
was come, but it was not yet ended ; yea,
he rose in the beginning of it, though they
as yet knew it not, nor him to be present to
whom they spake ; but toward the end of it,
they likewise knew that he was risen, when
he was pleased to discover himself to them.
Thus, though the enemies of the church pre-
wail so far against it, that it seems buried,
and a stone laid to the grave's mouth, yet, it
shall rise again, and at the very fittest, the
appointed time, as Christ the third day.
Thus the church expresses her confidence,
Hos. vi. 2: In the third day he will raise us
wp. Whatsoever it suffers it shall gain by it,
and be more beautiful and glorious in its
restorement. Mergas profundo, pulchrior
eacilit.
He ascended into heaven.] He rose again,
not to remain on earth as before, but to
return to his throne of majesty, whence
his love drew him, according to his prayer,
John xvii., which was a certain prediction of
it. He had now accomplished the great
work he came for, and was therefore, by the
covenant and transaction between his Father
and him, to be exalted to his former glory;
the same person as before, but with the ac-
cession of another nature, which he had not
before, and of a new relative dignity, being
to sit as king of his church, which he had
purchased with his blood. And to express
this, it is added,
And sitteth at the right hand of God, the
Father.]. See Psalm cy, 1 ; Ephes. i. 20, 21.
By which, according to his allusive sense, is
expressed, not only his matchless glory, but
his dominion and rule as Prince of Peace, the
alone king of his church, her supreme law-
giver and mighty protector, and conqueror of
all his enemies; ruling his holy hill of Zion,
with the golden sceptre of his word, and
breaking his enemies, the strongest of them,
in pieces with the iron rod of his justice, as
we have it in the second Psalm. They at-
tempt in vain to unsettle his throne; it is
very far out of their reach, as high as the
right hand of God. For ever, Q. God, thy
throne is established in heaven | What way
is there for the worms of this earth to do any
thing against it 2 o
As in these is the glory of Christ, so, they
588
EXPOSITION OF THE CREED.
contain much comfort to a Christian. In
that very elevation of our nature to such dig-
nity, is, indeed, as the ancients speak, mira
dignatio; that our flesh is exalted above all
the glorious spirits, the angels. And they
adore the nature of man, in the person of
man's glorified Savior, the Son of God. This
exaltation of Jesus Christ doth so reflect a
dignity on the nature of mankind. But the
right and possession of it, is not universal,
but is contracted and appropriate to them
that believe on him. He took not on him the
nature of angels, says the apostle, but the
nature of the seed of Abraham. Heb. ii. 16.
He says not, the nature of man, though it is
so, but, of the seed of Abraham ; not so much
because of his descent from that particular
stock after the flesh, as in the spiritual sense
of Abraham's seed, as it is at large cleared,
Rom. ix. The rest of mankind forfeit all that
dignity and benefit that arise to their nature
in Christ, by their distance and disunion from
him through unbelief. But the believer hath
not only naturally one kind of being with the
humanity of Christ, but is mystically one with
the person of Christ, with whole Christ, God-
man. And by virtue of that mysterious union,
they who partake of it, partake of the very
present happiness and glory of Christ: they
have a real interest in whatsoever he is and
hath, in all his dignities and power; and in
that sense, they who are justified are glorifi-
ed. Rom. viii. 30. In that Christ is exalted,
they are so too in him. Where a part, and
the chief part of themselves, is, and is in hon-
or, there may they account themselves to be.
Ubi portio mea, regnat, ibi me regnare credo.
A man is said to be crowned, when the crown
is set upon his head ; now, our Head, Christ,
is already crowned.
In sum, believers have, in this ascending
and enthroning of Christ, unspeakable com-
fort through their interest in Christ, both in
consideration of his present affection to them,
and his effectual intercession for them, and
in the assured hope which this gives them
; their own after happiness and glory with
III].
First, In all his glory he forgets them not.
He puts not off his bowels with his low con-
dition here, but hath carried it along to his
throne. Bene conveniunt, et in una sede mo-
fantur, majestas et amor. His majesty and
love suit very well, and both in their highest
degree. As all the waters of his sufferings
did not quench his love, nor left he it behind
him buried in the grave, but it arose with
him, being stronger than death; so, he let it
not fall to the earth when he ascended on
high, but it ascended with him, and he still
retains it in his glory. And that our flesh
which he assumed on earth, he took up into
heaven, as a token of indissoluble love be-
tween him and those whom he redeemed,
and sends down thence, as the rich token of
his love, his Spirit into their hearts; so that
these are mutual remembrances. Can he for-
get his own on earth, having their flesh so
closely united to him 2 You see he does not;
he feels what they suffer. Saul, Saul, why
persecutest thou ME 3. And can they forget
him whose Spirit dwells in them, and records
lively to their hearts the passages of his love,
and brings all those things to their remem-
brance (as himself tells us, that Spirit would
do), and so proves indeed THE CoMFoRTER, by
representing unto us that his love, the spring
of our comforts 2 And when we send up our
requests, we know of a friend before us there,
a most true and a most faithful friend, who
fails not to speak for us what we say, and
much more. He liveth, says the apostle, to
make intercession for us. Heb. vii. 25. This
is the ground of a Christian's boldness at the
throne of grace : yea, therefore is the Fa-
ther's throne the throne of grace to us, be-
cause the throne of our Mediator, Jesus Christ,
is beside it: he sits at his right hand, other-
wise it could be nothing to us but a throne of
justice, and so, in regard of our guiltiness, a
throne of terror and affrightment, which we
would rather flee from, than draw near unto.
Lastly, as we have the comfort of such a
friend, to prepare access to our prayers there,
which are the messengers of our souls, so, of
this, that our souls themselves, when they
remove from these houses of clay, shall find
admission there through him. And this he
tells his disciples again and again, and in
them all his own, that their interest was so
much in his ascending to his glory: I go to
prepare a place for you, that where I am,
there ye may be also. John xiv. 3.
It will not be hard to persuade them who
believe these things, and are portioners in
them, to set their hearts on them, and, for
that end, to take them off from all other
things as unworthy of them : yea, it will be
impossible for them to live without the fre-
quent and sweet thoughts of that place where
the Lord Jesus is. Yet, it is often needful to
remind them that this can not be enough done,
and, by representing these things to them, to
draw them more upward. And it is best done
in the apostle's words: If ye be risen with
Christ, mind those things that are above,
where he sits, &c. Col. iii. 1. If ye be risen
with him follow him on, let your hearts be
where he is. They that are one with him,
the blessed Seed of the woman, do find that
unity drawing them heavenward. But, alas!
the most of us are like the accursed seed of
the serpent, basely grovelling on this earth,
and licking the dust. The conversation of
the believer is in heaven, where he hath a
Savior, and whence he looks for him. Truly,
there is little of a true Christian here (and
that argues that there is little of the truth of
Christianity among us, who are altogether
here); his head in heaven, and his heart
theré, and these are the two principles of life.
Let us then suit the apostle's advice, and so
enjoy the comfort he subjoins, that by our af.
fections being above, we may know, that our
EXPOSITION OF THE CREED.
589
#. is hud with Christ in God, and therefore,
that when he, who is our life, shall appear, we
likewise shall appear with him in glory.
From thence he shall come to judge the quick
and the dead.] We have in this to consider,
1. That there is a universal judgment. 2. That
Christ is the Judge. 3. Something to be ad-
ded of the quality of the judgment. All the
three we have together, Acts xvii. 31 : Be-
cause he hath appointed a day in which he will
judge the world in righteousness, by that man
whom he hath ordained ; whereof he hath giv-
Cn assurance unto all men, in that he hath
raised him from the dead.
1. That there is a universal judgment, we
know to be the frequent doctrine of the Scrip-
tures, and it hath been ever the belief of the
godly from the beginning, as we may per-
ceive by that ancient prophecy of Enoch, re-
corded by St. Jude; and we are so to believe
it as a Divine truth. And yet, there is so
much just reason for it, that natural men, by
the few sparkles of light in their consciences,
have had some dark notions and conjectures
of it, as is evident in Plato and the Platonics,
and not only the philosophers, but the poets:
it may be, too, that they had been helped by
Some scattered glimmerings of light concern-
ing this, borrowed from the Jews, and tradi-
tionally passed from hand to hand among the
heathem, and therefore disguised and altered
after their fashion.
If we be persuaded that there is a Supreme
Ruler of the world, who is most wise and
just, and good, this will persuade us, not
only that there is some other estate and be-
ing than that we see here, appointed for man,
the most excellent, the reasonable part of this
visible world ; but that there shall be a sol-
emn judicial proceeding, in entering and in-
stating him in that after-being. The many
miseries of this present life, and that the best
of men are usually deepest sharers in them,
though it hath a little staggered, not only
wise heathens, but sometimes some of the
prime saints of God, yet, it hath never pre-
vailed with any but brutal and debauched
spirits, to conclude against Divine providence,
but rather to resolve upon this, that of neces-
sity there must be another kind of issue, a
final catastrophe, reducing all the present
confusions into order, and making odds even,
as you say. Cum res hominum tanta caligine
volvi. [CLAUDIAN.] It is true, that some-
times here, the Lord’s right hand finds out
his enemies, and is known by the judgment
which he executes on them ; and, on the
other side, he gives some instances of his gra-
clous providence to his church, and to partic-
ular godly men, even before the sons of men ;
but these are but some few preludes and
pledges of that great Judgment. Some he
gives, that we forget not his justice and
goodness; but much is reserved, that we ex-
pect not all, nor the most here, but hereafter.
And it is certainly most congruous, that this
be done, not only in each particular apart, but
most conspicuously in all together, that the
justice and mercy of God may not only be
accomplished, but acknowledged and magni-
fied, and that, not only severally in the sev-
eral persons of men and angels, but univer-
Sally, jointly, and manifestly in the view of
all, as upon one theatre, angels and men be-
ing at once, some of them the objects of that
justice, others of mercy, but all of them spec-
tators of both. Each ungodly man shall not
only read, whether he will or no, the justice
of God in himself and his own condemnation,
which most of them shall do before that time
in their soul's particular judgment ; but they
shall then see the same justice in all the rest
of the condemned world, and the rest, in
them ; and, to the great increase of their an-
guish, they shall see likewise the glory of that
mercy which shail then shine so bright in all
the elect of God, from which they themselves
are justly shut out, and delivered up to eter-
nal misery. And, on the other side, the godly
shall with unspeakable joy behold, not only a
part, as before, but the whole sphere both of
the justice and mercy of their God, and shall
. One voice admire and applaud him in
Oth.
Besides, the process of many men's actions
can not be full at the end of their life, as it
shall be at that day; many have very large
after-reckonings to come upon them for those
sins of others to which they are accessory,
though committed after their death ; as the
sins of ill-educated children to be laid to the
charge of their parents, the sins of such as
any have corrupted, either by their counsels
or opinions, or evil examples, &c.
2. HE, the Lord Jesus, shall be Judge in
that great day. The Father, and Spirit, and
his authority, are all one, for they are all one
God and one Judge; but it shall be particu-
larly exercised and pronounced by our Savior,
God-man, Jesus Christ. That eternal WoRD
by whom all things were made, by him all
shall be judged ; and so, he shall be THE
WoRD in that last act of time, as in the first.
He shall judicially pronounce that great and
final sentence which shall stand unalterable
in eternity; and not only as the eternal Son
of God, but withal as the Son of man, and so
shall he sit as king, and invested with all
power in heaven and earth. By that man
whom he hath appointed to judge the quick
and the dead. The same Jesus shall so come,
in like manner as ye have seen him go into
heaven. Acts xvii. 31 ; i. 11. The powers of
the world and of hell are combined against
his throne; therefore, they shall be his foot-
stool sitting on that throne. And the crown
which he hath purchased for believers, he
shall set it on their heads with his own
hand. This shall be exceeding joy and com-
fort to all that have believed on him, that
that their Redeemer shall be their Judge. He
who was judged for them, shall judge them,
and pass sentence according to that covenant
of grace which holds in him, pronouncing
590
EXPOSITION OF THE CREED.
them free from the wrath which he himself
endured for them, and heirs of that life which
he bought with his dearest blood.
And that gives no less accession to the mis-
ery of the wicked, that the same Jesus whom
they opposed and despised, so many of them
as heard anything of him, he shall sit upon
their final judgment, and pronounce sentence
against them, not partially avenging his own
quarrel on them—no word of that—but most
justly returning them the reward of their un-
godliness and unbelief. That great Shepherd
shall thus make that great separation of his
sheep from the goats.
3. Of the manner, we have thus much here,
that he shall come from heaven as the Scrip-
tures teach us, he shall visibly appear in the
air : he shall come in the clouds of heaven
with power, and great glory, Matt. xxiv. 30,
attended with innumerable companies of glo-
rious angels who shall serve him, both in the
congregating of his elect, and in separating of
them from the reprobate; but himself, in the
brightness of his own majesty, infinitely sur-
passing them all. 2 Thess. i. 7: In flaming
jire. His first coming was mean and ob-
scure, Suiting his errand, for then he came to
be judged ; but that last coming shall be glo-
rious, for he comes to judge, and his judg-
ment shall be in righteousness, Acts xvii. 31.
Juste judicabit qui injuste judicatus est. [AU-
GUSTINE.] There shall be no mis-alleging, or
mis-proving, or mis-judging there. All the
judgments of men, whether private or judi-
cial, shall be re-judged there according to
truth, by such a judge before whom all things
are naked. And not only shall he know and
judge all aright, but all they who are judged,
shall themselves be convinced that it is so.
Then all will see that none are condemned
but most deservedly, and that the Lord's jus-
tice is pure and spotless in them who perish,
as his grace is without prejudice to his jus-
tice, it being satisfied in Christ for them who
are saved. The books shall be opened, those
which men so willingly, the most of them,
keep shut and clasped up, and are so unwil-
ling to look into, their own accusing con-
sciences; the Lord will proceed formally
against the wicked according to the books:
no wrong shall be done them, they shall have
fair justice, and they shall see what they
would not look upon before, when by seeing,
that might have been blotted out, and a free
acquittance written in its stead. And that
the believer shall read in his conscience at
that day, which through the dimness of faith,
and the dark, troubled estate of his soul, he
many times could not read here below.
We are gaping still after new notions, but
a few things wisely and practically known,
drawn down from the head into the heart, are
better than all that variety of knowing that
men are so taken up with. Paucis literis
opus est ad mentem bonam. This and such
like common truths, we think we both know
and believe well enough ; but truly, if this
great point, touching the great and last judg-
ment, were indeed known and believed by us,
it would draw our minds to more frequent
and more deep thoughts of it; and were we
often and serious, in those thoughts, they
would have such influence into all our other
thoughts, and the whole course of our lives,
as would much alter the frame of them from
what they are. Did we think of this gospel
which we preach and hear, that we must
then be judged by it, we should be now more
ruled by it. But the truth is, we are willing-
ly forgetful of these things; they are melan-
choly, pensive thoughts, and we are content
that the noise of affairs or any vanities fill the
ears of our minds, that we hear them not.
If we be forced at some times to hear of this
last judgment to come, it possibly casts our
conscience into some little trembling fit for
the time, as it did Felix; but he was not, nor
are we, so happy as to be shaken out of the
custom and love of sin by it. We promise it
fair, as he did, some other time ; but if that
time never come, this day will come, and they
who shun to hear or think of it, shall then
see it, and the sight of it will be as terrible
and amazing, as the timely thoughts of it
would have been profitable. It is, no doubt,
an unpleasing subject to all ungodly, earthly
minds; but surely, it were our wisdom to be
of that mind now, that then we shall be forced
to be of: we shall then read, by the light of
that fire which shall burn the world, the vani-
ty of all those things whereon we now dote
so foolishly. Let us therefore be persuaded
to think so now, and disengage our hearts,
and fix them on him who shall then judge us.
kiss the Son, lest he be angry and ye perish
from the way, when his wrath is kindled but
a little. They only are happy who trust in
him. That which is the affrightment of others,
is their great joy and desire: they love and
long for that day, both for their Savior's glory
in it, and their own full happiness; and that
their love to his appearing, is to them a cer-
tain pledge of the crown they are to receive
at his appearing. 2 Tim. iv. 8:—at that day,
Says the apostle. This day he esteems more
of than all his days; therefore, he names it
no otherwise than that day. How may we
know what day it was he meant 2 His cor-
onation-day. But of all men, Surely, the
hypocrite likes least the mention and remem-
brance of that day: there is no room for dis-
guises there, all masks must off, and all things
appear just as they are, and that is the worst
news to him that can be.
I believe in the Holy Ghost.] God is both a
Spirit and Holy ; but this name, personally
taken, is peculiarly that of the third person,
proceeding from the Father and the Son, by
a way that can neither be expressed nor con-
ceived. Holy in himself, and the author and
cause of all holiness in us.
It is neither useful nor safe for us to en-
tangle our thoughts in disputes concerning this
mystery, but it is necessary that we know,
EXPOSITION OF THE CREED.
591
and acknowledge and believe in this Holy
Spirit. It is he in whom, and by whom we
believe. We can not know God, nor the
things of God, but by the Spirit of God, 1 Cor.
ii. 1 ; nor say that Jesus is God, but by the
same Spirit, 1 Cor. xii. 3. We know that
this holy trinity co-operates in the work of
our salvation: the Father hath given us his
Son, and the Son hath sent us his Spirit, and
the Spirit gives us faith, which unites us to
the Son, and through him to the Father. The
Father ordained our redemption, the Son
Wrought it, the holy Spirit reveals and ap-
plies it.
In the holy Catholic church..] The remain-
ing articles have the fruit of that great work,
the sending of the Son of God in the flesh, his
suffering, and dying, &c.—what it is, and to
whom it belongs; the result of Christ's incar-
mation and death, cui et cujas gratia. Yea,
the great design of God in the other great
work, that of the first creation, was this
second : he made the world that out of it he
might make this elect world, which is called
his church. The Son fell on sleep, on a dead
sleep, indeed the sleep of death on the cross,
that out of his side might be framed his spouse,
which is his church. The holy Spirit moving
upon the souls of men in their conversion,
aims at this: same end, the gathering and
completing of his church: he is the breath of
life that breathed on these new creatures who
make up this society. So then, this is as much
as to say, I verily believe that God had such
a purpose in making the world, and in send-
ing his Son into it, and they both in sending
the Spirit, and the Spirit in his working to
make a holy church, a number that should
serve God here, and enjoy him in eternity;
and I believe, that God can not fall short of
his end, that blessed trinity doth not project
and work in vain; I believe, therefore, there
is such a company, there is a holy universal
church, Universal—diffused through the
several ages, and places, and nations of the
world. Holy—washed in the blood of Christ,
and sanctified by his Spirit. That it is, which
it hath in all ages continued from the begin-
ning, and shall continue to the end of the
world, increasing still and growing to its ap-
pointed perfection, amidst all the enemies and
oppositions that it encounters in the world.
I send you forth, says Christ, as sheep among
wolves. Matt. X. 16. The preservation of the
church is a continuing miracle: it resembles
Daniel's safety among the hungry lions, but
prolonged from one age to another. The ship
wherein Christ is, may be weather-beaten,
but it shall not perish.
So then, you see that this confession is al-
together no other than your acknowledgment
of God in himself, three in one, and one in
three ; and his works of the creation of the
World, and redemption of man by his Son,
made man for that purpose, and appropriate
to them for whom it was designed by his holy
Spirit; and with this acknowledgment, our
reliance on this God as the author of our be-
ing and well-being.
The communion of saints.] This springs
immediately from the former: if they make
one church, then they have a very near com-
munion together. They are one body united
to that glorious head that is above ; they have
all one spiritual life flowing from him. And
this communion holds not only on earth and
in heaven apart, but even between heaven
and earth : the saints on earth make up the
same body with those already in glory ; they
are born to the same inheritance by new birth,
though the others are entered in possession
before them. This their common title to
spiritual blessings, and eternal blessings pre-
judges none of them: their inheritance is such
as is not lessened by the multitude of heirs:
it is entire to each one. And that grace and
salvation that flows from Christ, the Son of
Righteousness, is as the light of the sun where
it shines; none hath the less because of others
partaking of it. The happiness of the saints
is called an inheritance in light, which all
may enjoy without abatement to any. They
have each one their crown : they need not,
they do not envy one another, nor, Ottoman-
like, one brother to kill another to reign alone.
Yea, they rejoice in their happiness and sal-
vation of one another; they are glad at the
graces which God bestows on their brethren ;
for they know that they all belong to the same
first owner, and return to his glory, and that
whatsoever diversity is in them, they all agree
and concentre in that service and good of the
church ; and so, what each one hath of gifts
and graces, belongs to all by virtue of this
communion. Thus ought each of them to
think, and every one of them humbly and
charitably so to use what he hath himself,
and ingenuously to rejoice in that which
others have, as the apostle reasons at large,
1 Cor. xii. *
A holy catholic church—the communion of
saints.] We may see the worth and the ne-
cessity of holiness, how much it is regarded in
the whole work. For this very thing did Christ
give himself for his church, that he might
sanctify it, and cleanse it—that he might pre-
sent it to himself a glorious church-holy.
Eph. v. 26. So it is the end of our redemp-
tion. And if we look as far forward as Sal-
vation, there it will be perfect holiness: noth-
ing unclean shall enter that holy city, and
without holiness no man shall see God. And
look again as far back as our election: Eph.
i. 4. According as he hath chosen us in him
—that we should be holy. And those who are
not partakers of this, do, but delude them-
selves, in dreaming of an interest in the rest.
There is no washing in the blood of Christ to
remission, but withal by the Spirit to sancti"
fication ; no comfort to the unholy in their
resurrection, because no hope of that to follºw
on it, which follows here, eternal life. No,
without shall be dogs, Rev. xxii. 15, . In the
base and foolish opinion of the world, holiness
592
EXPOSITION OF THE CREED.
is a reproach, or at the best, but a mean poor
commendation, as you speak of it disdainfully,
a good, silly, holy body; and men are more
pleased with any other title: they had a great
deal rather be called learned, or wise, or stout,
or comely, than holy. Malumus audire, O
virum doctum, quam O virum bonum. [SENECA.]
But God esteems otherwise of it, whose es-
teem is the true rule of worth. That fore-
cited place, A glorious church : how 2 Holy
and without blemish. That is indeed the true
beauty of the soul, makes it like God, and
that is its comeliness. We see the Lord
himself delights to be known much by this
style, and to be glorified by it, holy, holy,
holy. So Exod. xv. 11; glorious in holiness.
And the Spirit of God is still called the holy
Spirit. How much, them, are they mistaken
concerning heaven, who think to find the way
to it out of the path of holiness, which is in-
deed via regni, the only way that leads unto
it ! Reprove you of holiness, you say ; you
are not saints. No 2 So much the worse, for
they who mean to share in the pardon of sin
and eternal life, must be such. If you be con-
tent still not to be Saints, go on: but know,
that they who are not in some measure saints
in grace here, shall never be saints in glory
hereafter.
Forgiveness of sins.] Notwithstanding
forgiveness of sins, there is a necessity of holi-
mess, though not as meriting it, yet, as lead-
ing unto happiness. But on the other side,
notwithstanding the highest point of holiness
we can attain, there is a necessity of this for-
giveness of sins. Though believers make up
a holy church and company of saints, yet,
there is a debt upon them that their holiness
prays not ; yea, they are so far from having a
surplus for a standing treasure after all is paid,
that all the holiness of the saints together
will not pay the least farthing of that debt
they owe. As for me, I will walk in mine in-
tegrity, says David, Psalm xxvi. 11. How
then 3 adds he, this shall justify me sufficient-
ly ? No, but Redeem thou me, and be merciful
to me. So, 1 John i. 6: If we say, that we
have fellowship with him, and walk in dark-
ness, we lie. And yet, in the next verse,
though we do walk in the light, yet is there
need of the blood of Jesus Christ to cleanse us
from all sin ; and so throughout the Scrip-
tures. All the integrity of the godly under
the law, did not exempt them from offering
sacrifice, which was the expiation of sin in
the figure, looking forward to that great and
spotless sacrifice that was to be slain for the
sins of the world. And those who believe the
gospel, the applićation of that justifying blood
that streams forth in the doctrine of the gos-
pel, is not only needful to wash in for their
cleansing in their first conversion, but is to be
reapplied to the soul, for taking off the daily-
contracted guiltiness of new sins. It is a foun-
tain opened and standing open for sin and for
uncleanness, as that sea of brass before the
sanctuary. They that are clean have still
need of washing, at least, their feet, as Christ
speaks to Peter, John xiii. 10.
The consideration of that precious blood
shed for our sins, is the strongest persuasive
to holiness, and to the avoiding and hating
of sin. So far is the doctrine of justification,
rightly understood, from animating men to
sin. But because of the woful continuance
of sin in the godly, while they continue in
this region of sin and death, therefore is there
a continual necessity of new recourse to this
great expiation. Thus St. John joins these
two, 1 Epis. ii. 1, 2: These things write I
wnto you, that ye sin not. And if any man
sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Je-
sus Christ the righteous ; and he is the pro-
pitiation for our sins.
You think it an easy matter, and a thing that
for your own ease you willingly believe, the
forgiveness of sins. It is easy indeed, after
our fashion; easy to imagine that we believe
such a thing when we hear it, because we let
it pass and question it not ; we think it may
be true, and think no further on it, while we
neither know truly what sin is, nor feel the
weight of our own sins. But where a soul is
convinced of the nature of sin, and its own
guiltiness, there to believe forgiveness is not
So easy a task.
In believing this forgiveness of sins, and
so, the other privileges that attend it, there
be these three things gradually leading one
to the other. 1. To believe that there is
such a thing, and that it is purchased by the
death of Christ, and so attainable by coming
unto him for it. 2. By this, the soul finding
itself ready to sink under the burden of its
own sins, is persuaded to go to him, and lay
over that load on him ; and itself withal re-
solves to rest on him for this forgiveness.
This is to believe in him who is the Lord our
righteousness. 3. Upon this believing on him
for forgiveness, follows a reflex believing of
that forgiveness; not continually and insep-
arably, especially if we take the degree of
assurance somewhat high, but yet, in itself,
it is apt to follow, and often, in God’s gra-
cious dispensation, doth follow upon that
former act of believing, through the clear-
ness and strength of faith in the soul, and
Sometimes withal is backed with an express,
peculiar testimony of God’s own Spirit. . To
believe, and to grow stronger in believing,
and to aspire to the assurance of faith, is our
constant duty; but that immediate testimo-
ny of the Spirit is an arbitrary beam that
God reserves in his own hand, yet such a
gift as we may not only lawfully seek, but do
foolishly prejudice ourselves and slight it, if
we neglect to seek it, and want so rich a
blessing for want of asking, and withal, la-
boring to keep our hearts in a due disposition
and frame for entertaining it. The keeping
of our consciences pure, as much as may be,
doth not only keep the comfortable evidence
of pardon clearest and least interrupted with-
in us, but is the likeliest to receive those
EXPOSITION
OF THE CREED. 593
pure joys which flow immediately into the
soul from the Spirit of God. The testimony
of our conscience is, if we damp it not our-
selves, our continual feast ; but that testi-
mony of the Spirit is a superadded taste of
higher comfort out of God's own hand, as it
were a piece of heaven in the soul, which
he sometimes cheers it withal, where he
hath first given much love and ardent desires
after himself: they are short of that light, in
the fulness whereof we hope to dwell here-
after. But besides that God is most free in
that particular, and knows what is fittest for
us, the greatest part even, of true Christians
yet do not so walk, nor attend to that spirit-
ualness that is capable of such visits.
The resurrection of the body..] The com-
fort of these privileges is opposed to those
grand evils that we feel or fear : sanctifica-
tion, to the power of sin; justification or for-
giveness, to the guilt of sin; the resurrec-
tion, to temporal death; and life eternal, to
the second or eternal death.
This is the raising of the self-same body
that is laid in the dust; otherwise, the giving
of a body to the soul again must have some
other name, for resurrection it can not be
called.
That God can do this, notwithstanding all
imaginable difficulties in it, have we not
proof enough in what he hath done? Surely,
that which he did in the beginning of time,
the framing of the whole world of nothing,
is more than a sufficient pledge of this which
is to be done in the end of time.
That he will do it, we have his own word
for it, and the pledge of it in raising his Son
Jesus; therefore called, The first begotten
from the dead, Col. i. 18, this as relating to
believers, who are one with him. The res-
urrection of the dead in general is an act of
power: but to the godly, it is an act of grace,
to the wicked of justice. Both shall rise by
the power of Christ, but, to the one, as a
Judge, and a Judge who shall condemn
them; to the other, as their head, and their
Savior. Joseph’s two fellow-prisoners were
both taken out of the prison, and at the same
time; but the one to the court, the other to
the gallows. So shall it be in the resurrec-
tion. John v. 29.
The confession of faith being of such things
as belong to believers and are their happi-
ness, therefore their resurrection is particu-
larly here intended, as we see eternal life
and glory is subjoined to it. Our bodies are
raised, which were companions and partakers
of our good and evil in our abode upon earth,
that they may in eternity be companions
and partakers of our reward. Those of
the ungodly, to suit their condemned souls,
shall be filled with shame, and vileness, and
misery; and those that were, in their lower
estate here, temples of the Holy Ghost, shall
be filled with that fulness of joy that shall
run over from the soul unto them: they shall
be conformable to the happy and glorious
souls to which they shall be united, yea, to
the glorious body of our Lord Jesus Christ.
There shall then be nothing but beauty, and
glory, and immortality, in them which are
now frail and mortal, and being dead, do pu-
trify and turn to dust. He shall change our
vile bodies, and make them like unto his most
glorious body. Phil. iii. 21. But, as St. Ber-
nard says well, If he would be sure of this,
that our bodies shall be conformed to his in
the glory to come, let us see that our souls
be here conformed to his, in that humility
which he so much manifested while he
dwelt among men: if we would that then
our vile body be made like his glorious body,
let our proud heart now be made like his
humble heart.
Life eternal.] Our confession of faith ends
in that which is the end of our faith, our ev-
erlasting salvation, or eternal life. Of which,
all that we can say is but stammering, and
all our knowledge and conceiting of it but
ignorance, in regard of what it is: yet, so
much we know or may know of it, as, if we
knew aright, would certainly draw us more
into the desires and pursuit of it. The very
name of life is sweet, but then especially as
it is here meant, in the purest and sweetest
sense, for a truly happy life. Non est vivere,
sed valere, vita. For a liſe full of misery is
scarcely worth the name of life, and the lon-
ger it were, the worse; therefore, the miser-
able estate of damned souls, though immor-
tal in it, is called death. So then, by this
life, true and full blessedness being meant,
and then, that added, that it is eternal life,
what can be imagined more to make it de-
sirable 2 So happy, that there shall not be
the smallest drop of any evil or bitterness in
it, pure unmixed bliss ; nothing present in it.
that is displeasing, nor anything wanting
that is delightful; and everlasting, that when
millions of years (if there were any such
reckoning there) are rolled about, it shall be
as far from ending as at the first.
A very little knowledge of this blessed life
would make us clean out of love with the
life that now we make such account of.
What can it be that ties us here ? The
known shortness of this life, were it more
happy than it is to any, might make it of
less esteem with us. But then withal, being
so full of miseries and sins, so stuffed with
sorrows round about us, and within ourselves,
that if the longest of it can be called long, it
is only the multitude of miseries in it, that
can challenge that name for it. Such a world:
of bodily diseases, here one's head paining
him, another his stomach—Quam male nobis.
convenit, nunc de ventre, nunc de capite, &c.,.
hoc contingere solet in alieno habitantibus
[SENECA]: some complaining of this part, some
of that, and the same party sometimes of
one malady, sometimes of another; what
disappointments, and disgraces, and cross en-
counters of affairs; what personal and what
public calamities; and then, sin, the worst.
75
594
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD'S PRAYER.
of all ! And yet, all can not wean us! We
can not endure to hear nor to think of remov-
ing; and the true reason is, unbelief of this
eternal life, and the neglect of those ways
that lead to it. Be persuaded at length to
call in your heart from the foolish chase of
vanity, and consider this glorious life that is
set before you. Do you think the provision
you make for this wretched present life worth
so many hours’ daily pains, and give eternal
life scarcely half a thought in many hours,
possibly not a fixed, serious thought in many
days? Surely, if you believe there is such a
thing, you can not but be convinced that it is
a most preposterous, unwise course you take,
in the expense of your time and pains upon
anything else more than on life eternal.
Think what a sad thing it will be, when
your soul must remove out of that little cot-
tage wherein it now dwells, not to be bet-
tered by the removal, but thrust out into ut-
ter darkness. Whereas, if ye would give up
with sin, and embrace Jesus Christ as your
joy and your life, in him you would present-
ly be put into a sure, unſailing right to this
eternal life. . It is a pure life, and purity of
life here is the only way to it. Blessed re
the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
EXP 0 S IT I 0 N 0 F T H E L () R D S P R AW E R.
*-
MATT. Vi. 9.
After this manner, therefore, pray ye.
THE malice and craft of Satan in reference
to good actions, works first in attempting
wholly to divert us from them ; but, if that
take not, the next is, to pervert their use, and
corrupt them so in doing, that they lose their
acceptance with God, and we consequently
lose the fruit and comfort of them. And as
there is no religious exercise that he hath
more quarrel at, and owes greater enmity to,
than prayer, being the most constant crosser
Qf his designs, there is none from which he
more endeavors to estrange men, either wholly
to lay it down, or to frequent cessations; or,
if that can not be, but the light of conscience
still calls for somewhat at least that may
pass with a man for prayer, yet, if Satan can
get it turned to hypocrisy and formality, he
knows he needs not fear it, for so it wants
the life of prayer, and remains nothing but
a dead carcass, and therefore can neither
please the living God, nor hurt him who is
its enemy.
Therefore, our Savior here warns his disci-
ples to avoid, in praying, these two evils, the
vain ostentation of hypocrites, and the vain
Tepetition of the heathen : not to think it pray-
er, to tumble out a multitude of empty words;
and upon that, takes occasion to set this
matchless copy of prayer, the way of exam-
ple being the shortest and liveliest way of
teaching. These words, which are but the
entry, are not to be passed over: there is in
them, T. The duty of prayer supposed. II.
The prescribing of this form. First, pray.
Secondly, after this manner.
T. The use and necessity of prayer is taken
for confessed, as before, verse 7: When ye
pray, and when thou prayest. And the con-
-sideration of this exercise, and of this pattern
of it, is with good reason accounted among
the most necessary principles of religion.
Without it, indeed, all religion withers and
languishes. The law of God is so pure and
exact a rule, that we can not come near the
perfection of it, and therefore fall under its
curse. When we understand it so, that
drives us to the gospel, to seek salvation
there. And the articles of the gospel, of our
Christian faith, are so high and mysterious,
that nature can not aright understand or be-
lieve them; and therefore, both law and gos-
pel drive us to prayer, to seek of God renew-
ing grace to conform our hearts in some meas-
ure to the holy law of God, and faith to lay
hold on Jesus Christ and salvation, in him
held forth to us in the gospel. Prayer is not
taken in its strict grammatical sense, in which
the words used for it signify only petition or
request; but as comprehending, together with
petition, confession and thanksgiving. It may
be called briefly and plainly, a pious invoca-
tion of God ; and, as we are not speaking ab-
stractly of prayer, but according to the estate
of fallen men, it is very fit to add the express
mention of the Mediator, that it is an invoca-
tion of God in the name of Christ ; for it
never ascends to God as pleasing incense, but
when it passeth through that golden censer,
and is perfumed with the sweet odors of his
merits and intercession. His entrance into
heaven hath opened up the way for our pray-
ers to come in, and there is no access to the
throne of grace, but by that new and living
way, as the apostle speaks, Heb. x. 20. But
how much better is the frequent practice,
than much discourse and business in defining
it ! Whatsoever is said aright in this, is for
the other as its end, as one hath it out of an
ancient philosopher, Inquirimus guid sit vir-
tus, non ut sciamus, sed ut boni efficianur :
We inquire what virtues are, not to know
them, but to have them. And indeed, to do
otherwise, is but answerable employment to
studying the nature of riches, and talking of
them, and remaining poor, possessing none.
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD'S PRAYER.
595
It is not needful to stay upon distinguishing
prayer by the different matter of petitions, or
things to be requested, which, possibly, some
of the different names of prayer in Scripture
do signify. This may suffice, that it ought to
be of such things as are conformable to the
will and promises of God, and desired with a
suitable disposition of mind; and therefore I
call it a pious invocation. It is the highest
impudence to present God with unjust or friv-
olous desires. Qua, scire homines nolunt, Deo
narrant, as Seneca speaks: They tell God
what they would not have men to know. We
ought to reverence the majesty of God, and
regard that in our requests. There is a differ-
ence between solemn prayer and sudden ejacu-
lations, but it is not a difference in their na-
ture, but only in continuance. The former is
here meant. Only this of the other, it is to
be wished that it were more known, and more
in use with Christians; for it is, no doubt, a
very happy means of preserving the heart in
a holy temper and constant regard of God in
all a man's actions, and is a main point of an-
swering the apostle's word, Pray continually.
When in company, and apart, a man useth
Secret, short motions of the soul to God, that
may be very frequent in the day, and at night;
whereas men's callings and natural necessi-
ties and employments, allow them but some
certain parcel of both for solemn prayer. And
these frequent looks of the heart to Heaven,
exceedingly sweeten and sanctify our other
employments, and diffuse somewhat of heav-
en through all our actions. Solemn prayer,
at fit times, is a visiting of God; but this
were a constant walking with him all the
day long, a lodging with him in the night.
When I awake, says David, I am still with
thee, Psalm cxxxix. 18. And these sudden
dartings of the soul heavenward, may some-
times have more swiftness and force than
larger supplications, having much spirit, as it
were, contracted into them ; and they would,
no doubt, if used, be answered with frequent
beams of God's countenance returned to the
soul, as it were in exchange. For though
whole lifetimes of prayer are not worthy the
least of those, yet it pleases God thus to keep
intercourse with those souls that love him,
and for the ejaculations of their desires to him,
looks back on them, and so they interchange
as it were sudden glances of love that answer
one another. The Lord is pleased to speak
thus himself, and the souls that know this
love understand it: Thou hast ravished my
heart, my sister, my spouse, with one of thine
eyes. Cant. iv. 9. But though such looks and
ejaculations will refresh a soul inflamed with
the love of God, yet it suffices not : they must
have times of larger and more secret converse
with their beloved, and particularly in the
exercise of solemn, continued prayer ; and, if
cut short of it at any time, they will miss it
as much as a healthful body its accustomed
repast.
But it would seem, that though there may
be some reason for confession and thanksgiv-
ing, yet, that which hath most peculiarly the
name of prayer—petition—is superfluous: he
who knows our wants better than ourselves,
and what is fittest to bestow upon us, and
forgets not all, what need we put him in
mind, and follow him with so many suits 2
This, indeed, is a strong reason against vain
babblings in prayer, and imagining to be
heard merely for long continuance and mul-
titude of words; and our Savior himself doth
here use it so, ver. 8; but withal he shows us
clearly, that it makes nothing against the ex-
ercise of prayer, in that he adds immediately
upon these words, After this manner, there-
fore, pray ye.
Although the Lord knows well our wants,
and doth according to his own good pleasure,
yet there is for prayer, 1. Duty. 2. Dignity.
3. Utility.
1. Duty. We owe this homage to God,
not only to worship him, but particularly to
offer up our supplications, and to acknowl-
edge him our king and ruler of the whole
world, and to testify our dependance upon
him, as the giver of every good gift. It is not
because he is unwilling and loath to give, for
He gives liberally and upbraids none ; yet,
says the apostle there, If any man lack wis-
dom, let him ask it. James i. 5. So, of all
wants, that which thanksgiving doth ac-
knowledge after receipt, supplication doth be-
forehand; his power, and truth, and good-
ness, &c. This is his name still, the God who
heareth prayer, and therefore this homage is
due to him, To him shall all flesh come. Ps.
lxv. 2.
2. Dignity. This is the honor of the saints,
that they are admitted to so near and frequent
converse with the great God, that they do not
only expect from him, but may so frequently
speak to him of their desires and wants, and
may pour out their complaints into his bosom.
Abraham is sensible of the greatness of this
privilege, by reflecting upon the greatness of
his distance. Gen. xviii. 27. Behold, I have
taken upon me to speak unto the Lord, who
am but dust and ashes. It is an unspeakable
honor for dust and ashes to be received into
such familiarity with the Lord of heaven and
earth.
3. Utility. . [1..] It quiets and eases, the
heart when it is troubled, to vent itself to
God. As there is some natural ease in sighs
and tears (for otherwise nature should not
have been furnished with them, nor teach us
to use them), they discharge some part of
grief, though addressed no whither, but only
let out; but more when it is in the presence
of some entire friend ; so they must be most
of all easing, when they are directed to God
in prayer. Cor serenat et purgat oratio, ca-
paciusque efficit ad excipienda divina munera:
“Prayer,” says Augustine, “calms and puri-
fies the heart, and renders it more capable of
the Divine benefits.” Mine eye poureth forth
tears unto God, says Job, Job xvi. 20; and
596
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD'S PRAYER.
David, My sighing is not hid from thee. Ps.
xxxviii. 9. Cast thy burden on the Lord, says
the psalmist. Psalm ly. 22. The Lord calls
for our burdens, would not have us wrestle
with them ourselves, but roll them over on
him. Now, the desires that are breathed
forth in prayer, are, as it were, the very un-
loading of the heart: each request that goes
forth, carries out somewhat of the burden
with it, and lays it on God. Phil. iv. 6. Be
careful in nothing, says the apostle: that were
a pleasant life indeed, if it might be ; but how
shall that be attained 2 Why, this is the only
way, says he, In all things make your requests
known unto God. Tell him what are your de-
sires, and leave them there with him, and so
you are sure to be rid of all further disquieting
care of them. Try as many ways as you will,
there is no other will free you, in difficulties,
of all perplexing thoughts, but this, and this
will do it.
[2.] In it the graces of the Spirit are exer-
cised, and they gain by that, as all habits do;
they are strengthened and increased by act-
ing. Faith, in believing the promises; and
that is the very basis of prayer: it can not
subsist without the support of faith. And
hope is raised up and set on tiptoe, dirokapadokeiv,
to look out for accomplishment. And love, it
is that which delights it, to impart its mind
to him on whom it is set, and thus to enter-
tain converse and conference with him, and
all hours seem short to it that are thus spent ;
and by this it still rises to a higher flame, it is
blown and stirred by prayer. The more the
soul converses with God, doubtless the more it
loves him.
And this speaking your desires to God in
prayer, makes the heart still more holy, in-
vites it to entertain new desires, but such as
it may confidently acquaint God withal.
[3.] In relation to the particular things de-
sired, it not only fits and disposes the heart
for receiving them as blessings, but withal it
is a real means of obtainment, by reason of
God’s own appointment, and of his promise.
He hath bound himself by his promises not to
disregard the prayers of his people. His ear
is open to their cry, says the psalmist, Psalm
xxxiv. 15. And the many instances in Scrip-
ture, and the experience of the church in all
ages, bear witness to the truth of these prom-
ises. Imminent judgments have been avert-
ed, great armies conquered,” and the very
course of nature countermanded, the sun ar-
rested, by the power of prayer. Moses's
hands only held up to heaven, routed the
Amalekites more than all the swords that
were drawn against them.
The goodness of God is expressed in his
promises; and these promises encourage pray-
er; and prayer is answered with performance;
and thanksgiving returns the performance in
praise to God. Psalm l. 15. So, all ends
where it began, in him who is the Alpha and
* In Aurelius’s time, the legion of the Christians
was called KepavyofféAos, the thundering legion.
the Omega, the Beginning and the End of all
things.
If you would be rich in all grace, be much
in prayer. Conversing with God assimilates
the soul to him, beautifies it with the beams
of his holiness, as Moses's face shined when
he returned from the mount. It is prayer,
that brings all our supplies from heaven; as
the virtuous woman is said, Prov. xxxi. 14, to
be like the merchant’s ships, she bringeth her
food from afar. Prayer draws more grace
out of God’s hand, and subdues sin and the
powers of darkness: it entertains and aug-
ments our friendship with God, raiseth the
soul from earth, and purifies it wonderfully.
Their experience, who have any of this kind,
teacheth them, that, as they abate in prayer,
all their graces do sensibly weaken. There-
fore, when the apostle hath suited a Christian
with his whole armor, he adds this to all,
Praying always with all prayer and supplica-
tion in the Spirit. Eph. vi. 18. For this arms
man and his armor both, with the strength
and protection of God: Armatura armatura,
oratio.
II. The form prescribed: After this man-
71.67°.
They who know anything of their own
wants and poverty, and of the bounty and ful-
ness of God, can not doubt of the continual
usefulness of prayer; and they who are sen-
sible of their own unskilfulness, will acknowl-
edge, that; as prayer is necessary, so there is
necessity of a direction how to perform it.
The disciples found this in themselves, when
they said, Lord, teach us to pray, as St. Luke
hath it, where he records this prayer. And
our Savior here marks the errors of hypocrisy
and babbling in prayer, which are so incident
to men, and teacheth his disciples, After this
manner, therefore, pray ye.
As for prescribing forms of prayer in gener-
al, to be bound to their continual use in pri-
vate or in public, is nowhere practised. Nor
is there, I conceive, on the other side, any-
thing in the word of God, or any solid reason
drawn from the word, to condemn their use.
There is, indeed, that inconvenience ob-
servable in their much use, and leaning on
them, that they easily turn to coldness and
formality; and yet, to speak the truth of this,
it is rather imputable to our dulness and want
of affection in spiritual things, than to the
forms of prayer that are used. For whereas
some may account it much spiritualness to
despise what they have heard before, and to
desire continual variety in prayer, it seems
rather to be want of spiritualness that makes
that needful, for that we find not our af-
fections lively in that holy exercise, unless
they be awaked and stirred by new expres-
sions; whereas, the soul that is earnest on
the thing itself for itself, panting after the
grace of God and the pardon of sin, regards
not in what terms it be uttered, whether new
or old ; yea, though it be in those words it
hath heard and uttered a hundred times, yet,
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD’S PRAYER.
597
still it is new to a spiritual mind. And surely
the desires that do move in that constant way,
have more evidence of sincerity and true vigor
in them, than those that depend upon new no-
tions and words to move them, and can not
stir without them. It may be, that it is no
other than a false flash of temporary devotion
that arises in a man's heart, which comes by
the power of some moving strain of prayer
that is new. But when confessions of sin, and
requests of pardon, though in never so low
and accustomed terms, carry his heart along
with them heavenward, it is then more sure
that the Spirit of God dwelling in him, and
the sense of the things themselves, the esteem
of the blood of Christ and the favor of God,
do move the heart, and there is no novelty of
words to help it. So, then, though the Lord
bestows rich gifts upon some of his servants,
for his own glory and the good of his church,
yet we should beware that in fancying contin-
ual variety in prayer, there be not more of
the flesh than of the spirit, and the head
working more than the heart. It is remark-
able, that, as they that search those things
observe, the words of this prayer are (divers
of them) such as come near the words of such
petitions as were usual among the Jews,
though He in whom was all fulness and wis-
dom, was not scarce of matter and words; so
little was novelty and variety considerable in
prayer, in his esteem. Mistake it not ; the
Spirit of prayer hath not his seat in the inven-
tion, but in the affection. In this many de-
ceive themselves, in that they think the work
of this Spirit of prayer to be mainly in fur-
nishing new supplies of thoughts and words:
no, it is mainly in exciting the heart anew at
times of prayer, to break forth itself in ardent
desires to God, whatsoever the words be,
whether new or old, yea, possibly without
words; and then most powerful when it words
it least, but vents in sighs and groans that can
not be expressed. Our Lord understands the
language of these perfectly, and likes it best:
he knows and approves the meaning of his
own Spirit, and looks not to the outward ap-
pearance, the shell of words, as men do. Rom.
viii. 26, 27.
But, to speak particularly of this form that
is above all exception, it is given us as the
pattern and model of all our prayers, and the
closer they keep to it, the nearer they resem-
ble it, they are the more approvable. It is
a wonder, then, how any can scruple the use
of this prayer itself. For, if other prayers are
to be squared by it, what forbids to use that
which is the square, and therefore perfectest ?
If they be good by conformity to it, itself
must be better. The mumbling of it over
without understanding and affection, is in-
deed no other than a gross abuse of it, and ta-
king of the name of God in vain, as all other
lifeless prayer is. And this is not only the
popish abuse of it, but too much our own ;
for when we do not both understand and at-
tentively mind what we say, it is all one to
us, though in our own tongue, as if, with
them, we said it in an unknown language. It
is a foolish, superstitious conceit, to imagine
that the rattling over these words is sufficient
for prayer; but it is, on the other side, a
weak, groundless scruple, to doubt that the
use of it, with spiritual affection, is both law-
ful and commendable.
Ośros.] It is a particle both for the matter
and the manner of prayer.
1. The matter. This may be our rule,
that whatsoever we can not reduce to some
part of this prayer, as contained under it,
should be no part of ours. If we take not
heed to this, we may abuse the throne of God
with undue and unworthy suits, and ask those
things that it were a punishment to give us.
Therefore, Plato chose well that word, Give
ws what is good for us, whether we ask it or
not ; and what is evil give us not, though we
should desire it. Not to speak now particu-
larly, we see in the matter of this prayer in
general, that spiritual things are to be the
main of all our prayers; and, in things tem-
poral, not to lodge Superfluous, inordinate de-
sires, but in a moderate use to seek things
necessary.
2. For the manner. Observe [1..] The or-
der of this prayer, that the soul put itself in
the sight of God, and him in its own sight,
beginning, as here, with due thoughts of the
majesty of God, to whom we pray. And this
is of very great consequence: but more of
this hereafter.
[2.] That the glory of God is wholly pre-
ferred to all our own contentment of what
kind soever: that is to be the first-born and
strength of all our desires; and all that we
seek for ourselves, must be in relation to that
his glory, directed to it as our highest scope.
And because we are naturally full of self-love,
and our hearts are carried by it toward our
own interest, and will be ready to start aside
like deceitful bows, and slip us in our aiming
at that mark; therefore, there be three sev-
eral petitions, all of that strain, to make
them steady and fixed toward it, to desire in
all things, and above all things, that our God
may be glorified.
[3.] Brevity; opposed to that babbling
which our Savior reproves and particularly
corrects by this form. The fault he lays on
the heathen, not upon the Jews, for they
blamed it too, and their doctors spake against
it, alleging that place that is very pertinent,
Eccl. v. 2, where he argues from our exceed-
ing distance and the greatness of God, be-
cause men use not to entertain great persons
with long, empty discourses. Know then,
before whom thou art in prayer, and have so
much respect to the majesty of God, as not
to multiply idle repetitions, such as wise men
can not well endure; how much léss the all-
wise God | BarroMoyia and toxvAoyia are here
put as one, because the one is the consequent
of the other: where there is much speaking,
there will be vain speaking and empty repe-
598
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD’S PRAYER.
titions." In multitude of words there want-
eth not sin, says Solomon, Prov. x. 19. And
We see it, that they who lay a necessity upon
themselves of a long continuance and many
words in prayer, as if it were otherwise no
prayer at all, they fall into this inconvenience
of idle repeating; and this is most unbeseem-
ing our access to the majesty of God, as if
there were some defect either in his knowl-
edge, or in his attention or affection to those
that seek him. Therefore, though this was
the common fault of the heathen, yet some
even of them had so much discerning as to
condemn this folly, and inveigh against it, ac-
knowledging both the wisdom of God and his
love to mankind, and that he understands far
better what is fit for us, than we ourselves,
and therefore was not to be dishonored with
idle tediousness in prayer.f
But is, then, all length and much continu-
ance in prayer, and all redoubling of the
same request, reprovable 2 Surely not. Were
there nothing else to persuade us of this, our
Savior's own practice were sufficient, who
prescribed this rule, and yet is found to have
spent Whole nights in prayer, and to have
iterated the same request ; and doubtless
{which can be said of no other), his example
is as perfect a rule as his doctrine.
This, then, briefly, is the fault here: when
the long continuance and much repetition in
prayer, is affected as a thing of itself availa-
ble; when heaping on words, and beating
often over the same words, though the heart
bear them not company, is judged to be
prayer; and generally, whensoever the tongue
9utruns the affection, then is prayer turned
into babbling. Yea, though a man use this
very short form here prescribed, yet he may
commit this very fault against which it was
provided, he may babble in saying it; and it
is to be feared, the greatest part do so. Men
judge, and that rightly, a speech to be long
or short, not so much by the quantity of
words, as by the sense ; so that a very short
speech that is empty of sense, may be called
long, and a long one that is full, and hath
nothing impertinent, is truly short.; Thus,
as men judge by the sense of speech, God
judgeth by the affection of prayer, which is
the true sense of it; so, the quality is the
rule of the quantity with him. There is no
prayer too long to him, provided it be all en-
livened with affection: no idle repetition,
where the heart says every word over again
as often, and more often than the tongue.
Therefore, those repetitions in the Psalms,
Lord, hear, Lord, incline thine ear, Lord, at-
tend, &c., were not idle on this account;
God's own Spirit did dictate them, there was
not one of them empty, but came from the
heart of the holy penmen, full fraught with
the vehemency of their affections. And it is
reported of St. Augustine, that he prayed over
for a whole night, Noverim te, Domine, no-
verim me: because his heart still followed
the suit, all of it was prayer. So that in truth,
where the matter is new, and the words still
diverse and very rich in sense, yet, with God,
it may be idle multiplying of words, because
the heart stays behind; and where the same
words are repeated, so that a man seems
poor and mean in the gift of prayer to others,
yet, if it be not defect of affection, but the
abundance of it, as it may be, that moves
often the same request, it is not empty, but
full of that sense that the Searcher of hearts
akone can read. I had rather share with that
publican in his own words, and say it often
over, as if I had nothing else to say, God be
be merciful to me a sinner, saying it with
such a heart, than the most excellent prayer
where the outside is the better half.
So, then, this is the mistake of men, to
think to make words pass for prayer with
God, and to make up what is wanting in-
wardly with multitude of words and long
continuance: a foolish compensation, that
will no way satisfy him who says, Above all,
my son, give me thy heart ; and no length
nor words can supply the want of that with
him. Yet, many do thus ; they give large
measure of that which is altogether worth
nothing. As the orator said of those that
make a poor speech pass for something, by
crying it out with a loud voice, that they were
like to those cripples who got a horseback to
hide their halting ; it is thus here. And the
church of Rome hath it for their common shift;
they have shut the heart out of this employ-
ment, where it hath most interest, by pray-
ing in an unknown tongue; and this defect
they make up with long continuance, and
repetition of paternosters, with a devotion as
cold and dead as the beads they drop. And
so they with their breviaries, notwithstand-
ing their name, fall directly into this foolish,
heathenish vanity of idle length and repeti-
tlOnS.
Thus do we too, though we speak our own
known language, when either in secret or in
public we suffer our hearts to rove in prayer,
and hear not ourselves what we are praying:
how then can we expect that God should
hear us?
If the affection can be brought to continue
in it, prayer in secret can not be too long. But
let us not think it virtue enough that it is long;
het it rather be brief with strong bent of mind,
than long without it;* as a small body strong
and full of spirits, is much better than the
greatest bulk that is dull and spiritless. And
when we pray in company, because men can
not know the temper of other men's hearts,
* Xopis rôr' #tirety rôAAa kai rā rapta.-SoPHoclEs.
# Paucis verbis rem divinam facitó.
f Absit ut multiloquium deputem, quando necessaria
dicuntur, quantálibet sermonum multitudine ac prolici-
tate dicantur. Brevitas est etiam in longissimá oratione,
Cui nihil inest alieni.
* Non est (ut quidam putant) orare in imultiloquio, si
diutius oretur, aliud est sermo multus aliud diuturmus
affectus. Absit multo loquutio, sed non desit multa pre-
catio.—AUGUSTINE. -
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD'S PRAYER.
599
usually a convenient medium between the
extremes of briefness and length, seems most
suitable.
But, alas ! how few be there who keep
constant watch over their affections in prayer,
and endeavor to keep the heart bent to it
throughout! Oh, how much sin is commit-
ted by us this way that we observe not :
..This is a great lesson, and requires still our
diligence, even all our lifetime, to learn it
better and better, how to pray.
We have here indeed a complete copy, but
We can not follow it. He who set it us, must
put his Spirit within us, to lead our hand and
heart that we may follow it, as he here
shows how we should pray. We are not
born with this heart fimus oratores. And I
may add other the word, true of us, in regard of
our vanity of mind, and the devices that arise
in it. nascimur poeta. Omnis fictio cordis,
Every fiction of the heart, &c., Gen. vi. 5.
We must have that Spirit of his, the Spirit
of prayer, to teach us effectually, and make
us learn this divine art of prayer, according
to his rules. Although we are thus externally
taught by our Savior's doctrines, yet unless
we be taught within by the Spirit, we are
never the nearer; we know neither what to
ask, nor how to ask. But that is a happy
supply, and they may rejoice in it who have
it, the Spirit of God helping their infirmities,
and making intercession for them. Rom. viii.
26. How should they but speed in their suits
with God, who have both his own Spirit in-
terceding, by framing and inditing their peti-
tions, and his own Son interceding at his
right hand by his merits!
He that follows me, says our Savior, shall
not walk in darkness. John viii. 12. It is
safest, in all our ways, to be led by him,
particularly in our access to the Father by
prayer. He leads us in by his intercession.
Through him we have [šigayoyiv) access, or
rather adduction. Eph. ii. 18. He takes us by
the hand to bring us to the throne of grace,
gives us his Spirit to frame our minds, and
teach us with what disposition to pray. Here
he leads us, by putting words in our mouths,
and furnishing us what to say. Consider,
I. The preface or compellation. II. The
petitions. III. The conclusion.
By the preface, we are in general taught
this, ere we consider particularly the words
of it: 1. To endeavor to have right thoughts
and apprehensions of God, on whom we call.
2. At our entry or beginning to pray, to set
ourselves before him, and him before our
own sight ; to have the eye of our mind set
on that Deity we worship. This would do
much to the curing of that common disease
of our prayers, the wandering and roving of
our minds: an evil that they can not but be
sensible of, and often bewail, who take .
notice of their own inward carriage wit
God, who trace their own hearts, and ask ac-
count of their behavior in prayer.* Oh,
* Nihil est in nobis corde fugacius. GREGoRY.
light, inconstant hearts! may they say: as
the Latin reads that, Psalm xl. 12, Cor meum
dereliquit me. How many regard them not
at all ! But they who do, find it their ordi-
nary trick to give them the slip. And this is
one great cause of our wanderings, that we
do not, at our entrance to prayer, compose
ourselves to due thoughts of God, and set
ourselves in his presence: this would domuch
to awe us, and ballast our minds, that they
tumble not to and fro, as is their custom.
There be not many that do, but it would
prove no doubt much help, would we task
ourselves to this, never to open our mouths to
God, till the eye of our soul were fixed upon
him, and taken up with the considering of
his presence. But of this more when we
come to those words, Who art in heaven.
Our Father which art in heaven.] Our
Father—the mercy of God is in this, to be-
get in us the confidence of faith ; in the oth-
er, Which art in heaven, the majesty of God
to work us to reverence: though there is
somewhat in the word Father, likewise, to
persuade reverence, and something in the
other that confirms faith (but more of this
hereafter); yet, if we take that which ap-
pears most, and is predominant, the former
mainly supports faith, and the latter begets
humility.
The frame of it is extensive; not My Fa-
ther, but our Father, and so throughout. Be-
sides that it was a pattern both for public
and private prayer, and so it was fittest to
run in the larger and public style, it doth, no
doubt, as all have taken it, teach the chari-
table extension of our prayers, where they
are most private, to take in with our own the
good of others, and when we are busiest and
most particularly dealing for ourselves, yet,
not to shut out our brethren. Let the place
and performance of secret prayer be as pri-
vate as may be, but the strain and supplica-
tions public, as well as personal. The most
private prayer of the godly is a public good,
and he loses nothing by that ; for, besides
that his particular interest is not hindered by
taking in others, he hath this gain, that by
the same reason he likewise hath a share in
all the prayers of others. And this (though
little considered by the most) is one point,
and not a small one, but a very profitable
and comfortable point of that article of our
faith. The communion of saints, that every
believer hath a share in all the prayers of all
the rest: he is partner in every ship of that
kind that sets to sea, and hath a portion of
all their gainful voyages.
But he that in prayer minds none but him-
self, doubtless he is not right in minding
himself. Howsoever, this he may be sure of,
that in keeping out others from his prayers,
he bars himself from the benefit of all others'
prayers likewise. Si pro te solo oras, prote
solus oras : If thou prayest for thyself alone,
thou alone prayest for thyself, says St. Am-
brose. So that self-love itself may here
600
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD’S PRAYER.
plead for love to our brethren. Forget not
the church of God, and to seek the good of
Zion, it is not only your duty, but your bene-
fit. Are you not all concerned in it, if in-
deed you be parts of that mystical body ?
And it hinders not at all, but rather advan-
ces your personal suits at God’s hands, when
he sees your love to your brethren, and de-
sires for the church’s good. Let not, there-
fore, any estate, no private perplexity or dis-
tress, nor very sorrow for sin, take you so up,
as to be all for yourselves: let others, but
especially the public condition of the church
of God, find room with you. We find it thus
with David; when he was lamenting his own
case, Psalm li. 18, and Psalm xxv. ult., and
elsewhere he forgets not the church : In thy
good pleasure do good to Zion, and build up
the walls of Jerusalem. So then, let this be
the constant tenor of your prayers, even in
secret. When thou prayest alone, shut thy
door, says our Savior here, shut out as much
as thou canst the sight and notice of others,
but shut not out the interest and good of
others; say, Our Father: as the heathen
call their God, Zej IIársp.
Father.] He is indeed our Father (Toi yap
rai yévés opew, Acts xvii. 28), as the author
of our being, beyond all the visible creatures.
He breathed upon man the breath of life.
But the privilege of this our natural relation,
the sin of our nature hath made fruitless and
comfortless to us, till we be restored by grace,
and made partakers of a new sonship: we
are indeed the workmanship of God, but, be-
ing defaced by sin, and considered in that es-
tate, our true name is, children of wrath.
But the sonship that emboldens us to draw
near unto God as our Father, is derived from
his only begotten Son. He became the son
of man, to make us anew the sons of God.
Being thus restored, we may indeed look
back upon our creation, and draw out of it,
to use in prayer with God, that we are his
creatures, the workmanship of his hands,
and he in that sense our Father. But, by
reason of our rebellion, this argument is not
strong enough alone, but must be supported
with this other, as the main ground of our
comfort, that wherein the strength of our
confidence lies, that he is our Father in his
Son Christ; that by faith we are invested into
a new sonship, and by virtue of that may call
him Father, and move him by that name to
help and answer us. John i. 12. To as many
as received him, he gave power to become the
sons of God. Our adoption holds in Jesus
Christ as the head of this fraternity; there-
fore he says, I go to my Father and your Fa-
ther, to my God and your God. John xx. 17.
He says not, To our Father and our God, but
severally, mine and yours ; teaching us the
order of the new covenant, that the sonship
of Jesus Christ is not only more eminent in
nature, but in order, is the spring and cause
of ours, as St. Cyril well observes. So then,
he that here puts this word in our mouths,
to call God Father, he it is by whom we
have this dignity and comfort that we call
him so.
But this adoption is accompanied (that we
think it not a naked, external name) with a
real change, and so great a change that it
bears the name of that which is the real
ground of Sonship ; it is called regeneration.
And these are inseparable. There be no sons
of God by adoption, but such as are withal
his sons by regeneration and new birth. There
is a new life breathed into them from God.
He is not only the Father of Spirits, by their
first infusion into the body, and enlivening it
by them, but by this new infusion of grace
into the souls of men (as it seems to signify
there, Heb. xii. 9, where he is speaking of
spiritual sons), and enlivening them by it,
which were dead without it, as the body is
without them. And the Spirit of God re-
newing them, is the Spirit of adoption, by
which they cry, Abba Father. Rom. viii. 15.
He gives them a supernatural life by this
Spirit sent into their hearts; and the Spirit,
by that regeneration which he works, ascer-
tains them of that adoption which is in
Christ Jesus; and in the persuasion of both,
they call upon God as their Father.
So then, you who would have this confi-
dence in approaching to God, to call him Fa-
ther, lay hold on Jesus Christ, as the fountain
of sonship. Offer not to come unto God but
through him, and rest not satisfied with your-
selves, nor your prayers, till you find some
evidence that you are in him. And know,
that there is no evidence of your portion in
the Son, but by the Spirit; therefore called
the Spirit of the Son, by which we call God
Father. Gal. iv. 6. See whether the Spirit
of God dwells and rules in your hearts. For
they that have not the Spirit of God, are none
of his, says the apostle ; but, in the same
chapter, he assures you, that As many as are
led by the Spirit of God they are undoubtedly
the sons of God, Rom. viii. 9, 14. If you then
call on the name of God, and particularly by
this name, Our Father, depart from iniquity.
Be ashamed to pretend to be his sons, and yet
be so unlike him, wallowing in sin: it can
not be, that the sons of so holy a God can be
altogether unholy, and delight to be so: no,
though they can not be perfectly free from
impurity, yet, they who are indeed his chil-
dren, do certainly hate impurity, because he
hates it.
Do you draw near unto God in his Son
Christ 2 Do you give yourselves up to be led
by his Spirit 2 Then you may account and
call him your Father. And if you may use
this word, there is abundance of sweetness
in it : it is a spring of comfort that can not
run dry. And it hath influence into all the
petitions; as likewise the other word, which
art in heaven ; Thou who art so great and so
good. Whose name and whose kingdom
should we desire to be advanced so much as
our own Father's, our heavenly Father ? And
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD'S PRAYER.
601
whose will to be obeyed on earth as it is in
heaven 2 Of whom should we seek our daily
bread, but of our Father ? And especially,
so rich a Father, possessor of heaven and
earth ! And forgiveness we may ask of Our
gracious Father, and conduct, and protection.
In the hardest condition that can befall you,
ye may come to your Father: all the world
can not bar your access. And there is no
child may go to his father with any suit, with
more confidence than you may to your Fa-
ther; and if there be mercy and power enough
in God, thou canst not miss of help. He hath
the bowels of a Father. Psalm ciii. 13. Yea,
says our Savior, Can you that are evil give
your children good things & How much more
will your heavenly Father give good things to
them who ask him 1 Matt. vii. 11. The love
of parents to their children, they have from
him: He hath given it to nature, so, it is but
a drop to the ocean of fatherly love that is in
himself. Ante petitionem magnum accepimus,
ut possimus decere, pater : quid enim jam non
det filiis petentibus pater, qui jam hoc upsum
dedit ut essent filii. 3 ...] Let not,
then, unworthiness scare his children. Pa-
rents love their children, and do them good,
not because they see they are more worthy
than others, for it may be far otherwise, but
because they are their own.
Yea, though we have run astray from him,
and forgotten very far the duty of children,
yet he can not forget the love of a Father;
and our best is, to return to him. It can not
be well with us, so long as we go any whither
else. The prodigal found it so, and therefore,
though he was convinced of that, that he was
unworthy to be called his son, yet he resolves
to return, I will go to my father. Yea, though
to thy sense he should seem to reject thee,
yet, let not go this hold. If thou hast but a
desire to believe in him and love him, though
thou canst find no more, and even while thou
doubtest whether he is thy Father or no, yet,
press him with the name, call him Father,
speak to him as thy Father; Jesus, his Son,
in whom he is well pleased, doth warrant
thee. Though he slay me, yet will I trust an
him, says Job: so resolve thou, though thou
sawest his hand, as it were, ready to throw
thee into hell, yet, cry to him still, and use this
very name, Father, reject me not. Never any
perished with such a purpose.
Who art in heaven.]
Serve the Lord with fear and rejoice with
trembling, Psalm ii., 11. This compellation
taken together, and rightly understood, works
that due temper of prayer, the mixture of
these two, joy, and fear, confidence and rever-
ence. There was some such thing spoken of
Augustus, but it is most true of the Divine
Majesty, that they who dare speak rashly
to him, know not his greatness, and they
who dare not speak to him, provided it be
with due reverence and respect, know not his
goodness.
That we all invoke one Father, teaches
that new law of love to one another, which
Our Savior, the author of this prayer, so often
recommends, and makes the very badge of
his disciples. It serves to comfort the mean-
est, and to abate the loftiness of the greatest
who pray thus, as St. Augustine well observes,
that they all meet and agree in this: the
greatest kings, and their meanest subjects,
all must speak to God as their Father, not
only all alike having their being from him as
the Father of the spirits of all flesh, but the
same adoption belonging unto all, high and
low, that are believers. All the pomp and
command and pleasures of princes can not
make them happy without this grace of adop-
tion; and no outward baseness prejudges any,
but they may be happy by partaking of it.
In this, likewise, is very clear our lesson of
love to God, because our Father. For though
(as they say) love doth descend much more
than it ascends, and it is here most of all
verified, yet it doth ascend from the children
to their parents by way of reflection, especial-
ly from the sons of God to him as a Father,
who is love itself. And as this name draws
the soul to the throne of grace with assured
expectation of mercy, so it commands withal
(as we said), honor and reverence ; especially,
being accompanied with this other word
that mainly enforces that [6 £v roſs otpavots,J
In the heavens ; answering the Hebrew word,
which is plural, and signifying that the glori-
ous God is above all the visible heavens.
And thus the profane authors speak of God
likewise, ºriprara 66 para vaiov.
We know, although we are guilty of much
forgetting it, that the Lord is everywhere
present, neither excluded nor included any-
where ; that he fills all places, not as con-
tained in them, but as containing them, and
upholding them, and all things in them. But
he is in heaven after a special manner, in the
brightest manifestion of himself, and as the
purest service is performed to him there.
They can not contain him, as Solomon ex-
presses it, 1 Kings viii. 27; yet, his throne is
there, there he dwells, as in his principal
palace, in greatest majesty, as David teacheth
us, Psalm xi. 4, and often elsewhere. But that
he is not shut up there, and regardless of things
below, we learn in that same place; for he
adds, His eyes behold, and his eyelids try the
children of men.
This is added first, for distinction. As the
apostle differencing him, from the fathers of
our flesh, Heb. xii. 9, calls him, The Father
of Spirits, so here to distinguish him from
earthly fathers, he is styled, Our heavenly
Father.
Observe. We can not here know God ac-
cording to what he is in himself, and there-
fore he is described to our capacity, and to
our profit, so as we are able, and as it most
concerns us to know him here; by his graci-
ous relation to us as our Father, and by the
excellency of his dwelling, as a sign of his
greatness, that he is in heaven ; both which
76
602
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD'S PRAYER.
are extrinsical to his essence. But thus we
may learn thus much, to worship and love
him, as the best and the greatest, infinitely
exceeding all that we can conceive of him.
As it is for distinction, so, it is such a word
of difference as is of excellent use.
1. To make the soul humble and reverend
in approaching to God in prayer. If we con-
sider it, shall we not be wary how we behave
ourselves in the presence of so great a king 3
It is very strange, that our souls should not be
possessed with the deepest lowliness and self-
abasement in the sight of God ; worms in the
dust before the majesty that dwells in heaven.
This Solomon expresses: He is in heaven, and
thou on earth, therefore let thy words be few.
What is this we find in ourselves, that makes
us so drunk with self-conceit, not only in con-
verse one with another, but with God? Sure-
ly, we know him not ; at least, we consider
not who he is, and where he dwells, and who
we are, and where we dwell. Surely, it
would lay us low, if when we come before
God, we would consider him as the most
glorious king, sitting on his throne, and com-
passed with glorious spirits, who offer him
spotless praises, and we ourselves coming
before him, as base frogs creeping out of our
pond, where we dwell amidst the mire of sin-
ful pollutions.
Thus, indeed, his highness should humble
us in coming, but it should not affright us
from coming before him ; for though he is in
heaven and we on earth, yet, he is our Fa-
ther. Thus ought we to join these two, and
to behold them jointly, that we may have
that right posture of mind by them which
suits with prayer—humble boldness.
There may be undue distrust, but there can
not be too much humility of spirit, in prayer.
The more humble, the fitter to come to God;
and he the more willing to come into the soul,
and dwell in it. For that is the other house
that he hauh chosen. They seem very ill suit-
ed together: if the highest heavens be the
Lord's own dwelling, it would seem fit that
the other should be the richest palaces on
earth, or stately-built temples. No, the other
is such a one as we most despise, but God
prefers before all other, even the most sump-
tuous building. Isa. lvii. 15. Thus saith the
high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity,
whose name is holy; I dwell in the high and
holy place ; with him also (a strange also 1)
that is of a broken and humble spirit. The
highest heavens are the habitation of his glory,
and the humble heart hath the next honor, to
be the habitation of his grace.
2. As the word humbles the soul in God’s
sight, so it elevates it to heaven where God
dwells, and fixes it there in prayer. And this
elevation is not contrary to humility: the soul
that is laid lowest in itself, is most sublime
in converse with God, Sublimiter humilis et
humiliter sublimis. [CYPRIAN.] And thus
ought our hearts to ascend in prayer, which,
alas, we usually suffer to lag and draw the
wing heavily on the earth. Unto thee, Q
Lord, says the psalmist, do I lift up my soul.
Psalm xxv. 1. That is the right and natural
motion of prayer. But there is another lifting
up that our souls are better acquainted with,
which is spoken of in the psalm immediately
foregoing, the lifting up of the soul unto vani-
ty; and the more so lift up, the farther off
from God. O the Vainness of our hearts 2
And how hard is it to establish them on him
who dwells on high . Even while we are
speaking to him, we suffer them to break
loose and rove, and to entertain foolish
thoughts. We would not use a king or great
person so, nor any man whom we respect,
when we are speaking to him seriously, to
intermix impertinences, and forget what we
are a saying. But we dare offer gross non-
sense to the all-wise God : though the words
go on in good sense, yet the prayer is so to
him, when the heart intermixes vain thoughts
—Polum terra miscet, confuses and spoils all.
And this is the great task as we have said, to
bring the heart before God, to set it on his
holy mountain in heaven, while we pray (it
should be so certainly), and leave servile,
earthly thoughts at the foot of the mount.
3. It gives confidence. [1..] Of the power
of God, his rich ability to grant all our re-
quests. He, that Lord of all, and as greatest
possessor, hath his throne in the highest
heavens, and doth what pleaseth him in
heaven and in earth ; this, with the other
completes our comfort: good-will and power
—our Father in heaven. And this we may
apply to all our wants, for assurance of sup-
ply, and to all our enemies, and the church's
enemies, that our prayer shall be heard for
their foil and disappointment. He sits in
heaven and laughs. Psalm ii. 4. They rage,
and tumult, and consult ; a great bustle and
noise they keep ; and he sits and laughs at
them. He scorns all their proud attempts,
for that with ease he can Scatter them in a
moment: one word of his mouth overturns
them and all their contrivances.
[2.] It is a confirmation of our portion in
heaven. If he who is in heaven be our Fa-
ther, then, our inheritance lies there, in that
land of peace where it can not be lost or im-
paired, and he will bring his children to the
possession of it. To be the sons of God, is not
a style without an estate, an empty title. No,
he who makes us sons, makes us heirs like-
wise: sons, we are, in Christ, and co-heirs
with Christ. Rom. viii. 17. He came down to
earth for this purpose, to make a new purchase
of heaven for us; and he is returned thither
to prepare it for us. I go to prepare a place
for you, that where I am, ye may be also.
John xiv. 2. -
Hallowed be thy name.], . The sense of
many wants and necessities, drives a Christian
daily to God in prayer; yet, certainly, that
which draws him most strongly to it, is of a
higher nature, the sense of his duty to God,
and the delight he hath to do that homage
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD’S PRAYER.
603
and honor to him. And therefore, in prayer,
the main current of his heart runs that Way,
and so agrees with this pattern given us by
our Savior; wherein we see clearly, that our
prime desires are to be bestowed on the glory
of God. And that is placed first, not only as
it is to be preferred before all other suits, but
as it is to be regarded still in all the rest,
and they all referred to it. And to make the
impression of this desire the deeper on our
hearts, and to give the fuller vent of it in ex-
pression to them who have it, there are, you
see, three of these six petitions spent on it.
This is the first of them, Hallowed be thy
name. This suits well with the style here
given to God Our Father. If I be a Father,
where is my honor 2 says the Lord by his
prophet, Mal i. 6. And here, his children
are taught to join these two together : Thou
art our Father, and so glorious a Father,
dwelling in heaven ; therefore our desire is
that thou mayest have honor, that thy name
may be hallowed, and Thy kingdom come.
We will inquire,
1. What is meant by his name. 2. What
is the hallowing or sanctifying of it. 3. What
the petition itself is.
1. Briefly his name is, Himself, as he is
made known to us, and conceivable by us,
and differenced from all other beings, as men
are by their names one from another. For
to this purpose are all these several names
and attributes given him, which we find in
scripture, that we may so conceive of him-
self as here we are capable.
2. To sanctify his name, we know, can not
be to infuse holiness into it, or effectually to
make it holy ; for neither can we so make
anything holy, nor can the name of God be
so made holy, for it is most holy of itself, yea,
he is holiness itself, and the fountain of all
holiness. But according to the double sense
of the word blessing as mutual between God
and man, so is this of sanctifying, Blessed,
says the apostle, be the God and Father of
our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us
with all spiritual blessings. Eph. i. 3. His
benedicere, is benefacere. He blesseth us
really, as the giver of all blessings and of
blessedness itself; and our blessing him is no
other than the acknowledging of this, that it
is he who blesseth us, and praising him for it.
Thus he sanctifies us, makes us holy, purifies
us by his Spirit from our matural unholiness
and filthiness according to his promise (Ezek.
xxxvi. 25), and according to our Savior's
prayer (John xvii. 17); and we sanctify the
Lord and his name (as here, and Isaiah viii.
13), when we know and acknowledge that
he is holy, and use his name holily. ...And
thus, they only sanctify, who affectionately
pray thus, that his name may be sanctified,
whose hearts he hath first sanctified and
made them holy.
..More particularly and distinctly, the sanc-
tifying of God’s name hath in it these things.
[1..] To have right thoughts of the holiness
and majesty of God. . [2.] That, upon so con-
ceiving of him, our hearts be reverently af-
fected toward him. . [3.] Not only to have
that due apprehension and reverence of his
holiness in the habit, and so let it lie dead
within us, but often to stir up ourselves to the
remembrance and consideration of it, to call
in our thoughts to act about it: So, this will
increase our knowledge and reverence (as all
habits grow by acting), and will excite the
soul to praise him, as the psalmist speaks,
Give thanks at the remembrance of his holi-
ness. [4.] The declaring and extolling of his
holiness, speaking upon all seasonable occa-
sions, honorably of his name. [5] The humble
sense and acknowledgment of our own unho-
liness in his presence: and therefore, all those
lowly confessions of sins and of their own un-
worthiness, that we find in the prayers of the
prophets, are so many hallowings of the
name of God, giving the glory of holiness to
him alone, and taking the shame of their
own pollutions. Thus, Dan. ix., Isa. lxiv., &c.
As some of the Americans have a custom,
when they appear before their king, to put
on their worst apparel, that all the magnifi-
cence may rest on him alone, and appear the
better ; thus, though the majesty of God, in
itself being infinite, needs nothing else to
commend it, yet, to our apprehension of it, it
may be thus, and the saints in desire of his
glory may intend this, to set off the lustre of
his purity and excellency in the humble con-
fessions of their own vileness: To thee, O
Lord, belongeth righteousness, but to us con-
fusion of face. Dan. ix. 7. [6.] The hallow-
ing of God's name, is an earnest endeavor of
conformity with him in holiness; first, in
heart, that must be the principal seat of it,
and then, holiness in all our words and ac-
tions, and the whole course of our lives.
This is that which the Lord continually pres-
ses upon his people, Be ye holy, for I am holy.
Lev. xix. 2, xx. 7, xxi. 8, &c. And this is
the most effectual sanctifying of his name by
way of declaring it holy, when his people
walk in holiness. Though you tell the
world that he is holy, they know him not :
they can neither see him nor his holiness;
but when they see that there are men, taken
out of the same lump of polluted nature with
themselves, and yet so renewed and changed,
that they hate the defilements of the world,
and do indeed live holily in the midst of a
perverse generation; this may convince them
that there is a brighter spring of holiness,
where it is in fulness, whence these drops
are, that they perceive in men; for seeing it
is not in nature, there must be another prin-
ciple of it, and that can be no other than this
holy God. Thus is his name hallowed, and
he known to be holy, by the holiness of his
people.
So then, the petition takes in all, and in it
we desire the sanctifying and magnifying of
God’s name in every possible way. 1st, by
ourselves, that we may mind his glory, and
604
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD’S PRAYER.
by his grace sanctify his name. 2dly, By
others, that our Lord may be more known
and honored in the world. They would glad-
ly have many hearts and many tongues
brought in to confess the Lord, and his holi-
ness and greatness. Thus the psalmist stirs
up the angels to bless the Lord, Psalm ciii.
20; not that they need exciting, but to show
his own affection to God’s praises. 3dly, And
because there is still some alloy and mixture
of unholiness in all the hallowing of his name
here below, all our services being stained,
therefore, as the godly do, in this request,
wish all the exalting and sanctifying of God's
name among men that is attainable here, so,
I conceive, they do, as it were applaud those
purer services and praises that are given him
above ; and sensible how far they fall short
themselves, they are glad to think that there
be such multitudes of angels and glorified
spirits hallowing and praising his name better
and more constantly, not ceasing day nor night
to cry Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty.
And here they follow as they can, and give
their acclamation, though in a lower key, yet
as loud as they are able, Even so, Lord, hal-
towed be thy name. Now, the cause and
source of their great desire of exalting and
hallowing the name of God, is their love to
him, which the sight that he hath given
them of his excellency, hath kindled in their
hearts. *
After that, their chief delight is to think of
him, and speak of his name. Gladly would
they have him highly esteemed by all; and
this is their grief, that they can find so few
to bear them company and help them in this,
in hallowing and extolling his name, which
is so deeply engraven on their hearts. See
how pathetically the psalmist repeats that
again and again, Psalm cvii: O that men
would praise the Lord for his goodness, and
his wonderful works to the children of
men 1 And when they hear or see anything
tending to the dishonor of his name, this
wounds them, and pierces them through as a
sword, as the psalmist speaks, Psalm xlii. 10.
They are far from envy, or an evil eye: yea,
they rejoice in the gifts and graces which
God bestows upon others, although it be be-
yond what they have themselves; for still it
serves their desires, and answers what they
are most earnest in: it tends to the hallowing
and glorifying of the name of God. And
what they have themselves, they are not in
danger to grow vain upon it: rather, they
wonder at the free grace of God, and extol
that, and think with themselves, What am I,
that he should have had compassion on me,
and plucked me out of the crowd of the lost
world, and given me any desire to hallow
his name, while others are blaspheming it,
and delighting to dishonor it ! But ever the
more they receive from God, they are the
more humble, the more desirous of his praise,
and regardless of their own. ... Any holiness
that is in them, they know well, is from him,
and therefore, all the glory of holiness must
return thither, whence holiness originally
comes; and the very end for which they
desire increase of holiness in themselves, is
to the end that they may the more hallow his
name from whom they have it, and that, by
the increase of their stock, there may be an
increase of the tribute of praise to God.
But alas ! how far are we from this mind
What hypocrisy is it, for the same mouth to
utter this request, that dares profane the
name of God by vain swearing ! That which
is holy, as the Hebrew word imports, is sepa-
rated from common use (although it was not
holy before), and ought not to be profaned ;
least of all, this name, which is not made
holy by such a separation, but is primitively
holy in itself; and they who use it rashly
and unholily, are deeply guilty of despising
the majesty of God. It is not possible that
any one who is truly sensible of his greatness
and holiness, can customarily abuse his name,
that blessed name which he hopes to bless
for ever. You say, It is your custom. It is
a wonder to hear men speak thus as an ex-
cuse ; it is the deepest accusation. Are not
men known by their customs? Do not these
discover what they are ? It is your custom
—what gain you by that ? You must confess
that it is such a one as is the custom of the
children of Satan, the professed enemy of
God’s name; as the delight and custom of
hallowing his name, is the badge of his chil-
dren. It is your custom Then know, it is
his custom not to acquit them, but to make
them feel the weight of his punishing hand,
who dare make it a custom to dishonor his
Il 3.IIl 62.
Again, they who profane his holy day,
they who sanctify not his name by call-
ing on it daily in private, and generally, all
who by an unsanctified life do blot the profes-
sion of Christians, what do they mean to lie
so grossly, not unto men, but unto God, to his
face, in praying thus, as if they desired the
hallowing of his name by all, and yet, do
nothing but unhallow it themselves 2 Think
it not sufficient to the hallowing of his name,
that his house and worship is purged of abuses:
though they be holy, yet, unless we ourselves
be holy too, we pollute all in our use of them :
the worships, and sabbaths, and the name of
God, our filthy hands defile all. Let us not
thus provoke God, lest, in just wrath and
punishment, he sanctify his own name upon
us, which we profane, as he threatens against
the Jews by his prophets. Ezek. xxxvi. 23.
First, then, be not satisfied to think slight-
ly and superficially of God. , Take time to
consider him, and know who he is ; and then
you will reverence him in your thoughts. It
deserves and requires all the whole heart to
keep up with it; and alas! what is a heart,
a narrow thing, though the largest of hearts,
as Solomon's, as large as the sand of the sea,
to an infinite God . We can find time for our
earthly thoughts, and for vain foolish thoughts,
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD’S PRAYER.
605
which are good for nothing; and shall we
shut out God, or think any sudden passing
look enough for him
Secondly, Behave yourselves with regard
of him in his worship: āyaāyios, let holy
things be done holily.
Thirdly, Honor it in your lives: especially,
such as do know his name, grow daily more
respective and tender of it, and be more cir-
cumspect in your actions, and, as He who
hath called you is holy, so be ye holy in all
manner of conversation. 1 Pet. i. 15.
Thy kingdom come.] He who is the be-
ginning of all things, must likewise of neces-
sity be the end of them all; and then are our
intentions rightest and purest, when we are
most possessed with the desire of that high-
est end, the glory of God, and look straight-
est unto it. And if this purpose ought to dif-
fuse itself through all our actions, certainly,
in prayer, it should be most lively and active,
because prayer is so direct and express a turn-
ing of the face of the soul unto God, and set-
ting of its eye upon him. Therefore, this pe-
tition follows forth the same desire with the
former, wishing honor to God. He is a most
holy God, and the former request was for his
glory in that, in the sanctifying of his name.
He is a king, a great king, the greatest of all,
and this wishes his glory in that sense, that
his kingdom may be advanced: Thy kingdom
come. 1. We shall inquire what his king.
dom is. 2. What is the coming of it.
3. Shall speak of the petition itself.
1. This kingdom is not his universal supre-
macy over all the world and all the creatures
in it, as being their Maker and their Pre-
server, and so having the highest and justest
title, and the most absolute kind of dominion
over all things; but his peculiar royalty over
his church. By the former, he is called King
of nations, Jer. X. 7; and by the latter, his
style is King of saints, Rev. xv. 3. Of the
former the psalmist speaks, Psalm xxiv. 1, but
that which he adds, ver, 3, concerns the latter,
and so on, in the Psalm, and ver. 7: Lift up
your heads, O ye gates, that the King of glory
may come ºn.
This kingdom is gathered and selected out
of the other, and though the less in quantity,
yet, in God’s account, far more precious than
all the rest. The church is the jewel in the
ring of the world : in it he hath his peculiar
residence and chief delight ; as kings choose
one of their palaces, and, if they have more,
one of their kingdoms, to dwell in more than
another. Those things that are hidden from
the rest of the world concerning this King,
are made known to his subjects of this his
select kingdom; and it is in it that he opens
up, displays after a special manner more than
in all the world beside, both the glory of his
majesty, and the riches of his bounty, here,
in part, and fully hereafter. And according
to that difference, it is distinguished into the
kingdom of grace, and that of glory.
The kingdom of grace is to be considered,
And,
first, in the external means and administra-
tion of it ; secondly, in its inward being and
power. In the former sense, it is of a larger
extent; but in the latter, of a more uniform
nature in itself, and more conformed to its
Head. The former, the kingdom of grace in
its outward administration, is plainly the
whole visible church ; but the inward power
of the kingdom of grace is only in the hearts
of those who are truly sanctified, and mem-
bers of the invisible church.
Jesus Christ is ordained and anointed the
king and head of both, political ; but of the
one, natural, and therefore altogether indisso-
luble, not only in regard of the whole, but of
each part and member of it.
The visible church is but a little parcel, a
kingdom chosen out of the world; but the
truly godly, who are alone the subjects of the
inward kingdom of grace, are but a small
part of that part, a choice part of the visible
church, as it is a choice part of the visible
world. g
Now these three, the kingdom of glory, and
those two kinds of the kingdom of grace,
stand in this subordination: the inward king-
dom of grace is the way and preparation for
that of glory, and the outward kingdom of
grace in the visible church, is the means and
way of introducing, and establishing, and in-
creasing the inward: so that both of them
look forward to the kingdom of glory, as their
utmost end, and shall terminate and end in it.
The first of these, the external or political
kingdom of Christ in the visible church, con-
sists in his absolute and supreme authority to
appoint the laws of his church, and rulers by
these laws. And the use of the word, and sac-
raments, and discipline, according to his own
appointment, is the acknowledgment of him
as King of his church.
The other, the inward kingdom of grace, is
then received into the heart, when the Spirit
of God moves it to a willing subjection to Je-
sus Christ, and the whole soul submits itself
to be governed by him. He enters indeed by
conquest, and yet is most gladly received. It
is both a lawful and a favorable conquest, be-
cause he frees the soul, which is his by so
many rights, from the tyranny of a most cruel
usurper, the prince of darkness, and brings in
a kingdom full of sweetness and happiness:
there is no worse in it than these, righteous-
ness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.
Rom. xiv. 17.
This is the folly of an unbelieving mind,
that it entertains most false prejudices against
the kingdom of Christ; thinks that, if it let
him in, it shall be controlled and curbed, and
therefore resolves against it, and studies how
to hold him out; consults (as it is in the sec-
ond Psalm) against the Lord and his anointed.
But this is a lamentable madness, to dream
of liberty in the midst of chains, and to be
afraid of a deliverer. There is no soul that
opens to this King of glory, but can testify
that it never knew what true liberty was, till
606
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD'S PRAYER.
it admitted this kingdom of God, till there
was a throne for Christ erected within it.
The third, the kingdom of glory—would
you hear wherein that consists? It is such
as we can not hear nor speak of as it is. And
this indeed says more of it than all we can
say, that the excellency of it is unspeakable,
yea, unconceivable. This we are sure of, to
speak comparatively of it (which is our help in
things we understand not in themselves), that
all the kingdoms of the world, unite all their
glory together, are base and poor in respect
of it, but splendida in serico ; and that all the
delights we have here, not only of nature, but
even of grace, are less to it than the smallest
sparkle is to the sun in its brightness. All
that is done here by our king, Christ, in the
ruling of his church, and the power of his or-
dinances, and the bestowing of graces on his
own, are but preludes and preparations for
that ; and when that cometh, this way of ru-
ling his church and people shall cease, as
having attained its end. Christ shall deliver
up the kingdom to the Father ; word and sac-
raments, and discipline, shall be at an end ; and
then God shall be all in all. 1 Corinthians
xv. 24–28.
2. The coming of the kingdom of God, in
the former two, is, the extending and spread-
ing of them to those places and persons that
have not yet received them, and the increase
of their power where they are entertained ;
for they come gradually. And that kingdom
of glory, as it is concerned in the other, comes
forward in them so far, and hastens toward
its perfection ; but in itself, as their consum-
mation, it shall come at once altogether in the
end of time.
3. So, then, in the petition, all these are in-
cluded, and in their largest extent ; for it is
to take it too narrow and too low, to restrain
it only to our own interest in this kingdom,
either of grace or glory, or both. Thus David,
Psalm ciii., excites all to praise the Lord, but
most his own soul; begins with that, and ends
with it. Although they who desire it aright,
do desire that they may partake of it (for, if
they desire that God may be glorified, they
can not but, even out of love to that glory,
beside their own happiness, desire that they
themselves may be among those who may
honor God as the subjects of his kingdom),
yet they stay not there, but dilate their hearts
to wish the advancement and accomplishment
of his kingdom in all the elect, and in all
those ways that tend to it; and their love
may rise to that high strain, as without con-
sidering their own interest at all; yea, sup-
posing that they were to be shut out of his
kingdom themselves, yet still to wish, Thy
Kingdom come : let others enjoy and bless
thee, Lord, for ever, even though I should be
excluded: let thine elect be gathered, though
I were none of them. Be thou great, O Lord,
whatsoever become of me.
[1..] Considering what a height of glory
will arise to God out of the final subduing of
his enemies, and the full deliverance of his
church, and the bringing home of all his chil-
dren after all their sufferings and sorrows, to
sit down together to that great marriage-sup-
per of the Lamb ; they can not but thus
breathe forth their longings and wishes, that
that time may be hastened, and the fulness of
their Lord's kingdom accomplished, where it
shall abide for all eternity.
[2.] Both in relation to that end, and like-
wise in respect of the present glory that re-
dounds to God in it, they earnestly desire the
advancement and enlargement of Christ's
kingdom here on earth. For, beside that
thus it is rising to its perfection, it is no small
present glory to our king, Christ, as a testi-
mony of his invincible power, that he rules
in the very midst of his enemies, and in de-
spite of them all, Psalm cz. 2; not only sits
sure and keeps his own, thrust at him who
will, but, when he pleases, gains upon them,
and enlarges his territories, and grows great-
er by their resistances and oppositions. He
is here, as David was, often assaulted, and put
to defend his kingdom often in war, but al-
ways a conqueror; but after this militant
kingdom, he shall be as Solomon, who like-
wise typified him, reigning in perfect peace.
Now, because the enemies of his kingdom
are not yet, as they shall be, all under his
feet, but round about him, and incessantly
plotting and working against him, and Satan
hath his kingdom and his throne in the
world opposite to Christ, therefore this is one
chief point of this request: that all adverse
power may be brought low, that all his ene-
mies may lick the dust, and melt before him
as wax before the fire. And for us, especially
in these times, that the kingdom of Antichrist,
the son of perdition, may, answerably to that
his name, be brought to perdition; that God
would remember his promise (for the faithful
are called his remembrancers; though he for-
gets not, and hath his set time for judgment,
yet he loves to be stirred up by the cries of
his children); that he would make good at
length those words he hath spoken of Babel's
ruin and the flourishing estate of his church
in these latter times: that the power of the
word, and purity of religion, maugre all the
policy and power of men opposing it, may
spread and extend itself, and make irresistible
progress, as the sun in his course; that Jesus
Christ may be daily taking further possession
of the nations, even to the ends of the earth,
according to the patent of his Father's dona-
tion. And the certainty of its endurance and
growth till it be complete, should not abate,
but increase the vigor of our prayers for it.
And the nearer things are to their accom-
plishment, the more, usually, the Lord ex-
cites the hopes and prayers of his people
about them, and they pray the more earnest-
ly (see Dan. ix), moving naturally in it, and
therefore, fastest when nearest their place.
Again, we pray in this, that where Christ
doth reign in his outward ordinances, there
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD’S PRAYER.
607
he would bring in his spiritual kingdom into
the souls of men, that sinners may be convert-
ed unto him. The love of the glory of Jesus
Christ will desire this earnestly, that many
hearts may be brought in to submit to him,
for the glory of a king is in the multitude of
his subjects. Further, that they who are his
people, may grow more conformable to his
laws; that his dominion may be more pow-
erful in their hearts and lives, and particular-
ly that we ourselves may find it so.
You who will not receive the kingdom of
God within yourselves, to what purpose do
ou speak this, as if you desired it to be en-
arged and flourish abroad 2 1. You can have
no comfort in it, remaining slaves to sin, and
so enemies indeed to it. Neither the king-
dom of Christ in the government of the church
On the one side, nor, on the other, the coming
of his kingdom of glory, can do you any ben-
efit, while the third is wanting, the inward
kingdom of his grace, which is the true end
of the former, and the means to partake of
the happiness of the latter. Why wish you
the day of the Lord 2 Amos v. 18. As the
prophet says of that day he theré speaks of,
mistake it not: though that day of his king-
dom shall be all glory in itself, it shall be to
you, remaining still impenitent, darkness and
not light, full of horror and amazement. 2.
As you can have no comfort in his kingdom,
so you can not really wish its advancement.
You wish it well elsewhere, as if you were
content it should be anywhere, rather than
within yourselves. But would you indeed
have his kingdom to be embraced and ad-
Vanced, then do, for one, let him be thy king:
first, give him thine own heart, and then wish
him many more ; for then thou wilt wish it
heartily and truly.
You who have received this kingdom, yet
have need still, even in that sense, to wish
the coming of it in further degrees, and fuller
efficacy. Find you not many rebels yet un-
subdued ? No doubt, they who search and
know their own hearts, will, and often do,
complain of them to their king: oh, such
swarms of lusts, and unruly, irregular de-
sires When shall they all be brought into
subjection ? And so they lift up their wish,
from this to the other, the full and glorious
kingdom, and say again and again, Thy king-
dom come. This is the noble desire that
takes up the hearts of the godly. While
others are desiring and pursuing low, base
things, their minds, and their endeavor, to
their power, are chiefly set upon this, the ad-
vancement of the kingdom of God. They
seek not themselves and their own things,
with the world, to the prejudice of this king-
dom; no, they desire to lose anything, to suf-
fer contempts and abasements themselves, so
that this kingdom may flourish. St. Paul
cares not what he be accounted, modo mag-
nificetur Christus, so that now also Christ may
be magnified, Phil. i. 20. As faithful minis-
ters of state (and wise princes choose such),
who are not making up themselves to their
master's disadvantage, but always preferring
his honor to their private benefit, feeling his
losses and gains more than their own (as was
said of St. Augustine, Dominicis semper lucris
gaudens, et damnis moºrens); this is the right
temper of the servants and ministers of Jesus
Christ, to be all for their Master, willing that
their name, and estates, and lives, and all,
may make a part of his footstool to step up
to his throne; not forced as his enemies to be
so, but willingly laying themselves low for
his glory. And this comfort they have, that
when his kingdom shall come in its fulness,
and all his enemies shall be trodden down for
ever, then they shall be glorified with him,
and shall see his glory with exceeding joy.
Therefore do they so often desire his coming,
and are so weary of all they see here ; and
when he says himself, for their assurance and
comfort, Surely, I come quickly, their earnest
desire makes them echo, Even so come, Lord
Jesus, Rev. xxii. 20. -
There is some loss to the flesh, if we will
hear it, in this desire, in each kind. The
erecting of Christ's kingdom in purity in his
church, thrusts out the outward pomp and
magnificence that naturally we like so well.
His kingdom of grace can not be in the soul,
without the forsaking of all our accustomed
and pleasing ways of sin. But they who
know the excellency of his kingdom, are
well content to forego all that suits not with
it. Thus, that his kingdom of glory may
come, the world must be burnt up ; and, that
we may particularly come to it, we must
pass through death. But it is worth all.
Thy will be done on earth, as it is in
heaven.]
I will direct my prayer to thee, says Da-
vid, Psalm v. 3. The word is, I will set in
order, or orderly address it. . Which implies
not the curious contriving either of the words
or method (for there may be most of that,
where there is least of this right directing it
to God), but the due ordering of the frame
and desires of the heart. And certainly, one
main point of that is taught us, as we have
said, in the order of this prayer, in this par-
ticular; that it not only prefers the honor of
God to all our own interest, setting the heart
first upon that, but keeps it to it, causes it to
dwell upon that in three several petitions,
varying the expression of that one desire, as
often as there be several requests following,
of our own concernment; teaching us, that
that doth, in its own worth, and therefore
should likewise in our affection, itself alone
being but one, weigh down all the different
things besides that we can desire. And thus
withal, it is accommodate to our dulness, for
that our hearts would not readily, with one
word, be either duly stirred up or stretched
forth in the hºl, desire: so that, both to
excite and to dilate them the more, it is thus
iterated without vain tautology. This so
short and complete a form, given us by so
608
ExPOSITION OF THE LORD's PRAYER.
wise a master, is far from that; yea, it was
particularly intended in opposition to that
abuse. And not only doth the dignity of the
thing itself, and our indisposedness, require
this adding of one request to another con-
cerning it, but there is in the petitions them-
selves, a very profitable difference, though
their scope is one: they are as so many sev-
eral arrows aimed at the same mark. The
first, in general, wishes all manner of honor
to the name of God; and because his name
is especially honored in the advancement,
and in the completing of his spiritual king-
dom, the second is particular in that. And
because until that kingdom be completed
and brought all together, it lies in two seve-
ral countries—there is one part of it already
above, which is the appointed place for the
perfection and perpetuity of this kingdom;
another part here below, but tending thith-
er; this third petition particularly concerns
these of this lower region and condition, de-
siring this, that in obedience to their king,
they may be as conformed as is possible, to
those above. Thy will be done on earth as
it is in heaven.
Thy will.] God is most perfectly one, and
his will one ; yea, his will is himself, he is
purus actus ; yet, in respect of its several
objects or circumstances that concern them,
It is diversely distinguished in the schools,
sometimes needlessly, yea, erroneously, but
some of the distinctions are sound and use-
ful. But here we shall not need them much.
His will is here taken, according to a very
usual figure, for that which he wills; and
we desire here, that we ourselves, and oth-
ers, may be obedient to his will in every-
thing, even here on earth: that he may be
acknowledged and served, not only in heav-
en, but here likewise.
. For this, no question, means not the equal-
ity of our obedience to theirs, but the quality
of it; that, though it fall very far short of so
perfect a pattern, yet it may bear some
resemblance to it; as a scholar's writing,
though it be nothing so good as his copy, yet
may have so much likeness as to show he
follows it. It doth no wrong, but helps a
man much in anything, the more perfect ex-
ample he hath before him ; although he be
not able to match it, yet, the looking on it,
makes him do the better: though an archer
shoot not so high as he aims, yet the higher
he takes his aim, the higher he shoots. Ánd,
that we may not think it strange, that we
have here the citizens of heaven set before
us as a model for obedience, we have our
heavenly Father himself propounded by our
Savior in the former chapter, as our exam-
ple for perfection: Be ye perfect, as your
heavenly Father is perfect. #: obedience in
heaven, is, 1. Universal, without choosing
and excepting ; and this is, because the will
and command of God is the very reason of it.
The angels are said to do his commandments,
hearkening to the voice of his word ; Psalm
ciii. 20: they wait but for a word from him,
and that is enough. And in this should we
desire to be like them. Though we can not
fully keep any one commandment, yet should
we exclude none of them from our endeav-
or : yea, the rather, because we want that
perfection in the degree, should we study
this other, which is a kind of perfection in
the design and purpose, to have respect to all
the commandments, as David says: to have
our eye upon them all, as the word there is,
Psalm crix. 6. So Psalm xvi. 8: I have set
the Lord always before me [a qualiter posuij;
in an even, constant regard of his will. And
the want of this discovers, that much of our
obedience hath not the right stamp on it, is
no way heavenly.
A man may think he approves and does
the will of God in some things, where it is
but by accident, because the letter of the
commandment is coincident with his own
will ; and so, it is not the will of God, but
his own, that moves him ; therefore, in doing
that which God commands, he does not God’s
will, but his own ; and therefore, when they
meet not, but are contrary, there it appears,
for he leaves God’s will then, and follows his
own. A covetous father condemns the prod-
igality of his lavish son, and the son again
cries out against the avarice of his niggardly
father, and thus both seem to condemn sin;
but the truth is, neither do it: it is but two
extreme sins fighting together, neither of
them regarding the rule that God hath set :
it is but their two idols choking each other,
as the heathen set their gods together by the
ears. But they who therefore hate sin, be-
cause of God’s countermand, and love his
will for itself, their obedience is more even,
and regards the whole will of God, and at all
times: for there is that universality too in
their obedience, conformable to that of heav-
en. So shall I keep thy law, says David, con-
tinually, for ever and ever. Psalm crix. 44.
See a man's carriage when tempted or
provoked to some sin. For when the oc-
casion is out of reach, and out of sight, what
wonder if then he forbears? But when it
offers itself, as, by company, intemperance,
or cursing or swearing by passion, it appears,
if a man yield then, that sin was not out be:
fore, but only lay close and quiet within, till
it was stirred, as mud in the bottom of water.
Natura verata prodit seipsam. So, a man
may, for his own gain, or his own glory, do
God’s will. Jehu could say to Jonadab, Come
and see my zeal for the Lord. .
2. The obedience of heaven is cheerful.
It is the very natural motion of glorified spir-
its, to be acted and moved by the will of God.
They excel in strength, says the psalmist, in
that ciiid Psalm, and do his commandments :
they have no other use for all their strength;
that is the proper employment of it. Thus,
the godly man, in so far, as he is renewed
(for in so far he suits with heaven), delights
himself in the way of God’s commandments,
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD'S PRAYER.
609
takes more pleasure in keeping them, than
profane men do in all their pleasures of sin,
by which they break them. He is never
well but when he is in the way of obedience;
and the ways of sin are painful and grievous
to him. Then hath he most inward gladness
and contentment, when he keepeth closest to
his rule. And the reason why he finds the
law of God thus pleasant, is, because it is not
to him, as to the ungodly, one without, dri-
ving him violently, but it is within him, and
therefore moves him sweetly. I delight to
do thy will, O my God, Psalm xl. 8, and he
adds, Thy law is within my heart, or, in the
midst of my bowels. So, Psalm lxxxiv. 5:
In whose heart are thy ways: not only their feet
in the ways, but the ways are in their hearts.
3. They do the will of God in heaven,
unanimously and harmoniously; there is nei-
ther an evil eye of envy among them, nor a
lofty eye of pride, whatsoever degrees there
be among them in their stations and employ-
ments. Not to be curious in that, nor to ob-
trude ourselves into things we have not seen,
yet, we are sure, the lesser do not envy the
greater, nor the greater despise the less; and
the reason is, because they are all so wholly
taken up and so strongly united in this joint
desire of doing the will of God. Thus ought
his servants here, each one in his place,
and according to that which God hath dis-
pensed to him, the greatest, humbly, and the
meanest, contentedly, to mind this, and noth-
ing but this, to do his will.
Answerably to the sense of this petition, do
godly men, in prayer, [1..] Went their regret
and grief unto God, that there is so little re-
gard and obedience to his among men, that
they see the greatest part taking pleasure in
unrighteousness, as the apostle speaks, 2
Thess. ii. 12. Thus David, Psalm czix. 136:
Rivers of water run down mine eyes because
men keep not thy law. And as they bewail
ungodliness without them, so especially, the
strength of corruption within themselves:
they begin there, and express their grief, in
the presence of God, that they are so clogged
and hampered with sin cleaving fast to them,
and crossing their purposes of obedience ;
saying with the apostle, I find a law in my
ºmembers warring against the law of my mind.
Rom. vii. 23. [2] They declare their desire
of redress, both in themselves and others;
that their great desire is, that more obedience
were given unto God, and particularly, that
they had more faculty and strength to serve
him. Psalm czix. 4, 5, [3.] They pray in this,
for the effecting of this their desire, that God
would incline men's hearts, and particularly
their own to the obedience of his will (what-
soever vam will-worshippers say, they are
indeed in that sense, 80s).30pmokot, make a deity
of the will); not doubting that it is in his
hand to do so, and that he hath more power
of our hearts than we ourselves have. Oth-
erwise, it were in vain to put these supplica-
tions into his hand, if he have no power to
answer them, to give them the real answer
of performance. Incline my heart unto th
law, &c., Turn us, O Lord, &c. [4]. They
do, in this request, offer up their own hearts
to God, to be fashioned and moulded to his
will. And every godly man, if he had the
hearts of all the men in the world in his dis-
posal, he would dispose them the same way,
lodge them with his own, and make one sacri-
fice of all. His own he gives wholly, resigns
it up to his Lord, to be as a piece of wax, in
God's hand, pliable to what form he will, to do
with it what he will, to turn out and banish
whatsoever displeases him, and to make it to
his own mind. In a word, this is the desire
of a Christian, that his own will may be an-
nihilated, and the will of God placed in its
room; that he may have no will but God's;
that he may be altogether subject both to God's
commanding and his working will, to do what
he commands, and to be heartily content with
what he does; for both these are in it.
Where he commands anything, though our
own corrupt will grumble at it, and think it
hard, we must tread upon it to obey his will,
making that the rule of all we do. To this
end, we must endeavor to be acquainted with
his will, and to know what it is: otherwise
we can not do it. But once knowing it, this
is the end of knowing, to do; otherwise, you
know, that knowledge will make us the
worse for it, the more guilty.
It is a a safe and comfortable thing, to walk
every step by his direction. The constant
regard of that, is, we see, what conforms us
to heaven. It was observable how this will
prevailed with Abraham: he was a loving fa-
ther, it appears, and upon Sarah's private
motion, while there was no more, he could
not find in his heart to put Ishmael out of
doors, who was but the son of the bond-wo-
man ; but upon God's command, he was
ready to put Isaac to death, who was the son
of the promise. And He who taught us to
pray thus, gives us his own example in this:
he did the will of his Father indeed, as it is
done ºn heaven, and he came to the earth for
that purpose: Then, said he, Lo, I come to
do thy will, O my God. And, in that great
and most painful part of his work, Not my
will, but thine be done. For our actions,
then, let his word be our guide; and for the
events of things, and all that concerns us,
let his good pleasure and wise disposing be
our will. Let us give up the rudder of our
life into his hand, to be steered by him.
For our actions, is it not better to observe.
his will, than to be subject to our own cor-
rupt wills, and to Satan's, led captive at his
will & And, as it is our best, to do what
pleaseth him, so, in all his dealings with us,
to be pleased with what he does; not to think
it were better for us to be richer or greater in-
the world than we are, or to murmur and
struggle under affliction. There is nothing
to be gained by this. Who hath resisted his
will at any time? In all things he doth what
77
610
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD’S PRAYER.
he will, whether it like us or not. Our re-
pining hinders not his working at all, but it
hinders our own comfort: our wrestling and
fretting doth but pain ourselves. . If we be
his (as we profess), then, we may be assured
he loves us; and if we believe that, and withal
believe that he is wiser than we, then we
must confess, that whatsoever he doth with
us, is better than our own choosing for our-
selves could be.
This is the only way of constant quietness
and contentment of mind. Who is there out-
wardly so prosperous, but meets with many
things that cross his will ? Now, he who
hath renounced his own will, and is fixed
upon a continual complacency with the good
pleasure and providence of God, to will what
he wills, and nothing else; everything that
befalls him, he looks upon that side of it as
God's will, and so is satisfied: Doth God
think this good, and shall I think it evil 3
There is a difference of estates, but all
coming from the same hand (which is Job’s
consideration), to embrace and kiss the worst
that can come, is our duty. It is the Lord,
said David, let him do what seems good in his
eyes. 2 Sam, x. 12. Thus, Wilt thou have
me poor or rich, healthful or sick, esteemed
or despised ? Wilt thou that I live, or that I
die? I am thine, thy will be done.
Give us this day our daily ; Man is
made up of two different principles, a soul
derived from heaven, and a body at first
moulded out of earth; as Nazianzen expres-
ses it, rvous wai xois, the breath of God, and the
dust of the earth, Ea, igneo spiritu, et terre-
no scorpore. And according to his composi-
tion, so is this prayer comprised; being made
for his use, it is wisely fitted to his condition.
The greatest part of it is taken up with
such desires as are spiritual, and so most
suitable to his worthier part, his soul; such
as do immediately concern God, and such as
properly concern itself. Yet, the body is not
wholly shut out: though the meaner part,
yet being a part of man, and the workman-
ship of God, this one petition is bestowed
upon its concernment.
Observe in it briefly, First, The matter or
object of the request. Secondly, The qualifi-
cation of it. The matter under the name of
bread; not only bread for all food, as the He-
brews do, but food, so named for all other
necessaries. By bread, as the chief support
and staff of man's life, is meant, all needful
temporal blessings, food and raiment, and
'health and peace, &c., a blessing on the works
of our calling, and the seasons of the year,
and all our lawful temporal affairs.
Though a godly man looks upon the neces-
-sities of this life as a piece of his present cap-
tivity, and is often looking beyond it to that
purer life he hopes for, yet, in the mean-
while, he doth, in obedience to God, use
these things, and in dependance upon God, he
$eeks them at God’s own hand.
In the request, together with its object, as
here we have it, there is, I. Piety. II. Moo-
eration—Godliness and soberness.
I. Piety, in asking our bread of God, in
asking it in the true notion, by way of gift.
Our daily bread. There is a natural cry
or voice of our necessity, and that not only
ungodly men, but unreasonable creatures
have, the very beasts and fowls, as the
cxlviith Psalm hath it (ver. 9): The ravens ask
their meat from God. But this spiritual cry
of prayer is the peculiar voice of God's own
children. Now, to ask bread, or needful tem-
poral things, at the hands of God, is not only
no way incongruous to the piety and spiritual-
mindedness of a Christian, and no wrong to
the majesty of God, but, on the contrary, it
were impiety in man, and an injury to God,
not to do so. We have here the warrant of
his own command, Pray thus. And is it not
most reasonable 2
1. Seeing these things are necessary for us
to receive, and are in the hand of God to be-
stow, why ought we not to seek them there 7
Ahthough, in his wisdom, he knows what we
need, and is in bounty most ready to furnish
us, yet, this is the homage we owe to God, to
present ourselves and our neeessities before
him, and seek our supplies by prayer. In it,
there is a clear acknowledgment of the Di-
vine providence and goodness, and of our
faith and reliance on it. And faith is not
only signified in prayer, in these things, but
is acted and excited, and by that means is
increased and strengthened.
2. Godliness hath both kinds of promises,
those of the life to come, and those of this life.
1 Tim. iv. 8. And as godliness hath a right
to them both, so, it teacheth to use them
both ; and particularly this way, by turning
the promises into prayers, as a means ap-
pointed by God, both to fit us for obtainment,
and to obtain the performance of them.
3. Though a man hath his provision by
him, not only of a day, but of many years,
yet hath he need still daily to ask it of
God; for it is still in God's hand to give it
to him, or not to give, though it is in a man’s
own hand in present possession. [1..] It is in
God’s disposal to continue it to him, or sud-
denly to pluck it from him out of his hand, or
even out of his mouth, ui bolus ereptus é fau-
cibus. How many have been thus on a Sud-
den turned out of great estates into extreme
poverty, either by the hands of men, which
are moved by God, or by some immediate ac-
cident from his own hand; and others, by lit-
tle and little, their estates consuming and
melting as snowballs In the former, the
judgment of God is as a lion, and in the lat-
ter, as a moth, as the prophet speaks. Hos. v.
12, 14. Again, [2.] If God do continue a man
in his possessions, yet, there is further need-
ful for his cheerful use of daily bread, that
calmness and content of mind, and healthful-
mess of body, which are God’s peculiar gifts,
without which all is unsavory. Is the mind
in bitterness or distemper, or the body tied to
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD’S PRAYER.
611
its sick-bed, this disrelishes a man's daily
bread, though it be of the richest kind.
[3.] Having bread, and a disposition to use
it, yet, there is further an influence of bles-
sing from God needful to make it serve its
proper end ; and without this, that staff of
life is but as a broken staff in a man’s hand,
that can not support him. [4.] Besides that
ordinary blessing, there is yet something fur-
ther, that a godly man desires, and desires
most of all, a secret character and stamp of
the peculiar favor of God even upon his
bread, his temporal enjoyments. And this is
'a proper fruit of prayer. As there is (as is
already said) a peculiar voice of God’s own
children in this request, so, God knows it par-
ticularly, and distinguishes it from the com-
mon voice of natural men, and other creatures
that call for supply; and therefore, he gives
that peculiar voice of their suit, a peculiar
answer: together with the daily bread which
he gives to others, and a common blessing on
it, they have something that is not given
to others. This is that which particularly
Sweetens their bread, that they receive it af.
ter a special manner out of their Father's
own hand, having humbly asked it by prayer
as his gift.
That is the other thing observable in the
word of the request, Give,
We are not by this forbidden, no, nor dis-
pensed with from labor and honest industry
for it, but, after all our our labor, we are still
to acknowledge all as a free gift ; both the
bread we obtain by labor, and the strength by
which we labor. Just as we find it of the
other bread, the bread of life. John vi. 27.
Labor for that meat which endureth unto ever-
lasting life, which the Son of man shall give
unto you : labored for, and yet given. The
fruit of our labors may be just reward
from men, but it is always free from God;
even these lowest benefits to the best and ho-
liest men. I am less, says Jacob, than the
least of thy mercies. Gen. xxxii. 10. We
have no motive for the least mercy, but his
own goodness as our Father ; so that it suits
with this, as with all the other requests here.
Though we deserve nothing, yet He is our
Father: it is proper for children to ask bread
of their father, as our Savior teaches us in the
next chapter; therefore he teaches us here to
say, Father, give us bread.
II. The moderation of the desire appears
in comparison of the number of the other peti-
tions. All the rest are for things spiritual,
and but one for temporals: those that regard
the glory of God as the chief are three to one
with it ; and those that concern our own
spiritual good, two for one. Thus for the
number. And as for the order or place, which
so many have taken quite contrary, it suits
very well with this as the least of our re-
quests, and so to be accounted by us. It is
strange, that this right place of it should have
scared men from its right meaning, and per-
suaded them to take it for our spiritual food,
or the bread of life, because it is the first of
the three. But taking it as it is, for this
life's necessaries, there is no need of such
reasons as some give for its standing in this
order, which are a little light and unsolid.
But, to omit even those that are more perti-
nent, which justify this order, though this pe-
tition be less than the two following, it seems
truly the only fit place for it, for that very
reason, because it is the least. It is known
to be the ordinary course of skilful orators, to
place the meanest part of their speech in the
middle ; and in this, let the ear of any under-
standing mind be judge, whether it sounds
not much better, that this request pass in the
middle, than if the prayer should have ended
with it. Whereas now, it begins spiritually,
and closes so. And this petition, which is
de, impedimentis militiae nostrap (for the
things of this life prove so too often), is cast
in the middle.
Now, how few are there who follow Christ's
estimate in this, who have the very strength
of their desires, and most of their thoughts,
on things that are spiritual, and do but in
passing lend a word to the things of this
liſe !” This proportion few will admit: it
makes not for their purpose. The apostle
gives this character of those who perish, that
they mind ed?thly things. Phil. iii. 19.
But to consider the words, each word de-
signing the matter of this request, doth clear-
ly teach us moderation in it. Give us our
daily bread. Having food and raiment,
says the apostle, let us be content. 1 Tim. vi.
8. How few be there of us, if any, who want
these ; and yet, how few that have content-
ment It is the enormity and boundlessness
of our desires that causeth this. There is no
necessity for curious food and raiment, but
such food as nourishes, and such raiment as
COW erS.
Our daily bread. In the original, 3rtoijotot.
Not at all to dispute the word, its genuine
sense is, such as is fit for our daily sustenta-
tion ; therefore rendered, daily bread. And
it answers well to the word in that petition
of Agur, Prov. xxx. 8, convenient (or propor-
tionable) food, and so agrees with what we
said of bread—proportionable, not to our lust,
but our necessity. This was the sin of the
Jews, and a most impertinent sin in the wil-
derness, They asked meat for their lust:
(Psalm lxxviii. 18), they were not content with
bread for themselves, but must have meat for
their lust too, must have that fed likewise,
We are not to be carvers of the proportion
ourselves, but leave that to God, who knows
best what is convenient for us; therefore the
word is there, of my set, or ordained, portion
—ordained by thee.
Our bread, ['Huðv.] Not seeking any Qther
than that which is our own by our just in-
dustry and God's free gift, What is it, but
the base, immoderate desire of having, that
* Quamprimum a carpore ad animam redeundum.—
SENECA.
612
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD’S PRAYER.
*.
stretches a man beyond this? When a man
lays down that conclusion with himself, that
he must have so much, then it follows, that
any way tending to that he must use; if he
can, by right, but if not, any way, rather than
miss; by violence and oppression, or by de-
ceit, through all ways, fair and foul.” When
a man is once upon that journey there is no
stopping, until either God recall him, or he
plunge himself in the pit of destruction.
They that will be rich, says the apostle, who
are resolved upon that, they fall into tempta-
tion and divers snares, which drown men in
destruction and perdition. 1 Timothy, vi. 9.
That is the issue.
This day. It is true, that this condemns
not a due providence in men for themselves
and their families, in a just and moderate
way. But men deceive themselves in this;
few stay there, but, under that name, harbor
gross avarice and earthliness. But in this
word, we have the true temper of a Chris-
tian mind, that, whatsoever is his own law-
ful providence, and whatsoever is the success
of it, what he lives and relies on, is, the prov-
idence of God, not his own : he lives upon
that from one day to another, as a child in
his father's house; and for provision for af.
terward, thinks it as good in God's hand as if
it were in his own, and therefore asks not
so much stock, or so much yearly rent, but
bread for to-day. If he have much land or
great revenues, yet, he trusts no more in that,
than if he had nothing ; and if he have bread
for to-day, and nothing for to-morrow (as the
Israelites had manna), yet he trusts no less
in God than if he had thousands. He re-
solves thus: Whether I have much or lit-
tle, I am at God's providing, and live upon
that from day to day. The Lord is my shep-
herd ; I shall not want.
Evgé8eta durápksta, 1 Tim. vi. 6—these two
together, as we have observed them here to-
gether, godliness and moderation: godliness
in this particular, of casting over our care of
temporal things on God by prayer. So Phil.
iv. 5–Let your moderation be known. But
how shall we have it 2 Make your requests
Known unto God, and that in all things.
That will ease you, and not trouble him.
But when we lodge such desires as are not fit
indeed to be imparted to him, this is our
shame, and proves our vexation. It is a won-
der what men mean, but it is a folly so root-
ed in men's hearts, that no discourse will
pluck it up ; they imagine that there is hap-
piness in having much, and will neither be-
lieve religion, nor reason, nor experience,
though all teach the contrary. They can not
be persuaded to make this the rule of their
desires—daily bread, and, for to-day ; but
are still projecting for a long time to come,
though they are not sure of a day. Men are
still beginning to live, even when their years
tell them they should be thinking how to die;
* Si possis, recte, si mon, quocumque modo, R.E.M.–
HoRACE.
in these times.
are upon new contrivances for the world,
when they must shortly leave it. And this
is one point of this our decease, that it grows
still and is strongest in old age, when there
is least reason for it. Quo minus via restat,
eo plus viatici comparare.
What is this that riches can do 2 Our Sa-
vior tells us, if we will believe him, that Man’s
life doth not consist in the abundance of the
things he possesseth. Luke xii. 15. There is
something necessary, we see, and truly that
is not much ; and what more than serves,
many times proves but mere incumbrance.
One staff will help a man in his way, but a
bundle of staves would burden and weary
him. Would men but stop a little and ask
themselves, What is this I do 2 What do I
aim at in all my turmoil 3 it might possibly
recall them. Would they but hear Solomon’s
question, Eccl. v. 11, and tell him, what good
the rich have of possessing more than they use,
but only the beholding of them with their eyes.
If there be anything more, it is more care
and trouble, et curae circum laqueata tecta vo-
lantes. He that hath a hundred rooms, hath
but one body; he can lodge but in One at
once. He that might have sea and land ran-
sacked for delicates of his table, hath himself
but one appetite to serve with them all.
Then, consider, that beyond the bounds of
this petition, if a man once pass, there be no
bounds after ; he knows not where to stay.
Depinge ubi sistam. One thousand would
have something more, to save it unspent ;
and when that grows a little, it is best even
to make another thousand, and save that too,
and fall a scraping for more.
And if this is always a phremsy, most of all
Behold, says God to Baruch,
I will break down that which I have built, and
that which I have planted will I pluck up, even
this whole land, and seekest thou great things
for thyself? Jer. xlv. 4, 5.
But is it not wisdom to be provident, and to
see far before a man 2 And to look no farther
but to the present, is it not the character of
a fool 2 True, it is indeed; and therefore,
the truly wise man despises this providence
for a base, uncertain life, and is content if
alive but from one day to another. But
there is a higher design in his head, a provi-
dence of a farther reach, that sees afar off,
indeed, to make himself an estate for eterni-
ty. That takes up his thoughts and pains ;
the other is the grossest short-sightedness, to
look no farther than a moment; it is indeed,
porately, as St. Peter speaks. But that life
the Christian's eye is upon, is of another na-
ture, where none of these poor things shall
have place, no marrying nor giving in mar-
riage, as our Savior says; so, no eating or
drinking, no need of bread, nor of this prayer
for it; but we shall be as the angels of God.
And forgive us our debts as we forgive our
debtors.] Thy loving kindness, says David,
is better than life : therefore, this request rises
above the former. In it, we sought bread
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD’S PRAYER.
613
for the present life; in this we entreat his fa-
vor; not corn, nor wine, nor oil, but that
which glads the heart more than them all,
the light of his countenance ; that the thick
cloud of our sins be dispelled by a free pardon,
as he promises, Isa. xliv. 2.
In this petition we have, 1. The request.
2. The clause added.
Forgive us our debts. That which is here
called debts, St. Luke hath sins ; and here, in
the observation our Savior adds, they are
called, Taoarrópara, offences. Now sin, as
it is called a debt, is taken for the guiltiness
of sin, which is no other than paenas debere,
to owe the suffering of punishment, or an
obligement to the curse which the Law hath
pronounced against sin; and because this re-
sults so immediately from sin, therefore, sin
is often put for the engagement to punish-
ment; so the apostle's phrase, 1 Cor. xv. ult.,
may be taken. So then, the debt of sin being
the tie to punishment which follows upon it,
the forgiving of sin can be no other than the
acquitting of a man from that curse, setting
him free from his debt, his engagement to
suffer ; and therefore, to imagine a forgive-
ness of sin with retaining of the punishment,
is direct nonsense, and a contradiction.
To pass the words of this request through
our mouths, as the rest, is an easy and com-
mon thing, but altogether fruitless; but to
offer it as a spiritual supplication of the heart
unto God, is a thing done but by a few ; and
to as many as do offer it so, it never returns
in vain, but is certainly granted. Now, to
offer it so, as a lively spiritual suit unto God,
there are necessarily supposed in the soul
that presents it, these things:—
1. A clear conviction and deep sense of the
guiltiness of sin. Both in general, what this
guiltiness is, what is that debt which sin en-
gages us in, that misery to which it binds us
over ; as, first, the deprivenent of happiness,
the loss of God and his favor for ever; and
secondly, the endless endurance of his wrath
and hottest indignation, and all the anguish
which that is able to fill the soul with to all
eternity. Unsufferable, inconceivable tor-
ment, described to us by such things as we
can understand, but going infinitely beyond
them, a gnawing worm that dies not, and a
fire that can not be quenched. This is the
portion of the sinner from God, and the heri-
tage appointed to him by God, as Zophar
speaks, Job xx. 29. Then, in particular,
there must be a seeing of our own guiltiness.
A man must know himself to be nothing else
than a mass of sin, and so, fuel for that fire;
must see himself a transgressor of the whole
law of God, and therefore abundantly liable
to that sentence of death.
2. Upon this apprehension will follow a
Very earnest desire to be free, and such a
word as that, O wretched man that I am, who
shall deliver me ! And seeing no way either
to satisfy or escape, without a free pardon, the
soul then looks upon that as its only happi-
mess, with David : Blessed is the man—O the
blessedness of that man —whose iniquity is
forgiven, and whose sin is covered. Psalm
xxxii. 1.
3. In this request, there is a taking of it as
a thing attainable; for it is implied that there
is no impossibility in it. And this arises from
the promises of God, and the tenor of the cove-
nant of grace, and the Mediator of that cove-
nant revealed in the word, apprehended only
in their general tenor.
4. It imports an humble confession of guilti-
ness before the Lord ; as it follows there, Ps.
XXxii. 5: I acknowledged my sin, and mine
iniquity have I not hid. The way to find God
hiding and covering it, he perceived, was for
himself not to hide it. The way to be ac-
quitted at God's hand, is for the soul with
ºility and grief to accuse itself before
1Iſle
5. Where there is this sensible knowledge
and humble acknowledgment of sin and mis-
ery, and earnest desire of pardon, them doth
a man truly offer this suit unto God with
strong affection, Lord, this is my request, that
º sin may be forgiven ; and prays it in faith,
which is a more particular laying hold on the
promises, believing that he will forgive, and
therefore waits for an answer, to hear that
voice of joy and gladness, as David speaks,
Psalm li. 8, to hear the word of his pardon
from God, spoken into his soul. And for this
cause (beside the need of daily pardon for
daily sins), the most godly men have need to
renew this suit, that, together with pardon,
they may obtain the comfortable persuasion
and assurance of it. And though they have
some assurance, yet, there be further degrees
of it possible, and desirable, clearer evidences
of reconcilement and acceptance with God.
Forgiveness itself is, indeed, the main, and is
often granted where the other, the assurance
of it, is withheld for a time : but there is no
Question that we may, yea, that we ought to
desire it, and seek after it. He is blessed
who is pardoned, though as yet he know it
not; yet, doubtless, it abates much of his hap-
piness for the time that he does not know it.
Non est beatus, esse qui se non putet.
The philosopher says, The poor man thinks
him happy who is rich, and the sick man, him
who is in health : their own wants make them
think so. Now, this forgiveness of sin is hap-
piness indeed ; yet a man must first feel the
want of it, before he judge so. But here is
the difference: when he hath obtained it, he
shall think so still: whereas the other, being
tried, are found to fall short, and do not make
any man happy.
Seeing this is a request of so great moment,
may we not wonder at ourselves, that we are
so cold and indifferent in it? But the true
reason of this is, because so few are truly
sensible of this heavy debt, of the weight of
sin unpardoned. A man who feels it not,
prays thus, not much troubling his thoughts
whether it be granted or no; but he who is
614
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD'S PRAYER.
Indeed pressed with the burden of sin, cries
in earnest, Lord, forgive. David knew what
he said, when he caiſed him blessed whose sin
is forgiven; the word is, who is unloaded of
his sin. He was a king, and a great captain,
but he says not, “He is a blessed man who
wears a crown, or who is successful in war,”
but, “Blessed is he whose sin is taken off his
shoulders; whatsoever he is otherwise, he is
a happy man.” It is in vain to offer a con-
science groaning under sin, anything else, un-
til it be eased of that. If you should see a
man lying grovelling under some weight that
is ready to press him to death, and should
bring sweet music to him, and cover a table
with delicacies before him, but let him lie
still under his burden, could he, think you,
take any pleasure in those things 2 Were
it not rather to mock him, to use him so 2
And though we feel it not as troubled con-
sciences do, yet, we are truly miserable in all
enjoyments, until this forgiveness be obtained.
To what purpose daily bread, yea, what is
the greatest abundance of all outward things,
but a glittering misery, if this be wanting 2
But he who is once forgiven, and received in-
to favor with God, what can befall him amiss 2
Though he hath no more of the world than
daily bread, and of the coarsest sort, he hath
a continual feast within : as he that said,
“ Brown bread and the gospel, is good fare.”
Now, the gospel is the doctrine of this for-
giveness of sin, and is therefore so sweet to
an humbled sinner. Yea, though a man have
not only a small portion of earthly comforts,
but be under divers afflictions and chastise-
ments, yet, this makes him cheerful in all :
as Luther said, Feri, Domine, &c. Use me
as thou wilt, seeing thou hast forgiven my
sin, all is well.
Lastly, as there must be earnest desire in
the request, so, withal, firm belief. Ask in
faith. If once thou art become an humble
suiter for mercy, and that is the great desire
of thy heart, that God would take away thy
sin, and be reconciled to thee; then know,
that he will not cast back thy petition in dis-
pleasure. Now, he is gracious, and whatso-
ever thou hast been, consider what he is.
Doth he receive any for anything in them-
selves 2 What is the cause he pardons any ?
Is it not for his own name's sake 2 Isa. xliii.
25. And will not that reason serve for thee,
as much as for others ? Will it not avail for
many sins, as well as for few 2 Hast thou
multiplied sin often, abused his mercy, but
now mournest before him for it? Then he
will multiply pardon. Isa. lv. 7; Jer. iii. 1.
Thou hast rebelled much, but he is thy Fa-
ther, and hath the bowels of a father to a re-
penting child. And this style we give him in
this prayer, as fitly urging all our suits, Fa-
ther, forgive us our sins ; therefore forgive,
because thou art our Father. And then con-
sider, that he who puts this petition, among
the rest, in our mouths, hath satisfied for be.
lievers, paid all their scores, and answered
justice to the full, and in him we are forgiven:
it is a free forgiveness to us, though he hath
paid for it; and he himself was freely given
to us, to undertake and satisfy for us. Yet,
let not any thus embolden themselves to sin;
this were the grossest impudence, to come to
crave pardon of sin while we delight in it,
and to desire it to be forgiven, while we have
no mind to part with it and forsake it. For
this privilege belongs only to repenting and
returning sinners.
As we forgive our debtors.] This is added
both as a fit motive for us to use with God,
and as a suitable duty that he requires of us.
The former we may perceive in the manner
that St. Luke hath it: For we also forgive
every one that is indebted to us. Thou, Lord,
requirest of us to forgive others, and thou
workest it in some of us to do so: how much
more then may we hope, thou wilt forgive
us? If there be any such goodness in us, it
is from thee, and therefore is infinitely more
in thyself, as the ocean of goodness.
Again, this is likewise a very profitable ar-
gument to move us to this duty; as we see
clearly by our Savior’s returning to speak of
it after the prayer: it is not only bound upon
us by this precept, but by our prayer.
This (as), just as before in the third peti-
tion, means not equality in the degree, but
conformity in the thing.
Now, the request running thus, they who do
not forgive their brethren, turn it into a most
heavy curse to themselves, and, in effect, pray
daily, Lord, never forgive me my sin. And
whether they say this or no, he will do thus,
if we be such fools as not to accept of such
an agreement. He hath infinite debt upon
our heads, that we shall never be able to pay :
now, though there is no proportion, yet he is
graciously pleased, without further reckoning,
to forgive us all, and discharge us fully, if we
accept (as it were) of this his letter of ex-
change, and for his sake forgive our brethren
the few pence that at the most they can be
owing us, in lieu of the thousands of talents
that he acquits to us. And by this as our cer-
tain evidence, we may be assured of our par-
don, and rejoice in it, as our Savior after
clearly affirms; and therefore, on the contra-
ry (which he likewise tells us), may well
take our debates, and hatreds, and desires of
revenge, as a countersign, testifying to us
that we are not forgiven at God's hand.
And think not to satisfy him with superfi-
cial forgivenesses and reconcilements. Would
we be content with such pardon from God, to
have only a present forbearance of revenge,
or that he should not quarrel with us, but no
further friendship with him ; that he should
either use strangeness with us, and not speak
to us, or only for fashion's sake? And yet,
such are many of our reconcilements with
our brethren. God's way of forgiving is thor-
ough and hearty, both to forgive and to forget
(as Jer. xxxi.); and if thine be not so, thou
hast no portion in his.
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD'S PRAYER.
615
What a base, miserable humor is this same
desire of revenge, this spirit of malice that
possesses, men, and they think themselves
brave in it, that they forgive no injuries, can
put up with no affronts, as they speak | Solo-
mon was of another mind, and he was a king,
and a wise king, and knew well enough what
honor meant: It is the glory of a man to pass
by a transgression, said he, Proverbs xix. 11.
And we see, inferior magistrates and officers
may punish : but it is a part of the preroga-
tive of kings to pardon : it is royal to forgive,
yea, it is Divine, it is to be like a God. Matt. v.
44–48: Be you perfect, as your heavenly Fa-
ther is perfect—and the perfection is, Do good
to them that persecute you, &c., as HE causeth
the sun to shine on the just and the unjust.
There is more true pleasure in forgiving,
than ever any man found in revenge. Father
DeSales said, that “Whereas men think it so
hard a thing to forgive a wrong, he found it
so sweet, that, if the contrary were command-
ed him, he would have much ado to obey it.”
Were the law of love written in our hearts,
it would be thus with us. It would teach us
effectually to forgive others, if we knew and
found in our experience the boundless love of
God in forgiving us.
And lead us not into temptation, but deliv-
er us from evil..] As the doctrine of Divine
mercy, mistaken and abused by carnal minds,
emboldens them to sin : so, being rightly ap-
prehended and applied, there is nothing more
powerful to possess the heart with indigna-
tion against sin, and love of holiness. So that
this request agree most fitly with the former:
where that is presented aright, the heart will
be no less sincere and earnest in this other.
The guiltiness of sin, and the prevailing pow-
er of it, are the two evils which the godly
feel more than all other pressures in the
world. Deliverance from both, is jointly
promised in the new covenant (Jer. xxxi. 33,
34), and is here jointly entreated in these
two petitions. We shall explain,
I. What this temptation and evil is.
II. What is meant by not leading into it,
and delivering from it.
I. Temptation | In the original, IIeupaguds,
a trial; that which gives proof of a man's
strength, and of his disposition, which draws
forth what is within him. And thus, in most
things we meet withal in the world, there is
some tempting faculty, to try us what we are,
on the using of them. But, especially such
things as are more eminent in their nature,
that have much power with us: as eminent
place and public charge try both the ability
and integrity of men: afflictions try the faith
and stability of men's minds; injuries try
whether they are truly meek and patient or
no ; they stir the water that was possibly clear
at top, and so try whether it be not muddy at
the bottom.
. But by temptation here, are meant, occa-
Sions and provocations to sin. So, likewise,
the word (evil) in the other clause, is not to
be taken for afflictions and crosses, but, for
the evil of sin, or for that evil one, as he is
called, 1 John ii. 13; and that, particularly in
relation to the evil of sin, wherein he hath so
frequent and so great a hand.
There be outward things which are not in
themselves evil, and yet prove temptations to
us, because they meet with a depraved, cor-
rupt heart in us; as riches, and honor, and
beauty, and, to intemperance, dainty meats,
or the wine when it is red in the cup, as Solo-
mon speaks; and upon these, men sometimes
turn over the blame of their disorders, but
most foolishly.
Other temptations and tempters there be
without us, which are themselves evil, and,
by tempting, partake of our sin; the profane
example and customs of the world; ungodly
men, by their practices, and counsels, and en-
ticements, drawing others to sin, putting oth-
ers into the same mire wherein they are wal-
lowing.
But the most effectual tempter of all, is that
which the Apostle St. James gives as the
chief, and without which, indeed, none other
could prevail. James i. 14: Every man is
tempted of his own concupiscence. Whoso-
ever it is that begets it, that is the womb
wherein all sin is conceived, and that brings
it forth, as he there adds: yea, this were able
of itself to be fruitful in sin, though there
were not a devil to tempt it to it, and doth no
doubt often tempt us without his help.
Yet because heis so continually busied in this
work, is so constant a stickler in the greatest
part of sins in the world, therefore, it is not
unlikely that this is particularly meant of him.
Howsoever, he is, out of doubt, the greatest
of all inward tempters (and therefore it is per-
tinent to consider his share in them), the most
skilful, the most active and diligent, and he
that manages all other kind of temptations
against us, both such as are without us in the
world and such as are within us: he works
upon our own corruption, stirring and blow-
ing it up by his suggestions, and sometimes
throwing in balls of his own infernal fire,
which are grievous and abominable to the
soul into which he casts them. It is his name
and profession, 6 Teipaşov, that great pirate, who
robs upon all seas, who is everywhere catching
the souls of men. And he is well seen in his
trade, a known spirit, who manifested his skill
shrewdly in his first essay against man ; that
serpent’s first poison killed the whole race of
mankind ; and now he is perfected by long
experience and practice, hath his methods,
as arts after a time are drawn into method.
He hath his topics, his several sorts of temp-
tations for several tempers, and hath great
insight into the subject he is to work upon,
and so fits the one to the other.
The profane, who will be easily drawn to
the grossest sins, he is not at the pains to find
out other ways for them, but hurries them
along in that highway to destruction, using
his advantage either of their gross ignorance
616
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD’S PRAYER.
or hardness of heart. Others, who are re-
solved to live outwardly blameless, he en-
deavors to take and hold fast to himself by
pride, and self-love, and malice, and covet-
ousness, by formality in religion, unbelief;
which are things, though smaller wrought
than some others, yet, there are as strong, and
hold men as fast to be led captive at his will.
And the godly, because they are escaped
and set free from his tyranny, and he is despe-
rate of reducing them, yet, because he can
do no more, he is sure to be a perpetual vex-
ation and trouble to them, so far as he is let
loose : he is most unwearied in his assaults,
gives them no respite, neither when he gains
upon them, nor when he is foiled and re-
pulsed.
II. Let us next consider what the request
1S,-not to be led into temptation, and, to be
delivered from evil.
Lead us not..] Not that God doth solicit a
man to sin, for that is most contrary to his
most pure nature : as St. James tells us plain-
ly, He is neither so tempted, nor tempts he any.
But his leading into temptation is, briefly,
[1..] To permit a man to be tempted. [2.]
To withdraw his grace, and so deliver up a
man into the hand or power of temptation.
Now this is what we pray, that the Lord
would be pleased either to bear off assaults
from us, and suffer us not to be tempted ; or,
if he let temptation loose upon us, yet, to give
us the better, to order it so that it overcome
us not. That which is here meant, by lead-
ing or carrying us into temptation, is, the
prevailing of it, or leading us into a foil, and
this we pray that he would not do; that, if
he do bring us into the conflict of a tempta-
tion, he would not leave us there, but bring us
fair off again. And thus the whole petition
runs, Lead us not, but deliver us. And in this
it is implied, that he would furnish us, with his
own grace, the holy habits of grace to be within
us, as a constantgarrison; and then, that either
he countermand our enemy from assaulting,
or that they be such as overmatch not the
strength he hath given us, but may be below
it; or, that he send us the auxiliary strength
of supervenient, assisting grace to that we
have, that howsoever, the forces that come
against us may be turned backward, and we
may have the comfort, and he the glory, of
OUIT WICtories.
So, then, in this we are taught, 1. To know
the danger wherein we are ; that we live in
the midst of enemies, and such as are strong
and subtle ; that we have the prince of dark-
ness plotting against us, and the treacherous
corruption of our own hearts ready to keep
correspondence with him, and betray us to
him ; that he hath gins and snares laid for us
in all our ways, laqueos ubique, laqueos in
cibo et potu, as Augustine speaks—shares in
our solitude and in our converse, and in our
eating and drinking, yea, Snares in our spirit-
ual exercise, our hearing, preaching, prayer,
&c., and therefore, as he here teaches us to
pray against them, we must join that, [1..]
To watch against them. . [2] To be sensible
of our own weakness and insufficiency, either
for avoiding or overcoming these dangers.
[3.] To know the all-sufficient strength of
God, his sovereign power over all adverse
powers, that they are all under his command,
so that he can keep them off from us, or sub-
due them under us, as he pleaseth ; and so to
have our recourse to this, and rest in it. The
first of these considerations, if it take with us,
will stir us up to watchfulness, and the other
two will persuade to prayer: and these are
the two great preservatives against tempta-
tion which our Savior prescribes; Watch and
pray lest you enter into temptation. Watch
—How can we sleep secure, and so many
enemies that sleep mot ? If we pray and
watch not, we tempt God, and we lead our-
selves into temptation. It is our duty (mock
the word who will), to walk exactly or pre-
cisely ākptóós, to look to every step, to beware
of the least sins. For, [1..] they by multitude
make a great weight. [2.] They prove usual-
ly introductions to greater sins. Admit but
some inordinate desire into your heart, that
you account a small matter, and it is a hun-
dred to one but it shall prove a little thief got
in, to open the door to a number of greater:
as the Rabbins speak, a less evil brings a man
into the hands of a greater.”
2. Avoid, not only sins, but the incentives
and occasions to sin. As St. Chrysostom
observes well that exhortation of our Savior,
When they shall say, here is Christ, and there
is Christ, he says not, Believe them not, but
go not forth to see. And Solomon's instruc-
tion for avoiding the allurements of the
strange woman, says not only, Go not in, but
come not near the door of her house. The
way of sin is motus in proclivi, down-hill: a
man can not stop where he would ; and he
that will be tampering with dangerous occa-
sions, in confidence of his resolution, shall find
himself often carried beyond his purpose. If
you pray, then, watch too. But as that word
commands our diligence, so this imports our
weakness in ourselves, and our strength to
be in another; that as we watch, we must
pray ; and without this, we shall watch in
vain, and be a prey to our enemy. Truly,
had we no power beyond our own, we might
give over, and be hopeless of coming through
to salvation, so many enemies and hazards
in the way. Alas ! might a Christian say,
looking upon the multitude of temptations
without, and of corruptions within himself,
and the weakness of the grace he hath, how
can this be 2 Shall I ever attain my journey’s
end ? But again, when he looks upward,
and lifts his eyes above his difficulties, beholds
the strength of God engaged for him, directs
his prayers to him for help, and is assured to
find it ; this upholds him, and answers all.
There is a roaring lion that seeks to devour,
but there is a strong rescuing lion, The lioz.
* Levius malum inducit in manus gravioris. DRUs
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD'S PRAYER.
617
of the tribe of Judah, who will deliver. The
God of peace, says the apostle, will bruise
Satan under your feet shortly. Rom. xvi. 20.
He says not, we shall bruise him under our
feet, but God shall do it. Yet, he says not,
he shall bruise him under his own feet, but
under yours : the victory shall be ours, though
Wrought by him. And he shall do it shortly:
Wait a while, and it shall be done. And the
God of peace, because he is the God of peace,
he shall subdue that grand disturber of your
peace, and shall give you a perfect victory,
and, after it, endless peace: he shall free you
of his trouble and molestation. Grace is a
Stranger here, and therefore hardly used, and
hated by many foes; but there is a promise
of a new heaven and a new earth where dwells
fighteousness : there it shall be at home and
in quiet ; no spoiling nor robbery in all that
holy mountain.
For thine is the kingdom, the power, and
the #". for ever and ever. Amen.
This pattern, we know, is the line under
which all our prayers ought to move: all our
requests are to be conformed to it, and are
certainly out of their way, when they decline
and wander from it. And if we observe it,
we may clearly perceive it is a circular line (as,
indeed, the exercise of prayer is a heavenly
motion, circular as that of the heavens); it
begins and ends in the same point, the glory
of that God to whom we pray, and who is the
God that heareth prayer. In that point this
prayer begins, and here ends in it; so that
Our requests which concern ourselves are cast
in the middle, that all our desires may move
within this circle:—though the things we
pray for concern ourselves, yet, they are not
to terminate in ourselves, but in him who is
Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End
of all things. e are to desire, not only the
blessings of this life, but the blessedness of
the life to come, more for his glory than for
Our own good.
This is genuine and pure love to God, in
the pardon of our sins and salvation, to rejoice
more in the glory of Divine mercy, than in
our own personal happiness. Thus it shall
be with us, when we shall be put in posses-
sion of it, and we ought to aspire to that
measure of the same mind which can be at-
tained here, while we are in the desire and
hope of it.
For thine is the kingdom.] Though this
clause is left out in divers translations, and
wanting in some Greek copies, yet it is so
agreeable to the nature of prayer, and to the
perfection of this prayer, that we ought not
to let it pass unconsidered.
There is in it an enforcement of our prayer;
but especially, it is a return of praise. Good
reason we should desire earnestly the Sancti-
fying of thy name, and the coming of thy
kingdom, and obedience to thy will, seeing
these are so peculiarly due to thee, namely,
kingdom, and power, and glory. And seeing
thou art so great and rich a king, may we not
crave with confidence at thy hands all need-
ful good things to be bestowed on us, and
that all evil may be averted from us; that we
may find thee gracious to us, both in giving
and forgiving; and as inforgiving us the guilti-
ness of sins, so, in freeing us from the power
of sin, and preserving us from the power of
our spiritual enemies that would draw us in-
to sin 2 We are under thy royal protection,
we are thy subjects, yea, thy children, thou
art our king and Father ; so that thy honor
is engaged for our defence. Whatsoever sum
our debts amount to, they are not too great
for such a King to forgive ; they can not rise
above thy royal goodness, and whatsoever be
our enemies, all their force is not above thy
sceptre; though they be strong, too strong
for us, yet, thou art much too strong for them,
for power is thine. And this we know, that
all the good thou dost us will bring back
glory to thy name, and it is that we most
desire, and that which is thy due ; the glory
is thine.
Thus we see all our grounds of argument
for our requests are in God, none of them in
ourselves: as we find this in the prayers of
the prophets, For thine own glory, and for
thine own name’s sake. There is nothing in
ourselves to move God by, but abundance of
misery : and that moves not, but by reason
of his bounty; so still, the cause of his hear-
ing, and the argument of our entreating, are
in himself alone. Were it not thus, how
could we hope to prevail with him 2 Yea,
how durst we offer to come unto him? It is
well for us, there is enough in himself doth
to encourage us to come, and to furnish us
with motives to persuade him by, that we
come not in vain. Moses had not a word to
say for the people in themselves: such was
their carriage, his mouth was stopped that
way; yet, he doth not let go this, what wilt
thou do with thy mighty name # It is true,
they have trespassed, yet, if thou destroy
them, thy name will suffer. Lord, consider
and regard that. And we know the success
of it. Thus, a Christian for himself may
plead: “Lord, I am most unworthy of all those
things I request of thee, but, whatsoever I am,
thou art a liberal and mighty king, and it is
thy glory to do good freely; therefore it is that
I come unto thee: my necessities drive me to
thee, and thy goodness draws me, and the
poorer and wretcheder, I am, the greater will
be thy glory in helping me.”
But it is withal, an extolling and praising
of the greatness of God, and so we are to
consider it.
Thine is the kingdom. Other kings and
kingdoms there be, but they are as nothing,
they deserve not the naming, in comparison
of thine. They are but kings of little mole-
hills, to the bounds of thy dominion. The
greatest kingdoms of the world are but small
parcels, of this globe of earth, and itself al-
together, to the vast circumference of the
heavens, is as nothing — loses all sensible
78
618
EXPOSITION OF THE LORD’S PRAYER.
greatness. This point which men are so busy
dividing among them with fire and sword,
what if one man had the sovereignty of it
all ? He and kingdom both were nothing to
thine; for sea and land, earth and heaven,
and all the creatures in them all, the whole,
all is thine. Thou art Lord of heaven and
earth, and therefore, the kingdom is thine.
As all other kingdoms are less than thine,
so, they hold of thine, thine is supreme ; all
the crowns and sceptres of the earth hang at
thy footstool. All kings owe their homage
to this great King, and he disposeth of their
crowns absolutely and uncontrolled as he
will. He enthrones and dethrones at his
pleasure, throws down one and sets up an-
other ; as we have a great monarch confes-
sing it at length upon his own experience,
being brought down from his throne, on pur-
pose to learn this lesson, and was seven years
in learning it. Dan. iv. 34.
The power. The creatures have among
them several degrees and several kinds of
power, but none of them, nor all of them to-
gether, have all power; this is God's. He
is all-powerful in himself, primitively power-
ful. And all the power of the creatures is
derived from him: he is the fountain of pow-
er. So that, whatsoever power he hath given
unto men, or any other creature, he hath not
given away from himself: it is still in him-
self more than in them, and at his pleasure
he can call it back, and withdraw the influ-
ence of it, and then they remain weak and
powerless. And when he gives them power,
he useth and disposeth of both them and their
power as seems him good. Therefore, his
style is The Lord of Hosts. He can com-
mand more armies than all the kings and
rinces of the earth : from the most excel-
ent, to the meanest of the creatures, all are
his trained bands; from the host of glorious
spirits, to the very armies of grasshoppers
and flies. And you know, that as an angel
was employed against the Egyptians, so
likewise these contemptible creatures were
upon service there too, and being armed with
commission and with power from God, did
perform the service upon which they were
sent so effectually, that the wisest of heathens
were forced to confess, This is the finger of God.
This is the Lord to whom we address our
prayers, who can not fail in anything for
want of power, for He doeth what he will in
heaven and in earth.
The glory. In these two consists mainly
the eminency of kings, in their power and
their majesty ; but they exceed not the
meanest of their subjects, so far as THIS King
surpasseth the greatest of them in both ;
Psalm xciii. 1; Clothed with both majesty
and strength. They are often resisted, and
cut short of their designs for want of suffi-
cient power, and are (the best of them) often
driven to straits; sometimes men, sometimes
money or munition, or some other necessary
help is wanting, and so their enterprises fall
behind. But this King can challenge and
defy all oppositions; I work, says he, and
who shall let it 8 Isa. xliii. 13.
And as their power, so, their majesty and
glory is infinitely short of his. He is the
King of glory, as the psalmist styles him,
Psalm xxiv. 10, alone truly glorious, both in
the excellency of his own nature and the ex-
trinsical glory that arises to him out of his
works. Of the former, we can know but
little here, for that light wherein he dwells
is to us inaccessible (1 Tim. Vi. 16); but this
we know, that he is infinitely above all the
praises even of those that do behold him.
Likewise, how unspeakable is that glory
which shines in his works, in the framing
of the whole world, and in the upholding
and ruling of it from the beginning ! In
which appear the two former that are here
ascribed to him, His kingdom and his power ;
and so, this third, His glory, springs out of
both. Then if we consider the glorious at-
tendance that is continually about his throne,
as the Scriptures describe it to us, it drowns
all the pomp of earthly thrones and courts in
their highest degree. See Rev. iv.
For ever. This kingdom, and power, and
glory of God, besides their transcendent
greatness, have this advantage beyond all
other kingdoms, and power, and glory, that
his are for ever and ever, all other are per-
ishing, nothing but pageants and shows that
appear for awhile, and pass along and van-
ish. It was a wise word of a king (espe-
cially at such a time), when he was riding in
a stately triumph, and asked by one of his
courtiers, thinking to please him, What is
wanting here ? he answered Continuance.
Where are all the magnific kings that have
reigned in former ages 2 Where is their
power and their pomp 2 Is it not past like a
dream 2 And not only are the kings gone,
but the kingdoms themselves, the greatest in
the world, have fallen to nothing; they had
their time of rising, and again of declining,
and are buried in the dust. That golden-
headed image had brittle feet, and that was
the ruin and break of it all. But this king-
dom of the Most High is an everlasting king-
dom, and his glory and power abide for ever.
Not only things on earth decay, but the
very heavens war old as a garment, says the
psalmist, but thou, O Lord, art still the same,
and thy years have no end. tº
Refl. 1. It is a thing of very great impor-
tance, for us to have our hearts established in
the belief of these things, and to be frequent
in remembering and considering them: to
know that the kingdom is the Lord's, that he
sovereignly rules the world and all things
in it, and particularly the great affairs of his
church : that he is the mighty God, and
therefore, that there is no power, or wisdom,
or counsel of men, able to prevail against
him ; and that in those things wherein his
glory seems to suffer for the present, it shall
gain and be advanced in the close.
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
619
2. Let us always, and in all things, return |
this to him as his peculiar due: Thine is the
glory ; it belongs to thee, and to none other.
Deo qua Dei sunt : To God the things which
are God's.
3. Let us think most reverently of God.
Oh, that we could attain to esteeming
thoughts of him, to think more of his great-
ness and excellency beyond all the world !
It is our great folly to admire anything but
God. This is because we are ignorant of
him. Certainly, he knows not God, who
thinks anything great beside him.
Amen.] In this word concentre all the
requests, and are put up together: so be it.
And, there is in it withal, as all observe, a
profession of confidence that it shall be so.
It is from one root with those words which
signify believing and truth. The truth of
God's promising, persuades belief; and it
persuades to hope for a gracious answer of
prayer.
And this is the excellent advantage of
the prayer of faith, that it quiets and estab-
lishes the heart in God. Whatsoever be its
estate and desire, when once the believer
hath put his petition into God's hand, he rests
content in holy security and assurance con-
cerning the answer; refers it to the wisdom
and love of God, how and when he will an-
SWer; not doubting that whatsoever it be, and
whensoever, it shall both be gracious and
seasonable. But the reason why so few of us
find that sweetness and comfort that are in
prayer, is, because the true nature and use
of it is so little known.
EXP 0 S IT I 0N 0 F THE TEN COMMAND MENTS,
*-*
ExoDUs xx. 1, 2.
And God spake all these words, saying,
I am the LoRD thy God, which have brought thee
out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bon-
dage.
IT is the character of the blessed man, and
the way of blessedness, to delight in the law
of God. Psalm i. 2. And because the eye is
often upon that whereon the affection and de-
light of the heart is set, the sign of that de-
light in the law, is, to have the eye of the
mind much upon it, to meditate on it day and
night. And that we may know this is not, as
the study of many things are, empty specula-
tion and fruitless, barren delight, we are fur-
ther taught that the soul that is fixed in this
delight and meditation, is a tree well planted,
and answerably fruitful. The mind that is
set upon this law, is fitly set for bearing fruit.
Planted by the rivers of waters ; and is re-
ally fruitful, Bringing forth its fruit in its
S626. SO72.
If this holds true of the law in the largest
sense, taken for the whole will of God re-
vealed in his word, it is, no doubt, particular-
ly verified in that which more particularly
bears the name of the law , this same sum-
mary of the rule of man's life delivered by
the Lord himself, after so singular a manner
both by word and writ.
So, then, the explication of it being need-
ful for the ignorant, it will be likewise profita-
bly delightful for those who be most knowing
and best acquainted with it. It is a rich mine,
that we can never dig to the bottom of . He is
called the blessed man, who is still digging
and seeking further into the riches of it, medi-
tating on it day and night : his work going
forward in the night, when others cease from
working.
We have in the creed, the object of faith,
in the law, the sacrifice and trial of love : for
Love is the fulfilling of the law; and, If ye
love me, keep my commandments, saith our
Savior. And prayer is the breathing of hope,
or, as they call it, Interpretatio spei. Thus,
in these three summaries, are the matter of
these three prime theological virtues, faith,
hope, and charity.
The law rightly understood, addresses us
to the articles of our faith: for seeing the dis-
proportion of our best obedience to the exact-
mess of the law, this drives us to seek salva-
tion in the gospel by believing ; and our nat-
ural inability to believe, drives us to prayer,
that we may obtain faith, and perseverance
in it, at his hands who is both the first Author
and the Finisher of our faith.
The preparation enjoined upon the people,
teacheth the holiness of the law. The fire,
and thunder, and lightning, and, upon these,
the fear of the people, testify the greatness
and majesty of the Lawgiver, and withal, his
power to punish the transgressors of it, and
his justice that will punish; that as he showed
his presence by fire seen in delivering this
law, so he is (as the apostle teacheth us, allu-
ding to this), a consuming fire to them who
neglect and disobey it. The limits set about
the mount, that they might not approach it,
even after all their endeavor of sanctifying
and preparing, read [1] humility to us, teach-
ing us our great distance from the holiness
of our God, even when we are most holy and
exact in our preparations; and [2] sobriety
[ppověw its rô coppověw], not to pry into hidden
things; to hear what is revealed to us and com-
manded us, and to exercise ourselves in that.
Scrutator majestatis opprimetur à gloria.-
Hidden things belong unto God, but those
620
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTs.
which are revealed to us and to our children,
that we may do all the words of this law. Deut.
xxix. 29.
Lastly, we are taught, that the law of it-
self is the ministration # death, and hath
nothing but terror in it, till the Messiah, the
Mediator appear, and the soul, by his perfect
obedience, be accounted obedient to the law.
But we must not insist on this now.
The preface is twofold. I. That of Moses.
II. That of God himself.
I. God spake all these words. Ten words.
Exod. xxxiv. 28 ; Deut. v. 22. He added no
more. Hence we may learn, (1.) The per-
fection of this law, that no more was needful
to be added. (2.) The excellency of it, being
so short, and yet so perfect. For as it is the
excellency of all speech, as of coin (as Plutarch
hath it), to contain much in little, most value
in smallest quantity ; so, especially of laws,
that they be brief and full.
That we may the better conceive of the
perfection of this law, we must not forget
those rules which divines give for the under-
standing of it in its due latitude. (1.) That
the prohibitions of sin contain the commands
of the contrary good; otherwise, the number
of precepts would have been too great. And,
on the contrary, (2.) Under the name of any
one sin, all homogeneous sins, or sins of that
kind, are forbidden. (3.) All the inducements
and occasions of sin, things that come near a
breach, are to be avoided: that which the rab-
bins call the hedge of the law, is not to be
broken. They who do always all that they
lawfully may, will sometimes do more. (4.)
It is spiritual, hath that prerogative above all
human laws, that it reaches the heart and all
the motions of it, as well as words and ac-
tions. This Supreme Lawgiver alone can
See the behavior of the heart, and alone is
able to punish all who offend so much as in
thought. It were a vain thing, for men to
give laws to any, more than what they can
require account of and correct, which is only
the surface and outside of human actions.
But he who made the heart, doth not only
give his law to it, but to it principally, and
examines all actions there in their source and
beginning ; and therefore, oftentimes, that
which men applaud and reward, and do well
in so doing, he justly hates and punishes.
God spake. All that was spoken by his
messengers the prophets, with warrant from
him, was his wordſ; they but the trumpets
which the breath of his mouth, his Spirit,
made to sound as it pleased him; but this his
moral law, he privileged with his own im-
mediate delivery. Men may give some few
rules for society and civil life, by the dark
light that remains in natural consciences; but
such a rule as may direct a man to answer
his natural end, and lead him to God, must
come from God himself. All the purest and
wisest laws that men have compiled, can not
reach that: they can go no higher in their
course, than they are in their spring. That
which is from the earth is earthly, saith our
Savior.
He added to this speaking, the writing of
them likewise, himself, in tables of stone,
that they might abide, and be conveyed to
after ages. At first they were written in the
heart of man, by God’s own hand; but, as the
first tables of stone fell and were broken, so
was it with man’s heart: by his fall his heart
was broken, and scattered among the earthly
perishing things which was before whole and
entire to his Maker; and so, the characters
of that law written in it, were so shivered
and scattered, that they could not be perfect-
ly and distinctly read in it. Therefore it
pleased God to renew that law after this
manner, by a most solemn delivery with au-
dible voice, and then by writing it on tables
of stone. And this is not all, but this same
law he doth write anew in the hearts of his
children.
Why it pleased him to defer this solemn
promulgation of the law to this time, and at
this time to give it to a select people only,
these are arcana imperii—state secrets, in-
deed, which we are not to search into, but to
magnify his goodness to us, that he hath
showed us the path of life, revealing to us
both the precepts of the law, and the grace
and promises of the gospel.
It was the All-wise God who spake all
these words; therefore he knew well his own
aim and purpose in them, and doth certainly
attain it.
It was not, indeed, that this law might be
the adequate and complete means of man’s
happiness, that by perfect obedience to it he
might be saved ; for the law is weak for this,
not in itself, but through the flesh. Rom. vii.
3. It is altogether impossible for it alone to
save us, because impossible for us to fulfil it.
But it doth profit us much if we look aright
upon it.
1. It discovers us to ourselves, and so hum-
bles us, frees us from the pride that is so nat-
ural to us in the midst of our great poverty
and wretchedness. For when we see how
pure the law is, and we, compared with it, to
be all filthiness and defilement, our best righ-
teousness, as Isaiah says, as filthy rags; this
causeth us to abhor ourselves. Wij nat-
urally, we are abused with self-love, and self-
flattery arising from it. The point of the law
(as they in the Acts were said to be pricked
in their hearts) pricks the heart, which is
swelled and puffed with pride, and makes it
fall low in sense and vileness. º
2. As this discovery humbles us in our-
selves, so it drives us out of ourselves. This
glass showing us our pollution, sends us to
the fountain opened. When we perceive
that, by the sentence of the law, there is
nothing for us but death, this makes us heark-
en diligently to the news of redemption and
pardon proclaimed in the gospel, and hastens
us to the Mediator of the new covenant. As
the spouse was then singularly rejoiced to
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
621
find her Beloved, when she had been beaten
and hardly used by reproaching (Cant. v. 7),
so the soul is then gladdest to meet with
Christ, when it is hardest buffeted with the
terrors and threatenings of the law. His
promise of ease and refreshment sounds sweet
after the thunderings and lightnings of Mount
Sinai. A man will never go to Christ, so long
as he is not convinced of misery without him,
of impotency in himself, and in all others to
help him.
3. It restrains the wickedness even of un-
godly men. The brightness of it makes them
Sometimes ashamed of those works of dark-
ness which otherwise they would commit
without check; and the terrors of it affright
them sometimes from that which they would
otherwise commit without shame.
4. But chiefly it serves for a rule and square
of life to the godly; a light to their feet, as
David says, and a lantern to their paths. Ei-
ther they have no rule of life (which is im-
pious and unreasonable to think), or this is
it. Christ came not to dissolve it, but to ac-
complish and establish it ; and he did careful-
ly free it from the injurious glosses of the
Pharisees, and taught the right sense and
force of it. See Matt. v. He obeyed it both
in doing and in suffering ; both performing
what it requires, and, in our stead, undergo-
ing what it pronounces against those who
perform it not. It is a promise chiefly intend-
ed for the days of the gospel, as the apostle
applies it, I will write my law in their hearts.
It is a weak conceit arising upon the mis-
take of the Scriptures, to make Christ and
Moses as opposites. No, Moses was the ser-
vant in the house, and Christ, the Son ; and
being a faithful servant, he is not contrary to
the Son, but subordinate to him. Heb. iii. 5.
The very abolishment of the ceremonial law,
was not as of a thing contrary, but as a thing
accomplished in Christ, and so was an hon-
orable abolishment. And the removing of
the curse and rigor of the moral law from us,
was without wrong to it, being satisfied in a
better for us, our surety, Jesus Christ.
They are happy, who look so on the law
of God, as to be made sensible of misery by
it, and by that made earnest in their desires
of Christ; and who judge themselves, the
more evidence they have of freedom from
the curse of the law, to be not the less, but
so much the more obliged to obey the law ;
who are still making progress and going on
in that way of obedience, though it be with
continual halting, and often stumbling, and
sometimes falling ; yet they shall certainly
attain their journey's end, that perfection
whereof they are so desirous.
This were the way to lowliness, not to
compare ourselves with others, in which too
many are often partial judges, but with this
holy law. We use not to try the evenness of
things with our crooked stick, but by the
straightest rule that we can find. Thus St.
Paul: The law is spiritual, I am carnal. Rom.
vii. 14. He looks not how much he was more
spiritual than other men, but how much less
spiritual than the law.
II. I am the Lord thy God..] ... That is the
truest and most constant obedience, which
flows jointly from reverence and love: these
two are the very wheels upon which obedi-
ence moves. And these first words of the
law are most fit and powerful to work these
two ; Jehovah—sovereign Lord, to be feared
and reverenced—thy God ; and then, Who
have brought thee out, &c., who hath wrought
such a deliverance for thee. Therefore, in
both these respects, most worthy of the high-
est love.
This preface can not stand for a command-
ment, as some would have it; for expressly
it commands nothing, though by inference it
enforceth all the commandments, and is in-
deed so intended. Though it may be con-
ceived to have a particular tie with the first
commandment, which follows it immediate-
ly, yet certainly it is withal a most fit preface
to them all, and hath a persuasive influence
into them all ; commanding attention and obe-
dience, not in the low way of human rhetoric,
but stylo imperatorio, in a kingly phrase, be-
coming the majesty of the King of kings—I
am Jehovah.
Here we have three motives to obedience:
1. His universal sovereignty, Jehovah. 2. His
particular relation to his own people, Thy
God. 3. The late singular mercy bestowed
on them, Who have brought thee out of the
land of Egypt. Each of them sufficient, and
therefore altogether most strongly concluding
for obedience to his commandments.
1. Jehovah. Not to insist on the ample
consideration of this name of God, of which
divines, both Jewish and Christian, have said
so much, some more cabalistically and curi-
ously, others more soberly and solidly ; this
they agree in, that it is the incommunicable
name of the Divine Majesty, and signifies the
primitiveness of his being, and his eternity;
that his being is not derived, but is in and
from himself; and that all other being is from
him ; that he is from everlasting to everlast-
ing in himself, without any difference of time,
but, as eternity is expressed to our conceiving,
He who is, and who was, and who is to come,
ALPHA and OMEGA.
Now, it is most reasonable, that seeing all
things, mankind, and all the creatures that
serve for his good, receive their being from
him, we should likewise receive laws from
him.
His majesty is alone absolute and indepen-
dent: all the powers of the world, the great-
est princes and kings, hold their crowns of
him, are his vassals, and owe obedience to
his laws, as much as their meanest subjects,
that I say not more, in regard to the particu-
lar obligation which their honor and emi-
nency given them by him doth lay upon
them.
Jehovah. What are the numerous styles
622
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
wherein princes delight and glory so much,
but a vain noise of nothing in comparison of
his name, I AM 2 And in all their grandeur,
they are low, petty majesties, when mention
is made of this Jehovah, who stretched forth
the heavens, and laid the foundations of the
earth, and formed the spirit of man within
him 2 Zech. xii. 1. What gives a man, when
he gives all the obedience he can, and gives
himself in obedience to God 2 What gives he
him, but what he hath first received from
him, and therefore owes it all, as soon as he
begins to be 2
This authority of the Lawgiver, is the very
life of the law. It is that we so readily for-
get, and this is the cause of all disobedience,
and therefore the Lord inculcates it often,
Lev. xix., I am the Lord, ver, 3; and again
repeated, ver. 37.
This is the apostle St. James's argument,
by which he strongly proves his conclusion.
That he that transgresseth in one, is guilty
of all. He urges not the concatemation of
virtues in themselves—though there is truth
and force in that: he that hath one hath all,
and so he that wants any one hath none:–
but the sameness of the authority is his me-
dium ; For he who said, Thou shalt not com-
mit adultery, said also, Thou shalt not kill.
Jam. ii. The authority is the same, and equal
in all. The golden thread on which these
pearls are stringed, if it be broken in any one
part, it scatters them all. This name of God
signifying his authority, keeps the whole
frame of the law together, and if that be stir-
red, it falls all asunder.
2. Thy God. Necessity is a strong but a
hard argument, if it go alone. The sovereignty
of God ties all, either to obey his law, or to
undergo the punishment. But love is both
strong and sweet. Where there sounds love
in the command, and in the relation of the
commander, there it is received and cheer-
fully obeyed by love. Thus then, thy God,
in covenant with thee, can not but move thee.
We see, then, the gospel interwoven with
the law, in thy God, often repeated, which is
by the new covenant, and that by a mediator.
God expects obedience from his peculiar
people. It is their glory and happiness, that
they are his. It adds nothing to him, but
much every way to them. He is pleased to
take it as glory done to him, to take him to
be our God; and doth really exalt and honor
those that do so, with the title and privileges
of his people. If his own children break his
law, he can not but take that worse.
3. Who brought thee out of the land of
Egypt.]... By the remembrance of their late
great deliverance, he mollifies their hearts to
receive the impression of this law.
Herein was the peculiar obligation of this
people. But ours, typified by this, is not less,
but unspeakably greater; deliverance from
the cruel servitude of sin, and the prince of
darkness. From these we are delivered, not
to licentiousness and libertinism, but to true
liberty, John viii. 36. If the Son make you
free, you shall be free indeed. Luke i. 74.
Delivered from the power of our enemies—
To what end ?–to serve him without fear,
that terror which we should be subject to, if
we were not delivered ; and, to serve him all
the days of our lives. And that all, if many
hundred times longer than it is, yet were too
little for him. It is not such a servitude as
that of Egypt, from which we are delivered:
that ended to each one with his life; but the
misery from which we are redeemed, begins
but in the fulness of it when life ends, and
endures for ever.
The gospel sets not men free to profane-
ness: no, it is a doctrine of holiness, We are
not called to uncleanness, but to holiness, saith
the apostle. 1 Thess. iv. 7. He hath indeed
taken off the hardness, the iron yoke, and
now his commandments are not grievous. 1
John v. 3. His yoke is easy, and his burden
light. And they who are most sensible, and
have most assurance of their deliverance, are
ever the most active and fruitful in obedience :
they feel themselves light and nimble, having
the heavy chains and ſetters taken off. Psalm
cxvi. 16. Lord, I am thy servant : thou hast
loosened my bonds. And the comfortable
persuasion of their redemption, is that oil of
gladness which supples and disposes them to
run the way of God’s commandments.
PRECEPT I.
Thou shalt have no other Gods but ME.
THE first thing in religion is, to state the
object of it right, and to acknowledge and
receive it for such. This, I confess, is the
intent of this first precept of the law, which
is therefore the basis and foundation that
hears the weight of all the rest. And there-
fore, as we said before, though the preface
looks to them all, yet it looks first to this
which is nearest it, and is knit with it, and
through it to all the rest. The preface assert-
ed God’s authority as the strength of his law,
and this first precept commands the acknowl-
edgment and embracing of that his authority,
and his alone, as God. And this is the spring
of our obedience to all his commandments.
But before a particular explication of this,
a word, first, of the division of this law;
secondly, of the style of it. 1. As to its divis-
ion. That they were divided, first, into two
tables, and then into ten words or command-
ments, none can question. We have the law-
giver's own testimony clear for that. But
about the particular way of dividing them
into ten, and the matching of these two divis-
ions together, there hath been, and still is,
some difference. But this I will not insist on.
Though Josephus, and Philo the Jew, would
(to make the number equal) have five precepts
in each table, yet, the matter of them is more
to be regarded, and persuades the contrary;
that those which concern piety, our duty to
God, be in the first table, and those together
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
623
in the second, which concern equity, or our
duty to man. And the summary which our
Savior gives of the two tables, is evidently in
favor of this. And that those precepts of
piety, those of the first table, are four, and
they of the second, sia, and so, that the first
and the second, as we have them, are different,
and make two, and the tenth but one, hath
the voice both of antiquity and reason ; as
many divines on the decalogue do usually
evince at large, which, therefore, were as
easy as it is needless to do over again. The
creed of the Romish church to the contrary,
is plainly impudent presumption and partiali-
ty, choosing rather to blot out the law, than
reform their manifest breach of it.
2. What I would say of the style of the
commandments, is but in this one particular,
briefly : We see the greatest part of them
are prohibitive, or, as we usually call them,
though somewhat improperly, negative. Thou
shalt not, &c. This, as is observed by Calvin
and others, intimates our natural bent and in-
clinement to sin, that it suffices not to show
us what ought to be done, but we are to be
held and bridled by countermands from the
practices of ungodliness and unrighteousness.
Thou shalt not have, &c.] This order here
—and so in the rest : I. The scope. II. The
sense of the words. III. What it forbids.
IV. What it commands. And these follow
each upon the other; for out of the scope, the
sense is best gathered, and from that, the
breach, and the observation.
I. The scope. As the second command-
ment concerns the solemn form of Divine
worship, that it be not such as we devise,
but such as himself appoints; the third, the
qualification or manner of it, not vainly and
profanely, but with holy reverence; the fourth,
the solemn time set apart for it, the sabbath ;
So, this first precept aims at somewhat which
is previous to all these.
Many distinguish this and the second, per
cultum internum et externum, by the internal
and eaternal worship ; and a grave modern
divine, espying some defect in that, doth it,
per cullum naturalem et institutum, by natural
and instituted worship. But I confess, both
omit, at least they express not (it may be, they
take it as implied), that which is mainly in-
tended, the object of worship; that that Jeho-
vah who gave and himself spake this law, be
received and acknowledged for the only true
God, and so, the only object of Divine worship.
And this is that which he calls Cultus natu-
ralis, natural worship, that primitive worship,
the religious habitude of man to God, giving
himself entire, outward and inward, to his
service and obedience; for this is no other
than to own him, and him only, for that Deity
to whom all love, and worship, and praise,
are due.
It is surely not so convenient to restrain
this precept to inward worship only, for each
precept binds the whole man to obedience;
and therefore I would not give the first mo-
tions of concupiscence in general, for the
sense of the tenth commandment, as we shall
show when we come to speak of that. Cer-
tainly, even outward worship given to a false
God, breaks this first commandment.
The scone, then, is briefly, that the ONLY
TRUE GoD be alone acknowledged for what he
is, and, as we are able, with all our powers and
parts, inwardly and outwardly, that he be an-
swerably adored; that we neither change him
for any other, nor join any other with him, nor
be neglective and slack in honoring and obey-
ing him. So that, as we are particularly, by
each several precept, instructed in, and ob-
liged to, the particular duties of it, by this
we are generally tied to give obedience to
them all. It is no way inconvenient, but
most fit in this general notion, that this first
commandment import the observance of itself,
and of all the rest.
II. The sense of the words, Non habebis,
Heb. Non erunt tibi, &c.
1. Erit tibi, Deus, Thou shalt have a God.
Know and believe that there is a Deity. 2.
Seek to know which is the true God, that thou
mayest acknowledge him. 3. Know me as I
have revealed myself in my word. Know
and believe that I, Jehovah, the Author and
Deliverer of this law, that I am God, and
there is none else. Isa. xliv. 8, 4. Offer not,
therefore, either to forsake me, or to join any
other with me. Alienate no part of my due
from me, for my glory I will not give unto
another. 5. Take me for thy God; and give
service and honor, and thyself unto me.
Before my face..] Set them not up in my
sight, for I can not suffer them, nor their
worshippers. If they come in my sight, they
will provoke me to anger. The word here
for face, sometimes signifies anger, in Scrip-
ture ; and it seems to allude to God's clear
manifestation of himself to his people in the
delivery of the law, and further to clear the
doctrine of pure and true religion shining in
the law, which is, as it were, the light of the
face of God. In which regard, the nations
who knew him not, may be said not to have
had their gods before his face; for though he
saw them, they saw not him. .
Again; Before my face, is as if he should
say, If thine idolatry be never so secret, though
it were but in heart, remember that it will be
in my sight. Thou canst not steal away any
of my glory to bestow anywhere else, so cun-
ningly and secretly, but I shall espy thee. If
thou canst have any other gods that I can not
know of and see not, thou mayest; but if thou
canst have none but I shall see them, then
beware, for if I see it, I will punish it.
III. Breaches or sins against this command-
ment. We can not particularly name all, but
some main ones. e
1. That inbred enmity, that habitual re-
bellion which is in our natures against God :
ovuºvis #360a, that connatural enemy, that takes
life with us as soon as ourselves in the womb,
—Tö ppävnpa ris capkös, the minding of the flesh.
624
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
Rom. viii. 6. And the evidence of that, is, or
irorággerat. It can not be ordered, is ever
breaking rank. Some even of those who
bestow mourning upon sin, yet, do not often
enough consider the bitter fountain, and be-
wail it. The wisest way to know things, is,
following them home to their causes. Thus
David, Psalm li. 5. Behold I was shapen in
wickedness, and in sin hath my mother con-
ceived me.
2. Atheism. Though there is in the con-
sciences of all men an indelible conviction of
a Deity, so that there have been few of those
monsters found, professed atheists, yet, there
is in us all, naturally, this of atheism, that by
nature we would willingly be rid of that light,
and quench that sparkle if we could. And
all ungodly men do live contrary to it, and
fight against it.
3. The gross idolatry of the heathens ; their
Toxv0sorils, making gods of beasts, almost of
everything and beasts of themselves. Nullus
enim terminus in falso. The writers of the
primitive church have mightily and learnedly
confuted them : but we will not stir this dung-
hill. The Scripture calls idols so : Hillu-
lim.
4. Witchcraft, necromancy, and magical
arts, which make a god of the devil.
5. Rome's invocation of saints and angels.
Though they take never, so much pains to
clear it, they do but wash the blot more. Thus
in the same matter, Jer. ii. 22: Though thou
take thee nitre and much sope, yet, thine ini-
quity is marked before me, saith the Lord.
All their apologies take it not away, let them
refine it never so much with pamphlets and
distinctions; all they attain by spinning it so
fine, is but to make it a part of the mystery
of iniquity.
6. Erroneous opinions concerning God, and,
generally, heresies in religion.
7. Practical or interpretative athewsm, or
idolatry, whether of the two you will call it ;
for it is both in the lives of the most, and the
world is full of this ; being such as declares
they have no God, or that this God is but
some base idol in his stead. Particularly,
among ourselves, [1..] Gross ignorance of
God, and no endeavor to attain the knowledge
of him, though in the midst of the light and
means of knowing. [2.] Universal profane-
ness flowing from this ignorance. Hos. iv. 1,
2, 3. The hearts of men, which should be
the temples of God, are full of idols. Though
we hide them in the closest corners, they are
before his face : he sees them, lust, and pride,
and covetousness. See Ezek. viii. Consider,
that which you bestow most thoughts and
service on, that which you are most affec-
tionate and earnest in, is not that your God 2
And is there not something beside the true
God, that is thus deep in the hearts of the
most of us? Take pains to make the com-
parison; look upon the temper of your minds.
To say nothing of much more time spent upon
other things than on him, how ardent you are
in other affairs which you think concern you
near, and how cold in serving and honoring
him But, though in particular under-gods,
in what serves their honor, they differ, all
men naturally agree in the great idol, self.
Every man is by corrupt nature his own god.
Was not this the first wickedness, which cor-
rupted our nature, Ye shall be as gods 2 And
it sticks to it still. Men would please them-
selves, and have themselves somebody, es-
teemed and honored ; and would have all
serve to this end. Is not this God's right and
due they give themselves, to be the end of all
their own actions, and sacrifice all to their
own glory !
IV. What it commands.
Now, by these we may easily gather the
the contrary, what is the obedience of this
commandment.* It is so to know the true
God, this Jehovah, as to be persuaded sover-
eignly to love, and fear, and trust in him, to
serve and adore him.
He is to be feared, for he is great. Who
would not fear thee, thou king of nations !
Jer. x. 7. To be loved, for he is good. And
because both great and good, only fit to be
wholly relied on and hoped in.
But love is all ; it gives up the heart, and
by that all the rest to the party loved; it is
no more its own. Oh, that we could love
him | Did we see him we should. It is his
uncreated beauty which holds glorified spir-
its still beholding and still delighted. But
we, because we know him not, if we have
any thoughts of him, how short are they !
Presently down again we fall to the earth,
and into the mire ere we are aware. There-
fore,
Set yourselves to know, and love, and wor-
ship this God. Labor that there may be less
of the world, and less of yourselves, and more
of God in your hearts; more settled and fixed
thoughts of him, and delight in him. Think
not that this is only for the learned, or only
for some retired, contemplative spirits that
have nothing else to do. He is the Most
High, and service and honor are due to him
from all his creatures; and, from his reason-
able creatures, reasonable service; and what
this is, hear from the apostle, and let his ex-
hortation, or his entreaty, persuade you to it.
Rom. xii. 1: I beseech you, therefore, breth-
ren, by the mercies of God, that you present
Syour bodies a living sacrifice (and they are
not living without the soul), holy, acceptable
wnto God, which is your reasonable service ;
and your truest obedience to this command-
Iſlent.
* Though the graces are duties properly belonging
to the commandment, some divines think fit to expa-
tiate into the several commonplaces of them, in ex-
plaining this commandment; yet, I think it not so fit
to dwell upon each of these herein; their full hand-
ling rather belonging to that place of divinity which
treats of the head of sanctification and those infused
habits of which it consists.
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
625
PRECEPT II.
Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or
any likeness of anything that is in heaven above,
or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the
water under the earth ! Thou shalt not bow down
thyself to them, nor serve them. For I the Lord
thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of
the fathers upon the children, unto the third and
fourth generation of them that hate me, and show-
ing mercy unto thousands of them that love me,
and keep my commandments.
THE first commandment binds us to ac-
knowledge and worship the true God ; this,
to the true worship of that God.
As God is not known but by his own teach-
ing and revealing himself, so he can not be
rightly worshipped but by his own prescrip-
tion and appointment. This is the aim of
this second commandment, to bind up man's
hands, and his working fancy that sets his
hands at work, and to teach him to depend
upon Divine direction for the rule of divine
worship, and to offer him nothing in his ser-
vice, but what he hath received from him in
command. The prohibition is general; Non
facias tibi, Thou shalt not devise anything
to thyself in the worship of God. And under
that gross device of images, and worshipping
them, expressly named, are comprehended all
other inventions and will-worship.
There is in the words, I. The precept.
II. The enforcement of it.
I. The precept. 1. Thou shalt not make.
Thou shalt not imagine, nor invent, nor imi-
tate the invention of others. Thou shalt not
make, nor cause to make. In a word, thou
shalt be no way accessary to the corrupting
of Divine worship, with any resemblance (or
image), or human device at all : the former
is a particular word, signifying the then most
usual kind of imagery ; but the other of a
most large and general sense, is put for all
kinds of similitude and representation. So
that the dispute the church of Rome drives
us into for her interest, in this matter, about
tºokov and Évrov, is not only a mere logomachy,
a debate about words, but altogether imperti-
nent and extravagant, having no ground at
all in the words of the commandment ; the
former whereof is more particular than ei-
ther of these two, and the latter more gen-
eral and comprehensive than either they or
any one word we have to render it by.
Of the things which are in heaven, &c.] Be-
cause the vain mind of man had wandered
up and down the world, and gone through
all these places to find objects of idolatry; in
heaven, the sun, and moon, and stars; on the
earth, not only men, but beasts and creeping
things, and fishes in the water, and made ima-
ges of them to worship ; the Lord is there-
fore particular in his countermand.
2. The second part of the precept is con-
cerning their worship: Thou shalt not bow
down to them, nor serve them.
The former word is more particular, speci-
fying one usual sign or worship, the inclining,
or bowing, of the body. The other, generaſ:
Thou shalt not serve them: i. e., Give them
no kind nor part of religious worship at all,
on whatsoever pretence.
Here again the popish writers make a noise
with that distinction under which they think
to shift the censure of idolatry. Call it what
they will, Aarpevity or 3ovXeiſeiv, surely, it comes
under the word in the original, which signi-
fies religious service or worship. Neither can
they ever find in all the Scriptures, that any-
thing of that kind should be bestowed lower
than upon the majesty of God himself.
This is then the tenor of the command-
ment. [1..] That no image or representation
of God be made at all: as is expressed in
many other scriptures, as giving the sense of
this precept. [2.] Nor that any resemblance
of any creature be made for a religious use.
[3] That neither to any creature, nor to any
resemblance or image, be given any part of
Divine worship, although it were with a pre-
tence, yea, and intention of worshipping the
true God in and by them : which, if it were
a sufficient excuse, as the church of Rome
dreams it is, certainly, the Israelites’ golden
calf, and many other the grossest idols that
have been in the world, might come and find
room to shelter under it.
II. For I the Lord thy God am a jealous
God..] This follows the other part, as the
binding on, or enforcing of the precept by
threatening and promise annexed. Particu-
larly, there be these five things by which
God describes himself here, to persuade obe-
dience to this command: 1. His relation to
his people—Thy God. 2. His power both to
punish and reward—[El..] The strong God.
3. The exact regard he hath to his own glory
and zeal, or jealousy for it—A jealous God.
4. The certainty and severity of his justice,
punishing the transgressors of this his law on
themselves and their posterity—Visiting the
iniquities of the fathers upon the children.
5. The plenty and riches of his goodness to
the obedient-Showing mercy to thousands
of them that love me.
This commandment, and the fourth are
longer than the rest, and more backed with
argument, because the light of nature dis-
cerns less in these than in the rest; viz., the
outward manner of the worship of God, and
God’s exactness in that, to be served not as
we will, but as he himself sees fit, and con-
cerning the time of it.
Of the first argument, from God's relation.
to his people, we heard before in the preface.
Here it is repeated because it suits with the
word that follows, Jealous. 1. Thy God—
thy husband by particular covenant, and
therefore jealous of thy love and fidelity to
Me and my worship. 2. El—able to right
Myself upon the mightiest and proudest of:
fender. Do we provoke the Lord to jealousy %
says the apostlé. Are we stronger than he #
1 Cor. x. 22; there joining these two togeth-
er, as here they are, his strength and his
jealousy. 3. Jealous—he is the Lord and
79
626
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
husband of his people, and idolatry is there-
fore spiritual adultery; as they are often re-
proached with it under that name, by the
prophets, Jer. iii. 1, &c. So that by that sin
particularly, his anger is stirred up against
them. The very contract of this marriage
with his people we have, Exod. xix. 5.
Visiting.—As judges and magistrates use
to visit those places that are under their ju-
risdiction, to make inquiry after abuses com-
mitted in time of their absence, and to pun-
ish them. 1 Sam. vii. 16. Thus, he who is
always everywhere alike present, yet, be-
cause he doth not speedily punish every sin
at the first, therefore when he doth execute
judgment in his appointed time, then is he
said to visit, and search, and find out that in-
iquity which, in his time of forbearance, he
seemed to the ungodly, either not to see, or
not to regard.
The iniquities of the fathers upon the chil-
dren.] It is true, the prophet, correcting the
perverse speech of the people of his time, af.
firms (Ezek. xviii. 20), that the son shall not
bear the iniquity of the father, &c., to wit, he
repenting and returning, and being no way
culpable of the like iniquity, which the peo-
ple then falsely presumed of themselves. But
neither is it here said, that the godly children
shall suffer for the sin of their ungodly pa-
rents or ancestors; but, because the sin of
idolary, or false worship in any kind, doth
as commonly and readily descend to posterity
as any other, and there is scarcely any plea
for false religion that takes more than, It was
the religion of our forefathers, this kind of
threatening may possibly for that cause be
here particularly suitable.
But surely that is not all that is here in-
tended, that if the children do continue in the
sin of the parents, they shall be punished;
but, that for so high a transgression as this,
he may justly, and often doth in judgment,
give the children over to the sins of their pa-
rents. His grace being free, and so, not being
bound to his creature to furnish grace but
where he will, they go on in the sin of their
fathers, and bring upon themselves further
punishment, not only temporal, but spirit-
ual and eternal. It is not necessary for its
yerifying, that it be always so; for God, we
know, hath converted many children of un-
godly, yea, particularly, of idolatrous parents,
and showed them mercy; but in that he just-
ly may do thus, it is a just threatening, and
that he often doth thus, it is a true threaten-
ing, although in mercy he deal otherwise
where it pleaseth him.
That hate me..] What! this is so harsh a
word, that nobody will own it; not the most
dissolute and º, not the grossest idola-
ters. Yet, generally, the love of sin witnes-
ses against men possessed with it, that they
are 9eogrwysis, haters of God. And particu-
larly the love of idols and false worship,
alienates the soul from God, and turns it to
enmity against him. Men seem, possibly,
to themselves, in false worship, humble and
devout (Col. ii. 18); but it is to hate and dis-
honor the Divine majesty, to bring to him and
force upon him, as it were in his own pres-
ence, in his immediate service, that which is
most hateful to him.
Showing mercy to thousands.]. Blessing
them and their posterity, being their God, and
the God of their seed. Of them that love me
and keep my commandments. Who therefore
obey me, because they love me, and testify
they love me, by obeying me. This is a
general truth, in regard of all the command-
ments, though more particularly to be applied
to this to which it is annexed. This com-
mandment forbids, 1. The making of any
image or resemblance of God at all. Deut. iv.
15. Ye saw no manner of similitude, says
Moses, on the day that the Lord spake unto
you in Horeb. So, Isa. xl. 25. To whom
will ye liken Me 2 tº -
2. The giving of any kind of religious hon-
or and worship to any creature or created re-
semblance. Job xxxi. 27. Psalm crºw. The
reason why men are so prone to both these,
is, because they are so much addicted to
sense, and their minds are so blinded, that
they can not conceive of the spiritual nature
of God. Therefore, being driven by con-
science to some kind of worship and religion,
they incline to have some visible object of
it: the soul having lost its sight, leans upon
the body, would make it up, and supply it
by the eye of sense.
3. All superstition and will-worship, all self-
pleasing ceremonies and inventions in the
service of God. How pompous, and plausi-
ble, and devout soever they seem to be, in-
stead of decoring, they do indeed deface the
native beauty of Divine worship; and, as
popish pictures on glass windows, they may
seem rich and gay, but they darken the house;
they keep out the light of saving truth, and
obscure the spiritual part of the service of
God.
4. All gross, material conceits, and appre-
hensions of God. Other particulars of pro-
hibition may be reduced to this command ;
for this and the rest mame but the main of-
fences and duties.
Then it commands, --
1. To learn, and carefully, and punctually
to observe the prescription of God in every
part of his own worship, and diligently to be
exercised in it, as in hearing, prayer, Sacra-
ment, &c.
2. In worshipping him to have the purest
spiritual notion of his majesty that we are
able to attain to. * -
God deals by representing both his justice
and his mercy to persuade his people to obe-
dience; to drive them by fear of the one, and
draw them by the sweetness of the other.
Thus, pastors are to set both before their peo-
ple. But as he delights most in the pressing
of his mercy, and persuading by that, so, cer-
tainly, it is that which prevails most with
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS,
627
his own children, and doth most kindly melt,
and mould their hearts to his obedience.
Showing mercy to thousands of them that
love me and keep my commandments.] Al-
though it be not perfect, yet, it is such a keep-
ing of his commandments as flows from love,
and therefore love makes up what is wanting
in it; and that is not perfect, neither, in us
here, and therefore, mercy makes up what is
wanting in both. It is not such love and obe-
dience as can plead for reward upon merit,
but such as stands in need of mercy: and it
is free grace and mercy that rewards it.
Love me and keep my commandments.
These two are inseparable. No keeping the
commandments without love ; no love with-
out keeping them. Try, then, the one by the
other—the sincerity of your obedience by ex-
amining the spring of it, whether it arises
from love ; and try the reality of your love,
whether it be active and fruitful in obedi-
€Il Cé.
You know how studious love is to please,
how observant of their will whom it affects,
preferring it to their own will, and desirous
to have no will but the same: it makes hard
things easy, and can not endure to have any-
thing called difficult to it. Much love to God
would do this; it would turn all duty into de-
light. Did we once know what this were,
we should say with Augustine, What needs
threatening and punishment to those who love
thee not ? Is it not punishment enough, not
to love thee 2 If you would have all your
ob-dience sweet and easy to yourselves, and
aceeptable to God, seek, above all things,
hetºrts inflamed with his love.
PRECEPT III.
Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God
in vain; for the Lord will not hold him guiltless
that taketh his name in vain.
THE psalmist stirring up himself to the
praises of God, Psalm lvii. 8, calls up his glo-
ry to it. Awake my glory. By glory, the
Hebrew interpreters understand the soul ; the
Septuagint, and others, the tongue ; so the
apostle, following the Septuagint, renders it,
from Psalm xv., Acts ii. 26. It suits well
with both : the soul being the better part of
man, far excelling the body; and among the
parts of the body, the tongue having this ex-
cellency, to be the organ of speech, and so,
the interpreter of the mind: and this differ-
ence from the beasts, as the soul is, may well
partake of this honorable name, and be called
man's glory.
But that which gives them both best title
to that name, is that exercise to which he
calls them, the praising and glorifying of their
Lord and Maker. Then are they indeed our
glory, when they are so taken up and em-
ployed; when the one conceives, and the
other utters his glory.
And as it becomes them always to be one,
as they have one name, the soul and the
tongue to agree, so, especially, should this
one name given them be answered by their
harmony and agreement in his own work, for
which chiefly they have that name, in giving
glory to God. And it is that which this com:
mandment requires; forbidding that which
is the ignominy of man, both of his soul and
of his tongue, and which degrades them,
turns them out of the name of glory, to be
called shame and dishonor; that is, irrever-
ence, and the dishonoring of the glorious
name of God; and therefore, on the contrary,
commanding the reverent and holy use of his
name and service, and that we always en-
deavor so to speak and think of him, and so
to walk before him, as those that seek beyond
all things, that his name may be glorified in us
and by us. For, though false swearing and
vain swearing are main breaches of this
commandment (as we shall show afterward),
being primarily forbidden by it, yet, it extends
generally to all our speeches concerning God.
Neither is it to be restrained there, and kept
within that compass, as if it gave only law
to the tongue ; although, indeed, the tongue
hath a very great share in it, both in the
breaking and the keeping of it: yet, certainly
the precept, in its full sense, goes deeper into
the soul, and gives a rule to the speech of the
mind, our thoughts concerning God; and
larger, stretches itself forth to our actions and
life, which hath as loud a voice, to those with
whom we converse, as our tongues, and is .
the more considerable of the two—giving a
truer character of men, what they are indeed,
than their words can do.
The first commandment teaches and en-
joins whom we shall worship. The second,
what worship we shall give him. This third
shows us with what disposition and intention,
and answerably with what manner of expres-
sion, we shall worship him and use his name ;
that it be not vainly, and after a common,
trivial manner, but in holiness and humility,
and in desire of his glory.
So, then, this commandment concerns par-
ticularly that which is the great end of all the
works of God, The glory of his name. He
made all things for himself (Prov. xvi. 4),
His works of creation for this end (Isa. xliii.
7); those of redemption, and his new creation
of the elect world, all to the praise of his glo-
ry. Eph. i. 12. And for this end calls he
us from darkness to light to show forth his
praises or virtues. 1 Pet. ii. 9. This we are
to intend with him : and this precept requires
of us, that what he aimed at in all his works,
the same we may intend in all ours. And
this is an excellent thing, the holiest and hap-
piest condition, to make God's purpose ours,
and have the same end with him. Here it
is particularly true, Summa religionis est im-
itari quem colis: The main of religion is, to .
imitate him whom we worship. Thus are we
to live, and particularly, so to worship him
and make mention of his name, that we be
ever sensible of its worth and greatness, and
so beware that we indignify it not, but al-
628
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
ways seek to advance the honor and glory of
it. And that is the very scope of this com-
mandment.
There is in it, I. The Precept itself. II.
The annexed Commination.
In the Precept consider, 1. What is his
Name. 2. What it is to take it. What to
take it in vain.
The name.] That is, [1..] the names that
are given him in scripture, Jehovah, Elohim,
&c. It was a foolish and profane shift of
the Jews, who thought themselves free if
they abused not the name JEHow AH; and so
they became superstitious in the forbearing
of that, and licentious in the abuse of the
rest, and in Swearing by other things in heav-
en and earth, &c. Which, therefore, our
Savior reproves, giving the true sense of this
commandment, Matt. v. 34. And this is the
nature of superstition, to make frivolous, un-
due restraints, by way of compensation for
that profane liberty and looseness in the com-
mandments of God, which is its usual com-
panion. *} All the attributes of God, by
which the Holy Scriptures set him forth to
UIS Éd Generally, anything whatsoever by
which God is made known unto us, and dis-
tinguished from all others, and by which we
make mention of him, which are the uses of
a name. In a word, that of St. Paul expres-
seth it fully and fitly, Tô yvoordv roi, 0soč.
Thou shalt not take.] That is, thou shalt
not take, or lift up, or bear. [1..] Not use it
secretly by thyself, or within thyself, in thine
own thoughts, without reverence; nor take
it in vain. So, [2.] Not make mention of it,
or express it to others, vainly ; not lift up in
vain. . [3.]. Not bear, not be called by it, or
have it called upon thee; not profess it in
IIl Wallſ],
In vain..] That is, [1..] Falsely and dissim-
ulately. b Profanely. ...} Unprofitably,
to no person. [4.]. Lightly and inconsiderate-
ly, without due regard and holy fear.
II. The annexed Commination,
He will not hold him guiltless.] . He will
not clear him. The sovereign Judge, from
whose hand no offender can escape, except
he willingly set him free and absolve him.
He will not absolve them who abuse his
name. And it means further, he will not
clear him ; that is, he will certainly punish
him, and do judgment on him as guilty. And
this is the rather particularly here expressed,
because men are subject foolishly to promise
themselves, impunity in this sin, thinking
either that there remains no guiltiness behind
it, but it passes as the words do ; or, if there
be any, yet, being but a matter of words,
wherein the most usual and known breach of
this command consists, that the guiltiness of
them is so small, that any little excuse may
wipe it off; that it is but inadvertence, or a
bad custom, or some such thing. No, says
the Lord, the Lawgiver himself, delude not
yourselves; think not the honor and dishon-
or of my name a light matter; or, if you will,
yet I will not think it so, nor shall you find it
so; though you easily forgive and clear your-
selves, I will not clear you, but will vindicate
the glory of my name in your just punish-
ment, which your sin of taking it in vain did
abuse and dishonor, and you shall feel in that
punishment that you are not guiltless, as you
imagined. The name of God is great, and
weighty, and honorable (as the same Hebrew
word signifies both), and therefore, gui assu-
munt vel attollunt, as the same word here is—
they who offer to lift up this weighty name
lightly and regardlessly, it shall fall upon
them, and they shall be crushed under the
weight of it.
There are many questions relating to this
commandment, handled and discussed by di-
vines, as, of an oath, a vow, &c., which, for
our purposed brevity, we will pass by ; and
only, according to our usual method, add some
chief heads of the violation and the observance
of this commandment.
It forbids, 1. All false swearing or perjury,
which is to take his name after the grossest
manner in vain, or in mendacium, as the word
likewise signifies ; to call Truth itself, the
first Verity, to partake of a lie. But he is not
mocked ; for as the nature of an oath imports
invocating him as the highest both witness
and judge of truth, and punisher of falsehood,
he always, in his own due time, makes it
good on those who dare adventure upon that
guiltiness in so high a sin.
2. Papal dispensation of oaths, which is a
most heinous sin, and becomes him who is
eminently called The man of sin. It is more
than perjury ; for it is a professed, avow-
ed patrociny of perjury, together with an
ºlent conceit of a privilege and right to
O SO.
3. Equivocatory oaths, by which, if it were
lawful, the grossest perjury might be defend-
ed; for there is nothing so false, but some
mental reservation may make it true.
4. Abusing the name and the word of God
to charms and spells.
5. Execration and cursing by the name of
Satan, which is no other than invocating him.
6. Swearing by any creature.
7. Abusing and vilifying the glorious and
holy name of God, by passionate, or by vain
and common, customary swearing.
8. Swearing for ends of controversy, and in
weighty matters, where an oath is lawful, yea,
necessary, yet doing it without due reverence
and consideration of the greatness of God and
the nature of an oath.
9. The abasing of the word of God, either
wresting it to defence of error, or making
sport and jesting with it.
10. Scoffing and taunting at holiness and
the exercises of religion.
11. Dishonoring the religion which we pro-
fess, by unworthy and unsuitable carriage
of life.
12. Performing prayer, or any other reli-
gious exercise, only out of custom, without
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
629
affection and delight, and holy regard of the
presence and majesty of God in his worship.
More might be added, which for brevity we
On 11t.
Is it not the highest shame of Christians,
to take pleasure to vilify and abuse that holy
name of God, which saints and angels are
blessing above, and which we hope (as we
}.} to bless with them for ever ? If any
dare offer to excuse it by provocation or pas-
sion, who otherwise use it not; consider,
what a madness this is, because man hath
injured thee, thou wilt injure God, and be
avenged upon his name for it 2 And you
who plead custom, accurse yourselves more
deeply : that tells, you are guilty of long
continuance in, and frequent commission of,
this horrible sin. Were the fear of God in
men's hearts, it would prevail both above
their passion and their custom. Did they be-
lieve this, that the Lord will not clear them
in his great day, it would fright them out
of their custom. Were there a law made,
that whosoever were heard swear, should be
put to death, you would find a way to break
your custom. God threatens eternal death,
and you fear not, because indeed you believe
In Ot.
It commands, 1. Generally the reverend
and holy use of the name of God, and, par-
ticularly in case of necessity, by advised and
religious swearing by his name, and his
alone, in judgment, truth, and righteousness.
2. To consider his name often, to take it into
our thoughts, to meditate on his glorious at-
tributes, and on his words and works, in both
which those attributes shine forth unto us.
3. To delight to make mention of his name
upon all fit occasions, and to speak to his glo-
ry. 4. To adorn our holy profession of re-
ligion with a holy life, with wise and cir-
cumspect walking, that it may not be evil
spoken of by our means. 5. That our heart
and affection be in the service of God which
we perform ; otherwise how plausible soever
the appearance and outside of it is, it is noth-
ing but guiltiness within, a taking of his
name in vain, who will not hold him guiltless
who does so. 6. Above all exercises, to de-
light in the praises of God, which is most
properly the exalting and magnifying of his
, name, the lifting it up on high. The psalm-
ist abounds in commending it: It is good, it
is comely, it is pleasant. Oh that we could
resolve with him, Psalm xxxiv. 1, 2: I will
bless the Lord at all times ; his praise shall
ôe in my mouth continually. My soul shall
make her boast in the Lord. This is, as we
can, to bear a part here with glorified spirits;
and a certain pledge to us, that, after a few
days, we shall be admitted into their number.
PRECEPT IV.
Remember, the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six
days shalt thou labor, and do all thy work. But
the seventh is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God:
in it thou shalt not do and work, thou, northy son,
nor thy daughter, thy man-servant, nor thy maid-
servant, northy cattle, nor the stranger within thy
gates: For in six days the Lord made heaven and
earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested
the seventh day: wherefore the Lord blessed the
Sabbath day and hallowed it.
AMONG all the visible creatures, it is man's
peculiar excellency, that he is capable of con-
sidering and worshipping his Maker, and
was made for that purpose; yet being com-
posed of the dust of the earth and the breath
of God, a body and a soul, the necessities of
that meaner part, while we are in this life,
employ as much, and take up a great part
of our little time. And in this regard God
hath wisely and graciously set apart a day
for us, one of each seven, to be appropriate
to that our highest employment, the contem-
plating and solemn worshipping of his Maj-
esty. This is the scope of this precept. Com-
sider,
I. The precept itself. II. The reason of
it, and motive to its obedience. The precept
itself is first briefly expressed ; and then, fur-
ther explained and urged.
Remember.] This word used seems, 1. To
reflect upon by-past omission and forgetful-
ness. For, though it was instituted in para-
dise, and was not now a new unheard-of
thing to this people, as appears by Exod. xvi.
23, yet, it is like they were much worn out
of the observation and practice of it, espe-
cially during the time of their captivity in
Egypt. So then, it is renewed thus: keep
holy this day which you know was so long ago
appointed to be so—be not now any more un-
mindful and regardless of it. 2. Such a way
of enjoining seems more particularly needful
in this than in the rest, because it is not so
written in nature as the rest, but depends
wholly upon particular institution, which may
also be the cause why it is so large, and the
form of it alone, among all the ten, both neg-
ative and positive. Thou shalt do no work,
and remember to keep it holy. , 3. But the
main reason of this remember, is the main
thing or aim in this precept, as both the
badge, and the preserver and increaser of all
piety and religion. And therefore is it, that
it is so often pressed in the books of the law,
and in the sermons of the prophets to the
people of God, and so often called a sign of
God’s covenant with them, and their mark
of distinction from all other people. Exodus
xxiii. 12, and xxxi. 13, 14, Levit. xix. 30;
xxv. 2, &c. Jer. xvii. Isa. lviii. 13, 14, &c.
The Sabbath day.] It is called a day of rest
from the beginning and original of its insti-
tution, God's rest; and from the end of its
institution, man’s rest; both which follow in
the words of the command: the one is the
example and enforcing reason of the other.
That thou keep holy.] God sanctified it by
instituting it, and man sanctifies it by observ-
ing it according to that institution.
This sanctifying is [1..]. In cessation from
earthly labor. [2] In their stead, to be whol-
630
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
ly possessed and taken up with spiritual ex-
ercise, both in private and in public. The
former is necessary for the being of the lat-
ter; that cessation, for this work; and the
latter is necessary for the due being of the
former ; we can not be vacant and entire for
spiritual service, unless we cease from bodily
labor; and this cessation or resting from bod-
ily labor can not be a sanctifying of this day
unto God, unless it be accompanied with
spiritual exercise.
In the following words, that part only is
expressed, the rest or abstinency from work;
but the other is supposed as the end of this—
that they shall not do their own works, that
they may attend upon God’s, his solemn wor-
ship. And this is implied in that word, It is
the sabbath of the Lord thy God ; both of his
own appointing, and for this end, this work,
that he may be more solemnly worshipped.
And likewise, the antithesis that seems to be
in that word, In six days thou shalt do all thy
work, imports, that on the seventh thou shalt
do God's. Not so called, that any benefit
arises to him by our service; no, our goodness
reaches him not at all. Psalm xvi. 2. In that
way, that worship, which is far above ours,
that of the angels, can add nothing to him,
for he is infinite. Even this work, sabbath-
work, and all-out prayers and praises offered
to him, and all performances of his worship,
they are our works, in respect of the gain and
advantage of them : it comes all back to us.
But his worship is his work objectively, he is
the object of it; and directively, by particular
prescription from himself; and if you will add,
effectively, too, never done aright but by his
own grace and assistance.
Sia days shalt, thou labor.] The command
of due labor and diligence in our particular
callings, is not of this place ; it belongs prop-
erly to the eighth precept, and in some way
to the seventh : here it is only mentioned pre-
missively, and for illustration of this duty
here enjoined. And further, there is under it
a motive from abundant equity: seeing that
God hath made the proportion thus, not
pinched to us, but dealt very liberally in the
time granted for our own work, what gross,
not impiety only, but iniquity and ingratitude
will it be, to encroach upon that small part
he hath nominated and set apart for his ser-
vice | This was a great aggravation of our
first parents’ first sin, that having the free use
of all the trees in the garden beside, they
would not bate that one which was forbidden
them, in homage and obedience to him who
had given them all the rest, and given them
themselves, who a little before were nothing.
Thou shalt labor sia days. Not so as in
them to forget and take no notice of God, nor
at all to call upon him and worship him, and
think to acquit all by some kind of attendance
on him on the sabbath. They who do so are
most unsanctified themselves, and therefore
can not sanctify the sabbath to God. Such
profane persons do profane and pollute all
they touch with their foul hands, for such be
all profane hands lifted up to God in prayer.
The life of the godly is not a visiting of God
only in his house on this day, but a daily and
constant walking with God in their own .
houses, and in all our ways, making both our
houses and our hearts his houses, his temples,
where he may dwell with us, and we may
offer him our daily sacrifices.
Only, the peculiar of this day is, that we
may not divide it between heaven and earth,
but it shall be wholly for the service of God,
and no work at all to have place in it that
may hinder that, and suits not with the Sanc-
tifying of it: for so we are to understand the
word, No manner of work.
Neither thou northy servant, &c.] As each
one is obliged personally, so, they who have
command of others, are bound to bind them
to observance of the precept, and the cattle
to rest, because their labor is for man’s use,
and therefore his resting infers theirs; as,
likewise their rest is for a passive conformity,
that man may see nothing round about him
but what may incite to the observance of this
day ; which was the reason, in solemn fasts,
of the beasts’ fasting likewise, for man's fur-
ther humiliation. The stranger, if converted
and professing their religion, the same reason
for him as for all others within a man’s house:
and if a stranger to their religion too, yet they
might, and ought, as is here commanded,
oblige him to this part of outward conformity,
cessation from work, which otherwise would
be an offensive and scandalous sight ; and
withal, if they did any work for those with
whom they dwelt, their share would be deep-
er in the sin, than of such a stranger not pro-
fessing their religion.
For in sia days.] It is not pertinent here
to speak of the reason of this, why God made
six days’ work of that which he could have
done in one instant. Here, it is only urged
exemplarily, as the reason why God did sanc-
tify this day, and why we should sanctify it.
His rest, you know, is not of weariness, or at
all of ceasing from motion, for He faints not,
neither is wearied, as he tells us by the
prophet, Isa. xl. 28; yea, he moves not at all
in working. Omnia movet inse immotus: All
things, himself unmoved, are moved by him.
But this rest is this: that this was the day
that immediately followed the perfecting of
the creation ; and therefore God blessed it
with this privilege (that is the blessing of it),
that it should be to men holy, for the contem-
plation of God and of his works, and for sol-
emn worship to be performed to him.
All the other precepts of this law remain-
ing in full force in their proper sense, it can
not but be an injury done to this command,
either flatly to refuse it that privilege, or,
which is little better, to evaporate it into alle-
gories. Nor was the day abolished as a typi-
cal ceremony, but that seventh only changed
to a seventh still, and the very next to it; he
who is Lord of the sabbath, either himself
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
631
immediately, or by his authority in his apos-
tles, appointing that day of his resurrection
for our sabbath, adding to the remembrance
of the first creation, the memorial of accom-
plishing the new creation, the work of our
redemption, which appeared then manifestly
to be perfected, when our Redeemer broke
the chains of death, and arose from the grave;
he who is the light of the new world, shining
forth anew the same day that light was made
in the former creation. This day was St.
John, in the Spirit, taken up with those ex-
traordinary revelations. Rev. i. 10. They
were extraordinary indeed. And certainly,
every Christian ought to be in the Spirit, in
holy meditations and exercises on this day,
more than the rest ; winding up his soul,
which the body poises downward, to a high-
er degree of heavenliness; ought to be par-
ticularly careful to bring an humble heart to
speak to God in prayer, and hear him in his
Word, a heart breathing after him, longing to
meet with himself in his ordinances. And,
certainly, it is safer and sweeter to be thus
affected toward the Lord's day, than to be
much busied about the debate of the change.
The very life of religion doth much depend
upon the solemn observation of this day.
Consider, if we should intermit the keeping
of it but for one year, to what a height pro-
faneness would rise in those who fear not God,
who yet are restrained, though not converted,
by the preaching of the word, and their out-
ward partaking of public worship. Yea, those
who are most spiritual would find themselves
losers by the intermission.
What forbidden.—1. Bodily labor on this
day, where necessity unavoidable, or piety,
commands not. 2. Sporting and pastime.*
This is not to make it a sabbath to God, but
to our lusts and to Satan ; and hath a strong-
er antipathy with the worship of God, and
that temper of mind they intend in it, than
the hardest labor. 3. Resting from these,
but withal resting from the proper work of
this day, neglecting the worship of God in
the assemblies of his people. The beasts
can keep it thus, as we see in the precept. 4.
Resorting to the public worship of God, but
in a customary, cold way, without affection
and spiritual delight in it. 5. Spending the
remainder of the day incongruously, in vain
visits and discourses, &c.
How observed.—1. By pious remembrance
of it, and preparation, sequestering not only
the body from the labor, but our souls from
the cares and other vain thoughts of the
world. 2. Attending upon the public wor-
ship of God willingly and heartily, as the
joy and refreshment of our souls. Isa. lviii.;
Psalm crxii. 3. Spending the remainder of
it in private, holily; as much as may be, in
meditation of the word preached, and con-
ference, in prayer, reading, and meditating
on the great works of God, of creation, re-
demption, &c.
* Sabb. wituli aurei.
This is the loveliest, brightest day in all
the week to a spiritual mind. These rests
refresh the soul in God, that finds nothing but
turmoil in the creature. Should not this day
be welcome to the soul, that sets it free to
mind its own business, which is on other days
to attend the business of its servant, the body?
And these are a certain pledge to it of that
expected freedom, when it shall enter to an
eternal Sabbath, and restin him for ever, who
is the only rest of the soul.
PRECEPT W.
Honor thy father and thy mother, that thy days ma
. long in the land which the Lord thy God givet
thee.
THE renewed image of God in man, or the
new man, is made up of holiness and righteous-
ness. Ephes. iv. 24. These two are that of
which the whole law of God is the rule: the
first table, the rule of holiness or piety tow-
ard God; the second, of righteousness or equi-
ty toward men. And of the commandments
which concern the latter, the first aims at the
preserving of that order which God hath ap-
pointed in the several relations of superiors
and inferiors; that is the scope of this fifth
commandment.
Daily experience teacheth us how needful
this is, that God should give a particular pre-
cept concerning this ; in that we see how few
there are who know aright, either how to
command and bear rule as superiors, or as in-
feriors, to obey and be subject. And there is
one evil very natural to men, which misleads
them in both, pride and self-opinion, which
often makes superiors affect excess in com-
manding, and inferiors defective in due obe-
dience.
Observe the order: it hath the first place
In the second table : 1st. As being the rule
of order and society among men, which is
needful for the better observing of all the
rest. And, 2dly, as in all authority, there is
a particular resemblance of God, therefore it
is fitly placed next to those precepts that con-
tain our duty to himself. He is pleased to
use that interchange of names with superiors
which testifies this resemblance; not only to
take theirs to himself, to be called a father,
a master, a king, &c., but to communicate his
OWn name to them, and call them gods. And
where the apostle speaks of God as the Fa-
ther of Spirits, he draws a reason from that
obedience we owe to the fathers of our flesh,
as the subordinate causes of our being. Heb.
xii. 9.
There is in the words, I. The precept. II.
The promise. And it is called by the apostle,
The first commandment with promise. Ephes.
vi. 2. For the last clause of the second com-
mandment, though it imply a promise, yet, as
is usually observed, it is general to the keep-
ing of all the commandments; whereas this
is appropriate. But again, that is a promise
632
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
of mercy in general, this of one particular
blessing. Further, that it is not formally a
promise, though it implies one indeed, and is
intended so ; but it is set down by way of de-
scription of God, from his mercy and bounty
to those who keep his precepts; as the clause
foregoing it expresses his justice in punishing
the rebellious.
Honor.] Under this is comprehended what-
soever is due to superiors, by virtue of that
their station and relation to us: inward re-
spectful thoughts and esteem of them, and
the outward expression and signifying of it
by the usual signs of honor, and by obedience
and gratitude, &c.
• Thy father, &c.]. This relation is named
for all the rest, as being the first and most
natural ; and also as being the sweetest and
most affectionate superiority, and therefore
the fittest to regulate the command of supe-
riors, and to persuade inferiors to obedience.
Magistrates are fathers for men's civil good
in their societies and dwelling together; min-
isters, fathers for their spiritual good and so-
ciety as Christians.
That thy days may be long in the land.]
That it is said, "Which the Lord thy God shall
give thee, is peculiar to that people to whom
this law was first delivered ; but the substance
of the promise being common, extends to all
together with the precept.
This blessing of length of days is particu-
larly fit for the duty; that they who honor
their parents, who are the second causes of
their life, should be blessed with long life.
This, as all other promises of temporal
things, is ever to be taken with that condition
without which they might change their qual-
ity, and prove rather punishments; but God
always bestows them on his own, and there-
fore ought to be understood so to promise
them, in so far as they are fit for them, and
may be truly good in their particular enjoy-
ment, and as they conduce to a greater good.
It forbids—1. All disobedience in inferiors
to the just commands of those whom God
hath placed in authority above them ; stub-
bornness and rebellion in children against
their parents, or despising and disesteem of
them, for their meanness in body, or mind,
or estate. The precept is not, honor thy
parents for their riches, or wisdom, or come-
liness; but, honor them as thy parents, and
because they are so. Against this com-
mand is all other disobedience or refractori-
ness of those who owe obedience; wives to
their husbands, servants to their masters, peo-
ple to their pastors, &c.
2. Superiors break it, when they abuse
their authority to serve their pride. Their
screwing it too high, is very unpleasant, a
particular dishonor to God, and defaces the
resemblance they have of him: it spoils their
harmony, as a string too high wound up ; and
besides that, it is very dangerous, being the
ready way to break it. As in magistracy and
public government, tyranny is most observa-
ble, so there is petty tyranny in masters and
parents, and husbands, in extreme harshness
and bitterness, ui tikpaivere, says the apostle,
&c. Again, the precept is broken, when su-
periors walk unworthily, and so divest them-
selves of that honor which belongs to them.
It commands—First, that children give due
respect and obedience to their parents; and
that all who are subject to the authority
of others, though they have not suitable de-
serving, give it to their station, in obedience
to God who commands. For though they,
personally considered, do not, yet certainly
God deserves our obedience. And it is so
much the purer to him, when, other incite-
ments failing, yet we observe that which
fades not at all.
All obedience to men is limited thus, that
it be in the Lord, and with regard to his su-
premacy ; and therefore no authority can
oblige to the obedience of any command that
crosses his. Authority is primitively and
originally in God, and he gives not his glory
to another. He gives not away any of his
peculiar authority to man, but substitutes
him ; and our first tie is to God, as his crea-
tures, and this is universal. The greatest
kings are his vassals, and owe him homage,
and no authority derived from him, can free
us from that which we owe to himself.
There is a straight line of subordination, and
if superiors leave this, we are to adhere to it,
looking directly to God, keeping our station.
Some of the schoolmen think that the inferi-
or angels therefore ſell with the chief in their
apostacy, because they looked so much upon
him, that they considered him not in subor-
dination to God, and so, left their station, as
the apostle speaks, Jude 6.
Secondly, The duty of all superiors is,
1. To consider that their higher station is not
for themselves, and for their own advantage,
but for those who are in subjection to them :
as the stars are set in the highest place, but
are for the benefit of the inferior world, by
their light and heat and influenge: Let them
be for lights in the firmament of heaven, to
give light upon the earth. Gen. i. 15. 2. Let
them always remember, to command in God
and for him ; to prefer his honor to their
own; and seeing he gives command concern-
ing theirs, that they make it serviceable for
the advancing of his. For, to this purpose
hath he given them authority, and given
command that they be honored ; and his
promise is, to honor those that honor him, but
they that despise him, shall be despised. 1 Sam.
ii. 30. This many superiors have felt, be-
cause they would not believe it and take no-
tice of it.
Would parents teach their children to know
God, and honor and obey him, this were the
surest and most effectual way to make them
obedient children to them. If they teach
them to obey God, you see, he commands
them to obey their parents; and therefore, in
obedience to him, they will do so.
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
633
PRECEPT VI.
Thou shalt not kill. Or, Thou shalt do no murder.
THE world was at first perfect harmony, but
sin made the breach at which discord entered,
enmity between God and man, and enmity
between man and man. As the sin that hath
poisoned man's nature makes him a rebel to
God, so it makes men tigers and wolves one
to another; and that same serpent that at
first envenomed our nature, doth still hiss on
wretched men, both to disobedience against
God, and enmity and cruelty against one an-
other. We see how soon this evil followed
upon the former : the first parents disobeyed
God, and the first children, the one killed the
other. In opposition to this evil, God hath
given this to be one of his ten precepts, Thou
shalt not kill.
Having given a rule touching the particu-
lar relations of men, the following command-
ments of the second table concern the gen-
eral duties of all men, one to another; and
this sixth regardeth his being or life.
Not kill.] This ties not up the sword of
justice, which is in the magistrate's hand,
from punishing offenders, even with death
those that deserve it; but rather calls for the
use of it, not being to be carried in vain, as
the apostle says, Rom. xiii. 4: not a gilt
sword only for show, but to be drawn and
wielded for the execution of justice; both
that in the just punishment of sin (K6Aaats],
the sinner may eat of the fruit of his own
ways, and so, God the Supreme Judge and
Fountain of justice may be honored [Tipopul),
and that by that example [IIapačetypal, others
may be terrified from the like offences. And
thus, just killing by the sword of the magis-
trate is a main means of the observing of this
commandment among men, Thou shalt not
kill.
By the like reason is just war likewise freed
from the breach of this commandment. But,
The scope of the precept being the preser-
wation and safety of the life of man, and
guarding it from violence, it is evident that
all injury to our neighbor's life, our own not
excluded, ſº ; and not only the hei-
nous fault of murder, which human laws do
punish, but all the seeds and beginnings of
this sin in the heart, to which principally, as
the fountain of our actions, the spiritual law
of God is given : as the authentic interpreta-
tion of our Savior teacheth, Matt. v., and par-
ticularly touching this commandment, verse
21, &c.
1. All fixed hatred of our brethren is for-
bidden, as the highest degree of heart-mur-
der. Thou shalt not hate thy brother in thy
heart. Levit. xix. 17. And, Whosoever ha-
teth his brother is a murderer. 1 John iii. 15;
and he adds, Ye know that no murderer hath
life eternal abiding in him. So then, he is in
a woful deadly condition, in whose heart this
hatred dwells. This is an infernal kind of
fire, like your fires under ground, that can not
be quenched. So far is it from the temper of
any truly spiritual and heavenly mind, to be
subject to it, that there is not anything more
contrary to the Spirit of God, and the work
of his grace, than the spirit of malice. And
although it never break forth to revenge, yet,
if the heart rejoice when evil befalls those it
dislikes, although it come from another hand,
God accounts it as if he who is glad at it, had
inflicted it and been the worker of it. There-
fore Job protests thus, that he rejoiced not at
the destruction of him that hated him, nor lift
up his soul when evil found him. Job. xxxi. 29.
2. Rash anger, either that which is alto-
gether without just cause, or which upon
some just cause, arises to an undue measure.
And is not this the ordinary disease of the
greatest part—an habitual bitterness of spirit,
that is put out of its seat and troubled with
every trifling cause, peevishly stirred up with
the shadow and imagination of a wrong,
where none is done 2
3. The vent of these passions of envy and
hatred, or sudden rash anger, by railing, and
strife, and bitter speakings, by scoffs and
taunts, by whisperings and detraction, which
are the common exercise of base and unwor-
thy spirits. -
This commandment requires that, to the
avoiding and forbearance of all injury to the
life of our neighbor, we add a charitable dis-
position and desire of preserving it, and do
accordingly act that charity to our utmost
power, to the good and comfort of his life;
using toward him meekness and patience,
clemency and beneficence; doing him good,
supplying his wants, as we are able. For it
is cruelty to the life of our poor brethren,
to be straight-handed toward them in the
day of their necessity and our abundance, at
least, of our comparatively better estate.
1 John iii. 17.
But we think we do much this way, when,
upon right trial, we should find ourselves ex-
ceedingly defective. We look upon our few
and petty acts of charity with a multiplying
glass, and see one as it were ten. Who al-
most are there, that will draw somewhat
from their excesses, to turn into this chan-
nel ? that will abate a lace from their gar-
ment, or a dish from their table, to bestow
upon the necessities of the poor ? In a word,
we ought not only to be free from hurting,
but be a tree of life to our neighbor.
Let us then be convinced of our guiltiness
in the breach of this precept. Men think it
much if they can forgive, upon the acknowl-
edgment and submission of those who have
injured them ; but they aspire not to this, cor-
dially to forgive those who still continue to
wrong and provoke them, to compassionate
them, and pray for them, and repay all their
evil with meekness and good-will... We con-
sider not how sublime the rule of Christianity
is, and how low our spirits are, and how far
off from it. Be not overcome of evil, says the
apostle, but overcome evil with good. Rom.
80
634
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
xii. 21. It is easy to overcome a man who
resists not, but yields; to pardon injury when
it ceaseth, and entreats pardon; but when it
holds out, and is so stout as still to fight
against that goodness and meekness which it
meets withal, yet, the Christian Ought to per-
sist in these, and overcome it with good.
And see our Savior’s rule to them who will
be his disciples, against hatred and wrath,
Matt. v. 44. Labor for humble spirits. Pride
is the spring of malice and desire of revenge,
and of rash anger and contention. This makes
men easily swell against anything that cros-
ses them, because they have laid down this
with themselves, that they deserve to be ob-
served and respected, and not crossed at all;
and when they find it otherwise, it kindles
them to anger. And it is not the degree of
provocation, but the different temper of men's
spirits, makes them more or less subject to
anger. It matters not how great the fire be,
but where it falls.
Consider, 1. That these turbulent passions
carry their punishment along with them :
they rankle and fester the soul, and fill it full
of pain and disturbance. Whereas the spirit
of meekness makes the soul of a Christian
like the highest region of the air, constantly
calm and serene. The apostle speaking of
this commandment of love, says, that the com-
mandments of God are not grievous, 1 John
v. 3. Certainly, there is such a true pleasure
in meekness, forgiving of injuries, and loving
our very enemies, that did men know it, they
would choose it for the very delight and
sweetness of it, though there were no com-
mand to enforce it.
2. Consider, particularly against rash an-
ger, how weak and foolish a thing it is. An-
ger resteth in the bosom of fools, saith Solo-
mon. Eccl. vii. 9. A fool's breast is the very
natural place of anger, where it dwells. But,
as he says elsewhere, A man of understand-
ing is of an eacellent spirit. Prov. xvii. 9.
The word is, a cool spirit. What a senseless
mistake is it for men to think it strength and
greatness of spirit, to bear nothing, to be sen-
sible of every touch, and to stand upon their
punctilios Is it not evident weakness, to be
able to suffer nothing 2 We see the weak-
est persons most subject to anger—women,
children, and the sick, and aged persons; old
age being both a continued sickness, and a
childishness, as they call it, and as the dregs
of a man’s life turned into vinegar: it is the
weakness of all these that makes them fret-
ful.” . In a word, it is the glory of a man to
pass by a transgression. Every one can be
angry, and most are they who are weakest;
but to be above it, and have it under com-
mand, is the advantage of those who are truly
wise, and therefore, worthy or our study to
attain it.
3. That which should most prevail with
Christians to study love and meekness of
spirit, and a propension to do good to all, is,
* Omne infirmum natură querulum.
the conformity that is in this temper to our
Head and Redeemer, Jesus Christ—to par-
take of his dove-like Spirit. Learn of me,
says he, for I am meek and lowly in heart.
The fruit of the Spirit is love. Gal. v. 22.
And this he hath given as the commission
and badge of his disciples, that, as he loved
them, so they love one another. John xiii. 35.
PRECEPT VII.
Thou shalt not commit adultery.
As the perverseness of nature hath found
out crooked ways, and sinful abuses of things
that we enjoy and use, the holy law of God
aims at the rectifying of these abuses, and
the bounding and limiting of our ways by a
strait rule.
And this precept particularly debars us
from all sinful uncleanliness, under the name
of one kind of it; that, answerably to our
condition or estate of it, whatsoever it is,
single or married, we ought to endeavor that
cleanness and purity of soul and body, that
become the temples of the Holy Ghost.
I purpose not to reckon up particularly the
several sorts and degrees of sin of this kind;
for chastity is a delicate, tender grace, and
can scarcely endure the much naming of it-
self, far less of those things that are so con-
trary to it. Though in the law of God, given
to the people of the Jews, there is express
mention of the gross abominations of this
kind, because practised by the Gentiles, and
to be forbidden them ; and though the apos-
tle writing to the Gentiles newly converted
from those abominations, of necessity men-
tions particulars of them; yet, further than
that necessity of reproving them where they
are in custom requires, he hates the very
naming of them. Eph. v. 3–12. As the old
Roman satirists, while they seem to reprove
vice, rather teach it by their impudent de-
scriptions of it: the new Roman casuists,
some of them, are as foul that way.
. It may suffice to regulate us in this, if we
believe this truth, that whatsoever is in this
kind, besides the lawful use of marriage, is a
breach of this holy law of God, whether it
be in action or in words, or so much as in
thought. And if this be true—as it is, if we
believe truth itself, our Savior's interpreta-
tion—that an unchaste look, or thought,
makes a man guilty, then, surely, whatsoev-
er is beyond these is more grossly sinful.
What a shameful thing it is that our holy
profession of religion should be so dishonored
by the abounding of uncleanness among us!
In many, it breaks forth scandalously ; and
if there be any who live in that way of wick-
edness undiscovered, and walk secretly in it,
yet, the pure Lord who perfectly sees and
hates it, will call them to account, and judge
them, according to the apostle's word, Heb.
xiii. 4. Consider this likewise, any of you
who have not lamented your former impure
conversation, but being reformed outwardly,
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
635
by your years or condition of life, yet never
have inwardly repented, and been deeply
humbled for the sins of your youth. True
conversion is not so light a work. David re-
members his former sins, and prays earnestly
that God would not remember them against
him. Psalm xxv. 7. And on the contrary,
you who think not on them, may justly fear
that God will remember them, because you
yourselves have forgot them.
They who give their tongues the liberty
of scurrilous jesting and impure speeches can
not but have filthy hearts: their noisome
breath argues rottenness within.
Yea, they who proceed no further in un-
cleanness than to entertain and lodge the
fancies or thoughts of it, rolling them on
their beds, and delighting in them, even such
are exceedingly guilty and abominable in the
sight of God, who doth not only see into the
heart, but most of all eyes and regards it.
Reep thy heart with all diligence, says Solo-
mon, for from thence are the issues of life.
Prov. iv. 23. Certainly, they who can dis-
pense with themselves in these inward heart-
uncleannesses and find no remorse, can not
think the Spirit of God dwells within them;
for, if he were there, he would be showing
his discontent and anger against that unholi-
ness which is so contrary to him.
And this, they who have any truth of
grace will find, that if they be not either
free from the assaults, or at least, if those
filthy birds, such impure thoughts, be not
perfectly beaten away when they light on
the soul, if they stay but any time with
them, although they afterward do chase them
out with indignation, yet they do leave such a
stain as grieves and saddens the Holy Spirit
in them, and for a time they find it not act in
prayer, and in spiritual comfort, so cheerfully
as before. Let no corrupt (or rotten) commu-
nication proceed ont of your mouth, says the
apostle, and grieve not the Holy Spirit. Eph.
iv. 29. , Rotten speech grieves the Holy Spi-
rit, and so do such thoughts too, which are
man's speech with himself, and therefore
being most familiar and frequent with him,
ought to be most regarded and watched over.
There is not anything will more readily dry
up the sweetness and spiritual moisture of
the soul, and cause the graces in it to wither,
than the impure fire of lust. Therefore, you
who have any beginnings of grace, and
would have it flourish, beware of this, and
quench it in its first sparkles ; if you do not,
it may in a little time, rise above your pow-
er, and still prove very dangerous.
If you would be freed from the danger and
importunity of this evil, make use of these
usual and very useful rules. [1..] Be sober
and temperate in diet: withdraw fuel. [2] Be
modest and circumspect in your carriage.
Guard your ears and eyes, and watch overall
your deportment. Beware of undue and dan-
gerous familiarities with any, upon what pre-
tence soever. [3.] Be choice in your society,
for there is much in that. [4.] In general,
flee all occasions and incentives to unclean-
ness. But truly, the solid cure must begin
within ; otherwise, all these outward reme-
dies will prove but empiric medicines, as they
call them.
1. First, then, lean not upon moral resolves
and particular purposes against uncleanness,
but seek a total, entire change of the heart,
and to find the sanctifying Spirit of grace
dwelling within you.
2. Labor to have the heart possessed with
a deep apprehension of the holiness and puri-
ty of God, and then of his presence and eye
upon all thy actions, yea, thy most secret
thoughts. His eye is more piercing than
that any wickedness can be hid from him,
and more pure than to behold it without in-
dignation. The darkness is as noon-day to
him. I can not steal a thought out of his
sight, though it be never so sudden and short.
Then think, If I pretend to communion and
converse with my God, he is all holiness,
therefore uncleanness can never attain that
to which I aspire. What communion hath
light with darkness, or Christ with Belial 2
And shall I lose or hazard the sweetness of
his presence for so base a delight 2 How can
I offer that heart to him in prayer, which
hath been wallowing in the mire of unclean
practice or imagination ? Resolve to drive
out the assaults which you are incident to :
How shall I do, or think thus? My holy
God is looking on me. This was Joseph's
preservation, Shall I do this evil, and sin
against God 2
3. Acquaint yourselves with spiritual de-
lights, and this will make a happy diversion
from those which are sensual and earthly.
Somewhat a man must have to delight in.
It is the philosopher's remark, that they who
know not the true pleasure of the mind, turn
to the base pleasures of the body.
Some moral men, seeking the higher de-
light of the mind, in their way have persuad-
ed themselves to a generous disdain of their
bodies. How much more powerfully may
supernatural delights of the soul, righteous-
ness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost,
wean it from these gross, sensual pleasures,
which the beasts have in common with us;
at least from the immoderate desire and all
unlawful pursuit of them | Nothing indigni-
fies the soul more than lust. When David
had sinned this way, it had so made havoc
of grace within him, that he cries not only
for cleansing, but for a new creation, as if all
were undone ; Create in me a clean heart.
He found it so slavish and ignoble a sin, that
he prays to be re-established by God with a
free (or noble) spirit. Psalm li. 10, 12.
4. Increase in the love of Christ. For, as
that grows, there is a decrease of the love of
sin, yea, of the immoderate love of all inferior
things; ās the sun-beams eat out the fire, this
Divine and heavenly love consumes the other.
All our love is too scarce or poor for him,
636
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
when it is collected and drawn altogether to
run only toward him ; and therefore there is
none to spare upon the flesh and the lusts of
it, nor upon any creature, but as he allows
and appoints. The sense of his love takes up
the whole soul, and he lodging in it, is that
true agnus castus that makes it chaste—that
bundle of myrrh that hath a virtue to preserve
the Christian from the corruptions of lust.
That love of Jesus Christ is strong as death,
kills all opposite affections; and indeed, it
alone is worthy of the soul, the noble, immor-
tal soul. Oh, how is it abased, when it is
drawn down to sensuality, and so made a
slave to its servant, the flesh . Major sum,
et ad majora genitus, could a Roman philo-
ospher say, quâm ut sim mancipium mei cor-
poris: I am greater, and born to greater things,
than to be a slave to my body. How unworthy
is it, that being capable of the highest good,
the fruition of God, we should forget ourselves
so far as to serve vile lust, and forfeit the hap-
piness and pleasures of eternity. Far be it
from us. God hath called us to holiness, and
not to uncleanness, says the apostle. 1 Thess.
IV. 7.
Flee all unlawful and forbidden delights.
And those that are lawful, do not engage your
hearts to them, love them not immoderately;
and they can scarcely be loved without excess,
if loved at all. Shall I say then, If you use
them, yet love them not, reserve that for purer
enjoyments 2 Says not the apostle this 2 1
Cor. vii. 30. Let them that rejoice, be as if
they rejoiced not ; and, particularly, they that
marry, as if they married not. And his reason
is weighty : For the fashion of this world
passeth away.
Remember to what a pure and excellent
condition we are called as Christians, and
with what a price we are bought to be holy ;
and let it be our firm purpose and study to
glorify God in our souls and bodies, for they
are his.
PRECEPT VIII.
Thou shalt not steal.
GoD is the God of order, and not of confu-
sion: it is he that hath authorized and ap-
pointed peculiarity of possessions unto men,
and withal, that society and commerce among
them which serves for their mutual good.
And property reserved makes one man, in
what he possesses, useful and helpful to an-
other. And he hath given this precept of his
law, to regulate them in these things, to be
the rule of that which we call contentation or
justice, equity toward our neighbor, in the
matter of his goods or proper possessions.
This, then, being the scope of the com-
mandment, whatsoever breaks this hedge, is,
as comprehended under the name of theft,
here forbidden :—all manner of injustice and
wrong done to our neighbor in his estate,
whether by violence or by sleight of hand, by
force or fraud, yea, if it be but so much as in
affection or desire; for (as we have often said)
the law is spiritual, and binds not only the
hands, but the heart. So, then, not only gross
robberies and thefts are here forbidden, but all
oppression and extortion in superiors, all pur-
loining and unfaithfulness in inferiors; too
strict exaction in masters, and slothfulness in
servants, or whatsoever else may tend to their
master's damage; all bribery and receiving
of gifts, to the perverting of justice; all deceit
and over-reaching in commerce, or trading,
or bargaining ; taking advantage in buying
or selling, or any contract, upon the ignorance
or simplicity of those we deal withal; all
desire and seeking of our neighbor's loss to
our gain ; all the degrees of sacrilege and
simony : all idleness and neglect in men's
particular callings, by which they either im-
poverish themselves, and are worse than in-
fidels, not providing for their families (1 Tim.
v. 8), or, if they fiáve certain provision by
their callings, in neglecting the duties of
them, they wrong those from whom, or for
whose sakes they are so provided, as magis-
trates and ministers, who have, or should
have, honorable maintenance for their public
service, the one in the commonwealth, the
other in the church. As it is a great sin to
curtail or detain what is due that way, so it
is no less wickedness in them, if they be re-
miss and careless of those duties to which
they are obliged for the public good. In a
word, whosoever can digest any kind of undue
gain to themselves, or do any prejudice to
their neighbor in the least, are guilty. Yea,
they sin against this precept, who do not with
all their power further the advantage and
good of their neighbor in his outward con-
dition; who do not help and relieve those
they see in want, so far as their ability
reaches.
There is a kind of right that the poor have
to supply; it is not merely arbitrary to you.
Though they have not such a right as to take
it at their own hand, or to seek it at the
houses of human justice, yet, they have such
a right as that your hand ought not to detain
it. Withhold not good from them to whom it
is due. Prov. iii. 27. "Which is evidently
meant (and interpreters take it so) of all kind
of doing good, even that of charity and benefi-
cence to the needy, as appears by the follow
ing clause, When it is in the power of thine
hand to do it. And the Septuagint reads
ëvroteiv rév čvácſi. It is due ; they have a
right to it; though not such as they can im-
plead for before men's courts or judicatures,
yet, in the court of conscience, and in the
sight of God, it is duly theirs. The word is
from him who is Lord of it. Esurientium
panis est qui apud te mucescit, et sittentium
potus qui apud te aces.cit. [AMBROSE.] It
is the bread of the hungry that moulds by
thee, and the drink of the thirsty that sours
by thee. Although thou art in possession,
hast superfluity by thee, what he wants is his
by right ; he is lord of it; for the Lord of all
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
637
hath turned over his right to thy poor broth-
er. The Lord himself needs it not ; thy good-
ness can not reach him. He hath furnished
thee with such as need it, and may be his re-
ceivers, and have warrant from him to take
it up in his stead. And be sure he will ac-
knowledge the receipt of it: thou hast his
own word and writ for it, a bill of exchange
under his own hand, that what you give to
the poor, be put upon his accounts. He that
giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord, and
he will repay it. Prov. xix. 17. And again,
In that you did it unto one of these, says our
Savior, ye did it unto me. Matt. xxv. 40.
It is the surest and most lasting part of a
man's estate, that is put into their hand.
Quas dederis solas semper habebis opes. Thine
alms alone, of all thy wealth, thou shalt possess
for ever. If God be solvendo, if he be a suffi-
cient debtor, it is treasure laid up in heaven.
So then, this precept requires uprightness
and equity in all our dealings; a desire to
right and advantage our brethren as ourselves,
willing their gain and prosperity as our own ;
diligence and industry in our callings, and
giving to all others their due. Though men
are not obliged to a sottish simplicity ; but
ought to endeavor so to understand their af-
fairs, that they may avoid circumvention by
others' craft; yet a prudent simplicity is the
right stamp of a Christian mind, to be single
and ingenuous, and rather to suffer loss from
others, than to cause them any. In a word,
the apostles' rule is express and full ; 1 Thess.
iv. 6: That no man over-reach or defraud his
brother in any matter: and he adds a very
forcible reason, Because the Lord is the aven-
ger of all such ; as we have also (says he)
forewarned you and testified. Men, are
ready to find out poor shifts to deceive them-
selves, when they have some way deceived
their brother, and to stop the mouth of their
own conscience with some quibble and some
slight excuse, and force themselves at length
to believe they have done no wrong. There-
fore, the apostle, to fright them out of their
shifts, sets before them an exacter judge, who
can not be deceived nor mocked, who shall
one day unveil the conscience, and blow away
these vain self-excuses as smoke ; and that
just Lord will punish all injustice: He is the
avenger of all such.
At the first view, a man would think the
breach of this commandment concerns but
few persons, some thieves and robbers, and
some professed deceivers, or if you add some
cozening tradesmen and merchants; but the
truth is, there is scarcely any one of the com-
mandments so universally and frequently
broken, and whereof the breach is so little
observed, and therefore, so seldom repented
of by the greatest part. As the Apostle
James says, He is a perfect man who offends
not in his words, truly, he is a rare man who
offends not, and that remarkably (if men
would remark themselves), against this com-
mandment, Thou shall not steal.
To say nothing of the oppression and hard
exactions of such as are superiors of lands,
grinding the faces of the poor, and squeezing
them till the blood come, and so putting in
the same blood of the poor, among their es-
tates, which many times proves a canker to
all the rest ; and the thievishness of servants,
and of the poorer sort, making no conscience
at all of whatsoever they can filch from their
masters, or those that are richer than they,
counting all they can snatch good booty and
lawful prize: to pass by, likewise, the par-
ticular deceits which are usual in several
callings, and are incorporate with them
through long custom, and become a part of
the mystery of those callings, and therefore,
men dispense with themselves in them as the
inseparable sin of their calling, and have no
remorse for them : not to insist on these and
such like, consider, how frequently this meum
et teum, mine and thine, proves the apple of
strife between the nearest friends, and di-
vides their affections, and begets debates
among them ; parents and children, and breth-
ren, &c. And certainly, there is always
Some unjust desire on one side in those con-
tentions, and sometimes, on both sides. How
few are there who have hearts so weaned
from the world, as in all things to prefer the
Smallest point of equity, to the greatest temp-
tation of gain!—who in their affairs and all
that concerns them, are universally careful to
deal with an even hand and even heart, and
to keep close to their golden rule, drawn in
nature, but almost lost and smothered in the
rubbish and corruption of nature, but drawn
anew, by our Savior's hand, not only in his
gospel, but in the hearts of his real followers.
That which thou wouldst have others do to thee,
do thou unto them :—who, when they have
anything to transact, wherein is their broth-
er's interest, as well as their own, do in
their thoughts change places with him, set
him in their own room, and themselves in his,
and deal with them after that manner; who
think, What should I be willing to have done
to me, were I he 2 That same will I do to
him. Were I in that poor man's condition
who begs an alms, would I not rather have
some relief, than a churlish, or, at least, an
empty answer ? Were I he who buys, should
I not, and might I not justly and reasonably,
will to have it so, that no more be exacted of
me than the right and due price? Then, so
will I use him. How few are there that walk,
I say, by this rule ! And yet, all that do not
thus, are breakers of this commandment in
the sight of God.
How few, who are inviolable observers of
equity, and are truly liberal and bountiful an-
swerably to their power —who will some-
times on purpose bate a dish from their table,
or a lace from their garment, not to make
their stock greater, but to bestow on the poor :
who are truly desirous of the good and pros-
perity of others, and further it all they can
It is to be like God; this is the particular,
638
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
Matt. v. 45, wherein likeness to our heavenly
Father is pressed. And this is meant by
Homo homini Deus. Certainly, were we ac-
quainted with it, it is more true delight to be,
not only just, but liberal, than to possess
much. It is not to possess, but to be pos-
sessed by it, to have heaps, and no heart nor
power to use them. He who is thus, doth
not only defraud others, but himself; steals
from his own necessities, to sacrifice to his
god, his chest or bag. Quicquid omnibus ab-
stulit, sibi negat. When a man hath such a
sum, and though he hath use for it, dares not
break it, what is it better than if it were still
underground in the mine ! It is no more at
his service ; yea, so much the worse that he
is racked between plenty and want, between
having and not having it.
But the covetous and the prodigal sin
against this commandment: the covetous, by
unjust ways of gaining, and the unjust keep-
ing of what he hath gained, keeping it up
both from others and himself; and the prodi-
gal, by profuseness, making foolish wants to
himself, which drives him upon unjust ways
of supply, Turpiter amittens quod turpius
reparet, as Seneca speaks. Thus, he who is
prodigal, must be covetous too, and though
men think not so, these two vices which seem
so opposite, not only may, but do often dwell
together, and covetousness is prodigality’s
purveyor, being fire for it to feed it; for oth-
erwise it could not subsist, but would starve
within a while. Here, then, both avarice
and prodigality are condemned: only true
equity, and frugal and wise liberality, are
obedience to it.
The main causes of all unjust and illiberal
dealing, are these two : 1. Diffidence or dis-
trust of the Divine providence and goodness.
And 2. That IIAeovešta, that same amor scele-
ratus habendi, the fond desire of having
much.
1. When a man doth not fully trust God
with providing for him, and blessing him in
just and lawful ways, but apprehends want
unless he take some more liberty and elbow-
room, this makes him step now and then out
of the way, to catch at undue gain by fraud
and overreaching, or some such way. But
this is a most foolish course. This is to break
loose out of God's fatherly hand, and so to
forego all that we can look for from him, and
to take ways of our own ; to choose rather to
go a shifting for ourselves in the crooked and
accursed ways of unrighteousness, than to be
at his providing. Labor, therefore, for a fixed
belief of his wisdom, and goodness, and all-
sufficiency ; and then the greatest straits and
wants will not drive you to any indirect ways,
wherein you run from him, but will still
draw you nearer to himself, and there you
will stay and wait upon his hand till he sup-
ply you.
2. Desire of having much, or covetousness,
whether it be to hoard up or lavish out. But
this is a madness. This desire of having
much, is never cured by having much : it is
Bovaiºta, canina fames, an insatiable dog-
hunger.
That known determination of the moralist
was most true, that “To be truly rich, is not
to have much, but to desire little.” Labor,
then, not to desire much ; or rather, desire
much, desire to have the Lord for your por-
tion. Non est illud desiderium, TXeovečia, sed
Tavečia. That desire is not a grasping at much,
but at all. And if you indeed desire him, you
shall have him ; and if you have him, you can
not but be satisfied, for he is all. To him,
therefore, be all praise, honor, and glory, for
ever. Amen.
PRECEPT IX.
Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.
THE Apostle St. James, in that sharp but
most true censure of the tongue, might well
call it an unruly evil. There are but ten pre-
cepts or words of the law of God, and you
see, two of them, so far as concerns the out-
ward organ and vent of the sins there forbid-
den, are bestowed on it, tending, if not only,
yet mainly, to keep it in order; one in the
first table, and this other in the second ; as
being ready to fly out both against God and
man, if not thus bridled.
The end of this commandment is, to guard
the good name of men from injury, as the for-
mer doth his goods; this possession being no
less, yea, much more precious than the other:
and because the great robber and murderer
of a good name is the mischievous, detract-
ing tongue, acted by a malignant heart, it re-
quires in the heart a charitable tenderness of
the good name of our brethren ; and that will
certainly prove truth and charitable speech in
the tongue.
Though divines here usually speak of ly-
ing, in the general notion and extent of it,
and not amiss, being most of all exercised in
the kind here mentioned : yet, there be such
lies as may be more fitly reputed a breach of
some other commandment. And possibly the
sin of lying in general, as it is a lie, a dis-
crepancy of the speech from the mind, and so
a subverting of the Divine ordinance set in
nature, making that which he hath made the
interpreter of the mind, to be the disguiser
of the heart, and withal disregarding God as
the searcher of the heart, and sovereign wit-
ness of truth, and avenger of falsehood; I say,
thus, it may possibly be more proper to refer
it to another commandment, particularly to
the third. But it imports not much to be very
punctual in this. It is seldom or never that
one commandment is broken alone. Most
sins are complicate disobedience, and in some
sins, the breach of many at once is very ap-
parent. As to instance, in perjury, if it be to
testify a falsehood against our brethren, both
the third commandment and this ninth are vio-
lated at once; and if it be in such a thing as
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
639
toucheth his life, the sixth likewise suffers
with them.
This perjury, or false testimony in a public
judiciary way, is, we see, by the express
words and letter of the command, forbidden,
as the highest and most heinous wrong of
this kind. Ut testis falsi aut testimonium
falsi non dices aut respondebis. But, under
the name of this (as it is in the other com-
mandments), all the other kinds and degrees
of offence against our neighbor’s good name
are comprised.
1. All private ways of calumny and false
imputation.
2. All ungrounded and false surmises or
suspicions; all uncharitable construction of
others’ actions and carriage.
3. Strict remarking of the faults of others,
without any calling so to do, or honest inten-
tion of their good ; which appears, if, having
observed anything that of truth is reprovea-
ble, we seek not to reclaim them by secret
and friendly admonition, but passing by them-
selves, divulge it abroad to others. Ephes. iv.
15. We must not only speak the truth, but,
tn love. For this is a most foolish self-de-
ceit, to think that, because it is not forged,
but true, that thou speakest, this keeps thee
free of the commandment: no, thy false in-
tention and malice make it calumny and
falsehood in thee, although, for the matter
of it, what thou Sayest be most true. All thou
gainest by it, is, that thou dost tumble and
bemire thyself in the sin of another, and ma-
keth it possibly more thine than it is his own
who committed it ; for he, it may be, hath
some touch of remorse for it, whereas it is
evident thou delightest in it; and though thou
preface it with a whining, feigned regret and
semblance of pitying him, and add withal
some word of commending him in somewhat
else, this is but the gilding and sugaring the
pill to make men swallow it the more easily,
and thy bitter malice pass unperceived. They
who by their calling ought to watch over the
lives of others, must do it faithfully and dili-
gently, admonishing and rebuking privately ;
and where that prevails not, they may, yea,
they ought to do it more publicly; but all in
love, seeking nothing but the glory of God,
and the salvation of souls.
4. Easy hearing and entertaining of misre-
ports and detractions when others speak them.
Exod. xxiii. 1. This is that which maintains
and gives subsistence to calumny ; otherwise
it would starve and die of itself, if nobody
took it in and gave it lodging. When malice
pours it out, if our ears be shut against it, and
there be no vessel to receive it, it would fall
like water upon the ground, and could no
more be gathered up. But there is that same
busy humor that men have—it is very busy,
and yet the most have of it more or less—a
kind of delight, and contentment to hear evil
of others, unless it be of such as they affect,
to hear others slighted and disesteemed, that
they readily drinkin, not without some pleas-
ure, whatsoever is spoken of this kind. The
ear trieth the words, as Job says, as the mouth
tasteth meals; but certainly the most ears are
perverse and distempered in their taste, as
some kinds of palates are ; they can find
sweetness in sour calumny. But, because
men understand one another's diet in this,
that the most are so, this is the very thing
that keeps up the trade, makes backbiting
and detractions abound so in the world, and
verifies that known observation in the most,
that “The slanderer wounds three at once”—
himself, him he speaks of, and him that hears.
For this third, truly it is in his option to be
none of the number: if he will, he may shift
his part of the blow, by not believing the
slander ; yea, may beat it back again with
ease upon the slanderer himself by a check
or frown, and add that stroke of a repulse to
the wound of guiltiness he gives himself.
5. They offend, who seek in any kind, at
the expense of the good name and esteem of
others, to increase their own ; ea alient nomi-
nis jactura gradum sibi faciunt ad gloriam”
—out of others' ruins to make up themselves;
and who therefore pull down as much as they
can, and are glad to have others to help them
to detract from the repute of their brethren,
particularly any who are in likelihood to sur-
pass and obscure them ; and for this reason
incline always rather to hear and speak of
the imperfections and dispraise of others, than
to their advantage; and would willingly,
Ottoman-like, kill the good name of their
brethren, that theirs may reign alone.f This
is a vile disease, and such as can not be inci-
dent to any mind that is truly virtuous and
gracious. No, such need not this base, dis-
honest way to raise themselves, but are glad
to see virtue, and whatsoever is praiseworthy,
to flourish in whomsoever. These are lovers
of God indeed, and of his glory, and not their
own ; and therefore, as all he bestows on
themselves, they render back the honor of it
to him, so they are glad to see many enriched
with his best gifts. For seeing all good that
all have, belongs to God, as the sovereign
owner and dispenser, this contents and re-
joices his children when they see many par-
take of his bounty, for the more is his glory;
and as in love to their brethren, they are al-
ways willing to take notice of what is com-
mendable in them, and to commend it, so,
they do this the more willingly, because they
know that all praise of goodness at last ter-
minates and ends in God. As Solomon says
of the rivers, Unto the place whence they come,
thither they return.
6. They sin against this commandment,
who, although they noway wrong their neigh-
bors’ good name, yet are not careful to do their
* Sallust.
f The Rabbins frequently condemn this—HAMMITH
CABBED, &c. Qui honorat se er i inia socii sui,
non habet partem in seculo venturo. BEREs. RAB,
Item, qui per contemptum aliorum laudem suam quarit,
miserrimus est omnium hominum. Quis est honore dig-
nus' Qui honorat alios homines.—ABOTH., c. 4.
640
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
utmost to right it when it suffers, to remove
aspersions from them, and to clear them all
that may be. For this is here required, to de-
sire and delight in, and further the good
name of others, even as our own ; to look
most willingly on the fairest side of their ac-
tions, and take them in the best sense, and
be as inventive of favorable constructions (yet
without favoring vice), as malice is witty to
misinterpret to the worst; to observe the
commendable virtues of our brethren, and
pass by their failings; as many, like scurvy
flies, skip over what is sound in men, and
love to sit upon their sores.
It is lamentable to consider how much this
evil of mutual detraction and supplanting the
good name one of another, is rooted in man's
corrupt nature, and how it spreads and grows
in their conversation: as the Apostle St. Paul
cites it out of the psalmist, as the description
of our nature, Their throat is an open sepul-
chre ; they have deceitful tongues, and the
poison of asps is under their lips. Rom. iii.
13. Their throat an open sepulchre, full of
the bones, as it were, of others' good names
that they have devoured ; and, among other
their endowments, they are whisperers, back-
biters, despiteful, Rom. i. 30. But it is strange
that Christians should retain so much of these
evils, who profess themselves renewed, and
sanctified, and guided by the Spirit of God.
Consider, in your visits and discourses, if
something of this kind doth not entertain you
often, and lavish away that time you might
spend in mutual edification, abusing it to de-
scant upon the actions and life of others, in
such a way as neither concerns nor profits
us; taking an impertinent, foolish delight in
iuquiring and knowing how this party lives,
and the other.” This is a very common dis-
ease, as Nazianzen observes.f And thus men
are most strangers at home : have not leisure
to study, and know, and censure themselves,
they are so busied about others. It may be
there is not always a height of malice in their
discourses, but yet, by much babbling to no
purpose, they slide into idle detraction and
censure of others, beside their intention ; for,
£n multitude of words there wants not sin.
Prov. x. 9.
And the greatest part are so accustomed to
this way, that, if they be put out of it, they
must sit dumb and say nothing. There is, I
confess, a prudent observation of the actions
of others, a reading of men, as they call it,
and it may be, by a Christian, done with
Christian prudence and benefit; and there may
be, too, a useful way of men's imparting their
observation of this kind, one to another, con-
cerning the good and evil, the abilities more
or less, that they remark in the world; but
truly, it is hard to find such as can do this
* Curiosum genus ad cognoscendam vitam alienam,
desidiosum ad corrigendam suam.—August INE. Conf.
1. 10, cap. 3.
f 'Ovčv oira's #6v roſs dwóporous às rô XaXery rà
dXX:rpta.-NAZIANZEN. ORAT. 1
aright, and know they agree in their purpose
with honest, harmless minds, intending evil
to none, but good to themselves, and admit-
ting of nothing but what suits with this.
Among a throng of acquaintance, a man
shall, it may be, find very few by whose con-
versation he may be really bettered, and who
return him some benefit for the expense of his
time in their society. Howsoever, beware
of such as delight in vanity and lying and
defaming of others, and withdraw yourselves
from them, and set a watch before your own
lips. Learn to know the fit season of silence
and speech ; for that is a very great point of
wisdom, and will help very much to the ob-
serving of this precept, to give your tongue to
be governed by wisdom and piety. Let it
not be as a thorny bush, pricking and hurting
those who are about you, nor altogether a
barren tree, yielding nothing; but a fruitful
tree, a tree of life to your neighbor, as Solo-
mon calls the tongue of the righteous. Prov.
xv. 4.
And let your hearts be possessed of those
two excellent graces, humility and charity.
Then will your tongue not be in danger of
hurting your neighbor; for it is pride and
self-love, makes men delight in that. Those
are the idols to which men make sacrifice of
the good name and reputation of others. The
humble man delights in self-disesteem, and
is glad to see his brethren’s name flourish ; it
is pleasing music to him to hear the virtues
of others acknowledged and commended, and
a harsh discord to his lowly thoughts to hear
any thing of his own. And the other, charity,
thinks no evil, is so far from casting false
aspersions on any, that it rather casts a veil
upon true failings and blemishes: Love covers
a multitude of sins. It is like God's love that
begets it, which covers all the sins of his own
children.
PRECEPT X.
Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's house, thou shalt
not covet thy neighbor's wife, nor his man-servant,
nor his maid-servant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor
anything that is thy ueighbor’s.
IT is a known truth, that there is no sound
cure of diseases without a removal of their
inward cause. Therefore, this second table
of the law, containing the rule of equity for
the redress of unrighteousness in men's deal-
ing one with another, doth, in this last pre-
cept of it, strike at the very root of that un-
righteousness, the corrupt desires and evil
concupiscence of the heart; Thou shalt not
CO2)et.
The Romish division of this into two, is so
grossly absurd, and so contrary both to the
voice of antiquity and reason, that it needs not
stay us much to show it such. The thing
forbidden is one, Thou shalt not covet ; and if
the several things not to be coveted, divide
it, it will be five or six as well as two. Though
it be Peter's pretended sword make the divis-
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
641
ion, yet, certainly, it is not Paul’s 6000 rouetv,
not a dividing of the word aright, but a cut-
ting it, as it were, beside the joint. The
truth is, they would never have mistook so
far. as to have offered at this division, were
they not driven upon it by an evil necessity
of their own making: because they have quite
cut out the second, they are forced, for making
up the number, to cut this in two. This is
but to salve a first wrong with a second ; it is
vitium prima concoctionis quod non corrigitur
tn secunda, as they speak: having smothered
one commandment, they would have this di-
vided, as the harlot the living child.
The subject of this commandment, that
which it forbids, is not, I confess, original sin
in its nature and whole latitude ; no, nor all
kinds of sinful motions immediately arising
from it ; but such as concern human things,
belonging to this second table as their rule:
as is clear in all the particulars named in the
commandment, and the general word which
closes it, including the rest and all other things
of that kind. Nor anything that is thy neigh-
bor's. For is it needful (with others) for the
distinguishing of this precept from the rest,
to call this concupiscence here forbidden, only
the first risings of it in the heart without con-
sent, whereas the other commandments forbid
the consent of the will. I conceive there is
no danger to say, that both are forbidden, both
in this and in the rest, but in this more ex-
pressly.
For what great necessity is there of such
subtile distinguishing 2 may not this be suffi-
cient, that what is included in the other com-
mandments duly understood, it pleased the
Divine wisdom to deliver in this last more
expressly, that none might pretend ignorance;
and so to provide for the more exact obser-
vance of justice and equity among men in
their actions, by a particular law given to the
heart, the fountain of them, regulating it in
its dispositions and motions, even the very
first stirrings of it, which do most discover its
disposition ?
And that this is no tautology, nor a super-
fluous labor, unsuiting the exquisite brevity
of this law, we shall easily confess, if we con-
sider that natural hypocrisy and self-indul-
gence that is in men, which makes them still
less regard the temper and actings of their
hearts, than their outward carriage, notwith-
standing this express commandment concern-
ing it. How much more would they have
thought their thoughts, as least such as proceed
not to full consent, exempted from the law, if
there had been nothing spoken of them, but
they only included in the other precepts We
know how the Doctors of Rome extenuate the
matter, and how favorable their opinion is in
this point, notwithstanding this clear voice
of the law of God condemning all concupis-
cence. The apostle St. Paul confesses in-
genuously his own short-sightedness, though
a Pharisee instructed in the law, that unless
the law had said, Thou shalt not lust, he had
not found it out in the other commandments,
nor known the sinfulness of it. Rom. vii. 7.
This all-wise Lawgiver knew both the blind-
ness of man's mind, and the hypocrisy and
deceitfulness of his heart, and therefore, takes
away all pretext, and turns him out of all ex-
cuse, giving this last commandment express-
ly concerning the heart, and so teaching him
the exact and spiritual nature of all the rest.
This commandment pursues the iniquity of
man into its beginning and source. Our Savior
calls the evil heart, an evil treasure ; it is an
inexhaustible treasure of evil, yea, it dimin-
isheth not at all, but increaseth rather by
spending ; the acting of sin confirming and
augmenting the corrupt habit of it in the heart.
Out of this evil treasure issue forth those
pollutions that defile the whole man—evil
thoughts, murders, adulteries, &c. Matthew
XV. 19.
It is not proper here to speak at large of
the first motions of sin in general, and of the
way to distinguish (if any such can be given
as certain) the injections of Satan, evil thoughts
darted in by him, and such as spring immedi-
ately from that corruption which lodgeth
within our own breasts; and other things
that concern the subject: only, this we ought
to observe as pertinent and useful, that if we
did consider the purity of the law of God and
the impurity of our own hearts, the continual
risings of sinful concupiscences within us, that
stain us and all our actions, this would lay us
a great deal lower in our own opinion than
usually we are. The law is spiritual, but I
am carnal, sold under sin, says the apostle.
Rom. vii. 14.
Men think it is well with them, and they
please themselves to think so, and glory in it,
that their whole life has been outwardly un-
blameable, and, possibly, free from the secret
commission of gross sins. But would they,
who are thus most spotless, look a little deeper
inward upon the incessant workings of vain,
sinful thoughts, which at least touch upon
the affection, and stir it somewhat ; and con-
sider their hearts naturally like boiling pots,
still sending up of this scum of evil concupis-
cence, and, as a fountain casteth forth her
water, as Jeremiah speaks, this bitter poison-
spring still streaming forth, and even in the
best, not fully dried up :* certainly the due
sight of these would abate much of those gay
thoughts which any can have of themselves,
and, from the best and most sensible, would
draw out the apostle's word, O wretched man
that I am, who shall deliver me 2 There is
nothing that doth more certainly both humble.
and grieve the godly man, than the sense of
this ; and because till then, it will not cease
* Tres sunt transgressiones, a quibus homo nullo die,
inquiunt Tahmudici, nunquam in hac vita liberabitur
cogitationes peccati; attentio orationis (i.e. quod nun--
quam satis attento per omnem attentionem orare possit);
et lingua mala, [BAvA. BoscA.f. 1342.] There are
three transgressions, say the Talmudists, from which
a man can no day ever in this life be free; the thoughts
of sin, wanderings in prayer, and an evil tongue.
81
G42
EXPOSITION OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
to vex him, nothing makes him more long for
the day of his full deliverance, and makes him
cry, Usquequo, Domine, usquequo 2 O, how
long, O Lord, how long 2
We are taught by this commandment, that
great point of spiritual prudence, to observe
the beginnings and conception of sin within
us, and to crush it then when it is weakest,
before it pass on in its usual gradation, as the
Apostle St. James makes it, James i. 14, 15.
If it draw us away but to hear it, it will entice
us, take us with delight; and then it will, by
that, work us to consent, and having so con-
ceived, it will bring forth sin, and sin finished
will bring forth death.
Again, because, as we see, the very con-
cupiscence itself, though it proceed no further,
pollutes and leaves a stain behind it ; this
calls for our diligence, to seek that renovation
and habitual purity of heart infused from
above, and the daily increase of it, being be-
gun, that may free us more and more from
that depraved concupiscence and the defile-
ments of it. Think it not enough to cleanse
the tongue and the hands, but above all, en-
deavor for cleaness of heart, and that will
keep all the rest clean. See Jam. iv. 8. Jere-
miah iv. 14.
The concupiscence particularly here forbid-
den, we see, is an inordinate desire, or the
least beginning of such a desire, of those out-
ward things which belong not to us, Thy
neighbor’s house, &c. For all breach of the
other commandments of this second table,
have their rise and beginning from such a
desire ; therefore, this is set last, as the hedge
to guard all the rest from violation. For cer-
tainly, he that flees the least motion of a
wrongful thought, will never proceed to any
injurious word or action. So then, this com-
mandment is broken by the least envious look
upon any good of others, or the least bendings
of mind after it for Ourselves; and by that
common mischief of self-love, as the very
thing which gives life to all such undue de-
sires; and by that common folly of discontent
at our own estate, which begets a wishing for
that of others; and this, though it be not
joined with an express desire of their loss or
hurt, yet, because it is the seed and principle
of injustice, therefore it is sinful, and here
forbidden.
And, on the eontrary, much of the obser-
vance of this precept lies in that atrápketa, that
contentedness and satisfaction of mind with
Qur own estate, which will surely keep us
free from this disordered coveting. There-
fore, chiefly labor to have that wise and sweet
contentation dwelling within you, and banish
all contrary thoughts, by these and other such
like considerations:—
1. If you do indeed believe that it is the
sovereign hand of God that divides to the na-
tions their inheritance, as Moses speaks, Deut.
xxxii. 8, and so, likewise, to particular men,
that he carves to every one their condition
and place in the world, you can not but think
he hath done it more wisely than men could
do for themselves. They could never agree
upon it: every man would think it best for
himself to be in the best and highest condi-
tion; and that is not possible. But it is best
for the making up of the universe, that there
be those differences God hath made, and, from
the highest to the lowest, he hath set each
one in that station he thought good. There
is not a common soldier in an army, but would
wish to be a commander, and so, if each might
have his will, all would command, and none
obey. The like holds in masters and servants,
and in all such other differences. So then,
seeing those differences are in the world, and
seeing it wholly belongs to him who rules the
world to dispose of them, our part is no other
than contentedly to accept of his disposal,
and to serve him in the station where he hath
Set U.S.
2. If you be such as have evidence you are
the children of God, then you know, he doth
not only allot your condition wisely, but with-
al, in peculiar love and favor. He perfectly
knows what outward estate is particularly
fittest for you, and will conduce most to your
highest good, and will not miss to give you
that, and no other. And certainly it is true
in matter of estate, as of our garments, not
that which is largest, but that which fits us
best, is best for us.
3. Consider, that no outward condition hath
contentment in it of itself: this must arise
from somewhat within. Men see the great
attendance, and train of servants that wait up-
on princes and other great persons, but they
see not the train of cares and perplexing
thoughts that many times go along too, and
are more inseparable attendants than any of
the rest: they see their fine clothes and state-
ly buildings, but they see not the secret mal-
contents and vexations that dwell with them,
and are the very linings of the rich apparel.
Light things often discontent them. Look at
their very pastimes and recreations; they are
sometimes as much troubled with disappoint-
ment in those, as the poor man is wearied with
his labor. It was not a much greater cross that
vexed Haman : all his advancement availed
not without Mordecai's courtesy. A strange
disease, that he felt more the pain of anoth-
er man’s stiff knee, than the contentment of
all his honors' But whoso knew their deep-
er vexations, would admire them less, when
crossed in their ambition or friends, or the
husband and wife not finding that harmony
of dispositions and affections. Few, or none,
but have something that a man would wil-
lingly leave out, if he were for his wish to be
in their condition. The shorter and surer
way, then, to contentment, is to be contented-
ly what he is.
4. Consider those who are below you, and
in a far meaner condition, and by that argue
yourself, not only to contentment, but to
thankfulness. We pervert all: when we
look below us, it raises our pride; and when
A SHORT CATECHISM.
643.
above us, it casts us into discontent. Might
we not as well, contrariwise, draw humility
out of the one, and contentment out of the
other ?
5. Seek to be assured that God is yours.
Then, whatsoever others possess, you will be
sure not to covet it, nor envy them. Those
who have most, you will pity, if they want
him; and those who have him, you will have
no envy at them for sharing with you, but
love them the more.
For that lnfinite Good
is enough for all that choose him ; and none
do so, but those whom he hath first chosen
in eternal love.
A S H 0 R T C A T E (; H IS M,
Question. WHAT is naturally every man's
chief desire?
Answer. To be happy.
Q. Which is the way to true happiness?
A. True religion.
Q. What is true religion ?
A. The true and lively knowledge of the
Only true God, and of him whom he hath
sent, Jesus Christ.
Q. Whence is this knowledge to be learned ?
A. All the works of God declare his being,
and his glory; but the clearer knowledge of
himself, and his Son Jesus Christ, is to be
learned from his own word, contained in the
Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testa-
Ynent.
Q. What do those scriptures teach us con-
cerning God?
A. That he is one infinite, eternal Spirit,
most wise, and holy, and just and merciful,
and the all-powerful Maker, and Ruler of the
world.
Q. What do they further teach us concern-
ing him 2
A. That he is Three in One, and One in
Three, the Father, the Son, and the Holy
Ghost.
Q. What will that lively knowledge of
God effectually work in us?
A. It will cause us to believe in him, and
to love him above all things, even above our-
selves, to adore and worship him, to pray to
him, and to praise him, and exalt him with
all our might, and to yield up ourselves to the
obedience of all his commandments, as hav-
ing both made us, and made himself known
to us for that very end.
Rehearse, then, the articles of our belief.
I believe in God the Father, &c.
Rehearse the Ten Commandments of the
Law, which are the rules of our obedience,
and so, the trial of our love.
A. God spake these words, I am the Lord
thy God, &c.
Q. What is the summary our Savior hath
given us of this Law Ż
A. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with
all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with
all thy mind, and thy neighbor as thyself.
Q. What is the effectual means of obtain-
ing increase of faith and power to obey, and
generally, all graces and blessings at the hand
of God 2
A. Prayer.
Rehearse that most excellent and perfect
prayer that our Savior hath taught us.
A. Our Father, which art in heaven, &c.
Q. In what estate was man created ?
A. After the image of God in holiness and
righteousness.
Q. Did he continue in that estate 3
A. No. But by breaking the command-
ment which his Maker gave him, eating of
the fruit of that tree which was forbidden
him, he made himself and his whole posteri-
ty subject to sin and death.
Q. Hath God left man in this misery, with-
out all means and hopes of recovery 3
A. No. For he so loved the world, that
he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoev-
er believeth on him should not perish, but
have everlasting life.
Q. What is then the great doctrine of the
gospel ?
A. That same coming of the Son of God in
the flesh, and giving himself to the death of
the cross, to take away the sin of the world,
and his rising again from the dead, and as-
cending into glory. *
Q. What doth that gospel mainly teach
and really persuade all the followers of it
to do 2
A. It teacheth them to deny ungodliness
and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, and
righteously, and godly in this present world.
Q. How hath our Lord Jesus himself ex-
pressed the great and necessary duty of all
his disciples 3
A. That they deny themselves, and take
up their cross, and follow him.
Rehearse then some of the chief points
wherein we are to follow our Lord Jesus
Christ.
A. 1. To surrender ourselves wholly to our
heavenly Father, and his good pleastºre in
all things, even in the sharpest afflictions and
sufferings: and not at all to do our own will,
or design our own praise or advantage, but
644
A SHORT CATECHISM.
wn all things to do his will and intend his
glory. .
2. To be spotless, and chaste, and holy, in
our whole conversation.
Add a third.
3. To be meek and lowly, not to slander or
reproach, to mock or despise any ; and if any
do so to us, to bear it patiently, yea to re-
joice in it.
A fourth.
4. Unfeignedly to love our Christian breth-
ren, and to be charitably and kindly affected
toward all men, even to our enemies, for-
giving them, yea, praying for them, and re-
turning them good for evil; to comfort the
afflicted, and relieve the poor, and to do good
for all, as we are able.
Q. Is it necessary that all Christians live
according to these rules 2
A. So absolutely necessary, that they who
do not so in some good measure, whatsoever
they profess, do not really believe in Jesus
Christ, nor have any portion in him.
Q. What visible seals hath our Savior an-
nexed to that gospel, to confirm our faith, and
to convey the grace of it to us?
A. The two Sacraments of the New Testa-
ment, Baptism, and the Lord's Supper.
Q. What doth Baptism signify and seal 2
A. Our washing from sin, and our new
birth in Jesus Christ.
Q. What doth the Lord's Supper signify
and seal 2
A. Our spiritual nourishment and growth
in him, and transforming us more and more
into his likeness, by commemorating his
death, and feeding on his body and blood,
under the figures of bread and wine.
Q. What is required to make fit and wor-
thy communicants of the Lord's Supper ?
A. Faith in Our Lord Jesus Christ, and re-
pentance toward God, and charity toward all
Iſleſł.
Q. What is faith in our Lord Jesus 2
A. It is the grace by which we both be-
lieve his whole doctrine, and trust in him as
the Redeemer and Savior of the world, and
entirely deliver up ourselves to him, to be
taught and saved and ruled by him, as our
Prophet, Priest, and King.
Q. What is repentance?
A. It is a godly sorrow for sin, and a
hearty and real turning from all sin unto
God.
Q. What is the final portion of unbeliev-
ing and unrepentant sinners?
A. The everlasting torments of devils.
Q. What is the final portion of them who
.# repent and believe and obey the gos-
el 2
A. The blessed life of angels, in the vision
of God for ever.
A Question for young Persons, before their
first admission to the Lord's Supper.
Q. Whereas you were, in your infancy,
baptized into the name of Jesus Christ, do
you now, upon distinct knowledge, and with
a firm belief, and pious affection, own that
Christian faith of which you have given an
account, and withal, your baptismal vow of
renouncing the service of Satan, and the
world, and the lusts of the flesh, and of de-
voting yourself to God in all holiness of life?
A. I do sincerely and heartily declare my
belief of that faith and own my engagement
to that holy vow, and resolve, by the assist-
ance of God's grace, to continue in the care-
ful observance of it all my days.
THE OL 0 GICAL LECTURES.
g===ºº-ºº-e
PREFACE
BY -
THE PUBLISHER OF THE LATIN EDITION.
To THE READER,
“WHAT is grand and substantial,” says
Quinctilian, “pleases long; while that which
is only neat and handsome, charms for a
while, but soon cloys.” . Now, what can be
imagined more grand and substantial, than to
contemplate the great Creator of the uni-
verse, in his visible works; to view, in this
Yast volume, which lies always open, his in-
finite power, wisdom, and goodness, and ad-
mire the instances thereof, that appear al-
ways new and astonishing? Again, what
can be more agreeable and sublime, than
turning our eyes to the great mysteries of
revealed religion, to read with wonder and
delight what is contained in the sacred Scrip-
tures, concerning the Savior and Redeemer
of the human race from the dreadful gulf of
death and misery into which they had fallen;
to review with attention what is therein dis-
covered, with regard to our highest happi-
ness, the rewards of virtue, and the punish-
ment of an impious life; and to have these
important matters deeply impressed upon the
heart? These truths, however great and in-
teresting, are laid before thee, pious and
Christian reader, in these theological disserta-
tions; where thou wilt find them deduced
with great learning, explained with clearness
and accuracy, and confirmed by powerful ar-
guments. For our author, now in heaven,f
who, while he lived, was equally remarka-
ble for learning and piety, never used to
stray beyond the verge of this divine system.
That these remains of his were the sacred
lectures he read in the public hall of the uni-
versity of Edinburgh, while he was principal
of that university, will admit of no manner
of doubt: there are a great many still alive,
who can attest this truth ; as they were
themselves present at these lectures, to their
great satisfaction and improvement. They
all heard them, some took notes of them;
and it is to be hoped, some had the substance
of them powerfully impressed upon their
hearts. To these I appeal, and to them, I
doubt not, this work will be very acceptable;
since those instructions which gave so much
* Quae solida et ampla sunt din placent; quae au-
ten lepida, et concinna, paululum quidem mulcent,
sed citó satiant. Fab. Quint.
f'Ouakapurns.
pleasure when heard but once, and that in a
cursory manner, they may now have recourse
to as often as they please; they may read
them at their leisure, and draw from them
matter of most delightful meditation. And,
to be sure, those who have the least divine
disposition of mind, will make it the princi-
pal business of their life, and their highest
pleasure to stray through those delightful
gardens abounding with such sweet and fra-
grant flowers, and refresh their hearts with
the celestial honey that may be drawn from
them: nor is there any ground to fear that
such supplies will fail; for how often soever
you have recourse to them, you will always
find them blooming, full of juice, and swelled
with the dew of heaven: nay, when by deep
and continued meditation, you imagine you
have pulled the finest flower, it buds forth
again, and what Virgil writes concerning his
fabulous golden bough is, in strictest truth,
applicable in this case:—
Uno avulso, non deficit alter,
Aureus.
The lectures I now present thee with, I
caused to be copied out fair from a manu-
script in the author's own handwriting; which
was a work that required great care and at-
tention, on account of the blots and interlin-
eations of that original manuscript; for the
author had written them in haste, and with-
out the least thought of ever publishing them.
This done, at the desire of a great many, I
got them printed, and now lay them before
the public, in the same order in which they
were read, as far as can be recollected from
circumstances.
You must not expect to find in these truly
sacred lectures, the method commonly used
in theological systems; for while our rever-
end author clearly explains the doctrines of
religion, he intermixes to excellent purpose
the principles of piety, and while he enlight-
ens the understanding, he at the same same
time warms the heart.
Being to treat of religion, he uses a practi-
cal method, which is most suitable to his
subject, and begins with happiness, that being
the scope and design of religion, as well as
the ultimate end of human life. He begins
with an explanation of happiness in general,
on which he treats at some length; then
proceeds to consider the happiness of man,
which may be called perfect and truly divine,
as it has for its object the infinitely blessed
and perfect Being who created him, and for-
646
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES
mally consists in the beatific vision and frui-
tion of Him, which is reserved in heaven for
those who by faith are travelling through this
earth, toward that blessed country. He adds,
with great propriety, that happiness, so far
as it is compatible with this wretched life of
sorrows, consists in true religion, and in reli-
gion alone; not only as it is the way which
leads directly to that perfect happiness re-
served in heaven; but because it is itself of
Divine original, and, in reality, the beginning
of that very happiness which is to be perfect-
ed in the life to come.
He observes, that the doctrine of religion
is most justly called theology, as it has the
most high God for its author, object, and end.
He suggests many excellent thoughts con-
cerning the Divine existence, and reasons
from the common consent of nations, from the
creatures we see about us, and from what we
feel and experience within ourselves, as all
these so loudly proclaim the being of God:
but the argument taken from the harmony
and beautiful order of the universe, he prose-
cutes at great length; and from this consid-
eration, which is attended with greater evi-
dence than all the demonstrations of the sci-
ences, he clearly proves the existence of an
eternal, independent Being.
With regard to the nature of God, he ad-
vances but little, and with great caution ; for
concerning the Supreme Being he thought it
dangerous even to speak truth; but is very
earnest and diffuse in his exhortations to
make the wisdom, power, and goodness of
God, that shine forth with great lustre in all
his works, the subject of our constant and
most serious meditation. As to the unfath-
omable depth of his eternal decrees, he was
greatly pleased with that expression of
Augustin, “Let others dispute, I will ad-
mire.”% *
Among his works, the first is that vast and
stupendous one, the primitive creation of all
things, which, besides the infallible testimo-
ny of the inspired oracles, our author, by a
concise, but clear dissertation on the subject,
proves quite consonant and agreeable to rea-
son. He then treats of man, of his original
integrity, and the most unhappy fall that
Soon followed. But to this most lamentable
story he subjoins another as happy and en-
couraging as the other is moving, I mean, the
admirable scheme of Divine love for the sal-
vation. of sinners. A glorious and blessed
method, that to the account of the most
shocking misery subjoins the doctrine of in-
comparable mercy " . Man, forsaking God,
falls into the miserable condition of devils;
God, from whom he revolted, determines to
extricate him, by his powerful hand, out of
this misery; and that this might be the more
wonderfully effected, God himself becomes
man. “This is the glory of man, by such
means raised from his woful state this the
wonder of angels, and this the sum and sub-
* Alii disputent, ego mirabor.
stance of all miracles united in one ſ”* The
word was made flesh ! He who died as man,
as God rose again, and having been seen on
earth, returns to heaven, whence he came.
On each of these he advances a few thoughts
that are weighty and serious, but, at the
same time pleasing and agreeable.
To these lectures, I have added some ex-
hortations by our author, to the candidates
for the degree of master of arts, delivered at
the annual solemnity held in the university
for that purpose ; together with his medita-
tions on Psalms the 4th, 32d, and 130th ;f be-
cause I was unwilling that any of the works
of so great a man should continue in obscuri-
ty, to be devoured by moths and bookworms,
especially one calculated for forming the
morals of mankind, and for the direction of
life. For in these meditations, he exhorts
and excites the youth under his care, not by
labored oratory and pompous expressions, but
by powerful eloquence, earnest entreaties, and
solid arguments, to the love of Christ, purity
of life, and contempt of the world.
But what will all this signify to thee,
reader, if thy mind is carried away with
childish folly, or the wild rage of passions, or
even if thou art still laboring under a stupid
negligence of the means of grace, and uncon- .
cerned about eternal happiness and thy im-
mortal soul? I doubt not, however, but these
truly divine essays will fall into the hands of
Some, who are endued with a better disposi-
tion of mind ; nor are we to despair of the
rest, “for the Father of spirits liveth still,
and he hath his seat in heaven, who instructs
the hearts of men on this earth.”f May,
therefore, the greatest and best of Beings
grant, that these academical exercises may
have happy effects' And that our heavenly
Father would second these means with his
all-powerful grace, shall be, while he lives,
the humble and ardent prayer of him,
Who earnestly desire thy salvation,
JA. FALL.
LECTURE I.
INTRODUCTION.
WITH little strength I undertake a great
work, or rather, with the least abilities I
venture upon a task which is of all others the
greatest and most important. Among the
various undertakings of men, can an instance
be given, of one more sublime than an in-
tention to form the human mind anew, after
the Divine image 2 Yet it will, I doubt not,
be universally acknowledged, that this is the
* Hic hominis extanto dedecore resurgentis honos,
hic angelorum stupor, hoc miraculorum omnium com:
pendium ! e - º
f These were likewise written in Latin, and have
been translated.
f Vivit enim spirituum pater, et cathedram habet
in coelo, qui corda docet in terris.
INTRODUCTION.
647
true end and design, not only of ministers in
their several congregations, but also of pro-
fessors of divinity in schools. And though, in
Inost respects, the ministerial office is evi-
dently superior to that of professors of theol-
ogy in colleges, in one respect the other seems
to have the preference, as it is, at least for
the most part, the business of the former to
instruct the common sort of men, the igno-
rant and illiterate ; while it is the work of
the latter to season with heavenly doctrine
the minds of select societies of youth, who
have had a learned education, and are devo-
ted to a studious life; many of whom, it is
to be hoped, will, by the Divine blessing, be-
come preachers of the same salutary doc-
trine themselves. And surely this ought to
be a powerful motive with all those who, by
the Divine dispensation, are employed in such
a work, to exert themselves with the greater
life and spirit in the discharge of their duty;
especially when they consider that those
Christian instructions and seeds of true piety,
which they instil into the tender minds of
their pupils, will by them be spread far and
wide, and in due time, conveyed, as it were,
by so many canals and aqueducts, to many
parts of the Lord's vineyard. Plutarch em-
ploys an argument of this kind, to prevail
with the philosophers to exert themselves in
the instruction of princes and great men,
rather than with a haughty Sulienness to
avoid their company; “For thus,” says he,
“you will find a short way to be useful to ma-
ny.” And to be sure, he that conveys the
principles of virtue and wisdom into the
minds of the lower classes of men, or the il-
literate, whatever progress his disciples may
make, employs his time and talents only for
the advantage of his pupils; but he that
forms the minds of magistrates and great
men, or such as are intended for high and ex-
alted stations, by improving one single per-
son, becomes a benefactor to large and nu-
merous societies. Every physician of generous
principles, as Plutarch expresses it ſpºokºos],
would have an uncommon ambition to cure
an eye intended to watch over many persons,
and convey the sense of seeing to numbers ;
and a musical instrument-maker would, with
uncommon pleasure, exert his skill in per-
fecting a harp, if he knew that it was to be
employed by the hands of Amphion, and by
the force of its music, to draw stones togeth-
er for building the walls of Thebes. A
learned and ingenious author, alluding to
this fable, and applying it to our present pur-
pose, calls professors of theology in schools,
makers of harps for building the walls of a
far more famed and beautiful city, meaning
the heavenly Jerusalem, in such a manner,
that the stones of this building being truly,
and without a fable, living, and charmed by
the pleasant harmony of the gospel, come of
their own accord to take their places in the
wall.
I am not so little acquainted with myself,
as to entertain the least hope of success in so
great a work by my own strength and abili-
ties; but, while I humbly depend upon the
Divine goodness and favor, I have no reason
to despair; for in the hand of Omnipotence,
all instruments are alike. Nor can it be
questioned that He, who made all things out
of nothing, can produce any change he plea-
ses in his creatures that are already made:
He who gives Zonv, kai ävony, kai javra, life and
breath, and all things, can easily strengthen
the weak, and give riches in abundance to
the poor and needy. Our emptiness only
serves to lay us open to, and attract the ful-
ness of Him “who fills all things, and is
over all; who gives wisdom to the mind, and
prevents its irregular sallies.”
Under his auspices, therefore, young gen-
tlemen, we are to aspire to true and saving
wisdom, and to try to raise ourselves above
this sublunary world. For it is not my in-
tention to perplex you with curious questions.
and lead you through the thorny paths of
disputation ; but, if I had any share of that
excellent art, it would be my delight to di-
rect your way, through the easy and pleasant
paths of righteousness, to a life of endless
felicity, and be myself your companion in
that blessed pursuit. I would take pleasure
to kindle in your souls the most ardent de-
sires, and fervent love of heavenly things;
and to use the expression of a great divine,
add “wings to your souls, to snatch them
away from this world, and restore them to
God.” For, if I may be allowed to speak
with freedom, most part of the motions that
are treated of in theological schools, that are
taught with great pomp and Ostentation, and
disputed with vast bustle and noise, may pos-
sibly have the sharpness of thorns; but they
have also their barrenness: they may prick
and tear, but they can afford no solid nour-
ishment to the minds of men. No man ever
gathered grapes off thorns, nor figs off this-
tles. “To what purpose,” saith A Kempis,
“dost thou reason profoundly concerning the
Trinity, if thou art without humility, and
thereby displeasest that Trinity ?” And St.
Augustine, upon the words of Isaiah, I am
the Lord that teacheth thee to profit, observes
with great propriety, that the prophet here
mentions utility in opposition to subtilty.f
Such are the principles I would wish to com-
municate to you ; and it is my earnest desire
and fervent prayer, that, while I, according to
my measure of strength, propose them to
your understanding, He who sits in heaven,
yet condescends to instruct the hearts of men
on this earth, may effectually impress them
upon your minds.
But that you may be capable of this su-
pernatural light and heavenly instruction, it
is, first of all, absolutely necessary, that your
minds be called off from foreign objects; and
* Quorsum alta de Trinitate disputare, si careas
humilitate, et sic Trinitate displiceas?
f Utilia non subtilia.
648
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
turned in upon themselves; for, as long as
your thoughts are dispersed and scattered in
pursuit of vanity and insignificant trifles, he
that would lay before them the principles and
precepts of this spiritual wisdom, would com-
mit them, like the sybil's prophecies, that
were written on loose leaves of trees, to the
mercy of the inconstant winds, and thereby
render them entirely useless. It is certainly
a matter of great difficulty, and requires un-
common art, to fix the thoughts of men, es-
pecially young men and boys, and turn them
in upon themselves. We read in the para-
ble of the gospel concerning the prodigal
son, that, first of all, he came to himself, and
then returned to his father. It is certainly a
very considerable step toward conversion to
God, to have the mind fixed upon itself, and
disposed to think seriously of its own imme-
diate concerns; which the pious St. Bernard
excellently expresses in this prayer: “May
I,” says he, “return from external objects to
my own inward concerns, and from inferior
objects rise to those of a superior nature.”
I should look upon it as no small happiness,
if, out of this whole society, I could gain but
one, but wish earnestly I could prevail with
many, and still more ardently that I could
send you all away, fully determined to en-
tertain more serious and secret thoughts
than ever you had before, with regard to your
immortal state and eternal concerns. But
how vain are the thoughts of men . What a
darkness overclouds their minds ºf It is the
great complaint of God concerning his peo-
ple, that they have not a heart to understand.
It is at once the great disgrace and misery of
mankind, that they live without forethought.
That brutish thoughtlessness, pardon the ex-
pression, or, to speak more intelligibly, want
of consideration, is the death and ruin of
souls. And the ancients observe, with great
truth and justice that, “a thoughtful mind is
the spring and source of every good thing.”f
It is the advice of the psalmist, that we
should converse much with ourselves: an ad-
vice, indeed, which is regarded by few; for the
greatest part of mankind are nowhere greater
strangers than at home. But it is my earnest
request to you, that you would be intimately
acquainted with yourselves, and as becomes
persons devoted to a studious life, be much
at home, much in your own company, and
very often engaged in serious conversation
with yourselves. Think gravely, “To what
purpose do I live 2 Whither am I going 2"
Ask thyself, hast thou any fixed and deter-
mined purpose, any end that thou pursuest
with steadfastness 2|| “The principles I have
embraced under the name of the Christian
religion, the things I have so often heard
about a future state and life, and death eter-
* Ab exterioribus ad interiora redeam, et ab infe-
rioribus ad superiora ascendam.
f O vanas hominum mentes J O pectora caeca
# Intellectus cogitabundus principium omnis boni.
| Est aliquid quo tendis et in quid dirigis arcum?
nal, are they true or false ?” If they are true,
as we all absolutely profess to believe they
are, then, to be sure, the greatest and most
important matters of this world are vain and
even less than vanity itself: all our knowl-
edge is but ignorance, our riches poverty, our
pleasure bitterness, and our honors vile and
dishonorable. How little do those men know
who are ambitious of glory, what it really is,
and how to be attained ' Nay, they eagerly
catch at the empty shadow of it, while they
avoid and turn their backs upon that glory
which is real, substantial, and everlasting.
The happiness of good men in the life to
come, is not only infinitely above all our ex-
pressions, but even beyond our most enlarged
thoughts. By comparing, however, great
things with small, we attain some faint no-
tions of these exalted and invisible blessings,
from the earthly and visible enjoyments of
this world. In this respect, even the Holy
Scriptures descend to the weakness of our ca-
pacities, and as the Hebrews express it, “The
law of God speaks the language of the chil-
dren of men.” They speak of this celestial
life, under the representations of a heritage,
of riches, of a kingdom, and a crown, but
with uncommon epithets, and such as are by
no means applicable to earthly glory or opu-
lence, however great. It is an inheritance,
but one that is uncorrupted, undefiled, and
that fadeth not away; a kingdom, but one that
can never be shaken, much ſess ruined, which
can never be said of the thrones of this sublu-
nary world, as evidently appears from the his-
tories of all nations, and our own recent expe-
rience. Here, ye sons of Adam, a covetous
and ambitious race, here is room for a lauda-
ble avarice; here are motives to excite your
ambition, and, at the same time, the means
of satisfying it to the full. But it must be ac-
knowledged, that the belief of these things is
far from being common. What a rare attain-
ment is faith, seeing that among the prodi-
gious crowds of those who profess to believe
in this world, one might justly cry out—
“Where is a true believer to be found 2’’
That man shall never persuade me that he
believes the truth and certainty of heavenly
enjoyments, who cleaves to this earth, nay,
who does not scorn and despise it, with all
its baits and allurements, and employ all
his powers, as well as his utmost industry,
to obtain these immense and eternal bles-
sings.
Nor is there anything in the way to these
enjoyments that can deter you from it, unless
holiness in heart and life appear to be a heavy
and troublesome task to you : whereas, on the
contrary, nothing surely can be named, that
is either more suited to the dignity of human
nature, more beautiful and becoming, or at-
tended with greater pleasure. I therefore be-
seech and entreat you, by the bowels of Di-
vine mercy, and by your own most precious
souls, that you would seriously consider these
* Lex Dei loquitur linguam filiorum hominum.
HAPPINESS.
649
things, and make them your principal study.
Try an experiment, attended with no danger
or expense; make a trial of the ways of this
wisdom, and I doubt not but you will be so
charmed with the pleasantness thereof, that
you will never thenceforward depart from
them. For this purpose, I earnestly recom-
mend to you to be constant and assiduous in
prayer. Nay, it is St. Paul's exhortation that
you pray without ceasing. 1 Thess. v. 17. So
that prayer may be, not only, according to the
old saying, Clavis diei, et sera noctis—“The
key that opens the day, and the lock that
shuts up the night”—but also, so to speak, a
staff for support in the daytime, and a bed for
rest and comfort in the night; two conveni-
ences which are commonly expressed by one
single Hebrew word. And be assured, that
the more frequently you pray, with so much
the greater ease and pleasure will your pray-
ers be attended, not only from the common
and necessary connexion between acts and
habits, but also from the nature of this duty.
For prayer, being a kind of conversation with
God, gradually purifies the soul, and makes
it continually more and more like unto him.
Our love to God is also very much improved
by this frequent intercourse with him ; and
by his love, on the other hand, the soul is ef-
fectually disposed to fervency, as well as fre-
quently in prayer, and can, by no means, sub-
sist without it.
LECTURE II.
HAPPINESS, ITS NAMIE AND NATURE, AND THE
DESIRE OF IT IMPLANTED IN THE HUMAN
HEART.
How deep and dark is that abyss of misery
into which man is precipitated by his deplo-
rable fall ; since he has thereby lost, not only
the possession, but also the knowledge of his
chief or principal good He has no distinct
notion of what it is, of the means of recover-
ing it, or the way he has to take in pursuit of
it. Yet the human mind, however stunned
and weakened by so dreadful a fall, still re-
tains some faint idea, some confused and ob-
scure motions of the good it has lost, and
some remaining seeds of its heavenly origi-
mal.” It has also still remaining a kind of
languid sense of its misery and indigence,
with affections suitable to those obscuré no-
tions. From this imperfect sense of its pov-
erty, and these feeble affections, arise some
motions and efforts of the mind, like those of
one groping in the dark, and seeking rest ev-
erywhere, but meeting with it nowhere. This,
at least, is beyond all doubt, and indisputable,
that all men wish well to themselves, nay,
that they all catch at, and desire to attain,
the enjoyment of the most absolute and per-
fect good; even the worst of men have not
* Cognati semina coeli.
lost this regard for themselves, nor can they
possibly divest themselves of it. And though,
alas ! it is but too true, that, as we are natu-
rally blind, we run ourselves upon misery,
under the disguise of happiness, and not only
embrace, according to the common saying,
“a cloud instead of Juno,” but death itself
instead of life: yet, even from this most fatal
error, it is evident that we naturally pursue
either real happiness, or what, to our mis-
taken judgment, appears to be such. Nor
can the mind of man divest itself of this pro-
pensity, without divesting itself of its being.
This is what the schoolmen mean, when, in
their manner of expression, they say, that
“The will is carried toward happiness, not
simply as will, but as mature.”f
It is true, indeed, the generality of man-
kind are not well acquainted with the mo-
tions of their own minds, nor at pains to ob-
serve them, but, like brutes, by a kind of
secret impulse, are violently carried toward
such enjoyments as fall in their way: they
do but very little, or not at all, enter into
themselves, and review the state and opera-
tions of their own minds; yet, in all their ac-
tions, all their wishes and desires (though
they are not always aware of it themselves),
this thirst after immortality exerts and dis-
covers itself. Consider the busy part of man-
kind hurrying to and fro in the exercise of
their several professions—physicians, lawyers,
merchants, mechanics, farmers, and even sol-
diers themselves—they all toil and labor, in
order to obtain rest, if success attend their en-
deavors, and any fortunate event answer their
expectations; encouraged by these fond hopes,
they eat their bread with the sweat of their
brow. But their toil, after all, is endless, con-
stantly returning in a circle ; and the days of
men pass away in suffering real evils, and en-
tertaining fond hopes of apparent good, which
they seldom or never attain. Every man
walks in a vain show: he torments himself in
vain. Psalm xxxix. 6. He pursues rest and
ease, like his shadow, and never overtakes
them; but, for the most part, ceases to live,
before he begins to live to purpose. How-
ever, after all this confused and fluctuating
appetite, which determines us to the pursuit
of good, either real or apparent, as it is con-
genial with us, and deeply rooted in the hu-
man heart, so it is the great handle by which
Divine grace lays hold, as it were, upon our
nature, draws us to itself, and extricates us
out of the profound abyss of misery into
which we are fallen.
From this it evidently follows, that the de-
sign of sacred theology is the very same with
that of human nature, and he that rejects it
hates his own soul (for so the wise king of IS-
rael emphatically expresses it, Prov. viii. 36);
he is the most irreconcilable enemy to his
own happiness, and absolutely at variance
* Nubem pro Junone.
# In beatitudinem fertur voluntas, non ut voluntas,
sed ut natura.
650
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
with himself; according to that of St. Bernard,
“After I was set in opposition to Thee, I be-
came also contrary to myself.”
These considerations have determined me
to begin these instructions, such as they are,
which, with Divine assistance, I intend to give
you, concerning the principles of the Christian
religion, with a short disquisition concerning
the chief or ultimate end of man. And here it
is to be, first of all, observed, that the transcen-
dent and supreme end of all, is the glory of
God ; all things returning, in a most beauti-
ful circle, to this, as the original source from
which they at first took their rise. But the
end of true religion, as far as it regards us,
which is immediately connected with the
former, and serves, in a most glorious manner,
to promote it, is, the salvation and happiness
of mankind.
Though I should not tell you what is to be
understood by the term happiness or felicity
in general, I can not imagine any of you
would be at a loss about it. Yet, I shall give
a brief explication of it, that you may have
the more distinct ideas of the thing itself, and
the juster notions of what is to be further ad-
vanced on the subject. Nor is there, indeed,
any controversy on this head; for all are
agreed that by the terms commonly used in
Hebrew, Greek, and Latin,f to express hap-
piness or felicity, we are to understand that
perfect and complete good, which is suited
and adapted to intelligent nature. I say to
tntelligent nature, because the brute crea-
tures can not be said to be happy, but in a
Very improper sense. Happiness can not be
ascribed to horses or oxen, let them be never
So well fed, and left in the full possession of
liberty and ease. And as good in general is
peculiar to intelligent beings; so, more espe-
cially, that perfect good, which constitutes
felicity in its full and most extensive accepta-
ticn. It is true, indeed, in common conver-
sation, men are very prodigal of this term,
and, with extravagant levity, misapply it to
every common enjoyment of life, or apparent
good they meet with, especially such as is
most suited to their present exigencies; and
thus, as Aristotle, in his Ethics, expresses it,
“The sick person considers health, and the
poor man riches, as the chief good.” It is
also true, that learned men, and even the sa-
cred Scriptures, give the name of felicity to
Some symptoms and small beginnings of fu-
ture happiness. But, as we have already ob-
served, this term, in its true and complete
sense, comprehends in it that absolute and
full perfection of good which entirely excludes
all uneasiness, and brings with it everything
that can contribute to satisfaction and delight.
Consequently, that good, whatever it be, that
most perfectly supplies all the wants, and sat-
isfies all the cravings of our rational appetites,
* Postguam posuisti me contrarium tibi, factus sum
contrarius mihi.
f ºnwn in Hebrew, pakaptorms etevöutpovía in Greek,
jelicitas et beatitudo in Latin.
is objective felicity, as the schools express it:
and actual, or formal felicity, is the full pos-
session and enjoyment of that complete and
chief good. It consists of a perfect tranquil-
lity of the mind, and not a dull and stupid in-
dolence, like the calm that reigns in the Dead
sea; but such a piece of mind as is lively,
active, and constantly attended with the
purest joy: not a mere absence of uneasiness
and pain; but such a perfect ease as is con-
stantly accompanied with the most perfect
satisfaction, and supreme delight; and if the
term had not been degraded by the mean uses
to which it has been prostituted, I should not
scruple to call it pleasure.* And, indeed, we
may still call it by this name, provided we pu-
rify the term, and guard it by the following
limitations; so as to understand by felicity,
such a pleasure as is perfect, constant, pure,
spiritual, and divine. For never, since I ven-
tured to think upon such subjects, could I be
satisfied with the opinion of Aristotle and the
schoolmen, who distinguish between the fru-
ition of the chief good, which constitutes true
felicity, aud the delight and satisfaction at-
tending that fruition; because, at this rate,
that good would not be the ultimate end and
completion of our desires, nor desired on its
own account : for whatever good we wish to
possess, the end of our wishing is, that we
may enjoy it with tranquillity and delight ;
and this uninterrupted delight or satisfaction,
which admits of no alloy, is, love in posses-
sion of the beloved object, and at the height
of its ambition.
LECTURE III.
HAPPINESS OF MAN, AND THAT IT IS REALLY
TO BE FOUND.
YoU will not, I imagine, be offended, nor
think I intend to insult you, because I have once
and again, with great earnestness and sincer-
ity, wished you and myself a sound and seri-
ous temper of mind: for, if we may represent
things as they really are, very few men are
possessed of so valuable a blessing. The far
greater part of them are intoxicated either
with the pleasures or the cares of this world ;
they stagger about with a tottering and un-
stable pace; and, as Solomon expresses it,
The labor of the foolish wearieth every one of
them : because he knoweth, not how to go to
the city: Eccles. x. 15:—the heavenly city,
and the vision of peace, which very few have
a just notion of, or are at pains to seek after.
Nay, they knownot what it is they are seeking.
They flutter from one object to another, and
live at hazard. They have no certain harbor
in view, nor direct their course by any fixed
star. But to him that knoweth not the port
to which he is bound, no wind can be favor-
* H sudaipovía #ógvá ájeraſºnrós : Happiness is
pleasure perpetuated.
HAPPINESS.
651
able ; neither can he who has not yet deter-
mined at what mark he is to shoot, direct his
arrow aright. That this may not be our
case, but that we may have a proper object
to aim at, I propose to speak of the chief end
of our being.
And to begin at the Father of Spirits, or
pure intelligences, God, blessed for ever, com-
pletely happy in himself from all eternity, is
his own happiness. His self-sufficiency
| Avrépreta], that external and infinite satis-
faction and complacency he has in himself, is
the peculiar and most complete felicity of that
Supreme Being who derives his existence
from himself, and has given being to every
thing else. Which Chrysostom has well ex-
pressed by saying, that “it is God's peculiar
property to stand in need of nothing.” And
Claudius Victor beautifully describes him as
“vested with all the majesty of creative pow-
er, comprehending in his infinite mind all
the creatures to be afterward produced, hay-
ing all the revolutions of time constantly
present to his all-seeing eye, and being an
immense and most glorious kingdom to him-
self.”f
Yet all we can say of this Primary, Uncre-
ated Majesty and Felicity, is but mere talking
to little or no sort of purpose: for here, not
only words fail us, but even thought is at a
stand, and quite overpowered, when we sur-
vey the Supreme, self-existent Being,f per-
fectly happy and glorious in the sole enjoy-
ment of his own own infinite perfections,
throughout numberless ages, without angels,
men, or any other creature: so that the poet
had reason to say, “What eye so strong, that
the matchless brightness of thy glory will not
dazzle it, and make it close !”||
Let us, therefore, descend into ourselves,
but with a view to return to him again ; and
not only so, but in such a manner, that the
end and design of our descending to inquire
into our own situation, be, that we may, with
greater advantage, return and reascend to
God. For, if we inquire into our own ulti-
mate end, this disquisition must rise above all
other beings, and at last terminate in him ;
because he himself is that very end, and out
of him, there is neither beginning nor end.
The felicity of angels, which is an interme-
diate degree of happiness, we shall not insist
on, not only because it is foreign to our pur-
pose, but also, because our felicity and theirs
will be found upon the matter, to be precisely
the same.
*6soi, uáAtara tätov ro dvévêees.
f Regnabatgue; potensin majestate creandi,
Et facienda videns, gignendaque ; mente capaci,
Secula despiciens, et quicquid tempora volvunt
Presens semper habens: immensum mole beatá
Regnum erat ipse sibi.
f Av6etacroy royºvras
| Tivos ūup a gopov
Taſs gais a reporaís
'Avakorropsvow
'Ov kaapāoret.
Synos. Hym. Tert.
With regard to our own happiness, we
shall first show, that such happiness really ea-
ists ; and next inquire, what it is, and where-
in it consists.
We assert, them, that there is such a thing
as human felicity, and this ought rather to be
taken for granted as a matter unquestionable,
than strictly proved. But when I speak of
human felicity, I am well satisfied you will
not imagine, I mean such a happiness as may
be had from human things, but that I take
the term subjectively, and understand by it
the happiness of man. Now, he who would
deny, that this is not only among the num-
ber of possibles, but actually attained by some
part, at least, of the human race, would not
only render himself unworthy of such happi-
ness, but even of human nature itself; be-
cause he would thereby do all in his power
to deprive it of its highest expectations and
its greatest honor: but whoever allows, that
all things were produced by the hand of an
infinitely wise Creator, can not possibly doubt,
that man, the head and ornament of all his
visible works, was made capable of a proper
and suitable end. The principal beauty of
the creation consists in this, that all things
in it are disposed in the most excellent order,
and every particular intended for some noble
and suitable end ; and if this could not be
said of man, who is the glory of the visible
world what a great deformity must it be,
how great a gap in nature And this gap
must be the greater, in that, as we have al-
ready observed, man is naturally endued with
strong and vigorous desires toward such an
end. Yet, on this absurd supposition, all
such desires and expectations would be vain,
and to no purpose ; and so, something might
be said in defence of that peevish and impa-
tient expression which escaped the psalmist
in a fit of excessive sorrow, and he might
have an excuse for saying, Why hast thou
made all men in vain? Psalm lxxxix. 47.
This would not only have been a frightful
gap in nature, but if I am allowed so to
speak, at this rate, the whole human race
must have been created in misery, and expos-
ed to unavoidable torments, from which they
could never have been relieved, had they
been formed, not only capable of a good quite
unattainable and altogether without their
reach, but also with strong and restless de-
sires toward that impossible good. Now, as
this is by no means to be admitted, there
must necessarily be some full, permanent,
and satisfying good, that may be attained by
man, and in the possession of which he must
be truly happy.
When we revolve these things in our minds,
do we not feel from within, a powerful im-
pulse, exciting us to set aside all other cares,
that we may discover the one chief good,
and attain to the enjoyment of it? ...While we
inhabit these bodies, I own, we lie under a
necessity of using corporeal and fading things:
652
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
but there is no necessity that we should be
slaves to our bellies and the lusts of the flesh,
or have our affections glued to this earth :
may, that it should be so, is the highest and
most intolerable indignity. Can it be thought,
that man was born merely to cram himself
with victuals and drink, or gratify the other
appetites of a body which he has in common
with the brutes ? to Snuff up the wind, to en-
tertain delusive and vain hopes all the days
of his life, and, when that short scene of mad-
ness is over, to be laid in the grave, and re-
duced to its original dust 3 Far be it from
us to draw such conclusions: there is cer-
tainly something beyond this, something so
great and lasting, that, in respect of it, the
short point of time we live here, with all its
bustle of business and pleasures, is more emp-
ty and vanishing than smoke. “I am more
considerable,” says one, “and born to greater
matters, than to become the slave of my di-
minutive body.”* With how much greater
truth might we speak thus, were we regene-
rated from heaven | Let us be ashamed to
live with our heads bowed down, like grovel-
ling beasts gazing upon the earth, or even to
catch at the vain and airy shadows of sci-
ence, while, in the mean time, we know not,
or do not consider, whence we took our rise,
and whither we are soon to return, what place
is to receive our souls, when they are set at
liberty from these bodily prisons. If it is the
principal desire of your souls to understand
the nature of this felicity, and the way that
leads to it, search the Scriptures ; for, from
them alone, we all think, or profess to think,
we can have eternal life. I exhort and be-
seech you, never to suffer so much as one day
to pass, either through lazy negligence or
too much eagerness in inferior studies, with-
out reading some part of the sacred records
with a pious and attentive disposition of mind;
still joining with your reading, fervent prayer,
that you may thereby draw down that divine
light, without which spiritual things can not
be read and understood. But with this light
shining upon them, it is not possible to ex-
press how much sweeter you will find these
inspired writings, than Cicero, Demosthenes,
Homer, Aristotle, and all the other orators,
poets, and philosophers. They reason about
an imaginary felicity, and every one in his
own way advances some precarious and un-
certain thoughts upon it; but this book alone
shows clearly, and with absolute certainty,
what it is, and points out the way that leads
to the attainment of it. This is that which
prevailed with St. Augustine to study the
Scriptures, and engaged his affections to
them. “In Cicero, and Plato, and other such
writers,” says he, “I meet with many things
wittily said, and things that have a mode-
rate tendency to move the passions; but in
none of them do I find these words, Come un-
to me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden,
and I will give you rest.”
LECTURE IV.
IN WHICH IT IS PROVED THAT HUMAN FELICITY
CAN NOT BE FOUND EITHER IN THE EARTH OR
EARTHLY THINGS.
WE are all in quest of one thing, but almost
all of us out of the right road ; therefore, to be
sure, the longer and the more swiftly we
move in a wrong path, the further we depart
from the object of our desires: and if it is so,
we can speak or think of nothing more prop-
er and seasonable, than of inquiring about the
only right way, whereby we may all come
“to see the bright fountain of goodness.”f
I know you will remember, that on the last
occasion, we proposed the most important
of all questions, viz., that concerning our ul-
timate end, or the way to discover true hap-
piness; to which we asserted that all man-
kind do aspire with a natural, and therefore
a constant and uniform ardor; or rather, we
supposed, that all are sufficiently acquainted
with this happiness, nay, really do, or at
least may feel it within them, if they thor-
oughly know themselves. For this is the
end of the labors of men; to this tend all
their toils. This is the general aim of all,
not only of the sharp-sighted, but the blear-
eyed and short-sighted ; nay even of those that
are quite blind, who though they can not see
the mark they propose to themselves, yet are
in hopes of reaching it at last : that is to say,
though their ideas of it are very confused and
imperfect, they all desire happiness in the ob-
vious sense of the word. We have also ob-
served, that this term, in its general accepta-
tion, imports that full and perfect good which
is suited to intelligent nature.f. It is not to
be doubted but the felicity of the Diety, as
well as his being, is in himself, and from him-
self. But our inquiry is concerning oër own
happiness. We also positively determined,
that there is some blessed end suited and
adapted to our nature, and that this can by no
means be denied ; for since all parts of the
universe have proper ends suited and adapt-
ed to their natures, that the most noble and
excellent creature of the whole sublunary
world should in this be defective, and there-
fore created in vain, would be so great a sol-
ecism, such a deformity in the whole fabric,
and so unworthy of the supreme and all-wise
Creator, that it can by no means be admitted,
nor even so much as imagined. This point
being settled, viz., that there is some deter-
* Major sum, et ad majora gentius, quam ut sim
mancipium mei corpusculi.
* Apud Ciceronem et Platonem, aliosque ejusmodi
scriptores, multa sunt acute dicta, et leniter calentias
sed in is omnibus hoc non invenio, Venite ad me, &c.
[Matt. xi. 28.] -
f Boni fontem visere lucidum.
f IIpåröv re, exarów re, kai pāytarov kaAów.
HAPPINESS.
653
minate good, in the possession whereof the
mind of man may be fully satisfied and at
perfect rest, we now proceed to inquire what
this, good is, and where it may be found.
The first thing, and at the same time a
very considerable step toward this discovery,
will be to show where and in what things
this perfect good is not to be found; not only
because this point being settled, it will be
easier to determine wherein it actually con-
sists; nay, the latter will naturally flow from
the former; but also because, as has been ob-
served, we shall find the far greater part of
mankind pursuing vain shadows and phan-
toms of happiness, and, throughout their
whole lives, wandering in a great variety of
by-paths, seeking the way to make a proper
improvement of life, almost always hunting
for that chief good where it is not to be
found. They must first be recalled from this
rambling, and fruitless course, before they
can possibly be directed into the right road.
I shall not spin out this negative proposition
by dividing the subject of it into several
branches, and insisting separately upon every
One of them ; but consider all these errors
and mistakes, both. Vulgar and practical,
speculative and philosophical, however nu-
merous they may be, as comprehended under
one general head, and fully obviate them all
by one single proposition, which, with Di-
vine assistance, I shall explain to you in this
lecture, and that very briefly.
The proposition is, that human felicity, or
that full and complete good that is suited to
the nature of man, is not to be found in the
earth, nor in earthly things.
Now, what if, instead of further proof or
illustration, I should only say–If this per-
fect felicity is to be ſound within this visible
world, or the verge of this earthly life, let
him, I pray, who hath found it out, stand
forth ; let him tell who can, what star, of
whatever magnitude, what constellation or
combination of stars, has so favorable an as-
pect, and so benign an influence, or what is
that singular good, or, assemblage of good
things in this earth, that can confer upon
mankind a happy life. All things that, like
bright stars, have hitherto attracted the eyes
of men, vanishing in a few days, have proved
themselves to be comets, not only of no be-
nign, but even of pernicious influence: ac-
cording to the saying, “There is no comet
but what brings some mischief along with
it.” All that have ever lived during so many
ages that the world has hitherto lasted, no.
ble and ignoble, learned and unlearned, fools
and wise men, have gone in search of hap-
piness: has ever any one of them all, in
times past, or is there any one at this day
that has said, Evonka, I have found it? Dif.
ferent men have given different definitions
and descriptions of it, and according to their
various turns of mind, have painted it in a
iº e * * p
'Ovčeſs yāp kopfires àorts of kaków £epet.
great variety of shapes; but, since the crea-
tion of the world, there has not been so
much as one who ever pretended to say,
Here it is, I have it, and have attained the
full possession of it. Even those from whom
most was to be expected, men of the utmost
penetration, and most properly qualified for
such researches, after all their labor and in-
dustry, have acknowledged their disappoint-
ment, and that they have not found it. But
it would be wonderful indeed, that there
should be any good suited to human nature,
and to which mankind were born, and yet
that it never fell to the share of any one in-
dividual of the sons of men: unless it be
said, that the things of life, in this respect,
resemble the speculations of the schools;
and that, as they talk about objects of knowl-
edge that were never known, so there is
some good attainable by men, which was
never actually attained.
But to look a little more narrowly into this
matter, and take a transient view of the sev-
eral periods of life. Infants are so far from
attaining to happiness, that they have not
yet arrived at human life; yet, if they are
compared with those of riper years, they are
in a low and improper sense, with regard to
two things, innocenee and ignorance, hap-
pier than men; for there is nothing . that
years add to infancy so invariably, and in so
great abundance, as guilt and pollution ; and
the experience and knowledge of the world
which they give us, do not so much improve
the head, as they vex and distress the heart.
So that the great man represented in the
tragedy embracing his infant who knew noth-
ing of his own misery, seems to have had
some reason to say, that “those who know
nothing enjoy the happiest life.” And to be
sure, what we gain by our progress from in-
fancy to youth, is that we thereby become
more exposed to the miseries of life, and, as
we improve in the knowledge of things, our
pains and torments are also increased ; for
either children are put to servile employ-
ments, or mechanic arts; or if they happen
to have a more genteel and liberal education,
this very thing turns to a punishment, as they
are thereby subjected to rods and chastise-
ments, and the power of parents and instruc-
ters, which is often a kind of petty tyranny ;
and when the yoke is lightened with the
greatest prudence, it still seems hard to be
borne, as it is above the capacity of their
young minds, thwarts their wishes and incli-
nations, and encroaches upon their beloved
liberty.
Youth, put in full possession of this liberty,
for the most part ceases to be master of itself;
nor can it be truly said to be delivered from
its former misery, as to exchange it for a
worse, even that very liberty. It leaves the
harbor to sail through quicksands and sirens;
and when both these are passed, launches
*T4 yvöval pnóév early #6taro; 3ios.
654
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
out into the deep sea. Alas ! to what vari-
ous fates is it there exposed How many
contrary winds does it meet with ! How many
storms threatening it with shipwreck! How
many shocks has it to bear from avarice, am-
bition, and envy, either in consequence of
the violent stirrings of those passions within
itself, or the fierce attacks of them from with-
out ! Amid all these tempests, the ship is
either early overwhelmed, or broken by
storms; and worn out by old age, at last
falls to pieces.
Nor does it much signify what state of
life one enters into, or what rank he holds in
human society; for all forms of business and
conditions of life, however various you may
suppose them to be, are exposed to a much
greater variety of troubles and distresses, some
to pressures more numerous and more griev-
ous than others, but all to a great many, and
every one to some peculiar to itself. If you
devote yourself to ease and retirement, you
can not avoid the reproach and uneasiness
that constantly attend an indolent, a useless,
and lazy life. If you engage in business,
whatever it be, whether you commence
merchant, soldier, farmer, or lawyer, you al-
ways meet with toil and hazard, and often
with heavy misfortunes and losses. Celibacy
exposes to solitude; marriage, to solicitude
and cares. Without learning, you appear
plain and unpolished ; but on the other hand,
the study of letters is a matter of immense
labor, and, for the most part, brings in but
very little, either with regard to the knowl-
edge you acquire by it, or the conveniences
of life it procures. But I will enlarge no fur-
ther. You find the Greek and Latin poets
lamenting the calamities of life in many
parts of their works, and at great length :
nor do they exaggerate in the least; they
even fall short of the truth, and only enu-
merate a few evils out of many.
The Greek epigram ascribed by some to
Prosidipus, by others to Crates the cynic
philosopher, begins thus, “What state of
life ought one to choose ?” and having enu-
merated them all, concludes in this manner:
“There are then only two things eligible, ei-
ther never to have been born, or to die as soon
as one makes his appearance in the world.”
But now, leaving the various periods and
conditions of life, let us, with great brevity,
run over those things which are looked upon
to be the greatest blessings in it, and see
whether any of them can make it completely
happy. Can this be expected from a beauti-
ful outside 3 No ; this has rendered many
miserable, but never made one happy. For
suppose it to be sometimes attended with in-
nocence, it is surely of a fading and perish-
ing nature, “the sport of time or disease.”f
Can it be expected from riches 2 Surely no ;
*IIowny rot 8tórowo rāpots roigov.–Egr’ affa rolv
Övotv evos Hipeats à rá yeweabat pečeror # 8avery durika
Tikropatvov.
f Xpévot # v6oov Tatyvtov-
for how little of them does the owner pos-
Sess, even supposing his wealth to be ever so
great! What a small part of them does he
use or enjoy himself! And what has he of the
rest but the pleasure of seeing them with his
eyes 2 Let his table be loaded with the
greatest variety of delicious dishes, he fills
his belly out of one; and if he has a hun-
dred beds, he lies but in one of them. Can
the kingdoms, thrones, and sceptres of this
world, confer happiness 2 No: we learn
from the histories of all ages, that not a few
have been tumbled down from these by sud-
den and unexpected revolutions, and those
not such as were void of conduct or courage,
but men of great and extraordinary abilities.
And that those who met with no such mis-
fortunes, were still far enough from happi-
ness, is very plain from the situation of their
affairs, and in many cases, from their own
confession. The saying of Augustus is well
known : “I wish I had never been married,
and had died childless.” And the expres-
sion of Severus at his death, “I became all
things, and yet it does not profit me.”f But
the most noted saying of all, and that which
best deserves to be known, is that of the
wisest and most flourishing king, as well as
the greatest preacher, who, having exactly
computed all the advantages of his exalted
dignity and royal opulence, found this to be
the sum total of all, and left it on record for
the inspection of posterity and future ages,
Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.
All this may possibly be true with regard
to the external advantages of men ; but may
not happiness be found in the internal goods
of the mind, such as wisdom and virtue 2
Suppose this granted; still that they may
confer perfect felicity, they must of necessi-
ty be perfect themselves. Now, show me
the man, who, even in his own judgment,
has attained to perfection in wisdom and vir-
tue: even those who were accounted the
wisest, and actually were so, acknowledged
they knew nothing: nor was there one
among the most approved philosophers,
whose virtues were not allayed with many
blemishes. The same must be said of piety
and true religion, which, though it is the be-
ginning of felicity, and tends directly to per-
fection, yet, as in this earth it is not full and
complete in itself, it can not make its posses-
sors perfectly happy. The knowledge of the
most exalted minds is very obscure, and al-
most quite dark, and their practice of virtue
lame and imperfect. And indeed, who can
have the boldness to boast of perfection in
this respect, when he hears the great apostle
complaining of the law of the flesh, and pa-
thetically exclaiming, Who shall deliver me
from this body of death º Rom. vii. 24. Be-
sides, though wisdom and virtue, or piety
were perfect, so long as we have bodies, we
must at the same time have all bodily advan-
* Atô' àpskov ayapós r' suswat a yová's r' droMedal.
IIávra èyeväpnv kai of Avatrexei.
IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL.
655.
tages, in order to perfect felicity. There-
fore the satirist smartly ridicules the wise
man of the stoics: “He is,” says he, “free,
honored, beautiful, king of kings, and par-
ticularly happy, except when he is troubled
with phlegm.”
Since these things are so, we must raise
our minds higher, and not live with our heads
bowed down like the common sort of man-
kind ; who, as St. Augustine expresses it,
“look for a happy life in the region of
death.”f To set our hearts upon the perish-
ing goods of this wretched life and its muddy
pleasures, is not the happiness of men, but of
hogs. And if pleasure is dirt, other things
are but smoke. Were this the only good pro-
posed to the desires and hopes of men, it
would not have been so great a privilege to
have been born. Be therefore advised, young
gentlemen, and beware of this poisonous cup,
fest your minds thereby become brutish, and
fall into a fatal oblivion of your original, and
your end. Turn that part of your composi-
tion which is Divine, to God its creator and
father, without whom we can neither be hap-
py, nor indeed be at all.
LECTURE W.
IMIMORTALITY OF THE SOUL.
THERE are many things that keep mankind
employed, particularly business, or rather tri-
fles; for so the affairs which are in this world
considered as most important, ought to be call-
ed, when compared with that of minding our
own valuable concerns, knowing ourselves,
and truly consulting our highest interest ; but
how few are there that make this their study ?
The definition you commonly give of man, is,
that he is a rational creature ; though, to be
sure, it is not applicable to the generality of
mankind, unless you understand, that they
are such, not actually, but in power only, and
that very remote. They are, for the most
part at least, more silly and foolish than chil-
dren, and, like them, fond of toys and rattles:
they fatigue themselves, running about and
sauntering from place to place, but do noth-
ing to purpose. *.
What a wonder it is, that souls of a heaven-
ly original have so far forgot their native
country, and are so immersed in dirt and mud,
that there are few men who frequently con-
verse with themselves about their own state,
thinking gravely of their original and their
end, seriously laying to heart, that as the
poet expresses it, “good and evil are set be-
fore mankind;”f and who after mature con-
sideration, not only think it the most wise and
reasonable course, but are also fully resolved
to exert themselves to the utmost, in order to
* Dives,
Liber, honoratus, pulcher, rex denique regum,
Præcipue foelix, nisi cum pituita molesta est.
f Beatam vitam quaerunt in regione mortis.
f Qre rot av0}oroioi kakov r" ayabów re rerokrat.
arrive at a sovereign contempt of earthly
things, and aspire to those enjoyments that
are Divine and eternal. For our parts, I am
fully persuaded we shall be of this mind, if
we seriously reflect upon what has been said.
For if there is, of necessity, a complete, per-
manent, and satisfying good intended for man,
and no such good is to be found in the earth
or earthly things, we must proceed farther,
and look for it somewhere else; and, in conse-
quence of this, conclude, that man is not quite
extinguished by death, but removes to another
place, and that the human soul is by all means
immortal.
Many men have added a great variety of
different arguments to support this conclusion,
some of them strong and solid, and others, to
speak freely, too metaphysical, and of little
strength, especially as they are as obscure,
as easily denied, and as hard to be proved, as
that very conclusion, in support of which they
are adduced.
They who reason from the immaterial na-
ture of the soul, and from its being infused
into the body, as also from its method of ope-
ration, which is confined to none of the bodily
organs, may easily prevail with those who
believe these principles, to admit the truth
of the conclusion they want to draw from
them ; but if they meet with any who obsti-
nately deny the premises, or even doubt the
truth of them, it will be a matter of difficulty
to support such hypotheses with clear and
conclusive arguments. If the soul of man
was well acquainted with itself, and fully
understood its own nature, if it could investi-
gate the nature of its union with the body,
and the method of its operation therein, we
doubt not but thence it might draw these
and other such arguments of its immortality;
but since, shut up in the prison of a dark body,
it is so little known, and so incomprehensible
to itself, and since, in so great obscurity, it
can scarce, if at all, discover the least of its
own features and complexion, it would be a
very difficult matter for it to say much con-
cerning its internal nature, or nicely determine
the methods of its operation. But it would
be surprising, if any one should deny, that the
very operations it performs, especially those
of the more noble and exalted sort, are strong
marks and conspicuous characters of its ex-
cellence and immortality.
Nothing is more evident than that, besides
life, and sense, and animal spirits, which he
has in common with the brutes, there is in
man something more exalted, more pure, and
that more nearly approaches to Divinity.
God has given to the former a sensitive soul,
but to us a mind also: and, to speak distinct-
ly, that spirit which is peculiar to man, and
whereby he is raised above all other animals,
ought to be called mind rather than soul.”
Be this as it may, it is hardly possible to say,
how vastly the human mind excels the other
with regard to its wonderful powers, and next
* Animus potius dicendus est quam anima.
656
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
to them, with respect to its works, devices,
and inventions. For it performs such great
and wonderful things, that the brutes, even
those of the greatest sagacity, can neither
imitate, nor at all understand, much less in-
vent. Nay, man, though he is much less in
bulk, and inferior in strength to the greatest
part of them, yet, as lord and king of them
all, he can, by surprising means, bend and
apply the strength and industry of all the
other creatures, the virtues of all herbs and
plants, and, in a word, all the parts and powers
of this visible world, to the convenience and
accommodation of his own life. He also
builds cities, erects commonwealths, makes
laws, conducts armies, fits out fleets, measures
not only the earth, but the heavens also, and
investigates the motions of the stars. He
foretells eclipses many years before they hap-
pen; and, with very little difficulty, sends his
thoughts to a great distance, bids them visit
the remotest cities and countries, mount above
the sun and the stars, and even the heavens
themselves.
But all these things are inconsiderable, and
contribute but little to our present purpose, in
respect of that one incomparable dignity that
results to the human mind from its being
capable of religion, and having indelible
characters thereof naturally stamped upon it.
It acknowledges a God, and worships him ;
it builds temples to his honor; it celebrates
his never enough exalted majesty with sacri-
fices, prayers, and praises; depends upon his
bounty ; implores his aid ; and so carries on
a constant correspondence with heaven: and,
which is a very strong proof of its being
originally from heaven, it hopes at last to re-
turn to it. And, truly, in my judgment, this
previous impression and hope of immortality,
and these earnest desires after it, are a very
strong evidence of that immortality. These
impressions, though in most men they lie
overpowered and almost quite extinguished
by the weight of their bodies, and an extrav-
agant love to present enjoyments; yet, now
and then, in time of adversity, break forth and
exert themselves, especially under the pres-
sure of severe distempers, and at theapproaches
of death. But those whose minds are purifi-
ed, and their thoughts habituated to Divine
things, with what constant and ardent wishes
do they breathe after that blessed immortali-
ty How often do their souls complain with-
in them, that they have dwelt so long in these
earthly tabernacles! Like exiles, they earnest-
ly wish, make interest, and struggle hard to
regain their native country. Moreover does
not that noble neglect of the body and its
senses, and that contempt of all the pleasures
of the flesh, which these heavenly souls have
attained, evidently show, that, in a short time,
they will be taken hence, and that the body
and soul are of a very different, and almost
contrary mature to one another ; that, there-
fore, the duration of the one depends not upon
the other, but is quite of another kind; and
that the soul, set at liberty from the body, is
not only exempted from death, but, in some
sense, them begins to live, and then first sees
the light? Had we not this hope to support
us, what ground should we have to lament
our first nativity, which placed us in a life so
short, so destitute of good, and so crowded
with miseries; a life which we pass entirely
in grasping phantoms of felicity, and suffering
real calamities . So that if there were not,
beyond this, a life and happiness that more
truly deserves these names, who can help
seeing, that, of all creatures, man would be
the most miserable, and, of all men, the best
the most unhappy Ž
For, although every wise man looks upon
the belief of the immortality of the soul, as
one of the great and principal supports of re-
ligion, there may possibly be some rare, ex-
alted, and truly divine minds, who would
choose the pure and noble path of virtue for
its own sake, would constantly walk 'n it,
and out of love to it, would not decline the
severest hardships, if they should happen to
be exposed to them on its account. Yet it
can not be denied, that the common sort of
Christians, though they are really and at heart
sound believers and true Christians, fall very
far short of this attainment, and would scarce-
ly, if at all, embrace virtue and religion, if
you take away the rewards; which I think
the Apostle Paul hints at in this expression,
If in this life only we have hope, we are of all
men the most miserable. 1 Cor. xv. 19. The
apostle, indeed, does not intend these words
as a direct proof of the immortality of the soul
in a separate state, but an argument to prove
the resurrection of the body; which is a doc-
trine near akin, and closely connected with
the former. For that great restoration is
added as an instance of the superabundance
and immensity of the Divine goodness, whose
pleasure it is, that not only the better and
more divine part of man, which, upon its re-
turn to its original source, is, without the
body, capable of enjoying a perfectly happy
and eternal life, should have a glorious im-
mortality, but also that this earthly tabernacle,
as being the faithful attendant and constant
companion of the soul through all its toils and
labors in this worki, be also admitted to a
share and participation of its heavenly and
eternal felicity ; that so, according to our
Lord's expression, every faithful soul may
have returned into its bosom, good measure,
pressed down, shaken together, and running
over. Luke vi. 38.
Let our belief of this immortality be found-
ed entirely on Divine Revelation, and then
like a city fortified with a rampart of earth.
drawn round it, let it be outwardly guarded
and defended by reason; which in this case,
suggests arguments as strong and convincing
as the subject will admit of. If any one, in
the present case, promises demonstration, his
undertaking is certainly too much, if he de-
sires or expects it from another, he requires
IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL.
657
too much. There are, indeed, very few dem-
onstrations in philosophy, if you except
mathematical sciences, that can be truly and
strictly so called, and, if we inquire narrowly
into the matter, perhaps we shall find none
at all : nay, if even the mathematical demon-
strations are examined by the strict rules and
ideas of Aristotle, the greatest part of them
will be found imperfect and defective. The
saying of that philosopher is, therefore, wise
and applicable to many cases: “Demonstra-
tions are not to be expected in all cases, but
so far as the subject will admit of them.”
But if we were well acquainted with the na-
ture and essence of the soul, or even its precise
method of operation on the body, it is highly
probable we could draw thence evident and
undeniable demonstrations of that immor-
tality which we are now asserting : whereas,
so long as the mind of man is so little acquaint-
ed with its own nature, we must not expect
any such.
But that unquenchable thirst of the soul,
which we have already mentioned, is a strong
proof of its Divine nature : a thirst not to be
allayed with the impure and turbid waters of
any earthly good, or of all worldy enjoyments
taken together. It thirsts after the never-
failing fountain of good, according to that of
the psalmist, As the hart panteth after the
watcr-brooks: it thirsts after a good, invisible,
immaterial, and immortal, to the enjoyment
whereof the ministry of a body is so far from
being absolutely necessary, that it feels itself
shut up and confined by that to which it is now
united, as by a partition-wall, and groans un-
der the pressure of it. And those souls that
are quite insensible of this thirst, are certainly
buried in the body, as in the carcass of an
impure hog ; nor have they so entirely divest-
ed themselves of this appetite we have men-
tioned, nor can they possibly so divest them-
selves of it, as not to feel it severely, to their
great misery, sooner or later, either when
they awake out of their lethargy within the
body, or when they are obliged to leave it.
To conclude: Nobody, I believe, will deny,
that we are to form our judgment of the true
nature of the human mind, not from the sloth
and stupidity of the most degenerate and
vilest of men, but from the sentiments and
fervent desires of the best and wisest of the
species.
These sentiments concerning the immor-
tality of the soul in its future existence, not
only include no impossibility or absurdity in
them, but are also every way agreeable to
sound reason, wisdom, and virtue, to the Di-
vine economy, and the natural wishes and
desires of men. Wherefore, most nations
have, with the greatest reason, universally
adopted them, and the wisest in all countries
and in all ages have cheerfully embraced
them ; and though they could not confirm
them with any argument of irresistible force,
**6vk iv rāow drodstºsis dirfirsov, ax\' ep' boov čáxe-
rai ré üroxsipevoy.
yet they felt something within them that cor-
responded with this doctrine, and always
looked upon it as most beautiful and worthy
of credit. “Nobody,” says Atticus in Cicero,
“shall drive me from the immortality of the
soul.”* And Seneca's words are, “I took
pleasure to inquire into the eternity of the
soul, and even indeed to believe it. I re-
signed myself to so glorious a hope, for now
I begin to despise the remains of a broken
constitution, as being to remove into that im-
mensity of time, and into the possession of
endless ages.”f O how much does the soul
gain by this removal
As for you, young gentlemen, I doubt not
but you will embrace this doctrine, not only
as agreeable to reason, but as it is an article
of the Christian faith. I only put you in mind
to revolve it often within yourselves, and with
a serious disposition of mind; for you will
find it the strongest incitement to wisdom,
good morals, and true piety. Nor can you
imagine anything that will more effectually
divert you from a foolish admiration of pres-
ent and perishing things, and from the allure-
ments and sordid pleasures of this earthly
body. Consider, I pray you, how unbecom-
ing it is to make a heaven-born soul, that is
to live for ever, a slave to the meanest, vilest,
and most trifling things; and, as it were, to
thrust down to the kitchen a prince that is
obliged to leave his country only for a short
time. St. Bernard pathetically addresses him-
self to the body in favor of the soul, persua-
ding it to treat the latter honorably, not only
on account of its dignity, but also for the ad-
vantage that will thereby redound to the body
itself: “Thou hast a noble guest, O flesh 1 a
most noble one indeed, and all thy safety de-
pends upon its salvation : it will certainly re-
member thee for good, if thou serve it well;
and when it comes to its Lord, it will put him
in mind of thee, and the mighty God himself
will come to make thee, who art now a vile
body, like unto his glorious One ; and, O
wretched flesh, he who came in humility and
obscurity to redeem souls, will come in great
majesty to gloriſy thee, and every eye shall
see him.”f Be mindful, therefore, young gen-
tlemen, of your better part, and accustom it
to think of its own etermity, always and every-
where having its eyes fixed upon that world
to which it is most nearly related. And thus it
will look down, as from on high, on all those
things which the world considers as lofty and
* Me memo de immortalitate depellet.
f Juvabat de aeternitate animarum quaerere, imo me--
hercule credere: dabam me spei tantae, jam enim reli-
quias infractae getatis contemnebam, in immensum
illud tempus, et in possessionem omnis avis transitu-
rus.-SEN. Epis. 102.
f Nobilem hospitem habes, O caro nobilem valde,
et totatua salus de ejus salute pendet: omnino etian
memor erit tui in bonum, si bene servieris illi; et cum
pervenerit ad Dominum suum, suggeret ei de te, et
veniet ipse Dominus virtutum, et te vile corpus con-
figurabit corpori suo glorioso, qui ad animas redimen-
das humilis ante venerat, et occultus, pro te glorifi-
cando, O misera caro, sublimis veniet et manifestus.
83
658
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
exalted, and will see them under its feet;
and of all the things which are confined
within the narrow verge of this present life,
; will have nothing to desire, and nothing to
€alſ,
*===
LECTURE WI.
HAPPINESS OF THE LIFE TO COME.
OF all the thoughts of men, there is cer-
tainly none that more often occurs to a serious
mind that has its own interest at heart, than
that to which all others are subordinate and
subservient, with regard to the intention, the
ultimate and most desirable end, of all our
toils and cares, and even of life itself. And
this important thought will the more closely
beset the mind, the more sharp-sighted it is
in prying into the real torments, the delusive
hopes, and the false joys of this our wretched
state ; which is indeed so miserable, that it
can never be sufficiently lamented ; and as
for laughter amid so many sorrows, dangers,
and fears, it must be considered as downright
madness. Such was the opinion of the wisest
of kings: I have said of laughter, says he, It
is mad ; and of mirth, What doth it 2. Eccl. ii.
2. We have, therefore, no cause to be much
surprised at the bitter complaints which a
grievous weight of afflictions has extorted,
even from great and good men: nay, it is ra-
ther a wonder, if the same causes do not
often oblige us to repeat them.
If we look about us, how often are we
shocked to observe either the calamities of
our country, or the sad disasters of our rela-
tions and friends, whom we have daily occa-
sion to mourn, either as groaning under the
pressure of poverty, pining away under lan-
guishing diseases, tortured by acute ones, or
carried off by death, while we ourselves are,
in like manner, very soon to draw tears from
the eyes of others' Nay, how often are we
a burden to ourselves, and groan heavily un-
der afflictions of our own, that press hard up-
on our estates, our bodies, or our minds ! Even
those who seem to meet with the fewest and
the least inconveniences in this life, and daz-
zle the eyes of spectators with the brightness
of a seemingly constant and uniform felicity,
beside that they often suffer from secret vexa-
tions and cares which destroy thelr inward
peace, and prey upon their distressed hearts,
how uncertain, weak, and brittle, is that false
happiness which appears about them, and
when it shines brightest, how easily is it bro-
ken to pieces ! So that it has been justly
said, “They want another felicity to secure
that which they are already possessed of.”
If, after all, there are some whose minds are
hardened against all the forms and appear-|.
with equal contempt upon all the events of
this world, whether of a dreadful or an enga-
ging aspect, even this disposition of mind does
not make them happy : nor do they think
themselves so; they have still something to
make them uneasy, the obscure darkness that
overspreads their minds, their ignorance of
heavenly things, and the strength of their car-
nal affections, not yet entirely subdued. And
though these we are now speaking of, are by
far the noblest and most beautiful part of the
human race, yet, if they had not within them
that blessed hope of removing hence, in a
little time, to the regions of light, the more
severely they feel the straits and afflictions to
which their souls are exposed by being shut
up in this narrow earthly cottage, so much
they certainly would be more miserable than
the rest of mankind.
As oft, therefore, as we reflect upon these
things, we shall find that the whole comes to
this one conclusion : “There is certainly
some end ;”*—there is, to be sure, some end
suited to the nature of man, and worthy of it;
some particular, complete, and permanent
good ; and since we in vain look for it within
the narrow verge of this life, and among the
many miseries that swarm on it from begin-
ning to end, we must of necessity conclude
that there is certainly some more fruitful
country, and a more lasting life, to which our
felicity is reserved, and into which we shall
be received when we remove hence. This is
not our rest, nor have we any place of resi-
dence here: it is the region of fleas and gnats;
and while we search for happiness among
these mean and perishing things, we are not
only sure to be disappointed, but also not to
escape those miseries which, in great num-
bers, continually beset us. So that we may
apply to ourselves the saying of the famous
artist confined in the island of Crete, and truly
say, “The earth and the sea are shut up
against us, and neither of them can favor our
escape: the way to heaven is alone open, and
this way we will strive to go.”f
Thus far we have advanced by degrees,
and very lately we have discoursed upon the
immortality of the soul, to which we have
added the resurrection of our earthly body, by
way of appendix. It remains that we now
inquire into the happiness of the life to come.
Yet, I own, I am almost deterred from en-
tering upon this inquiry, by the vast obscuri-
ty and sublimity of the subject, which in its
nature is such, that we can neither understand
it, nor, if we could, can it be expressed in
words. The divine apostle, who had had
some glimpse of this felicity, describes it no
otherwise than by his silence, calling the
words he heard, unspeakable, and such as it
was not lawful for a man to utter.{ 2 Cor.
xii. 4. And if he neither could nor would ex-
ances of external things, and who look down
* Alia felicitate ad illam elicitatem tuendam opus
**Eariv doa ríAos.
# Nec tellus nostrae, nec patet unda fugae,
Restat iter coeli, coelo tentabimus ire.
f"Affnta Āſīpara, a, oºk ełów av6pora, Aaxiigai.
HAPPINESS OF THE LIFE TO COME.
659
press what he saw, far be it from us boldly
to force ourselves into or intrude upon what
we have seen ; especially as the same apos-
tle, in another place, acquaints us, for Our fu-
ture caution, that this was unwarrantably
done by some rash and forward persons in his
own time. But since in the sacred archives
of this new world, however invisible and un-
known to us, we have some maps and de-
scriptions of it suited to our capacity: we are
not only allowed to look at them, but as they
were drawn for that very purpose, it would
certainly be the greatest ingratitude, as well
as the highest negligence in us, not to make
some improvement of them. Here, however,
we must remember what a great odds there
is between the description of a kingdom in a
Small and imperfect map, and the extent and
beauty of that very kingdom when viewed by
the traveller's eye ; and how much greater
the difference must be between the felicity of
that heavenly kingdom to which we are as-
piring, and all, even the most striking figura-
tive expressions, taken from the things of
this earth, that are used to convey some faint
and imperfect notion of it to our minds. What
are these things, the false glare and shadows
whereof, in this earth, are pursued with such
keen and furious impetuosity—riches, honors,
pleasures 2 All these, in their justest, purest,
and sublimest sense, are comprehended in
this blessed life: it is a treasure, that can nei-
ther fail nor be carried away by force or fraud:
it is an inheritance uncorrupted and undefiled,
a crown that fadeth not away; a never-failing
stream of joy and delight: it is a marriage-
feast, and of all others the most joyous and
most sumptuous; one that always satisfies,
and never cloys the appetite : it is an eternal
spring, and an everlasting light, a day with-
out an evening: it is a paradise, where the
lilies are always white and in full bloom, the
Saffron blooming, the trees sweat out their
balsams, and the tree of life in the midst
thereof; it is a city, where the houses are
built of living pearls, the gates of precious
stones, and the streets paved with the purest
gold. Yet, all these are nothing but veils of
the happiness to be revealed on that most
blessed day: nay, the light itself, which we
have mentioned among the rest, though it be
the most beautiful ornament in this visible
world, is at best but a shadow of that heav-
enly glory ; and how small soever that por-
tion of this inaccessible brightness may be,
which, in the sacred Scriptures, shines upon
us through these veils, it certainly very well de-
serves that we should often turn our eyes tow-
ard it, and view it with the closest attention.
1. Now, the first that necessarily occurs in
the constitution of happiness, is a full and
complete deliverance from every evil and ev-
ery grievance; which we may as certainly
expect to meet with in that heavenly life, as
it is impossible to be attained while we so-
journ here below. All tears shall be wiped
away from our eyes, and every cause and oc-
casion of tears for ever removed from our
sight. There, there are no tumults, no wars,
no poverty, no death, nor disease; there,
there is neither mourning, nor fear, nor sin,
which is the source and fountain of all other
evils: there is neither violence within doors
nor without, nor any complaint, in the streets
of that blessed city. There, no friend goes
out, nor enemy comes in.
2. Full vigor of body and mind, health,
beauty, purity, and perfect tranquillity.
3. The most delightful society of angels,
prophets, apostles, martyrs, and all the saints;
among whom there are no reproaches, conten-
tions, controversies, nor party-spirit, because
there are, there, none of the sources whence
they can spring, nor anything to encourage
their growth ; for there is, there, particularly,
no ignorance, no blind self-love, no vain-glory
nor envy, which is quite excluded from those
divine regions; but, on the contrary, perfect
charity, whereby every one, together with his
own felicity, enjoys that of his neighbors, and
is happy in the one as well as the other :
hence there is among them a kind of infinite
reflection and multiplication of happiness,
like that of a spacious hall adorned with gold
and precious stones, dignified with a full as-
sembly of kings and potentates, and having
its walls quite covered with the brightest
looking-glasses.
4. But what infinitely exceeds, and quite
eclipses all the rest, is that boundless ocean
of happiness, which results from the beatific
vision of the ever-blessed God; without which,
neither the tranquillity they enjoy, nor the
Society of saints, nor the possession of any
particular finite good, nor indeed of all such
taken together, can satisfy the soul, or make
it completely happy. The manner of this
enjoyment we can only expect to understand,
when we enter upon the full possession of it;
till then, to dispute and raise many questions
about it, is nothing but vain, foolish talking,
and fighting with phantoms of our own brain.
But the schoolmen, who confine the whole
of this felicity to bare speculation, or, as they
call it, actus intellectualis, an intellectual act,
sre, in this, as in many other cases, guilty
of great presumption, and their conclusion is
built upon a very weak foundation. For al-
though 㺠be the highest and no-
blest act of the mind, yet complete happiness
necessarily requires some present good suited
to the whole man, the whole soul, and ałl its
faculties. Nor is it any objection to this doc-
trine, that the whole of this felicity is com-
monly comprehended in Scripture under the
term of vision ; for the mental vision, or con-
templation of the primary and infinite good,
most properly signifies, or at least includes in
it, the full enjoyment of that good ; and the
observation of the Rabbins concerning Scrip-
ture phrases, “That words expressing the
senses, include also the affections naturally
arising from those sensations,” is very well
* Verba sensus connotant affectus,
660
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
known. Thus knowing is often put for appro-
ving and loving; and seeing for enjoying and
attaining. Taste and see that God is good,
says the psalmist. And, in fact, it is no
Small pleasure to lovers to dwell together,
and mutually to enjoy the sight of one anoth-
er. “Nothing is more agreeable to lovers,
than to live together.” º
We must, therefore, by all means conclude,
that this beatific vision includes in it not only
a distinct and intuitive knowledge of God,
but, so to speak, such a knowledge as gives
us the enjoyment of that most perfect Being,
and, in some sense, unites us to him ; for
such a vision it must, of necessity, be, that
converts that love of the Infinite Good which
blazes in the souls of the saints, into full pos-
session; that crowns all their wishes, and
fills them with an abundant and overflowing
fulness of joy, that vents itself in everlasting
blessings and songs of praise.
And this is the only doctrine, if you believe
it (and I make no doubt but you do), this, I
Say, is the only doctrine that will transport
your whole souls, and raise them up on high.
Hence you will learn to trample under feet
all the turbid and muddy pleasures of the flesh,
and all the allurements and splendid trifles
of the present world. However those earthly
enjoyments that are swelled up, by false
names and the strength of imagination, to a
vast size, may appear grand and beautiful,
and still greater and more engaging to those
that are unacquainted with them; how small,
how inconsiderable do they all appear to a
soul that looks for a heavenly country, that
expects to share the joys of angels, and has
its thoughts constantly employed about these
objects' To conclude, the more the soul
withdraws, so to speak, from the body, and
retires within itself, the more it rises above
itself; and the more closely it cleaves to
God, the more the life it lives in this earth
resembles that which it will enjoy in heaven,
and the larger foretastes it has of the first-
fruits of that blessed harvest. Aspire, there-
fore, to holiness, young gentlemen, without
which no man shall see the Lord.
*-ºs-
LECTURE WII.
THE BEING OF GOD.
THough, on most subjects, the opinions of
men are various, and often quite opposite, in-
somuch that they seem to be more remarka-
ble for the vast variety of their sentiments,
than that of their faces and languages; there
are, however, two things wherein all nations
are agreed, and in which there seems to be a
perfect harmony throughout the whole human
race—the desire 3. happiness and a sense of
religion. The former no man desires to
shake off: and though some, possibly, would
willingly part with the latter, it is not in their
*’Ovčevoira, roy $íAwy w; ro ovšny.
power to eradicate it entirely: they can not
banish God altogether out of their thoughts,
nor extinguish every spark of religion within
them. It is certainly true, that, for the most
part, this desire of happiness wanders in dark-
ness from one object to another without fix-
ing upon any ; and the sense of religion is
either suffered to lie inactive, or deviates into
superstition. Yet, the great Creator of the
world employs these two, as the materials of
a fallen building, to repair the ruins of the
human race, and as handles whereby he
draws his earthern vessels out of the deep
gulf of misery into which it is fallen.
Of the former of these, that is, felicity, we
have already spoken on another occasion : we
shall therefore now, with Bivine assistance,
employ some part of our time in considering
that sense of religion which is naturally im-
pressed on the mind of man.
Nor will our labor, I imagine, be unprofit-
ably employed in collecting together those
few general principles in which so many and
so very dissimilar forms of religion and sen-
timents, extremely different, harmoniously
agree; for, as every science most properly
begins with universal propositions and things
more generally known, so, in the present
case, besides the other advantages, it will be
no small support to a weak and wavering
mind, that amid all the disputes and conten-
tions subsisting between the various sects and
parties in religion, the great and necessary ar-
ticles, at least, of our faith, are established in
some particulars by the general consent of
mankind, and, in all the rest, by that of the
whole Christian world.
I would therefore most earnestly wish, that
your minds, rooted and established in the
ſº were firmly united in this delightful
ond of religion, which, like a golden chain,
will be no burden, but an ornament; not a
yoke of slavery, but a badge of true and gen-
erous liberty. I would by no means have you
to be Christians upon the authority of mere
tradition, or education, and the example and
precepts of parents and masters, but purely
from a full conviction of your own under-
standings, and a fervent disposition of the will
and affections proceeding therefrom. For pi-
ety “is the sole and only good among man-
kind,” and you can expect none of the fruits
of religion, unless the root of it be well laid,
and firmly established by faith : “for all the
virtues are the daughters of faith,”f says
Clemens Alexandrinus.
Lucretius, with very ill-advised praises,
extols his favorite Grecian philosopher as one
fallen down from heaven to be the deliverer of
mankind, and dispel their distressing terrors
and fears, because he fancied he had found
out an effectual method to banish all religion
entirely out of the minds of men. And to
say the truth, in no age has there been want-
* “Ev yāp kai pāvov čv dv6pérois dyadév # £večBeta.
Trismegist.
f Hāgat yāp dperaí tria rews 6vyárepes.
THE BEING OF GOD.
661
ing brutish souls, too much enslaved to their
corporeal senses, who would wish these opin-
ions to be true; yet, after all, there are very
few of them who are able to persuade them-
selves of the truth of those vicious principles
which, with great impudence and importu-
nity, they commonly inculcate upon others:
they belch out with full mouth their foolish
dreams, often in direct opposition to con-
science and knowledge; and what they un-
happily would wish to be true, they can
scarcely, if at all, believe themselves. You
are acquainted with Horace's recantation,
wherein he tells us, that “he had been long
bigoted to the mad tenets of the Epicurean
philosophy, but found himself at last obliged
to alter his sentiments, and deny all he had
asserted before.”
Some souls lose the whole exercise of their
reason, because they inform bodies which
labor under the defect of temperament or of
proper organs; yet, you continue to give
the old definition of man, and call him
a rational creature ; and should any one
think proper to call him a religious creature,
he would, to be sure, have as much reason on
his side, and needed not fear his opinion
would be rejected, because of a few madmen
who laugh at religion. Nor is it improbable,
as some of the ancients have asserted, that
those few among the Greeks who were called
Atheists, had not that epithet because they
absolutely denied the being of God, but only
because they rejected and justly laughed at
the fictitious and ridiculous deities of the na-
tions.
Of all the institutions and customs received
among men, we meet with nothing more sol-
emn and general that of religion and sacred
rites performed to the honor of some deity;
which is a very strong argument, that that
persuasion, in preference to any other, is
written, nay, rather engraven, in strong and
indelible characters upon the mind of man.
This is, as it were, the name of the great
Creator stamped upon the noblest of all his
visible works, that thus man may acknowl-
edge himself to be his, and, concluding from
the inscription he finds impressed upon his
mind, that what belongs to God ought, in
strict justice, to be restored to him,f be whol-
ly reunited to his first principle, that immense
Ocean of goodness whence he took his rise.
The distemper that has invaded mankind is,
indeed, grievous and epidemical: it consists
in a mean and degenerate love to the body
and corporeal things, and, in consequence of
this, a stupid and brutish forgetfulness of God,
though he can never be entirely blotted out
of the mind. This forgetfulness, a few, and
but very, alarmed and awakened by the Di-
vine rod, early shake off. And even in the
most stupid, and such as are buried in the
* Parcus Deorum cultor et infrequens.
Insanientis dum sapientiae
Consultus erro, &c. Od. xxxiv., lib. 1.
fTa roi, Geod rº, Geº.
deepest sleep, the original impression some-
times discovers itself when they are under
the pressure of some grievous calamity, or on
the approach of danger, and especially upon
a near prospect of death. Then, the thoughts
of God, that had lain hid and been long sup-
pressed, forced out by the weight of pain and
the impressions of fear, come to be remem-
bered; and the whole soul being, as it were,
roused out of its long and deep sleep, men be-
gin to look about them, inquire what the
matter is, and seriously reflect whence they
came, and whither they are going. Then,
the truth comes naturally from their hearts.
The stormy sea alarmed even profane sailors
so much, that they awaked the sleeping
prophet: Awake, say they, thou sleeper, and
call upon thy God. Jonah i. 6.
But however weak or imperfect this origi-
nal or innate knowledge of God may be, it
discovers itself everywhere so far, at least,
that you can meet with no man, or society of
men, that?by some form of worship or cere-
monies, do not acknowledge a Deity, and, ac-
cording to their capacity, and the custom of
their country, pay him homage. It is true,
some late travellers have reported, that, in
that part of the new world called Brazil,
there are some tribes of the natives among
whom you can discover no symptoms that
they have the least sense of a Deity: but, be-
sides that the truth of this report is very far
from being well ascertained, and that the
observation might have been too precipitately
made by new-comers who had not made suf-
ficient inquiry—even supposing it to be true,
it is not of such consequence, when opposed
to all the rest of the world, and the universal
agreement of all nations and ages upon this
subject, that the least regard should be paid
to it. Nor must we imagine that it at all les-
sens the weight of this great argument, which
has been generally and most justly urged,
both by ancients and moderns, to establish
the first and common foundation of religion.
Now, whoever accurately considers this
universal sense of religion of which we have
been speaking, will find that it comprehends
in it these particulars: 1. That there is a God.
2. That he is to be worshipped. 3. Which
is a consequence of the former, that he re-
gards the affairs of men. 4. That he has
given them a law, enforced by rewards and
punishments, and that the distribution of
these is, in a very great measure, reserved to
a life different from that we live in this
earth, is the firm belief, if not of all, at least
of the generality of mankind. And though
our present purpose does not require that we
should confirm the truth of all these points
with those strong arguments that might be
urged in their favor, but rather that we should
take them for granted, as being sufficiently
established by the common consent of man-
kind ; we shall, however, subjoin a few
thoughts on each of them separately, with as
great brevity and perspicuity as we can.
662
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
1. THAT THERE Is A GoD. And here I can
not help fearing, that when we endeavor to
confirm this leading truth, with regard to the
first and uncreated being, by a long and labor-
ed series of arguments, we may seem, instead
of a service, to do a kind of injury to God and
man both. For why should we use the pitiful
light of a candle to discover the sun, and
eagerly go about to prove the being of Him
who gave being to everything else—who
alone exists necessarily, nay, we may boldly
say, who alone exists; seeing all other things
were by him extracted out of nothing, and,
when compared with him, they are nothing,
and even less than nothing, and vanity ? And
would not any man think himself insulted,
should it be suspected that he doubted of the
being of Him, without whom he could neither
doubt, nor think, nor be at all ? This persua-
sion, without doubt, is innate, and strongly
impressed upon the mind of man, if anything
at all can be said to be so.” Nor does Iam-
blicus scruple to say, that “to kaow God is
our very being ;”f, and in another place,
that “it is the very being of the soul to know
God, on whom it depends.”f Nor would he
think amiss, who, in this, should espouse the
opinion of Plato ; for, to know this, is nothing
more than to call to remembrance what was
formerly impressed upon the mind; and when
one forgets, it (which, alas ! is too much the
case of us all), he has as many remembrancers,
so to speak, within him, as he has members,
and as many without him, as the individuals
of the vast variety of creatures to be seen
around him. Let, therefore, the indolent soul
that has almost forgot God, be roused up, and
every now and then say to itself, “Behold
this beautiful starry heaven,” &c.
But because we have too many of that sort
of fools that say in their heart, “There is no
God” (and if we are not to answer a fool, so
as to be like unto him, yet we are, by all
mgans, to answer him according to his folly,
lest he be wise in his own conceit); again, be-
cause a criminal forgetfulness of this leading
truth is the sole source of all the wickedness
in the world; and finally, because it may not
be quite unprofitable, nor unpleasant, even to
the best of men, sometimes to recollect their
thoughts on this subject, but, on the contrary,
a very pleasant exercise to every well-dispo-
sed, mind, to reflect upon what a solid and
unshaken foundation the whole fabric of re-
ligion is built, and to think and speak of the
Eternal Fountain of goodness and of all other
beings, and consequently of his necessary ex-
istence ; we reckon it will not be amiss to
give a few thoughts upon it. Therefore, not
to insist upon several arguments, which are
urged with great advantage on this subject,
we shall produce only one or two, and shall
reason thus.
* Primum visibile lux, et primum intelligibile Deus.
f Esse nostrum est Deum cognoscere.
f Esse animae, est quoddam intelligere, scilicet
Fleum, unde dependet.
It is by all means necessary that there
should be some eternal being, otherwise noth-
ing could ever have been ; since it must be a
most shocking contradiction to say, that any-
thing could have produced itself out of noth-
ing. But if we say, that anything existed
from eternity, it is most agreeable to reason
that that should be an Eternal Mind, or Think-
ing Being, that so the noblest property may be
ascribed to the most exalted being. Nay, that
Eternal Being must, of absolute necessity, ex-
cel in wisdom and power, and, indeed, in
every other perfection, since it must itself be
uncreated, and the cause and origin of all the
creatures; otherwise, some difficulty will re-
main concerning their production. And thus,
all the parts of the universe, taken singly,
suggest arguments in favor of their Creator.
The beautiful order of the universe, and
the mutual relation that subsists between all
its parts, present us with another strong and
convincing argument. This order is itself an
effect, and, indeed, a wonderful one ; and it
is also evidently distinct from the things them-
selves, taken singly ; therefore it must pro-
ceed from some cause, and a cause endowed
with superior wisdom : for it would be the
greatest folly, as well as impudence, to say
it could be owing to mere chance. Now, it
could not proceed from man, nor could it be
owing to any concert or mutual agreement
between the things themselves, separately
considered : seeing the greatest part of them
are evidently incapable of consultation and
concert: it must, therefore, proceed from some
one superior being, and that being is GOD,
“who commanded the stars to move by stated
laws, the fruits of the earth to be produced
at different seasons, the changeable moon to
shine with borrowed light, and the sun with
his own.”*
He is the monarch of the universe, and the
most absolute monarch in nature. For who
else assigned to every rank of creatures its
particular form and uses, so that the stars,
subjected to no human authority or laws,
should be placed on high, and serve to bring
about to the earth and the inhabitants thereof
the regular returns of day and night, an a dis-
tinguish the seasons of the year? I.et us take,
in particular, any one species of sublunary
things, for instance, man, the noblest of all,
and see how he came by the form wherewith
he is invested, that frame or constitution of
body, that vigor of mind, and that precise
rank in the nature of things, which he now
obtains, and no other. He must, certainly,
either have made choice of these things for
himself, or must have had them assigned him
by another, whom we must consider as the
principal actor, and sole architect of the whole
fabric. That he made choice of them for
himself, nobody will imagine; for either he
# - Qui lege moveri
Sidera, qui fruges diverso tempore nasci,
Qui variam Phoeben alino jusserit igne
Compleri, solemaue suo.
THE BEING OF GOD.
663
made this choice before he had any existence
of his own, or after he began to be : but it is
not easy to say which of these suppositions is
most absurd. It remains, therefore, that he
must be indebted for all he enjoys, to the mere
good pleasure of his great and all-wise Creator,
who framed his earthly body in such a won-
derful and surprising manner, animated him
with his own breath, and thus introduced him
into this great palace of his, which we now
behold, where his manifold wisdom, most
properly so called, displays itself so glorious-
ly in the whole machine, and in every one of
its wonderfully variegated parts.
The first argument, taken from the very be-
ing of things, may be further illustrated by
the same instance of man. For unless the
first man was created, we must suppose an
infinite series of generations from etermity, and
so, the human race must be supposed inde-
pendent, and to owe its being to itself. But,
by this hypothesis, mankind came into the
world by generation, therefore every individual
of the race owes its being to another ; conse-
quently, the whole race is from itself, and at
the same time from another, which is absurd.
Therefore, the hypothesis implies a plain and
evident contradiction. “O ! immense wisdom
that produced the world ! Let us for ever
admire the riches and skill of thy right hand;”
often viewing with attention thy wonders, and,
while we view them, frequently crying out
with the divine psalmist, O Lord, how mani-
fold are thy works In wisdom hast thou
made them all. The earth is full of thy riches /
Psalm civ. 24. From everlasting to everlast-
ing thou art God, and besides thee, there is
no other. Psalm x.c. 2. And with Hermes,
“The Father of all, being himself under-
standing, life, and brightness, created man
like himself, and cherished him as his own
son. Thou Creator of universal nature, who
hast extended the earth, who poisest the
heavens, and commandest the waters to flow
from all parts of the sea, we praise thee, who
art the one exalted God, for by thy will all
things are perfected.”f The same author as-
serts that “God was prior to human nature.”
In vain would any one endeavor to evade
the force of our argument, by substituting
nature in the place of God, as the principal
and cause of this beautiful order. For either,
by nature, he understands the particular frame
and composition of every single thing; which
would be saying nothing at all to the purpose
in hand, because it is evident, that this mani-
fold nature, which in most instances is quite
void of reason, could never be the cause of
that beautiful order and harmony which is
everywhere conspicuous throughout the whole
* O ! immensa, opifex rerum sapiential dextrae
Divitias artemque tuæ miremur in evum.
f'O Távrov rarip 5 vois àv Šon kai hās arekvåge av000-
row of npagón Ög iólov rákov, Tſáons pâgeós Kríarms 6
rñčas rivyny kai oilpavov kpepágas kai £rtráčas royMuk?
$600 £; auroë roi, Aksavoi, Širapyetv, juvânev de Tá rāv, Kai
rá čv, goi yüp BovXoupevov Tavra rºcirat.
system: or, he means a universal and intelli-
gent nature disposing and ordering everything
to advantage. But this is only another name
for God; of whom it may be said, in a sacred
sense, that he, as an infinite nature and mind,
pervades and fills all his works. Not as an
informing form, according to the expression
of the schools, and as the part of a compound-
ed whole ; which is the idlest fiction that can
be imagined, for, at this rate, he must not
only be a part of the vilest insects, but also
of stocks and stones, and clods of earth : but
a pure, unmixed nature, which orders and
governs all things with the greatest freedom
and wisdom, and supports them with un-
wearied and ałmighty power. In this accep-
tation, when you name nature, you mean God.
Seneca's words are very apposite to this pur-
pose. “Whithersoever you turn yourself, you
See God meeting you ; nothing excludes his
presence ; he fills all his works. Therefore, it
is in vain for thee, most ungrateful of all men,
to say thou art not indebted to God, but to Na-
ture, because they are, in fact, the same. If
thou hadst received anything from Seneca,
and should say, thou owedst it to Annaeus or
Lucius, thou wouldst not thereby change thy
creditor, but only his name, because, whether
thou mentionest his name or his surname, his
person is still the same.”
An evident and most natural consequence
of this universal and necessary idea of a God,
is, his unity. All who mention the term God,
intend to convey by it the idea of the first,
most exalted, necessarily existent, and infinite-
ly perfect being ; and it is plain, there can be
but one being endued with all these perfec-
tions. Nay, even the polytheism that pre-
Vailed among the heathen nations was not
carried so far, but that they acknowledged
one God, by way of eminènce, as supreme
and absolutely above all the rest, whom they
styled the greatest and best of Beings, and
the Father of gods and men. From him all
the rest had their being and all that they were,
and from him, also, they had the title of gods,
but still in a limited and subordinate sense.
In confirmation of this, we meet with very
many of the clearest testimonies with regard
to the unity of God, in the works of all the
heathen authors. That of Sophocles is very
remarkable: “there is indeed,” says he, “one
God, and but one, who has made the heavens,
and the wide extended earth, the blue surges
of the sea, and the strength of the winds.”f
As to the mystery of the sacred" Trinity,
* Quocungue te flexeris, ibi Deum vides occurrentem
tibi, nihil abillo vacat ; opes suum ipse implet: ergo
nihil agis, ingratissime mortalium, quite negas Deo
debere, sed naturae, quia eidem est utrumque officium.
Si quid a Seneca accepisses, et Annæo te diceres
debere vel Lucio, non creditorém mutares, sed nomen,
quoniam sive momen ejus dicas, sive praenomen, sive
cognomen, idem tamen ipse est. SENECA, 4. de
Benef.
fEis rais dAmbevatow, eis $orív Beós,
s of avów T' £revče kaiyatav pakpáv
IIóvrov re Xaparov judua kai aveudöv 8was.
664
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
which has a near and necessary connexion
with the present subject, I always thought it
was to be received and adored with the most
humble faith, but by no means to be curiously
searched into, or perplexed with the absurd
questions of the schoolmen. We fell by an
arrogant ambition after knowledge; by mere
faith we rise again, and are reinstated. And
this mystery, indeed, rather than any other,
seems to be a tree of knowledge, prohibited
to us while we sojourn in these mortal bodies,
This most profound mystery, though obscurely
represented by the shadows of the Old Testa-
ment, rather than clearly revealed, was not
unknown to the most ancient and celebrated
doctors among the Jews, nor altogether un-
attested, however obstimately later authors
may maintain the contrary. Nay, learned
lmen have observed, that the Father, Son, and
Holy Ghost, are expressly acknowledged in
the books of the cabalists, and they produce
Surprising things to this purpose out of the
book of Zohar, which is ascribed toR. Simeon,
Ben Joch, and some other cabalistical writers.
Nay, the book just now mentioned, after say-
ing a great deal concerning the Three in One
essence, adds, “That this secret will not be
revealed to all till the coming of the Messias.”
I insist not upon what is said of the name
consisting of twelve letters, and another lar-
ger one of forty-two, as containing a fuller
explication of that most sacred name, which
they call Hammephorash.f
Nor is it improbable, that some dawn, at
least, of this mystery had reached even the
heathen philosophers. There are some who
think they can prove, by arguments of no in-
considerable weight, that Anaxagoras, by his
vois, or mind, meant nothing but the Son, or
Wisdom that made the world. But the testi-
monies are clearer, which you find frequent-
ly among the Platonic philosophers, concern-
ing the Three subsisting from one ºf more-
over, they all call the self-earisting Being, the
creating word, or, the mind and the soul of
the world. || But the words of the Egyptian
Hermes are very surprising: “The mind,
which is God, together with his word, pro-
duced another creating-mind; nor do they
differ from one another, for their union is
life.”
But what we now insist upon is the plain
and evident necessity of one Supreme, and
therefore, of one Only Principle of all things,
and the harmonious agréement of mankind
in the belief of the absolute necessity of this
same principle.
This is the God whom we admire, whom
we worship, whom we entirely love, or, at
* Hoc arcanum non revelabitur unicuique, quousque
venerit Messias.
f Maim. Mor. Nev., part. i., c. 16.
IIspí rptöv šč Švos ūrográvrov.
| Tó duró, 6v row &mptovgyov Moyov, Seu vojv, kai rāv
rov kóopov puxnv.
§'O vois 626s arekvnos Aoyº erepov voiv ðmptowpyöv, dAA'
90 diſgravrat ān' dx^n\ów, evogus yúo rońrov čarív # 50%.
least, whom we desire to love above all
things; whom we can neither express in
words, nor conceive in our thoughts; and the
less we are capable of these things, so much
the more necessary it is to adore him with
the profoundest humility, and to love him
with the greatest intentness and fervor.
**mº.
LECTURE WIII.
THE WORSHIP OF GOD, PROVIDENCE, AND THE
I, AW GIVEN TO MAN.
THOUGH I thought it by no means proper to
proceed without taking notice of the argu-
ments that serve to confirm the first and lead-
ing truth of religion, and the general consent
of mankind with regard to it; yet the end I
chiefly proposed to myself, was to examine
this consent, and point out its force, and the
use to which it ought to be applied ; to call
off your minds from the numberless disputes
about religion, to the contemplation of this
universal agreement, as into a more quiet
and peaceable country ; and to show you,
what I wish I could effectually convince you
of, that there is more weight and force in this
universal harmony and consent of mankind in
a few of the great and universal principles, to
confirm our minds in the sum and substance
of religion, than the innumerable disputes
that still subsist with regard to the other
points, ought to have to discourage us in the
exercise of true piety, or in the least to weak-
en our faith.
In consequence of this, it will be proper to
lay before you the other propositions contained
in this general consent of mankind, with re-
gard to religion. Now, the first of these be-
ing, that there is one, and but one Eternal
principle of all things; from this it will most
naturally follow, that this Principle or Deity
is to be honored with some worship; and
from these two taken together, it must be,
with the same necessity, concluded, that
there is a providence, or, that God doth not
despise or neglect the world which he has
created, and mankind by whom he ought to
be, and actually is worshipped, but governs
them with the most watchful and perfect wis-
dom. *
All mankind acknowledge, that some kind
of worship is due to God, and that to per-
form it is by all means worthy of man; and
upon the minds of all is strongly impressed
that sentiment which Lactantius expressed
with great perspicuity and brevity in these
words, “To know God is wisdom, and to wor-
ship him, justice.”
In this worship some things are natural,
and therefore of more general use among all
nations, such as vows and prayers, hymns and
praises; as also some bodily gestures, espe-
cially such as seem most proper to express
* Deum nosse, sapientia; colere, justitia.
THE WORSHIP OF GOD.
665
reverence and respect. All the rest, for the
most part, actually consist of ceremonies,
either of Divine institution or human inven-
tion. Of this sort are sacrifices, the use
whereof in old times, very much prevailed in
all nations, and still continues in the greater
part of the world.
A Majesty so exalted, no doubt, deserves
the highest honor, and the sublimest praises
on his own account; but still if men were
not persuaded that the testimonies of homage
and respect they offer to God, were known
to him, and accepted of him, even on this ac-
count all human piety would cool and pres-
ently disappear ; and indeed, prayers and
vows, whereby we implore the Divine assist-
ance, and solicit blessings from above, offer-
ed to a God, who neither hears nor in the
least regards them, would be an instance of
the greatest folly; nor is it to be imagined,
that all nations would ever have agreed in
the extravagant custom of addressing them-
selves to gods that did not hear.
Supposing, therefore, any religion, or di-
wine worship, it immediately follows there-
from, that there is also a providence. This
was acknowledged of old, and is still ac-
knowledged by the generality of all nations
throughout the world, and the most famous
philosophers. There were, indeed, particu-
lar men, and some whole sects that denied it.
Others, who acknowledged a kind of Provi-
dence, confined it to the heavens, among
whom was Aristotle, as appears from his
book De Mundo ; which notion is justly
slighted by Nazianzen, who calls it “a mere
limited Providence.” Others allowed it
some place in things of this world, but only
extended it to generals, in opposition to indi-
viduals. But others, with the greatest justice,
acknowledged that all things, even the most
minute and inconsiderable, were the objects
of it. “He fills his own work, nor is he only
over it, but also in it.”f Moreover, if we as-
cribe to God the origin of this fabric and all
things in it, it will be most absurd and incon-
sistent to deny him the preservation and gov-
ernment of it: for, if he does not preserve and
govern his creatures, it must be either be-
cause he can not, or because he will not; but
his infinite power and wisdom make it impos-
sible to doubt of the former, and his infinite
goodness, of the latter. The words of Epic-
tetus are admirable: “There were five
great men,” said he, “ of which number were
Ulysses and Socrates, who said that they could
not so much as move without the knowledge
of God.”f And in another place, “If I was
a nightingale, I would act the part of a night-
ingale; if a swan, that of a Swan; now that
* MikpóAoyov ſpóvotav.
f Opus suum ipse, implet, nec solum preest, sed
inest.
f IIsºrro de óv #v kai odogotás, kai Xospárºs, bi Aeyov-
res, bri odós are\ff00 ktvouplevos. ARRIAN., lib. 1., Cap. 12.
Hept 6eóov, &c.
I am a reasonable creature, it is my duty to
praise God.”
It would be needless to show, that so great
a fabric could not stand without some being
properly qualified to watch over it; that the
unerring course of the stars is not the effect
of blind fortune; that what chance sets on
foot, is often put out of order, and soon falls
to pieces; that, therefore, this unerring and
regular velocity is owing to the influence of a
fixed, eternal law. It is, to be sure, a very
great miracle, merely to know so great a mul-
titude, and such a vast variety of things, not
only particular towns, but also provinces and
kingdoms, even the whole earth, all the
myriads of creatures that crawl upon the
earth, and all their thoughts ; in a word, at
the same instant to hear and see all that hap-
pens f on both hemispheres of this globe:
how much more wonderful must it be, to
rule and govern all these at once, and, as it
were, with one glance of the eye | When
we consider this, may we not cry out with
the poet, “O thou great Creator of heaven
and earth, who governest the world with con-
stant and unerring sway, who biddest time to
flow throughout ages, and continuing un-
moved thyself, givest motion to everything
else,” &c.;
It is a great comfort, to have the faith of
this Providence constantly impressed upon
the mind, so as to have recourse to it in the
midst of all confusions, whether public or
private, and all calamities from without or
from within; to be able to say—the great
King, who is also my Father, is the supreme
ruler of all these things, and with him all my
interests are secure; to stand firm, with Mo-
ses, when no relief appears, and to look for
the salvation of God from on high, and, final-
ly in every distress, when all hope of human
assistance is swallowed up in despair, to have
the remarkable saying of the father of the
faithful stamped upon the mind, and to si-
lence all fears with these comfortable words,
God will provide. In a word, there is nothing
that can so effectually conform the heart of
man, and his inmost thoughts, and conse-
quently the whole tenor of his life, to the
most perfect rule of religion and piety, as a
firm belief and frequent meditation on this
Divine Providence, which superintends and
governs the world. . He who is firmly per-
suaded, that an exalted God of infinite wis-
dom and purity is constantly present with
him, and sees all that he thinks or acts, will,
to be sure, have no occasion to overawe his
mind with the imaginary presence of a Laeli-
* 'Ei pāv dmööv muev, Širotovv rá ràs dimóóvos, et kökvos
rā Toij kökvov, viv će Aoyukos eful §pweiv ps del rov 6sóv.
Ibid. cap. 16.
fllavr' éopºv, kai travrº Šrakoãstv.
f O ! qui perpetua mundum ratione gubernas
Terrarum coelique sator, qui tempus ab avo,
Ire jubes; stabilisque manens das cuncta move-
ri, &c. & tº e ºs
BoETH, de Con. Philosoph, lib. iii., metr. 9.
666
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
us or à Cato. Josephus assigns this as the
source or root of Abel's purity: “In all his
actions,” says he, “he considered that God
was present with him, and therefore made
virtue his constant study.”
Moreover, the heathen nations acknowl-
edge this superintendence of Divine Provi-
dence over human affairs in this very respect,
and that it is exercised in observing the mor-
als of mankind, and in distributing rewards
and punishments. But this supposes some
law or rule, either revealed from heaven or
stamped upon the hearts of men, to be the
measure and test of moral good and evil, that
is, virtue and vice. Man, therefore, is not
Zöov čvopov, a lawless creature, but capable of
a law, and actually born under one, which he
himself is also ready to own. “We are born
in a kingdom,” says the Rabbinical philoso-
pher, “and to obey God is liberty.”f But
this doctrine, however perspicuous and clear
in itself, seems to be a little obscured by one
cloud, that is, the extraordinary success
which bad men often meet with, and the
misfortunes and calamities to which virtue is
frequently exposed. The saying of Brutus,
“O ! wretched virtue, thou art regarded as
nothing,” &c.; is well known : as are also
those elegant verses of the poet, containing a
lively picture of the perplexity of a mind wa-
vering and at a loss upon this subject: “My
mind,” says he, “has often been perplexed
with difficulties and doubts, whether the gods
regard the affairs of this earth, or whether
there was no Providence at all. . . For,
when I considered the order and disposition
of the world, and the boundaries set to the sea
—I thence concluded, that all things were
secured by the providence of God. . . . . But
when I saw the affairs of men involved in so
much darkness and confusion,” &c.|
But not to insist upon a great many other
considerations, which even the philosophy of
the heathens suggested, in vindication of the
doctrine of Providence; there is one consider-
ation of great weight to be set in opposition
to the whole of this prejudice, viz., that it is
an evidence of a rash and forward mind, to
pass sentence upon things that are not yet
perfect and brought to a final conclusion ;
which even the Roman stoic and the philoso-
pher of Cheronea insist upon, at large, on this
subject. "If we will judge from events, let us
put off the cause and delay sentence, till the
whole series of these events come before us;
and let us not pass sentence upon a success-
*IIáow rois dré àvroſſ mparropévous trapetvarov 6sov
woutſov, aperſis irpoveiro. Antiq., lib. i., cap. 3.
f In regno nati Sumus, Deo parere, libertas.
f O TAuov doeri Ös otóēv, &c."
| Sepe mihi dubiam traxit sententia mentem
Curarent superi terras, &c. {.
Nam cum dispositiquaesissem foedera mundi
Praescriptosque maris fines—
— hinc omnia rebar
Consilia firmata Dei, &c.
Sed cum res hominum tanta caligine volvi
Aspicerem, &c.—CLAUDIAN in Rufinum. lib. i.
ful tyrant while he is triumphant before our
eyes, and while we are quite ignorant of the
fate that may be awaiting himself or his son,
or, at least, his more remote posterity. The
ways of Divine justice are wonderful. “Pun-
ishment stalks silently, and with a slow pace;
it will, however, at last overtake the wick-
ed.” But after all, if we expect another
scene of things to be exhibited, not here, but
in the world to come, the whole dispute con-
cerning the events of this short and precari.
ous life, immediately disappears and comes tº
nothing. And to conclude, the consent of
wise men, states, and nations, on this subject,
though it is not quite unanimous and univer-
sal, is very great, and ought to have the great-
est weight.
But all these maxims we have mentioned
are more clearly taught, and more firmly es-
tablished, in the Christian religion, which is
of undoubted truth: it has also some doctrines
peculiar to itself [Kupias Šoćas], annexed to the
former, and most closely connected with them,
in which the whole Christian world, though
by far too much divided with regard to other
disputed articles, are unanimously agreed and
firmly united together.
LECTURE IX.
THE PLEASURE AND UTILITY OF RELIGION,
Though the author of the following passage
was a great proficient in the mad philosophy
of Epicurus, yet he had truth strongly on his
side when he said, that “Nothing was more
pleasant than to be stationed on the lofty
temples, well defended and secured by the
pure and peaceable doctrines of the wise phi-
losophers.”f
Now, can any doctrine be imagined more
wise, more pure and peaceable, and more sa-
cred, than that which flowed from the most
perfect fountain of wisdom and purity, which
was sent down from heaven to earth, that it
might guide all its followers to that happy
place whence it took its rise ? It is, to be
sure, the wisdom of mankind to know God,
and their indispensable duty to worship him.
Without this, men of the brightest parts and
greatest learning seem to be born with excel-
lent talents only to make themselves misera-
ble ; and, according to the expression of the
wisest of kings, He that increaseth knowledge
increaseth sorrow, Eccles. i. 18. We must,
therefore, first of all, consider this as a sure
and settled point, that religion is the sole
foundation of human peace and felicity. This,
even the profane scoffers at religion are, in
some sort, obliged to own, though much
*Xiyā Kai 8padet zoö, a retxovoa Pápipei rods kakoús
ărav ráxn. *
Bene quam munitatemere
Edita doctrină sapientum templa serena.
LucRETIus
THE PLEASURE AND UTILITY OF RELIGION.
667
against their will, even while they are point-
ing their wit against it: for nothing, is more
commonly to be heard from them than that
the whole doctrine of religion was invented
by some wise men to encourage the practice
of justice and virtue through the world. Sure-
ly, then, religion, whatever else may be said
of it, must be a matter of the highest value,
since it is found necessary to secure advan-
tages of so very great importance. But, in
the meantime, how unhappy is the case of
integrity and virtue, if what they want to
support them is merely fictitious, and they
can not keep their ground but by means of a
monstrous forgery ! But far be it from us to
entertain such an absurdity | For the first
rule of righteousness can not be otherwise
than right, nor is there anything more nearly
allied or more friendly to virtue, than truth.
But religion is not only highly conducive
to all the great advantages of human life, but
is also, at the same time, most pleasant and
delightful. Nay, if it is so useful, and abso-
lutely necessary to the interests of virtue, it
must, for this very reason, be also pleasant ;
unless one will call in question a maxim uni-
versally approved by all wise men, that
“Life can not be agreeable without virtue;”
a maxim of such irrefragable and undoubted
truth, that it was adopted even by Epicurus
himself.
How great, therefore, must have been the
madness of that noted Grecian philosopher,
who, while he openly maintained the dignity
and pleasantness of virtue, at the same time
employed the whole force of his understand-
ing to ruin and sap its foundations ! For that
this was his fixed purpose, Lucretius not onl
owns, but also boasts of it, and loads him with
ill-advised praises for endeavoring, through
the whole course of his philosophy, to free
the minds of men from all the bonds and ties
of religion. As if there was no possible way
to make them happy and free without involv-
ing them in the guilt of sacrilege and athe-
ism . As if to eradicate all sense of a Deity
out of the mind, were the only way to free it
from the heaviest chains and fetters | Though
in reality this would be effectually robbing
man of all his valuable jewels, of his golden
crown and chain, all the riches, ornaments,
and pleasures of his life: which is inculcated
at large, and with great eloquence, by a great-
er and more divine master of wisdom, the roy-
al author of the Proverbs, who, speaking of
the precepts of religion, says, They shall be
an ornament of grace unto thy head, and
chains about thy neck: and of religion, under
the name of wisdom, If thou seekest her as
silver, and searchest for her as for hidden
treasure. Happy is the man that findeth wis-
dom, and the man that getteth understanding.
For the merchandise of it is better than the
merchandise of silver, and the gain thereof
than fine gold. Wisdom is the principal
thing ; therefore get wisdom, and with all thy
* 'Ovk etvai hēews ºv dyév ris aperns.
getting, get understanding. Prov. i. 9; ii. 4;
xiii. 14 ; iv. 7.
And it is, indeed, very plain, that if it were
possible entirely to dissolve all the bonds and
ties of religion, yet that it should be so, would
certainly be the interest of none but the worst
and most abandoned part of mankind. All the
good and wise, if the matter was freely left
to their choice, would rather have the world
governed by the Supreme and most perfect
Being, mankind subjected to his just and
righteous laws, and all the affairs of men
superintended by his watchful providence,
than that it should be otherwise. Nor do
they believe the doctrines of religion with
aversion or any sort of reluctancy, but em-
brace them with pleasure, and are excessive-
ly glad to find them true. So that, if it was
possible to abolish them entirely, and any per-
son, out of mere good will to them, should
attempt to do it, they would look upon the
favor as highly prejudicial to their interest,
and think his good will more hurtful than
the keenest hatred. Nor would any one in
his wits choose to live in the world, at large,
and without any sort of government, more
than he would think it eligible to be put on
board a ship without a helm or pilot, and in
this condition to be tossed amid rocks and
quicksands. On the other hand, can anything
give greater consolation, or more substantial
joy,” than to be firmly persuaded, not only
that there is an infinitely good and wise Be-
ing, but also that this being preserves and
continually governs the universe which him-
self has framed, and holds the reins of all
things in his powerful hand; that he is our
Father, that we and all our interests are his
constant concern ; and that after we have so-
journed a short while here below, we shall
be again taken into his immediate presence 3
Or can this wretched life be attended with
any sort of satisfaction, if it is divested of this
Divine faith, and bereaved of such a blessed
hope 2
Moreover, every one who thinks a generous
fortitude and purity of mind preferable to the
charms and muddy pleasures of the flesh,
finds all the precepts of religion not only not
grievous, but exceeding pleasant and extreme-
ly delightful. So that, upon the whole, the
saying of Hermes is very consistent with the
nature of things: “There is one, and but one
good thing among men, and that is religion.”f
Even the vulgar could not bear the degen-
erate expression of the player, who called out
upon the stage, “Money is the chief good
among mankind.”f But should any one say,
“Religion is the principal good of mankind,”
no objection could be made against it ; for,
without doubt, it is the only object the beau:
ties whereof engage the loſe both of God and
Iſla Il.
But the principal things in religion, as I
* Pei Tt roßrov Xáppa pet;ov āv Aa30ís.
f'Ev Kai Hovov, ev div00%rots ayabov # evoreſ?&ia.
f Pecunia magnum generis humani bonum.
.*
668
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
have frequently observed, are just conceptions
of God. Now, concerning this Infinite Being,
some things are known by the light of nature
and reason, others only by the revelation
which he hath been pleased to make of him-
self from heaven. That there is a God, is the
distinct voice of every man, and of everything
without him. How much more, then, shall
we be confirmed in the belief of this truth, if
we attentively view the whole creation, and
the wonderful order and harmony that sub-
sist between all the parts of the whole sys-
tem It is quite unnecessary to show that so
great a fabric could never have been brought
into being without an all-wise and powerful
Creator ; nor could it now subsist without the
same Almighty Being to support and preserve
it. “Let men, therefore, make this their
constant study,” says Lactantius, “even to
know their common Parent and Lord, whose
power can never be perfectly known, whose
greatness can not be fathomed, nor his eter-
nity comprehended.” When the mind of
man, with its faculties, comes to be once
intensely fixed upon him, all other objects
disappearing, and being, as it were, re-
moved quite out of sight, it is entirely at a
stand and overpowered, nor can it possibly
proceed further. But concerning the doctrine
of this vast volume of the works of God, and
that still brighter light which shines forth in
the Scriptures, we shall speak more fully
hereafter.
-º-º:
LECTURE X.
THE DECREES OF GOD.
As the glory and brightness of the Divine
Majesty is so great, that the strongest human
eye can not bear the direct rays of it, he has
exhibited himself to be viewed in the glass
of those works which he created first, and,
by his unwearied hand, continually supports
and governs. Nor are we allowed to view
his eternal counsels and purposes through any
other medium than this. So that, in our cat-
echisms, especially the shorter one, designed
for the instruction of the ignorant, it might,
perhaps, have been full as proper to have
passed over the awful speculation concerning
the Divine decrees, and to have proceeded di-
rectly to the consideration of the works of
God; but the thoughts you find in it, on this
subject, are few, sober, clear, and certain;
and in explaining them, I think it most rea-
sonable and most safe to confine ourselves
within these limits, in any audience what-
ever, but especially in this congregation,
consisting of youths, not to say, in a great
measure, of boys. Seeing, therefore, the de-
crees of God are mentioned in our catechism,
* Ut Parentum suum, Dominumque cognoscanae
cujus nec virtus aestimari potest, nec magnitudo per-
spici, nec eternitas comprehendi. -
and it would not be proper to pass over in si-
lence a matter of so great moment, I shallac-
cordingly lay before you some few thoughts
upon this arduous subject.
And here, if anywhere, we ought, accord-
ing to the common saying, to reason but in
few words. I should, indeed, think it very
improper to do otherwise ; for such theories
ought to be cautiously touched, rather than
be spun out to a great length. One thing we
may confidently assert, that all those things
which the great Creator produces in different
periods of time, were perfectly known to him,
and, as it were, present with him, from eter-
nity; and that everything that happens,
throughout the several ages of the world,
proceeds in the same order and same precise
manner as the Eternal Mind at first intended
it should ; that none of his counsels can be
disappointed or rendered ineffectual, or in the
least changed or altered by any event what-
soever. Known to God are all his works,
says the apostle in the council of Jerusalem.
Acts xv. 18. And the son of Sirach, God sees
from everlasting to everlasting, and nothing
is wonderful in his sight. Nothing is new or
unexpected to him; nothing can come to pass
that he has not foreseen. And his first
thoughts are so wise, that they admit no sec-
ond ones that can be supposed wiser. And
this stability and immutability of the Divine
decrees, is asserted even by the Roman phi-
losopher: “It is necessary,” says he, “that
the same things be always pleasing to him,
who can never be pleased but with what is
best.”%
Every artist, to be sure, as you also well
know, works according to some patterm,
which is the immediate object of his mind;
and this pattern, in the all-wise Creator, must
necessarily be entirely perfect, and every way
complete. And if this is what Plato intend-
ed by his ideas (which, not a few, and these
by no means unlearned, think very likely),
his own scholar, the great Stagyrite, and
your favorite philosopher, had, surely, no
reason so often and so bitterly to inveigh
against them. Be this as it may, all who
acknowledge God to be the author of this
wonderful fabric, and all these things in it,
which succeed one another in their turns,
can not possibly doubt that he has brought,
and continues to bring them all about, ac-
cording to that most perfect pattern subsist-
ing in his eternal councils; and that these
things that we call casual, are all unalterably
fixed and determined to him. For according
to that of the philosopher, “Where there is
most wisdom, there is least chance,”f and
therefore, surely, where there is infinite wis-
dom, there is nothing left to chance at all.
This maxim, concerning the eternal coun-
sels of the supreme Sovereign of the world,
besides that it everywhere shines clearly in
* Necesse est illi eadem semper placere, cui nisi
optima placere non possunt: . . .
f Ubi plus est sapientiae, ibi minus est casus
THE DECREES OF GOD.
669
the books of the sacred Scriptures, is also, in
itself, so evident and consistent with reason,
that we meet with it in almost all the works
of the philosophers, and often, also, in those
of the poets. "Nor does it appear, that they
mean anything else, at least, for the most
part, by the term fate ; though you may
meet with some things in their works, which,
I own, sound a little harsh, and can scarcely
be sufficiently softened by any, even the most
favorable interpretation.
But, whatever else may seem to be com-
prehended under the term fate, whether ta-
ken in the mathematicial or physical sense,
as some are pleased to distinguish, it must at
last of necessity be resolved into the appoint-
ment and good pleasure of the supreme Gov-
ernor of the world. . If even the blundering
astrologers and fortune-tellers acknowledge,
that the wise man has dominion over the
stars; how much more evident is it, that all
these things, and all their power and influ-
ence, are subject and subservient to the de-
crees of the all-wise God! Whence the say-
ing of the Hebrews, “There is no planet to
Israel.”%
And according as all these things in the
heavens above and the earth beneath, are
daily regulated and directed by the Eternal
King, in the same precise manner were they
all from etermity ordered and disposed by
him, who worketh all things according to the
counsel of his own will, Eph. i. 11, who is
more ancient than the sea and the mountains,
or even the heavens themselves.
These things we are warranted, and it is
safe, to believe. But what perverseness, or
rather madness, is it, to endeavor to break
into the sacred repositories of heaven, and
pretend to accommodate those secrets of the
Divine kingdom to the measures and meth-
ods of our weak capacities ' To say the
truth, I acknowledge that I am astonished
and greatly at a loss, when I hear learned
men, and professors of theology, talking
presumptuously about the order of the Di-
vine decrees, and when I read such things in
their works. “Paul,” says St. Chrysostom,
“considering this awful subject as an im-
mense sea, was astonished at it, and viewing
the vast abyss, started back, and cried out
with a loud voice, Oh! the depth / "f Nor
is there much more sobriety or moderation
in the many notions that are entertained, and
the disputes that are commonly raised, about
reconciling these Divine decrees with the
liberty and free-will of man.
It is indeed true, that neither religion nor
right reason will suffer the actions and de-
signs of men, and consequently, even the
very motions of the will, to be exempted
from the empire of the counsel and good
pleasure of God. Even the books of the
* Non est planetam Israeli.
f'O IIāvXog ãotep rpós réAayos ărepov i\iyyidras kai
Ba6vs idov dyavés, Šmeríðnrev čv6ša's kai ueyaxa Šveſłón-
aev, sirov, & 8a00s, &c.
heathens are filled with most express testi-
monies of the most absolute sovereignty of
God, even with regard to these. The senti-
ments of Homer are well known ;” and with
him agrees the tragic poet, Euripides; “O !
Jupiter,” says he, “why are we wretched
mortals called wise ? For we depend en-
tirely upon thee, and we do whatever thou
intendest we should.”f
And it would be easy to bring together a
vast collection of such sayings, but these are
sufficient for our present purpose.
They always seem to me to act a very ri-
diculous part, who contend, that the effect of
the Divine decrees is absolutely irreconcilable
with human liberty, because the natural and
necessary liberty of a rational creature is, to
act or choose from a rational motive, or spon-
taneously, and of purpose. But who sees
not, that, on the supposition of the most ab-
solute decree, this liberty is not taken away,
but rather established and confirmed 2 For
the decree is, that such a one shall make
choice of, or do some particular thing, freely ;
and whoever pretends to deny, that whatever
is done or chosen, whether good or indiffer-
ent, is so done or chosen, or, at least, may
be so, espouses an absurdity. But, in a word,
the great difficulty in all this dispute, is that
with regard to the origin of evil. Some dis-
tinguish, and justly, the substance of the ac-
tion, as you call it, or that which is physical
in the action, from the morality of it. This
is of some weight, but whether it takes away
the whole difficulty, I will not pretend to say.
Believe me, young gentleman, it is an abyss ;
it is an abyss never to be perfectly sounded
by any plummet of human understanding.
Should any one say, “I am not to be blamed,
but Jove and fate,”f he will not get off so,
but may be nonplused by turning his own
wit against him. . The servant of Zeno, the
stoic philosopher, being caught in an act of
theft, either with a design to ridicule his
master’s doctrine, or to avail himself of it in
order to evade punishment, said, “It was my
fate to be a thief.” “And to be punished
for it,” said Zeno. Wherefore, if you will
take my advice, withdraw your minds from
a curious search into this mystery, and turn
them directly to the study of piety, and a
due reverence to the awful majesty of God.
Think and speak of God and his secrets with
fear and trembling, but dispute very little
about them ; and, if you would not undo
yourselves, beware of disputing with him.
If you transgress in anything, blame your-
selves: if you do any good, or repent of evil,
offer thanksgiving to God. This is what 1
*Totos yāp vos esriv, &c. CHRYS.
f*Q Zeijri jār a rois raxairópovs,
Öpovetv Aéyoval, gov yūp Šmprilueba,
Apópev, re rotair, &v at royxavns 08Xav. IKET, 1,
734.
f’Ovk #yö airtos étui, a MAa Šetis kai Hoſpa.
| In fatis mihi, inquit, fuit furari. Et cºedi, inquit
Zeno.
670
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
earnestly recommend to you; in this I ac-
quiesce myself; and to this, when much
tossed and distressed with doubt and difficul-
ties, I had recourse, as to a safe harbor. If
any of you think proper, he may apply to
men of greater learning; but let him take
care he meet not with such as have more
forwardness and presumption.
LECTURE XI.
THE CREATION OF THE WORLD.
WHOEVER looks upon this great system of
the universe, of which he himself is but a
very small part, with a little more than ordi-
nary attention, unless his mind is become
quite brutish within him, it will, of necessity,
put him upon considering whence this beau-
tiful frame of things proceeded, and what
was its first original ; or, in the words of the
poet, “From what principles all the elements
were formed, and how the various parts of
the world at first came together.”
Now, as we have already observed in our
dissertation concerning God, that the mind
rises directly from the consideration of this
visible world, to that of its invisible Creator:
so, from the contemplation of the first and In-
finite Mind, it descends to this visible fabric;
and again, the contemplation of this latter
determines it to return, with the greatest
pleasure and satisfaction, to that eternal
Fountain of goodness, and of everything that
exists. Nor is this a vicious and faulty cir-
cle, but the constant course of a pious soul,
travelling, as it were, backward and forward
from earth to heaven, and from heaven to
carth: a motion quite similar to that of the
angels ascending and descending upon the
ladder which Jacob saw in his vision. But
this contemplation by all means requires a
pure and divine temper of mind, according
to the maxims of the philosopher: “He that
would see God and goodness, must first be
himself good, and like the Deity.”f And
those who have the eyes of their mind pure
and bright, will sooner be able to read in
those objects that are exposed to the out-
Ward eye, the great and evident characters
of his eternal power and Godhead.
We shall, therefore, now advance some
thoughts upon the creation, which was the
first and most stupendous of all the Divine
works; and the rather, that some of the phi-
losophers, who were, to be sure, positive in
asserting the being of a God, did not ac-
knowledge him to be the Author or Creator
of the world. As for us, according to that of
the epistle to the Hebrews, ch. xi. 3, By faith
we understand that the worlds were framed
ſº
— Quibusque exordia primis
Omnia, et ipse tener mundi concreverit orbis.-
VIR., Ecl vi.
f Teviata, je trpárov 350etóñs rās Kai kakos ti HíA\et
9taraaffat 086Vre kai kaAov. PLOT.
by the word of God. Of this we have a dis.
tinct history in the first book of Moses and
of the sacred Scriptures, which we receive as
divine. And this same doctrine, the propli-
ets and apostles, and, together with them,
all the sacred writers, frequently repeat in
their sermons and writings, as the great
foundation of faith, and of all true religion.
For which reason, it ought to be diligently
inculcated upon the minds of all, even those
of the most ignorant, as far as they are able
to conceive and believe it ; though, to be
sure, it contains in it so many mysteries, that
they are sufficient not only to exercise the
most acute and learned understandings, but
even far to exceed their capacities, and quite
overpower them : which the Jewish doctors
seem to have been so sensible, or, if I may
use the expression, so over sensible, of, that
they admitted not their disciples to look into
the first three chapters of Genesis, till they
arrived at the age required for entering on
the priestly office.
Although the faith of this doctrine imme-
diately depends upon the authority and testi-
mony of the Supreme God of truth—for, as
St. Ambrose expresses it, “To whom should
I give greater credit concerning God than to
God himself?”—it is, however, so agreeable
to reason, that if any one choose to enter into
the dispute, he will find the strongest argu-
ments presenting themselves in confirmation
of the faith of it, but those on the opposite
side, if any such there be that deserve the
name, quite frivolous, and of no manner of
force. Tatian declared, that no argument
more effectually determined him to believe the
Scriptures, and embrace the Christian faith,
than “the consistent, intelligible account they
gave of the creation of the universe.”f
Let any one that pleases, choose what
other opinion he will adopt upon this sub-
ject, or, as it is a matter of doubt and obscu-
rity, any of the other hypotheses he thinks
most feasible. Is he for the atoms of Epicu-
rus, dancing at random in an empty space,
and, after innumerable trials, throwing them-
selves at last into the beautiful fabric which
we behold, and that merely by a kind of
lucky hit, or fortunate throw of the dice,
without any Amphion with his harp, to charm
them by his music, and lead them into the
building : To say the truth, the Greek phi-
losopher had dreamed these things very pret-
tily, or, according to more probable accounts,
borrowed them from two other blundering
philosophers, Democritus and Leucippus,
though he used all possible art to conceal it,
that he might have to himself the whole
glory of this noble invention. . But whoever
first invented or published this hypothesis,
how, pray, will he persuade us that things
are actually so 2 By what convincing argu-
ments will he prove them 2 Or what credi-
* Cui enim magis de Deo, quam Deo credam 2–AM-
BROSE.
fT6 tuxaraXfirrow riis roi ravros rowgeos. TATLAN.
THE CREATION OF THE WORLD.
671
ble witnesses will he produce to attest his
facts 3 For it would neither be modest nor
decent for him nor his followers, to expect
implicit faith in a matter truly philosophical
and physical, and at the same time of so
great importance; especially as it is their
common method, smartly to ridicule and su-
perciliously to despise the rest of mankind,
as being, according to their opinion, too cred-
ulous in matters of religion. But what we
have now said is more than enough upon an
hypothesis so silly, monstrous, and incon-
SIStent.
After leaving the Epicureans, there is no
other noted shift that I know of, remaining
for one that rejects the doctrine of creation,
but only that fiction of the peripatetic school,
concerning the eternity of the world. This
Aristotle is said to have borrowed from a
Pythagorean philosopher, named Ocellus Lu-
canus, who, in that instance, seems to have
deserted not only the doctrine of his master,
Pythagoras, but also..that of all the more an-
cient philosophers. It is true, two or three
others are named, Parmenio, Melissus, &c.,
who are suspected to have been of the same
sentiments with Ocellus; but this is a matter
of uncertainty, and therefore to be left unde-
termined. And, indeed, both Aristotle and
Ocellus seem to have done this at random, or
without proof, as they have advanced no ar-
guments in favor of their new doctrine, that
can be thought very favorable, much less co-
gent and convincing.
It is surely impossible to demonstrate the
truth of their opinion & priori; nor did these
authors attempt it. They only endeavored
to muster up some difficulties against the
production of the world in time, the great
weakness whereof, any one who is but tolera-
bly, acquainted with the Christian religion,
will easily perceive. Aristotle's arguments
rather make against some notions espoused
by the old philosophers, or rather forged by
himself, than against the doctrine of the
creation. Nay, he himself sometimes speaks
with great diffidence of his own opinion on
this subject, particularly in his topics, where,
among other logical problems, he proposes
this as one, viz., “Whether the world existed
from eternity or not.”
On the contrary, that the world has evident
marks of novelty, is acknowledged by Lucre-
tius in a remarkable passage of his poems,
which is very well known. “Besides,” says
he, “if the earth and the heavens were not
originally created, but existed from eternity,
why did not earlier poets describe the re-
markable actions of their times long before
the Theban war and the destruction of Troy 7
But, in my opinion, the universe is not of old
standing, the world is but of late establish-
ment, and it is not long since it had its be-
ginning.” And more to that purpose.f But,
*IIórepov 8 koepos aidios, ot.
# Praeterea si nulla fuit genitalis origo
Terrae et Coeli, semperque aeternafuere,
besides this, if we duly consider the matter,
and acknowledge the course of the stars not
only to be owing to a first mover, but also,
that the whole fabric, with all the creatures
therein, derive their existence from some Su-
preme Mind, who is the only Fountain of Be-
ing ; we must certainly conclude, that that
self-existing Principle, or Source of all beings,
is by all means eternal, but there is no neces-
sity at all that we should suppose all other
things to be coeval with it: nay, if it is not
absolutely necessary, it is at least highly rea-
sonable and consistent, to believe the com-
trary.
For, that this world, compounded of so
many and such heterogeneous parts, should
proceed, by way of natural and necessary eme-
nation, from that One First, purest, and most
simple Nature, nobody, I imagine, could be-
lieve, or in the least suspect. Can it possibly
be thought that mortality should proceed
from the Immortal, corruption from the Incor-
ruptible, and, what ought never to be so much
as mentioned, even worms, the vilest animal-
cules, and most abject insects, from the best,
most exalted, and most blessed Majesty 2 But,
if he produced all these things freely, merely
out of his good pleasure, and with the facility
that constantly attends almighty power, how
much more consistent is it to believe, that
this was done in time, than to imagine it was
from etermity
It is a very difficult matter to argue at all
about that, the nature whereof our most en-
larged thoughts can never comprehend. And
though, among philosophers and divines, it
is disputed whether such a production from
eternity is possible or not, there is probably
something concealed in the nature of the
thing, though unknown to us, that might
suggest a demonstration of the impossibility
of this conceit. For, what is finite in bulk,
power, and every other respect, seems scarce-
ly capable of this infinity of duration; and
divines generally place eternity among the
incommunicable attributes of God, as they
are called. It seems, to be sure, most agree-
able to reason, and, for aught we know, it is
absolutely necessary, that in all external pro-
ductions by a free agent, the cause should be,
even in time, prior to the effect; that is, that
that there must have been some point of
time wherein the being producing did, but
the thing produced did not, exist. As to the
eternal generation in which we believe, it is
within God himself, nor does it constitute
anything without him, or different from his
nature and essence. Moreover, the external
production of a created being, of a nature
vastly different from the agent that is sup-
posed to produce it, and to act freely in that
production, implies, in its formal conception
Cur supra bellum Thebanum et funera Trojae,
Non alias alii quoque res cecinere Poetae,
Verum, fit opinor, habet novitatem somma, re-
censque
Natura est mundi, neque pridem exordia cepit.
672
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
(as the schools express it), a translation from
nonentity into being ; whence it seems ne-
cessarily to follow, that there must have
been some point of time, wherein that crea-
ted being did not exist.
The notions of the Platonists concerning
pre-existent matter, do not concern the pres-
ent subject; but, to be sure, they are as idle
and empty as the imaginary eternity of the
world in its present form. As angels were
not produced out of matter, it is surely sur-
prising, that those who assert their creation
by God, should find difficulty in acknowledg-
ing the production of other things without
pre-existent matter, or even of matter itself.
The celebrated maxim of the philosophers,
that out of nothing, nothing is produced, we
receive, but in a different and sounder sense,
viz., that nothing can be produced but either
from pre-existent matter, or by a productive
power in which it was virtually contained.
And, in this sense, this famous maxim af.
fords an invincible demonstration à posterio-
ri (for the subject is not capable of any oth-
er), to prove that there must be some being
that existed before any creature, and the
unity and eternity of that being.
The great Creator of the world, having all
things virtually in himself, needed neither
matter nor instruments in order to produce
them. By the word of the Lord were the
heavens made, and all the host of them by the
breath of his mouth. Psalm xxxiii. 6. These
were his levers and tools, the word of the
Lord, or that effectual act of his will which
gave being to all things. “The mighty
Lord of all, called directly to his holy, Intelli-
gent, and creating word, Let there be a sun,
and a sun immediately appeared.” Here,
he spoke, and it was done. “The word and
the effect showed themselves together.”f If
you ask what moved infinite Goodness to per-
form this great work; I answer, that very
Goodness you mention. For if, as they say,
it is the nature of goodness to be always com-
municative, that Goodness, to be sure, must
be the most diffusive, which is in itself great-
est, richest, and so very immense, that it can
not be in the least diminished, much less ex-
hausted, by the greatest munificence. Here,
there is no danger that that should happen,
which Cicero prudently cautions against, in
the case of human goodness, viz., “That lib-
erality should undo itself.”f For that lib-
erality must be immortal and endless, the
treasures whereof are infinite.
Nor is it to be doubted, but from this very
goodness, together with the immense power
and wisdom which shine forth so brightly in
the creation and all the creatures, an immense
weight of glory is reflected upon the Creator
himself, and the source of all these perfec-
* ‘O 3 navrov köptos twºfos of £6tsoe rā tavrot, ayvg
Kai vonrº, kat Ömptovoytka Aoyošara, ºto; kai ăua rā, pá-
val, &c.
f "Apa tros, apa Boyov.
# Ne liberalitate péreat liberalitas.
tions. Nor must it be denied that the mani-
ſold wisdom of God proposed this end like-
wise. And there is nothing more certain
than that, from all these taken together, his
works, his benevolent and diffusive goodness,
his power and wisdom illustrated in the crea-
tion, and the glory that continually results
therefrom, from his wise counsels, and his
own most perfect nature, whence all these
things flow: nothing is more certain, I say,
than that, from all these taken together, the
Divine Majesty enjoys an eternal and inex-
pressible delight and satisfaction. And thus
all things return to that vast and immense
Ocean, whence they at first took their rise,
according to the expression in the Proverbs,
He hath made all things for himself. Proverbs
xvi. 4. And the words of the song in the Rev-
elations are most express to this purpose:
Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory,
and honor, and power, for thou hast created
all things, and for thy pleasure they are, and
were created. Rev. iv. 11. Nor could it, in-
deed, be otherwise, than that he who is the
Beginning of all things, should also be the
End of all; a wonderful Beginning without a
beginning, and an End without an end. So
that, as the author of the Epistle to the He-
brews reasons concerning the oath of God,
As he could swear by no greater, he sware by
himself; in like manner we may argue here,
as he could propose no greater end or design,
he proposed himself. It was the saying of
Epicurus, that “the wise man does every-
thing for his own sake:” we, who are other-
wise taught, should rather say, that the wise
man does nothing for his own sake, but all
for that of God. But the most exalted, to be
sure, and the wisest of all beings, because he
is so, must of necessity do all things for him-
self; yet, at the same time, all his dispensa-
tions toward his creatures are most bountiful
and benevolent.
That the world was made directly and im-
mediately for man, is the doctrine, not only
of the stoics, but also of the master of the
peripatetic school : “We are,” says he, “ in
some respect, the end of all things.”f And in
another place, “Nature has made all these
things for the sake of man.”f Cicero speaks
to the same purpose ;| and Lactantius more
fully than either. But Moses gives the great-
est light on this subject, not only in his histo-
ry of the creation, but also in Deuteronomy,
wherein he warns the Israelites against the
worshipping of angels, for this reason: be-
cause, says he, they were created for the ser-
vice of man. And the sun, in Hebrew, is
called Shemesh, which signifies a servant.
But O ! whither do our hearts stray ?—
Ought we not, to dwell upon this pleasant
* Sapientem omnia facere Sui causa.
f Sumus enim et nos quadammodo onlnium finis.
2 Phys., tit. 23.
f Natura hominum gratia omnia fecit.
|| De Legibus.
§ Solirrequietis cursibus et spatiis inequalibus orbes
conficit, &c., ad finem capitis, De ira Dei. Cap. 13, 14.
THE CREATION OF MAN.
673
Y.
contemplation, and even die in it ! I should
choose to be quite lost in it, and to be ren-
dered altogether insensible, and, as it were,
dead to these earthly trifles that make a noise
around us. O sweet reciprocation of mutual
delights! The Lord shall rejoice in his works,
says the psalmist; and presently after, My
meditation of him shall be sweet : I will be
glad in the Lord. Psalm civ. 31–34. Let us
Ook sometimes to the heavens, sometimes to
the sea and the earth, with the animals and
plants that are therein, and very often to our-
selves: and in all these, and in everything
else, but in ourselves particularly, let us con-
template God, the common Father of all, and
our most exalted Creator, and ſet our contem-
plation excite our love.
They who have sent the ignorant and un-
learned to pictures and images, as books prop-
er for their instruction, have not acted very
wisely ; nor has that expedient turned out
happily or luckily for the advantage of that
part of mankind. But surely, this great vol-
ume, or system, which is always open and
exposed to the view of all, is admirably
adapted to the instruction both of the vulgar
and the wise; so that Chrysostom had good
reason to call it “ The great book for the
learned and unlearned.” And the saying of
St. Basil is very much to the purpose: “From
the beauty of those things which are obvious
to the eyes of all, we acknowledge that his
inexpressible beauty excels that of all the
creatures; and from the magnitude of those
sensible bodies that surround us, we conclude
the infinite and immense goodness of their
Creator, whose plenitude of power exceeds
all thought, as well as expression.”f
For this very end, it evidently appears that
all things were made, and we are the only
visible beings that are capable of this contem-
plation. “The world,” says St. Basil, “is a
school, or seminary, very proper for the in-
struction of rational souls in the knowledge
of God.”f We have also the angels, those
ministers of fire, to be spectators with us on
this theatre. But will any of us venture to
conjecture what they felt, and what admira-
tion seized them, when they beheld those
new kinds of creatures rising into being, and
those unexpected scenes that were successive-
ly added to the preceding ones, on each of the
six days of that first remarkable week, when
he laid the foundations of the earth, and
placed the corner stone thereof; when the
morning stars sang together, and all the sons
of God shouted for joy. Job. xxxviii. 6, 7.
But O, the stupidity of mankind All those
stupendous objects are daily around us; but,
*B18Atov påytarov kai :6tóraig kai cápots.
f'Ex roi; káX\ovs rôv bpopévoy rov tripkaxov čvváple-
6a kai čk roi, Heyé000s rôv dig0mrov rovrov kai Tepuyan-
röv douárov dvaMoytčjusta äreupov kai Öreppeyé6m Kai
rāgav 6távotav čv ro rNäffet ris Šavrov čvXapews itepéai-
vowra--ALEx. hom. i.
f'O Köduos ipvyöv Aoyuköv Čičackaxétov kai riis 6eoy-
waja’i is Tatēevräpta, .—ALEX. hom. i.
because they are constantly exposed to our
view, they never affect our minds: so natural
is it for us to admire new, rather than grand
objects. Therefore, the vast multitude of
stars which diversify the beauty of this im-
mense body, does not call the people togeth-
er ; but when any change happens therein,
the eyes of all are fixed upon the heavens.
“Nobody looks at the sun, but when he is
obscured ; nobody observes the moon, but
when she is eclipsed; then nature seems to
be in danger; then vain superstition is alarm-
ed, and every one is afraid for himself.”—
“But surely,” says St. Bernard, concerning
the sun and moon, “these are great miracles,
very great, to be sure ; but the first produc-
tion or creation of all things, is a vast miracle,
and makes it easy to believe all the rest; so
that, after it, nothing ought to excite our
wonder.”f
LECTURE XII.
THE CREATION OF MAN.
THIS great theatre being built, beside those
spectators who had been but lately placed in
the higher seats, it pleased the supreme Cre-
ator and Lord to have another company be-
low, as it were, in the area: these he called
forth into being by creation, and a man was
introduced into this area, to be a spectator of
him and of his works, yet not a spectator only,
but also to be the interpreter of them.”f Nor
yet was man placed therein merely to be a
spectator and an interpreter; but also, in a
great measure, to be possessor and lord there-
of; or, as it were, the Creator's “substitute,”||
in a spacious and convenient house, ready-
built, and stored with all sorts of useful fur-
niture.
Now, that man himself is a grand and no-
ble piece of workmanship, appears even from
this circumstance, that the most wise Opera-
tor, when he was going to create him, thought
fit to preface his design with these words,
Let us make man. So that he was created not
merely by a word of command, like the rest
of the creatures, but “by a consultation of
the blessed Trinity.”
And, indeed, man is a wonderful composi-.
tion, the conjunction of heaven and earth;
* Sol spectatorem, nisi cum deficit, non habet; ne-
mo observat lunam nisi laborantem; tunc orbes con-
clamant, tune prose quisque superstitione vana tre--
pidat.—SENECA.
f Magna sunt hapc miracula, magna nimis ita est;
miraculum autem immensum'est ipsa prima omnium.
roductio, seu creatio, quae miraculorem omnium adeo.
acilem fidem, facit, ut post eam nihil sit mirum.
f'S's 6&arív re àvroi, kai rāv duroi, £pMøy kai of uávoy.
6earfiv ayyá Kai Śnyńrmy.—ARRIAN.
| "Y Tokardararov.
§ Faciamus hominem. Ut non solo jubentis ser-
mone sicut reliquia, sed consilio sanctæ Trinitatis con-
ditus sit.—ARNOB.
85
- 674
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
“the breath of God, and the dust of the
ground ;” the bond of union between the vis-
ible and the invisible world, and truly a
“world in miniature, a kind of mixed world,
nearly related to the other two.” Nor is he
only a lively epitome and representation of
the greater world, but also dignified with the
image of his great Creator. He made the
heavens and the earth, the sea and the stars,
and then all sorts of living creatures; but, in
the words of the poet, “A more divine crea-
ture, and more capable of elevated sentiments,
was yet wanting, and one that could rule over
the rest ; therefore man was born.”f
The rest of the creatures, according to the
observation of the schoolmen, which is not
amiss, had the impression of the Divine foot
stamped upon them, but not the image of the
Deity. . These he created, and reviewing
them, found them to be good, yet he did not
rest in them ; but upon the creation of man,
the sabbath immediately followed. He made
man, and then rested, having a creature ca-
pable of knowing that he was his Creator,
one that could worship him, and celebrate
his sabbath, whose sins, if he should commit
any, he might forgive, and send, clothed with
human nature, his only begotten Son, in whom
he is absolutely well pleased, and over whom,
as the person who fulfilled his good pleasure,
he rejoices for ever, to redeem his favorite
creature. By the production of man, the su-
preme Creator exhibited himself in the most
admirable light, and at the same time, had a
creature capable of admiring and loving him:
and, as St. Ambrose observes, “One that was
under obligation to love his Creator the more
ardently, the more wonderfully he perceived,
himself to be made.”f—“And man,” says the
same author, “was made a two-footed ani-
mal, that he might be, as it were, one of the
inhabitants of the air, that he might aspire at
high things, and fly with the wings of sub-
lime thoughts.”||
And, indeed, the structure of man is an in-
stance of wonderful art and ingenuity, wheth-
er you consider the symmetry of his whole
fabric taken together, or all his parts and
members separately. Gregory Nyssen speaks
very much to the purpose, when he says,
“The frame of man is awful and hard to be
explained, and contains in it a lively repre-
sentation of many of the hidden mysteries of
God.” How wonderful is even the struc-
ture of his body which, after all, is but the
*Murpokóapos, pºtkrós ríg kóopos, ovyymvís Tāv ôňo kóo-
gov.–GREG, Nyss.
f Sanctius his animal, mentisque ; capacius alta.
Deerat adhuc, et quod dominari in caetera posset,
Natus homo est.—OvID. 1 Met.
# Et quidem, tanto ardentius, amaret conditorem,
quanto mirabilius seabeo conditurn intelligeret.
| Et factusest homo bipes, ut sit unus quaside vol.
atilibus, qui alta visu petat, et quodam remigio volitet
sublimum cogitationum.
§ ‘H roi; div69&nov karaokevil počepā ris kai Övaepp fivew-
ros kai troXXà kai drókpāpa £v durii plvarāpta (coij Šetkó-
wišovaa. --
earthen case of his soul; accordingly, it is in
the Chaldaic language called Nidne, which
signifies a sheath. How far does the work-
manship exceed the materials | And how
Justly may we say, “What a glorious crea-
ture out of the meanest elements!” The
psalmist's mind seems to have dwelt upon
this meditation till he was quite lost in it:
How fearfully, says he, and wonderfully am
I made / Psalm czXxix. 14. And that cele-
brated physician who studied nature with
such unwearied application, in his book upon
the structure of the human body, in which,
after all, there is nothing divine, often ex-
presses his admiration in these words, “Who
is worthy to praise the wisdom and power of
the Creator P” and many other such excla-
mations. The Christian writers, however,
are most full upon this subject, particularly
St. Basil, St. Chrysostom, and others, who carry
their observations so far as the nails and the
hair, especially that on the eyelids. And Nys-
sen, on the words, Let us make man, has the
following observation : “Man is a grand and
noble creature. How can man be said to be
any great matter, seeing he is a mortal crea-
ture, subject to a great many passions; from
the time of his birth, to that of his old age,
exposed to a vast many evils and distresses;
and of whom it is written, Lord, what is man,
that thou shouldst be mindful of him £’”
“The history we have of the production
of man, delivered me from this difficulty;
for we are told that God took some of the
dust of the earth, and out of it formed man :
from these words I understood, that man was
at once nothing, and yet something very
grand.”f He intended to say, that the ma-
terials out of which man was made were
low, and as it were, nothing ; but, if you
consider the wonderful workmanship, how
great was the honor conferred upon him
“The earth did not spontaneously produce
man, as it did grasshoppers. God did not
commit the production of this or that partic-
ular creature to his ministering powers; no,
the gracious Creator took the earth in his
own hand.”f But besides the noble frame
of his body, though it was made of the dust of
the earth, that Divine breath, and, by means
of it, the infusion of a precious soul, mixes
heaven and earth together; not indeed in the
common acceptation of that term, as if things
so vastly different were promiscuously jum-
bled together, and the order of nature sub-
verted ; but only implying that the two parts
* Tig travos éci riv Šmutovoyoi gopiavré kai čávauw
£Trauveſ v.
fMéya ăv6poros rairiptov. *AAAa tró; ſteyābāv6poros;
rá širiknpov goov to pivotots trä6eauv trokeſpevov, ſo tryiv-
verijs éts yipas pupiov kaków #gpöv ŠčavrXovv IIepi of £,
Trn Tat. Kūpte rts &arty 5 §v6ponos, bri pupivñokm doroij;
&c. &XXà uot rmv rotávrny 6tarógãoav Avaev taropia Tijg
yevvideov row div606trov dvayvogteiga, &c. Orat. ii.
f Our # yń duropéros &nep, rows rérriyao #3age,
aXX' our eire rājöe kai rājöe totăoat Xetrovgyikats Övyā-
peaw, a\X iótá xeipi pºorexvel yāv Āaffew.
THE CREATION OF MAN.
675
of the human constitution are compounded
with inexpressible art, and joined in a close
union. As to the misery of the human race,
and the contemptible figure in which the life
of man appears, it is to be ascribed to an-
other source, very different from the earthly
materials out of which his body was made.
That he was created happy, beautiful, and
honorable, he owed to his great and good
Creator; but he himself is the author of his
own misery. And hence it is, that though,
with regard to his original and pure nature,
we ought, for the strongest reasons, to speak
more honorably of him than of any other
part of the visible world ; yet, if we view
him in his present circumstances, no part of
the creation, to be sure, deserves to be la-
mented in more mournful strains.
But what words can express, what thoughts
can comprehend, the dignity and powers of
that heavenly soul that inhabits this earthly
body, and the Divine image that is stamped
upon it ! The philosophers of all ages and
nations have been inquiring into the nature
of it, and have not yet found it out.
A great many have also amused them-
selves with too whimsical conjectures and
fancies, and have endeavored to discover,
by very different methods, a figure of the
blessed Trinity in the faculties of the soul.
Nor was Methodius satisfied with finding a
representation of this mystery in the soul of
every particular man, but also imagined he
had discovered it in the first three persons of
the human race, viz. Adam, Eve, and their
first-born son ; because in them he found un-
hegotten, begotten, and proceeding, as also
unity of nature, and the origination of all
mankind. But not to insist upon these, it is
certain the rational, or intellectual, and im-
mortal soul, so long as it retained its original
purity, was adorned with the lively and re-
fulgent image of the Father of Spirits, its
eternal Creator : but afterward, when it be-
came polluted and stained with sin, this im-
age, though not immediately quite ruined,
was, however, miserably obscured and de-
faced. It is true, the beautiful and erect
frame of the human body, which gives it an
advantage over all other creatures, and some
other external graces that man possesses,
may possibly be some reflected rays of the
Divine excellence; but I should hardly call
them the image of God. As St. Ambrose
well observes, “How can flesh, which is but
earth, be said to be made after the image of
God, in whom there is no earth at all ? And
shall we be said to be like God, because we
are of a higher rank than sheep and does?”
The dominion over the rest of the crea-
tures which man enjoys, is a kind of faint
shadow of the absolute and unlimited sway
of the supreme Majesty of heaven and earth.
I dare not, however, venture to say, it is that
* Caro terra estiquidicaturad imaginem Dei facta,
cum in Deo terra non sit et an eo Dei similes dice.
mur, quja damulis atque ovibus celsiores sumus 2
image of which we are speaking; but, as
those who draw the picture of a king, after
laying down the lineaments of the face and
body, use to add the purple robe and other
ensigns of royalty, this dominion may cer-
tainly supply the place of these, with regard
to this image of God on man. But the lively
colors in which the image itself is drawn,
are, says Nyssen, “purity, absence of evil,
understanding, and speech.” For even the
eternal Son and the wisdom of the Father,
seem to be intended by the philosophers un-
der the term of The Creating Mind ºf and
by the divine apostle, John, he is called The
Word. To these we have very good ground
to add, charity, as nothing can be named that
renders man liker to God;f for “God is love,
and the fountain of it.”|| It is true, charity
is a valuable disposition of the mind, but it
also discovers itself in the frame of the hu-
man body; for man was made quite defence-
less, having neither horns, claws, nor sting,
but naked and harmless, and, as it were,
entirely formed for meekness, peace, and
charity.
The same author, speaking of the image
of God on man, expresses himself as follows:
“Wherefore, that you may be like God, ex-
ercise liberality and beneficence, study to be
innocent, avoid every crime, subdue all the
motions of sin—conquer all the beasts that
are within you. What, you will say, have I
beasts within me? Yes, you have beasts,
and a vast number of them. And that you
may not think I intend to insult you, is anger
an inconsiderable beast, when it barks in
}. heart? What is deceit, when it lies
id in a cunning mind; is it not a fox 2 Is
not the man who is furiously bent upon ca-
lumny, a scorpion ? Is not the person who
is eagerly set on resentment and revenge, a
most venomous viper ? What do you say
of a covetous man; is he not a ravenous
wolf? And is not the luxurious man, as the
prophet expresseth it, a neighing horse? Nay,
there is no wild beast but is found within us.
And do you consider yourself as lord and
prince of the wild beasts, because you com-
mand those that are without, though you
never think of subduing or setting bounds to
those that are within you? What advantage
have you by your reason, which enables you
to overcome lions, if, after all, you yourself
are overcome by anger ? To what purpose
do you rule over the birds, and catch them
with gins, if you yourself, with the incon-
stancy of a bird, are hurried hither and thith-
er, and sometimes flying high, are ensnared
by pride, sometimes brought down and caught
by pleasure ? But, as it is shameful for him
who rules over nations to be a slave at home,
and for the man who sits at the helm of the
state to be meanly subjected to the beck of
* Katapérns kakov ax\orptoots, vows, kai Aoyos.
f Amptotipyov.
f 6coetóēorspáv.
|'Ayárn 6 6.e0s, kai ayams rhym.
676
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
a contemptible harlot, or even of an imperi-
ous wife: will it not be, in like manner, dis-
graceful for you, who exercise dominion over
the beasts that are without you, to be sub-
ject to a great many, and those of the worst
sort, that roar and domineer in your distem-
pered mind 2*
I shall, last of all, here subjoin what some
of the ancients have observed, viz., that the
nature of the human soul, as it lies hid out
of sight, and is to us quite unknown, bears
an evident resemblance to that of God, who
is himself unsearchable, and past finding
out.f
“But when we have well considered all
these things, and the many other thoughts of
this kind that may occur, may we not cry
out, How surprising and shocking is the
madness and folly of mankind; the far great-
er part whereof, as if they had quite forgot
their original and native dignity, disparage
themselves so far as to pursue the meanest
objects, and shamefully plunge themselves
in mud.”
The words of Epictetus are divine, and
have a wonderful savor of piety: “You go
to the city of Olympia,” says he, “to see
some of the works of Phidias; but you have
no ambition to convene, in order to under-
stand and look at those works which may be
seen without travelling at all. Will you nev-
er understand what you are, nor why you
were brought into the world ; nor, finally,
what that is which you have now an oppor-
tunity to view and contemplate 3’t And in
another place, “For if we were wise, what
have we else to do, both in public and in pri-
wate, but to praise and celebrate the Deity,
and to return our thanks to him 2 Ought we
not, while we are digging, ploughing, and
eating, to sing to God this hymn !—Creat is
the Lord, who has provided us with those
necessaries of life.” &c.
As for you, young gentlemen, I would
have you to be sensible of the honor and
dignity of your original state ; and to be
deeply impressed with the indignity and dis-
grace of your nature, now fallen and vitia-
ted. And dwell particularly upon the con-
templation of it. Suffer not the great honor
* 686; 60%v potos éan 8ta rās 3.0mgrórnros, 6ta rāg dive-
šikakfas, 6tu kot, vovías, pigorovnpós div kai karáxparów
Töv ráðov rôv évôov, #pye 0spíov, ri oiv ćpsis, éyo 6ipta
#x2 &v iuavrº ; kai pupia toxiv. 3x\ov čv goi 6mpiov
#xets, kai uh, 63vvy voutgas civat rô Xéyéuevvov. IIógov
6npíov earív 8 6.jpos 3rav Aakri rii Kapóta, &c.
f Kar' eiköva rurukňv roi dvovºpov, xat dyvoptorož
£eoû.
f Ets 0\upriav pew droðmustré, iv eióñre rô pyov roi,
£eiðtoë—firov će oč6 droënpigal Xpéta Šariv ravra Ös 6eff-
aggflat kai karavojoat oik tribupégere of k aicóñoea be rotvov
oire rives, Šarš, oùré Éiri ré yeyóvare, otr Śrī rí rotiro Šariv
tº 6 row 9tav rapsiAñpares. ARR. lib. i., cap. 6.
i "Et yap voiv šixopew, dAAó ri éðet pås roteſy rai
Koivil kai i8ía fi ºuveiv rá 6eofw kai et pupiety kai śrečépxecóat
rås Xáptras; otr Šćet kai akárrowras kai dpoivrag kai é0aiov-
ras āčew, pēyas 60sos ort àpiv träpexev ãpyava ravra.
IBID, cap, 18.
and dignity of the human race, which is to
know the eternal and invisible God, to ac-
knowledge him, love him, and worship him,
to decay, and die away within you. This,
alas! is the way of the far greater part of
the world ; but do you live in continual re-
membrance of your original, and assert your
claim to heaven, as being originally from it,
and soon to return to it again.
LECTURE XIII.
PROVIDENCE.
THE doctrines we have been handling, are
the great supports of faith, piety, and the
whole of religion: wherefore, it is most just,
tha the zeal and care of the scholars should
concur with that of their teachers, to have
them well secured in the mind and affections;
for, “a weak foundation,” as the lawyers ob-
serve, “is the ruin of the work.” There
are two principal pillars, and, as it were, the
Jachin and Boaz of the living temples of
God, which the apostle to the Hebrews lays
down in these words: He that cometh to God
(under which expression are comprehended
every devout affection and every act of re-
ligious worship) must believe that God is, and
that he is a rewarder of them that diligently
seek him. Heb. xi. 6.
That God is, implies not only that he is
eternal and self-existent, but also, that he is,
to all other beings, the spring and fountain
of what they are, and what they have; and
consequently, that he is the wise and power-
ful Creator of angels and men, and even of
the whole universe. This is the first partic-
ular, that God is. The second, that he is a
rewarder of them that diligently seek him,
ascertains the providence and government of
God, exemplified in its most eminent effect,
with regard to mankind. For providence
extends further than this, and comprehends
in it a constant preservation and support of
all things visible and invisible, whether in
heaven or earth, and the sovereign govern-
ment and disposal of them. Mechanics,
when they have completed houses, ships, and
other works they have been engaged in,
leave them to take their fate in the world,
and, for the most part, give themselves no
further trouble about the accidents that may
befall them. But the supreme Architect and
wise Creator, never forsakes the work of his
hands, but keeps his arms continually about
it, to preserve it; sits at the helm to rule
and govern it; is himself in every part of it,
and fills the whole with his presence. So
great a fabric could not possibly stand with-
out some guardian and ruler : nor can this be
any other than the Creator himself. For who
can pay a greater regard to it, support it
more effectually, or govern it with greater
* Debile enim fundamentum fallit opus.
PROVIDENCE.
677
wisdom, than he who made it 2 “Nothing
:an be more perfect than God; therefore it
is necessary the world should be governed by
him,” says Cicero. And “they who take
away providence, though they acknowledge
God in words, in fact deny him.”
If we believe that all things were produced
out of nothing, the consequence is, that, by
the same powerful Hand that created them,
they must be preserved and supported, to
keep them from falling back into their primi-
tive nothingness. It must be also owned,
that by the same powerful Hand, the regular
motions of the stars, the contexture of the ele-
mentary world, the various kinds of creatures,
and the uninterrupted succession of their gene-
rations, are continued and preserved. Nor is
Divine providence to be confined within the
heavens, or in the lower world, restrained to
the care of generals in opposition to individu-
als; although the peripatetic school inclined
too much to this opinion, and even the mas-
ter of that school, Aristotle himself, in his
often-quoted book, if it really be his, De
Mundo. For that providence extends to all
things in this lower globe, from the highest
to the lowest, and comprehends within its
sphere particular as well as general things,
the least as well as the greatest, is confirmed
not only by the doctrine of the sacred Scrip-
ture, but also by the testimony of all sound
philosophy.
Therefore, in maintaining the doctrine of
Providence, we affirm, 1st, That the Eternal
Mind has an absolute and perfect knowledge
of all things in general, and every single one
in particular. Nor does he see only those
that are actually present, as they appear in
their order upon the stage of the world, but,
at one view, comprehends ail that are passed,
as well as that are to come, as if they were
actually present before him.f . This, the an-
cient philosopher Thales is said to have as-
serted expressly, even with regard to the
hidden motions and most secret thoughts of
the human mind: for being asked, “If any
one that does evil can conceal it from God 2"
he answered, “No, not even his evil
thoughts.”f “ Nothing is left unprovided
for,” says St. Basil, “nothing is overlooked
by God: his watchful eye sees all things;
he is present everywhere to give salvation to
all.”| Epictetus has also the same divine
thoughts upon this subject.'
And here, were any one to reflect seriously
on the vast number of affairs that are con-
stantly in agitation in one province, or even
* Nihil Deo praestantius, ab eo igitur regi necesse
est. Qui providentiam negant, vervis licet Deum po-
nunt, reipsa tollunt.
ar' #ovra rar' tagoueva trpor' #ovra.
f ’Et 0sby ris Xàbot kaków riſpággov; d\A oióē 6tavoſ-
Havos.
| "Ováčv drpov6mrov, oùóēv ºpe?mpevov rapā 6eq, Taura
a * z * , a w f
oxorévet à droiumros épôaX uos Tiai tripet, oxoprišov čkag- !
Tao rmv agordpatv.
§ Arr., lib. i., cap. 12.
in one city, the many political schemes and
projects, the multiplicity of law matters, the
still greater number of family affairs, and all
the particulars comprehended under so many
general heads, he would be amazed and over-
powered with the thoughts of a knowledge
so incomprehensibly extensive. This was
the very thought which excited the divine
psalmist's admiration, and made him cry out
with wonder and astonishment, Such knowl-
edge is too wonderful for me , it is high , I
can not attain unto it. Psalm czxxix. 6.
2dly, He not only knows all things, and
takes notice of them, but he also rules and
goverms them. He hath done whatever he
pleased in the heavens and the earth, says the
psalmist, Psalm crxxv. 6. And he worketh
all things, says the apostle, according to the
counsel of his own will. Eph. i. 11. He does
all things according to his pleasure, but that
pleasure is influenced by his reason; all
things absolutely, but yet all things with the
greatest justice, sanctity, and prudence.
He views and governs the actions of man
in a particular manner: he hath given him a
law: he hath proposed rewards, annexed pun-
ishments to enforce it, and engage man's obe-
dience. And having discovered, as it were,
an extraordinary concern about him, when
he made him (as we have observed upon the
words Let us make man), in like manner, he
still continues to maintain an uncommon
good-will toward him, and, so to speak, an
anxious concern about him. So that one of
the ancients most justly called man “God’s
favorite creature.” And he spoke much to
the purpose, who said, “God is neither a lov-
er of horses, nor of birds, but of mankind.”
With regard to the justice of the supreme
government of Providence, we meet with a
great deal, even in the ancient poets.
“O father Jove,” says AEschylus, “thou
reignest in heaven, thou takest notice of the
rash and wicked actions of gods and men.
Thy care even extends to the wild beasts;
thou observest the wrongs done them, and se-
curest their privileges.”f
“Though justice,” says Euripides, “comes
late, it still is justice: it lies hid, as it were,
in ambush, till it finds an opportunity to in-
flict due punishment upon the wicked man.”f
“Dost thou think,” says AEschylus, “to
get the better of the divine knowledge, and
that justice stands at a distance from the hu-
man race 3 She is near at hand, and sees
without being seen; she knows who ought
to be punished ; but when she will sudden-
* 'O 6eós (pixerros, oiás B.Aopvt; d\xi pixáv6poros.
f Sł Zei, Tárep, Zei, göv učv oëpavoi, kpáros,
2v č’ py' emovpaviov kai div606tov ºpás
Aeopyá kä0eptara. Xot kai 6npíov
"Y6pts ré kai číknueXet.
f Aixa ror dika xpóvios
AAA' ôpos wrotegoûg'
'EXáðey orav #xm
Ttv’ datóñ 8porów.
678
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
ly fall upon the wicked, that thou knowest
In Ot.
“The weight of justice,” says the same
author, in another place, “falls upon some
quickly in the daytime, it lies in wait for
some sins till the twilight; the longer it is
delayed, the severer the punishment; accord-
ingly, some are consigned to eternal night.”f
There are two difficulties, however, on this
head, which are not easily solved. 1st, The
success that commonly attends the wicked
in this world, and the evil to which the good
are exposed. On this subject, even the phi-
losophers, pleading the cause of God (which,
if we take their word, they thought a matter
of no great difficulty), advanced a great many
things. Seneca tells us, “There is a settled
friendship, nay, a near relation and similitude
between God and good men: he is even their
father; but, in their education he inures them
to hardships. When, therefore, you see them
struggling with difficulties, sweating, and
employed in up-hill work ; while the wicked,
on the other hand, are in high spirits, and
swim in pleasures; consider, that we are
pleased with modesty in our children, and
forwardness in our slaves; the former we
keep under by severe discipline, while we
encourage impudence in the latter. Be per-
suaded that God takes the same method.
He does not pamper the good man with de-
licious fare, but tries him ; he accustoms him
to hardships, and (which is a wonderful ex-
pression in a heathen) PREPAREs HIM, FoR
HIMSELF.”f And in another place, “Those
luxurious persons whom he seems to indulge
and to spare, he reserves for evils to come.
For you are mistaken, if you think any one
excepted. The man who has been long
spared, will at last have his portion of misery ;
and that he seems to have been dismissed, is
only delayed for a time.”|| And a vast deal
more to this purpose. The same sort of sen-
timents we meet with in Plutarch : “God
takes the same method,” says he, “with
* Aokers rà 0sáv at #vvnrà vukňoit more
ai rāv číknviroi; pakft drotkeſabat 8porāv;
‘H 3’ ty; vs torwoºx 6popévn 6 bpá
* Oy Xpil ko'yáčety r" Ötöev. AAA’ ovk of6a ov
‘ Oróray āpwo poxojoa 3to\éon kakoús.
f Porã 6’ 3riakotet 6tra;
Taxeia roës uèv čv qāet
Tà 3' 8v peratxpia, akórow
Mévet, xpovišovr' àxn 8púst
Tois & kpavros #xei vić.
# Inter bonus viros ac DEUM est amicitia, imo ne-
cessitudo, et similitudo, imo ille eorum pater, sed du-
rius eos educat, cum itaque eos videris laborare, su-
dare, et ardum ascendere, malos autem lascivire, et
voluptatibus fluere, cogita, filiorum nos modestia de-
lectare, vernularum licentia: illos disciplina tristiori
contineri, horum ali audaciam. Idem tibi de DEo li-
queat, bonum virum deliciis non innutrit, experitur,
indurat, et sIBI ILLUM PREPARAT.
| Eos autem quibus indulgere videtur, quibus par-
cere, molles venturis malis servat. Erratis enim si
quem judicatis exceptum. Veniet ad illum diu feli-
cem sua portio. Et qui videtur dimissus esse, dela-
tus est. SEN. DE GUBERN. MUNDI.
good men, that teachers do with their schol-
ars, when they exact more than ordinary of
those children of whom they have the great-
est hopes.” And it is a noble thought
which we meet with in the same author :
“If he who transgresses in the morning,”
says he, “is punished in the evening, you
will not say that, in this case, justice is slow ;
but to God, one, or even several ages, are but
as one day.”f How near is this to St. Peter's
saying on the same subject 2 Pet. iii. 8.
2dly, The other point upon this subject,
which perplexes men fond of controversy,
and is perplexed by them, is, how to recon-
cile human liberty with Divine providence,
which we have taken notice of before. But
to both these difficulties, and to all others
that may occur upon the subject, I would op-
pose the saying of St. Augustine: “Let us
grant that he can do some things which we
can not understand.”f
What a melancholy thing it would be to
live in a world where anarchy reigned ' It
would certainly be a woful situation to all ;
but more especially to the best and most inof-
fensive part of mankind. It would have been no
great privilege, to have been born into a world
without God and without providence. For,
if there were no Supreme Ruler of the world,
then, undoubtedly, the wickedness of men
would reign without any curb or impediment,
and the great and powerful would unavoida-
bly devour the weak and helpless, “as the
great fishes often eat up the small, and the
hawk makes havoc among the weaker birds.”||
It may be objected, that this frequently
happens, even in the present world, as ap-
pears from the prophecies of Habakkuk, ch.
i. 15. But the prophet, immediately after,
asserts, that there is a Supreme Power, which
holds the reins in the midst of these irregu-
larities; and though they are sometimes per-
mitted, yet, there is a determinate time ap-
pointed for setting all things to rights again,
which the just man expects, and, till it comes,
lives by faith, Hab. ii. 3, 4. . Some passages
of Ariston's Iambics are admirable to this
purpose.
“A. Be patient; for God uses to support
worthy men, such as you are, in a remarka-
ble manner. And unless those who act in a
becoming manner, are to receive some great
reward, to what purpose is it, pray, to culti-
vate piety any longer ? B. I wish that may
be the case; but I too often see those who
conform themselves to the rules of piety and
virtue, oppressed by calamity; while those
* Hanc rationem Deus sequitur in bonis viris, quam
iu discipulis suis preceptores, qui plus laboris ab iis
exigunt, in quibus certior spes est. PLUT. trepi raw
ppačeňs ripopovuévov.
t Si qui manc peccavit, vespere puniatur, tardum
hoc non dices : at DEo seculum, vel etiam plura secu-
la, pro die uno.
f Demus illum aliquod facere, et nos non posse in-
telligere-
Pisces ut sape minutos
Magna comest, et aves enecat accipiter.
PROVIDENCE.
679
who mind nothing but what they are prompt-
ed to by private interest and profit, thrive
and flourish much better than we. A. For
the present it is so, indeed ; but it becomes
us to look a great way forward, and wait till
the world has completed its full revolution.
For it is by no means true, that this life is en-
tirely under the dominion of blind chance, or
fortune ; though many entertain this wicked
notion, and the corrupt part of mankind, from
this consideration, encourage themselves in
immorality; but the virtues of the good will
meet with a proper reward, and the wick-
ed will be punished for their crimes. For
nothing happens without the will of heav-
en.”*
What the poets sometimes advance con-
cerning a supreme fate, which governs all
things, they often ascribe to God; though now
and then they forget themselves, and subject
even the Supreme Being to their fate, as the
stoic philosophers did also. But possibly
they both had a sound meaning, though it was
couched under words that sound a little harsh;
and this meaning now and then breaks forth,
particularly when they celebrate God for dis-
posing all things, by an eternal law, accord-
ing to his own good pleasure, and thereby
make him the supreme and universal govern-
or, subject to no other, but, in some respect,
to himself, or to his decrees: which, if you
understand them in a sound sense, is all that
they can mean by their to coſpºrarov and their
to dueraðAmrov. The same judgment is to be
passed with regard to what we find said about
fortune: for either that word signifies moth-
ing at all, or you must understand by it, the
Supreme Mind, freely disposing of all things.
And this is very clearly attested by the fol-
lowing excellent verses of Menander: “Cease
to improve your minds, for the mind of man
is nothing at all. The government of all
things is solely in the hands of fortune :
whether this fortune be a mind, or the Spirit
of God, or whatever else it is, it carries all
before it. Human prudence is but a vapor, a
mere trifle,” &c.f
We have also a great many proofs, that,
in the opinion of the old poets, fate and for-
tune were precisely the same ; one instance
whereof we meet with in the following pas-
Sage: “Fortune and fate, Pericles, are the
givers of all that man enjoys.”f
And, instead of the terms fate and fortune,
they sometimes used the word necessity.
But all these were but other names, though
* A. 6ápoet. Bombstv ráow rototy décois
Ełoflew 6 6eos, &c.
II .* - y 536 a Xé
f ILačkagóe votiv šxovres, où6év yáp tºčov
* * * 7 * *
v6pörtyos voijs £arty, a\A’b ris Tüxns,
ir' art roºro rvsöpa 6etov eire vois,
oùr' éori travrä kai kv3epvöv, kai orpe pov
Kai gå;ov, # rpávota 6' fi 6vnrfi, kāmvös,
Kai p\fivapas, &c.
*. e * - * *
# IIāvra rúxn kai poipa, IIspik\ces àvöpt dičociv.
ill-chosen, for Providence. Euripides having
said a great deal concerning fate or necessity,
at last resolves the whole into this: “Jupiter
executes, with thee, all he had decreed be-
fore.”%
And Homer's words are very remarkable:
“Jupiter,” says he, “increases or diminishes
the valor of men, as he thinks proper: for he
is the most powerful of all.”f And in another
place : “Jove from Olympus, distributes hap-
piness to good and bad men in general, and
every one in particular, as he himself thinks
proper.”f
Let us, therefore, look upon God as our
Father, and venture to trust him with our all.
Let us ask and beg of him what we want,
and look for supplies from no other quarter.
This, the indulgent father in Terence desired:
and much more our heavenly Father. And
surely everything is better conducted by a
dutiful love and confidence, than by an igno-
ble and servile fear; and we are very injuri-
ous both to him and ourselves, when we think
not, that all things, on his part, are managed
with the greatest goodness and bounty. It
is a true test of religion and obedience, when,
with honorable thoughts, and a firm confi-
dence in our Father, we absolutely depend
upon him, and serve him from a principle of
love. “Be not,” says Augustine, “a froward
boy, in the house of the best of fathers, loving
him when he is fond of thee, and hating him
when he gives thee chastisement, as if, in
both cases, he did not intend to provide an
inheritance for thee.”$ If we suppose this
Providence to be the wisest and the best, it
is necessary that in every instance our wills
should be perfectly submissive to its designs:
otherwise we prefer our own pleasure to
the will of Heaven, which appears very un-
natural. St. Augustime, on the expression
wp:right in heart, which we frequently meet
with in the psalms, makes an excellent ob-
servation: “If you cheerfully embrace,” says
he, “the Divine will in some things, but in
others would rather prefer your own, you are
crooked in heart, and would not have your
crooked inclinations conformed to his upright
intentions, but, on the contrary, would bend
his upright will to yours.”||
* Kai yáp Zság, vevan
2vv got rovro rehevrä.—EURIP. IN ALCESTIDE.
f Zeus 3' periiv Švépeogw 645AXst re pºwą9et re
"Orra's kev 398) now 6 yāp káptuoros dirávrov.
HoM. II. xx.
f Zevs 6' durds vénet 5A3ov “OXúrio; div6pºtovow
'Eatºois #66 kakotov, Širo's 308Angév. čkárrq).
Homſ. ODyss. iv.
§ Nesis peur insulsus in domo optimi patris, amans
patrem, si tibi blanditur, et odio habens, quando te
flagellat; quasi non et blandiens, et flagellans hatre-
ditatem paret.
| Si voluntatem divinam in quibusdam amplecteris.
in aliis tuam malles, curvus es corde, et non vis cur-
yam tuam voluntatem ad illius rectam dirigere, sed
illus rectam vis ad tuam curvam incurvare.
680
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
LECTURE XIV.
CHRIST THE SAWIOR,
IT is acknowledged, that the publication of
the gospel is exceeding agreeable, and per-
fectly answers its original name, which signi-
fies good tidings. How much sweeter is this
# news, than the most ravishing and de-
ightful concerts of music Nay, these are the
best tidings that were ever heard in any age
of the world. O happy shepherds, to whom
this news was sent down from heaven Ye,
to be sure, though watching in the fields, ex-
posed to the severe cold of the night, were, in
this, more happy than kings that slept at
their ease in gilded beds; that the wonderful
nativity of the Supreme King, begotten from
eternity, that nativity which brought salva-
tion to the whole world, was first communi-
cated to you, and just at the time it happened.
Behold, says the angel, I bring you glad ti-
dings of great joy, which shall be to all people;
for unto you is born this day a Savior. Luke
ii. 10, 11. And immediately, a great company
of the heavenly host joined the angel, and in
your hearing sung, Glory to God in the highest.
And indeed, then, in thestrictest truth, “Amost
extraordinary child was sent down from the
lofty heavens,” &c.* Whence also, his name
was sent down along with him : His name
shall be called Jesus, for he shall save his
people from their sins. Matt. i. 21. “O sweet
name of Jesus,” says St. Bernard, “honey in
the mouth, melody in the ears, and healing
to the heart.” This is the Savior, who,
though we were so miserable, and so justly
miserable, yet, would not suffer us to perish.
Nor did he only put on our nature, but also our
sins; that is in a legal sense, our guilt being
transferred to him. Whence we not only read,
that the word was made flesh, John i. 14, but
also, that he was made sin for us, who knew
no sin : 2 Cor. W. 12: and even, as we have
it in the epistle to the Galatians, ch. iii. 13,
that he was made a curse, that from him an
eternal blessing and felicity might be derived
to us. The spotless Lamb of God bore our
sins, that were devolved upon him : by thus
bearing them, he destroyed them ; and by dy-
ing for them, gained a complete victory over
death. And how wonderful is the gradation
of the blessings he procured for us! He not
Only delivered us from a prison and death, but
presents us with a kingdom: according to that
of the psalmist, Who redeemeth thee from
destruction ; who crowneth thee with loving
kindness and tender mercies. Psalm ciii. 4.
I believe there are none so stupid or insen-
sible, as to refuse that these tidings are very
agreeable and pleasing to the ear. But we
may, not without some reason, suspect of the
greatest part of nominal Christians, who com-
monly receive these truths with great ap-
plause, that it may be said to them, without
* Jam nova progenies coelo demittitur alto, &c.
VIRG. Ecl
any injustice, what is all this to you? These
privileges are truly great and manifold, and
indifferently directed to all to whom they are
preached, unless they reject them, and shut
the door against happiness offering to come
in : and this in not only the case of a great
part of mankind, but they also impose upon
themselves by false hopes, as if it were enough
to hear of these great blessings, and dream
themselves happy, because these sounds had
reached their ears. But, O unhappy men
what will all these immense riches signify to
you, I must indeed say, if you are not allowed
to use them, but rather, if you know not how
to avail yourselves of them 3 I therefore
earnestly wish that these words of the gospel
were well fixed in your minds: He was in the
world, and the world was made by him, and
the world knew him not. He came unto his
own, and his own received him not ; but as
many as received him, to them gave he power
to become the sons of God. John i. 10–12. In
him all the treasures of wisdom and knowl-
edge are hid, Col. ii. 3 ; and without him,
there is nothing but emptiness, because in
him all fulness doth dwell. But what advan-
tage can it be to us to hear these riches of our
Jesus spoken of at great length, and to excel-
lent purpose, or even to speak of them our-
selves, if, all the while, we talk of them as a
good foreign to us, and in which we have no
concern, because our hearts are not yet Open
to receive him 2 What, pray, would the
most accurate description of the Fortunate
islands, as they called, or all the wealth of
the Indies and the New World, with all its
golden mines, signify to a poor man half na-
ked, struggling with all the rigors of cold and
hunger ? Should one, in these circumstances,
I say, hear or read of these immense treasures,
or should any one describe them to him in
the most striking manner, either by word of
mouth, or with the advantage of an accurate
pen; can it be doubted, but this empty display
of riches, this phantom of wealth and affluence,
would make his sense of want and misery the
more intolerable 2 Unless it be supposed,
that despair had already reduced him to a
state of insensibility. What further enhances
the misery of those who hear of this treasure,
and think of it to no purpose, is this, that there
is no one of them, who is not miserable by
choice, and a beggar in the midst of the great-
est wealth ; and not only miserable by choice,
but obstimately so, from an invincible and dis-
tracted fondness for the immediate causes of
his misery. “For who but a downright mad-
man would reject such golden offers ?”
To give a brief and plain state of the case :
to those who sincerely and with all their
hearts receive him, Christ is all things 3 to
those who receive him not, nothing. For,
how can any good, however suitable or ex-
tensive, be actually enjoyed, or indeed any
such enjoyment conceived, without some kind
* Quis enim nisi mentis inops oblatum noc respuat
aurum ?
REGENERATION.
681
of union, between that good and the person
supposed to stand in need of it ! Behold says,
the psalmist, all those that are far from thee
shall perish. Psalm lxxiii. 27. To be united
to God, is the great and the only good of man-
kind. And the only means of this union, is
Jesus. In whatever sense you take it, he ought
truly to be called the union of unions ; who,
that he might with the greater consistency,
and the more closely, unite our souls to God,
. not disdain to unite himself to a human
Ody.
The great business of our life, therefore,
young gentlemen, is this acceptance of Christ,
and this inseparable union with him, which
we are now recommending. Thrice happy,
and more than thrice happy, are they who
are joined with him in this undivided union,
which no complaints, nor even the day of
death, can dissolve. Nay, the last day is hap-
py above all other days, for this very reason,
that it fully and finally completes this union,
and is so far from dissolving it, that it renders
it absolutely perfect and everlasting:
But, that it may be coeval with eternity,
and last for ever, it is absolutely necessary
that this union should have its beginning in
this short and fleeting life. And pray, what
hinders those of us that have not entered into
this union before, to enter into it without de-
lay ? seeing the bountiful Jesus not only re-
jects none that come unto him, but also offers
himself to all that do not wilfully reject him,
and standing at the door, earnestly beg to be
admitted. Oh, why do not these everlasting
doors open, that the King of glory may enter,
and reign within us? Nay, though he were
to be sought in a far country, and with great
labor, why should we delay, and what unhap-
py chains detain us? Why do we not, after
shaking them all off, and even ourselves, go
as it were out of ourselves, and seek him in-
cessantly till we find him 2 Then, rejoicing
over him, say with the heavenly Spouse, I
held him, and would not let him go ; and fur-
ther add, with the same Spouse, that blessed
expression, My beloved is mine, and I am his.
And, indeed, this interest is always recipro-
cal. No man truly receives Jesus, who does
not at the same time deliver up himself whol-
ly to him. Among all the advantages we
pursue, there is nothing comparable to this
exchange. Our gain is immense from both ;
not only from the acceptance of him, but also
from surrendering ourselves to him. So long
as this is delayed, we are the most abject
slaves. When one has delivered himself up
to Christ, then, and then only, he is truly
free, and becomes master of himself. Why
should we wander about to no purpose ? To
him let us turn our eyes, on him fix our
thoughts, that he who is ours by the donation
of the Father, and his own free gift, may be
ours by a cheerful and joyous acceptance. As
St. Bernard says in those words of the proph-
et, To us a child is born, to us a son is given :
“Let us therefore make use of what is ours,
for our own advantage.” So, then, let him
be ours by possession and use,i and let us be
his for ever, never forgetting how dearly he
has bought us.
sºmºmºmºmºsºms
LECTURE XV.
REGENERATION.
THE Platonists divide the world into two,
the sensible and the intellectual world : they
imagine the one to be the type of the other,
and that sensible and spiritual things are
stamped, as it were, with the same stamp or
seal. These sentiments are not unlike the
notions which the masters of the cabalistical
doctrine among the Jews, held concerning
God's sephiroth and seal, wherewith, accord-
ing to them, all the worlds, and everything in
them, are stamped or sealed. And these are
probably near akin to what Lord Bacon of
Verulam calls, his parallela signacula, and
symbolizantes schematism. According to this
hypothesis, these parables and metaphors,
which are often taken from natural things to
illustrate such as are Divine, will not be si-
militudes taken entirely at pleasure, but are
often, in a great measure, founded in nature
and the things themselves. Be this as it may,
that great change which happens in the Souls
of men by a real and effectual conversion to
God, is illustrated in the Holy Scriptures by
several remarkable changes, both natural and
civil, particularly by a deliverance from chains,
prison, and slavery, by a transition from one
kingdom to another; and from darkness to
light; by a restoration from death to life :
by a new creation ; by a marriage 3 and by
adoption, and regeneration. Concerning this
great change, as it is represented under the
last of these figures, we propose, with Divine
assistance, to offer a few thoughts from those
words of St. John’s gospel which we have
already mentioned: To as many as received
him, to them gave he power (or the privilege)
to become the sons of God. John i. 12. To-
gether with these words of our Savior, in an-
other place of the same gospel: Eaccept a
man be born again, of water and of the Spir-
it, he can not enter into the kingdom of God.
John iii. 3.
If, indeed, we consider the nature and the
original of man, it is not without reason that
he is called the son of God, according to that
passage which the apostle, in his short, but
most weighty sermon to the Athenians, quotes
from the poet Aratus, and at the same time
approves of, For we are all his offspring-f
Acts xvii. 28. Our first parent, in St. Luke's
gospel, is also expressly called the son of
God ; Luke iii. ult., not only because he was
* Puer natus est nobis, filius nobis datus est; uta-
mur, inquit, nostro utilitatem nostram.
f Krmaet kai Xpmael.
# Tov yag kat yevos sapiev.
86
682
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
created immediately by God, without any
earthly father, but also on account of the Di-
vine image that was originally impressed
upon the human nature.
And this glorious title, which distinguishes
him from all other corporeal beings, he has
in common with the angels, who are also so
called in several places in the book of Job.
Job i. 6; xxxviii. 7. It is indeed true, to use
the words of St. Basil, that “every piece of
workmanship bears some mark or character
of the workman who made it.” For I should
rather choose, in this case, to use the word
mark, or character, than likeness. But of
man alone it is said, Let us make him after
our own image. And this distinction is not
improperly expressed by the schoolmen, who
say, as we have already observed, that all the
other works of God are stamped with the
print of his foot, but only man, of all the vis-
ible creation, honored with the image or like-
ness of his face. And indeed, on account of
this image or resemblance it is that he is in
dignity very nearly equal to the angels, though
made inferior to them. Here it is to be ob-
served that this inferiority is but little, Who
was made, saith the apostle, a little lower
than the angels. Heb. ii. 9. So that, with re-
gard to his body, he is nearly related to the
brute creatures, and only a little Superior to
them with regard to temperament and the
beautiful elegance of his frame, but made out
of the very same materials, the same moist
and soft clay, taken from the bosom of their
great and common mother; whereas, to use
the words of the poet, “The soulis the breath
of God, which takes its rise from heaven, and
is closely united to his earthly body, like a
light shut up in a dark cavern.”f
That Divine part of the human composition
derives its original from the Father of Spirits,
in the same manner with those ministers of
fire, who are not confined to corporeal ve-
hicles; concerning whom, the oracle, having
acknowledged one Supreme Divine Majesty,
immediately subjoins, “And we angels are
but a small part of God.”f
And with regard to this principle which ex-
cels in man, which actually constitutes the
man, and on account of which he most truly
deserves that name, he is a noble and divine
animal. And whatever some fanciful and
º men may boast concerning their fami-
ies, “If we consider our originals, and that
God was the author of the human kind, none
of Adam's race can be called ignoble.”||
But if, on the other hand, we regard our
woful fall, which was the consequence of sin,
we are all degenerate ; we have all fallen
* IIāv rô Épyašáuevov #xelv rivà row rékrovos rörov.
f \ºvyi. 3' earív impa Beow kai Híčw dverxm
Oüpavin 2:00wioto, páos arm-vyy, káAvg.0ev.
NAZ. DE ANIMA.
f Makpá če 6sov uépie àyyeXot juets.
| Si primordia nostra,
Anthoremgue Deum spectes,
Nullus degener extat.—BoETH. DE Cons. PHIL.,
lib. iii., met. 6. |
from the highest honor into the greatest dis-
grace, and the deepest gulf of all sorts of mis-
ery; we have given away our liberty and
greatest dignity, in exchange for the most
shameful and most deplorable bondage ; in-
stead of the sons of God, we are become the
slaves of Satan : and if we now want to know
to what family we belong, the apostle will
tell us that we are children of wrath, and sons
of disobedience.* Eph. ii. 2, 3.
But, as the overflowing Fountain of good-
ness and bounty did not choose that so noble
a monument of his wisdom should be entire-
ly ruined by this dismal fall, could any one
be more proper to raise it up again, or better
qualified to restore men to the dignity of the
sons of God, than his own eternal Son, who
is the most perfect and express image of the
Father ? Nor does this glorious person de-
cline the severe service. Though he was the
son of his Father's love, the heir and Lord of
the whole universe; though he might be
called the delight of his most exalted Father,
and of all blessed spirits, and now, with the
greatest justice, the darling of the human
kind; yet he left his Father's bosom, and, O
wonderful condescension! became the son of
man, that men might anew become the sons
of God. Whence he is also called The second
Adam, because he recovered all that was lost
by the first.
That all who sincerely receive him, might
be again admitted into the enbraces of the
Father, and no more be called children of
wrath, he himself submitted to the punish-
ment due to our disobedience ; and by bearing
it, removed our guilt, and pacified justice.
He also went into the flames of Divine wrath,
to deliver us from them ; and by a plentiful
stream of his most precious blood, quite ex-
tinguished them. He likewise took effectual
care that those who were no longer to be
called children of wrath, should also cease to
be children of disobedience, by pouring out
upon them a plentiful effusion of his sancti-
fying Spirit; that their hearts being thereby
purged from all impure affections and the
love of earthly things, they might, under the
influence of the same good Spirit, cheerfully
lead a life of sincere and universal obedience.
Now, it can not be doubted that those who
are so actuated and conducted by the Di-
vine Spirit, are truly the sons of God ; whence
that spirit whereby they call God their Fa-
ther, and with confidence apply to him as
such, is called the Spirit of adoption.
Moreover, this wonderful restoration is of.
ten called adoption, not only to distinguish it
from the natural and incomparable dignity
which belongs to the only begotten Son, but
also because we by no means derive this priv-
ilege from nature, but absolutely from the
free donation of the Father, through the me-
diation of his only Son. We must not, how-
ever, conclude from this, that this privilege
* “You are:6etas kai rekva opyns.
REGENERATION.
683
has nothing more in it than an honorable title,
or, as they call it, an external relation. . For
it is not only inseparably connected with a
real and internal change, but with a remark-
able renovation, and, as it were, a transform-
alion of all the faculties of the soul, nay, even
of the whole man. You will accordingly find
these words applied to this purpose, by the
Apostle Paul, in his epistle to the Romans,
ch. xii. 2. And, to conclude, it is with a view
to convince us, that, together with the title
of sons, the Spirit of God is given to believ-
ers, and they are inwardly renewed thereby,
that we so often in Scripture meet with this
regeneration which is the subject of our pres-
ent discourse.
If we consider the lives of men, we shall
be apt to imagine that the generality of man-
kind who live in the world under the name
of Christians, think it sufficient for them to
be called by this name, and dream of nothing
further. The common sort of mankind hear
with pleasure and delight of remission of
sins, imputed righteousness, of the dignity of
the sons of God, and the eternal inheritance
annexed to that dignity; but when they are
told that repentance, a new heart, and a new
life, contempt of the world and the pleas-
ures of the flesh, fasting and prayer, are ab-
solutely necessary for a Christian, These are
hard sayings, who can bear them 2 Though
at the same time it must be said, that they
who do not regard these necessary duties,
will have no share in the reward annexed to
them.
There are many things which distinguish
this Divine adoption from that which obtains
among men. 1st, The former is not an ex-
pedient to supply the want of children, which
is commonly the case among men ; for God
has his only begotten Son, who is incompara-
bly preferable to all the rest taken together ;
who is immortal as his Father; and though,
from a principle of wonderful humility, he
condescended to become mortal, and even to
die, yet he rose again from the dead, and liv-
eth for ever. From him is derived all that
felicity which our heavenly Father is pleased
to confer upon us, out of his mere grace and
bounty, through the merits and mediation of his
dear Son. And is there any one on whom this
felicity is bestowed, who will not freely ac-
knowledge himself to be quite unworthy of
so great an honor 3 Yet, such honor has the
eternal and incomprehensible love of God con-
descended to bestow on us, who are quite un-
worthy and undeserving. And in this also
the Divine adoption differs from that which
is customary among men, who generally
choose the most deserving they can meet
with : but all those whom God maketh choice
of, are unworthy, and some even are remark-
ably so.
2dly, Men generally adopt but one apiece,
or, at most, a few ; but Divine adoption ad-
mits into the heavenly family a most numer-
ous host, extending even unto myriads, that
Jesus, who is at the head of the family, may
be the first-born among many brethren. Ro-
mans viii. 29.
And 3dly, They are all heirs. Whence it
is said, in another place, That he might bring
many sons unto glory. Heb. ii. 10. , Nor is the
inheritance of any individual in the least di-
minished in consequence of so vast a multi-
tude of heirs; for it is an inheritance in light,
and every one has the whole of it. Nor do
the children come into the possession of this
inheritance by the death of the Father, but
every one when he dies himself; for the Fa-
ther is immortal, and, according to the apos-
tle, the only one that has immortality; that
is, in an absolute, primary, and independent
sense. Nay, he himself is the eternal inher-
itance of his sons, and death alone brings
them into his presence, and admits them into
the full enjoyment of him.
4thly (which I would have particularly ob-
served), This Divine adoption is not a matter
of mere external honor, nor simply the be-
stowing of riches and an inheritance ; but is
always attended with a real internal change
of the man himself to a being quite different
from what he was before (which is also re-
corded in sacred Scripture, concerning Saul,
when he was anointed king); but this, hu-
man adoption can by no means perform.
This last, in the choice of a proper object,
Justly pays regard to merit. For though the
richest and even the best of men, may clothe
richly the person whom he has thought prop-
er to adopt, and get him instructed in the
best principles and rules of conduct, yet, he
can not effectually divest him of his innate
dispositions, or those manners that have be-
come natural by custom; he can not form his
mind to noble actions, nor plant within him
the principles of fortitude and virtue. But
He who formed the heart of man, can reform
it at his pleasure; and this he actually does:
whenever he admits a person into his royal
family, he, at the same time, endows him
with royal and divine dispositions. . . And
therefore, if he honors any person with his
love, that person thereby becomes deserving ;
because, if he was not so before, he makes
him so ; he stamps his own image upon him
in true and lively colors; and, as he is holy
himself, he makes him holy likewise. Hence,
it is, that this heavenly adoption is no less
properly, truly, or frequently, in the sacred
Scriptures, called regeneration. [TIaşiyyevsgia.]
And though a Jew, and a celebrated doctor
of the Jewish law, excepted against this doc-
trine, when it was proposed to him under
this name; yet, neither all of that nation, nor
even the Gentile philosophers, were quite un-
acquainted with it. Rabbi Israel calls prose-
lytes, new-born Jews. And those passages
which we frequently meet with, concerning
the seed of Abraham, and, in the prophets,
concerning the numerous converts that were
to be made to the church, are, by their Rab:
bins, and the Chaldee paraphrase, applied
684
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
to this spiritual generation, which they be-
lieved would remarkably take place in the
days of the Messiah; particularly those two
passages in the Psalms, in one whereof the
spiritual sons of the church are compared to
the drops of the morning dew, Psalm xlv. 16:
cx. 3; not only on account of its celestial pu-
rity, but also with regard to the vast multi-
tude of them. Some of these doctors also ob-
serve, that the number of proselytes would be
so great in the days of the Messiah, that the
church, omitting the ceremony of circumcis-
ion, would receive them into its bosom, and
initiate them by ablution or baptism. Con-
cerning this renovation of the mind, Philo Ju-
daeus says expressly, “God, who is unbegot-
ten himself, and begets all things, sows this
seed, as it were, with his own hand,” &c. *
Hierocles, and other Pythagorean philoso-
phers, treat also of this moral or mystical re-
generation ; and under this very name, Plu-
tarch also makes mention of it, and defines it
to be “the mortification of irrational and ir-
regular appetites.” And Seneca’s words rela-
tive to this subject are: “The families of the
arts and sciences are the most noble ; choose
into which of them you will be adopted, for
by this means we may be born according to
our own choice; nor will you be adopted into
the name only, but also into the goods of the
family.”f
Is not, also, the common custom that pre-
vailed among the ancients, of honoring their
heroes, and those men who were remarkable
for exalted virtue, with the title of sons of
God, a plain allusion to this adoption we have
under our consideration ? And what we have
observed on the philosophers, who acknowl-
edged this moral or metaphorical regenera-
tion, is so very true, that it gave a handle to
the fictions of those ancient heretics who
evaded the whole doctrine and faith of the
last resurrection, by putting this figurative
sense upon it. As to what the Roman phi-
losopher observes, that we may be born in
this manner at our own pleasure or discre-
tion, though to be sure it is not without our
consent, yet, it does not altogether, nor prin-
cipally depend upon us. Our sacred and
apostolic docurine presents us with much
more just and pure notions on this subject
when it teaches us, that, Of his own will he
begat us by the word of truth. James i. 18.
This is also represented in express terms in
those words of the gospel which immediately
follow the passage we mentioned at the be-
ginning of this discourse. Which were born
not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor
of the will of man, but of God. John i. 13.
And, with great propriety, there is immedi-
ately added, another generation still more
* 'Ayívvnros b 6ebs, kair à avgravrá , śvvöv, areipei
wev roñro royevvmpa rö tätov, &c.
f Nobilissimae sunt ingeniorum familiae, elige in
quam adscici, velis, hac enim ratione, nobis ad arbit-
rium nostrum nasci licet; nec in nomen tantum adop-
taberis, sedet in ipsa bona.
wonderful and mysterious, which is the prin-
cipal and source of this renovation of ours:
The word was made flesh. For, to this end,
God was pleased to ciothe himself with our
flesh, that he might put his Spirit within us,
whereby we, though carnal in consequence
of the corruption of our nature, might be
born again into a new, spiritual, and Divine
life. The Holy Ghost, by overshadowing the
blessed Virgin, was, in a very particular man-
ner, the author of the human nature of the
Son of God; and to the virtue and Divine
power of the same Spirit, all the adopted
children of the Deity owe their new birth.
And as creation goes sometimes under the
name of generation (for instance, in the words
of Moses, Deut. xxxii. 18), Of the Rock that
begot thee thou art unmindſul, and hast for-
gotten the God that formed thee: that book
also of the Bible, which, from the first word
of it, is called Bereshith, is by the Greeks
named Genesis, and in the oldest copy of the
Septuagint, The generation of the world ;
and, in the beginning of it, Moses, speaking
of the creation of the world, says, These are
the generations of the heaven and the earth.
(Gen. ii. 4.) So on the other hand, this spir-
itual generation is called creation, and with
an additional epithet, the new creation. It
has also, for its author, the same powerful
Spirit of God, who of old sat upon the face
of the waters as a bird upon its young, or as
St. Basil renders it, hatched : so, also, in con-
version the same Spirit rests upon our unin-
formed minds, that are lifeless, unprepared,
and nothing at all but emptiness and obscu-
rity, and out of this darkness brings forth
light, which was the first and most beautiful
ornament of the universe. To which the
apostle also alludes in his second epistle to
the Corinthians, ch. iv. 6. The resurrection
of the dead, is also the peculiar work of this
living Spirit of God; and to him the apostle
Peter expressly ascribes the resurrection of
Christ: For Christ also, says he, hath once
suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that
he might bring us to God, being put to death
in the flesh, but quickened by the Spirit. 1 Pe-
ter iii. 18. And here, again, there is a mutual
exchange of names; for, in the gospel ac-
cording to Matthew, the resurrection of the
dead is called the regeneration: Verily, 1
say unto you, says Our Lord, that ye which
have followed me in the regeneration, when
the Son of man shall sit in the throne of his
glory, ye shall also sit upon twelve thrones.
Matt. xix. 28. Here, In the generation, must
be connected with the following words, and
by no means with those that go before. And
that this was the common method of speak-
ing among the Jews, appears from Josephus:
“To those,” says he, “whose fate it is to
die for observing the law, God has given the
privileges of being born again, and enjoying
a more happy life, so that they are gainers
by the exchange.” In like manner Philo
* Tots trip vénøv diapukáx6evrov droßavoiat iówkey
REGENERATION.
685
saith, “We shall hasten to the generation af-
ter death, &c.” On the other hand, it is
very well known, that this spiritual regenera-
tion we are speaking of, is often in Scripture
called the resurrection.
Of this resurrection, the word of the gospel
is, as it were, the trumpet; and, at the same
time, the immortal seed of this new birth,
and therefore, of immortality itself. Thus it
is represented by the apostle Peter, 1 Pet. i.
23, and by the apostle James, who expressly
tells us, that He hath begotten us with the
word of truth. James i. 18. Now, the enli-
yening virtue and plastic power of this word
is derived from the Holy Ghost, who is the
true spring and fountain of this new life. Nor
are the most extended powers of the human
mind, or the strength of its understanding,
any more able to restore this life within it,
even upon hearing the glad tidings of the
gospel, than it was capable of producing it-
self at first, or of being the author of its own
hºg, or, after death, of restoring itself to
1IB.
To this exalted dignity are admitted the
humble, the poor, the obscure, the ignorant,
barbarians, slaves, sinners, whom the world
look upon as nothing, and hold in the great-
est contempt: of these nothing is required
but true and sincere faith ; no learning, nor
noble extract, nor any submission to the
Mosaic law; but upon every man of what-
ever rank or condition, who believes this
word, he in return bestows this dignity, that
they should become the sons of God; that is,
that what Christ was by nature, they should
oecome by grace. Now, what is more sub-
lime and exalted than this honor, that those
who were formerly children of Satan, and
heirs of hell, should by faith alone be made
the sons of God, brethren of Christ, and joint
heirs of the heavenly kingdom ? If the sa-
cred fire of the Romans happened at any time
to be extinguished, it could only be lighted
again at the rays of the sun. The life of
souls to be sure, is a sacred flame of Divine
love: this flame, as we are now born into the
froward race of fallen mankind, is, alas! but
too truly and unhappily extinguished, and by
no means to be kindled again, but by the en-
livening light and heat of the Sun of righ-
teousness, who is most auspiciously risen
upon us.
LECTURE XVI.
REGENERATION.
THE great corruption of mankind, and their
innate disposition to every sort of wickedness,
even the doctors of the heathen nations, that
is, their philosophers and theologers, and their
$640s yiveabat ré taxw kai 8tov apſeuvo Aa3ew éx repurpo-
rns.—Lib. i. cont. APP.
* Eis traXiyyevería, bppingouev Hera röv 6ávarov.
poets also, were sensible of and acknowledged;
though they were quite ignorant of the source
from which this calamity was derived. They
all own, that “it is natural to man to sin.”
Even your favorite philosopher, who prevails
in the schools, declares that we are “strong-
ly inclined to vice;”f and speaking of the
charms and allurements of forbidden pleas-
ures, he observes, that mankind by nature
“is easily catched in these snares.”f The
Reman philosopher takes notice, that “the
way to vice is not only a descent, but a down-
right precipice.”|| And the comic poet, that
“mankind has always been, in every respect,
a deceitful, subtle creature.” The satirist
likewise observes, that “we are all easily
prevailed on to imitate things that are in
their nature wicked and disgraceful.” T And
the lyric poet, that “the human race, bold to
attempt the greatest dangers, rushes with
impetuosity upon forbidden crimes.”**
All the wise men among the heathens ex-
erted their utmost to remedy this evil by pre-
cepts and institutions of philosophy, but to
very little purpose. They could not, by all
their arts and all their precepts, make others
better: nay, with regard to most of them, we
may say, nor even themselves. But, “when
there was no wisdom in the earth,” says Lac-
tantius, “that blessed doctor was sent down
from heaven, who is the way, the truth, and
the life;if and, by an almighty power, effect-
ed what all others had attempted in vain.
It is not at all to be doubted, but the end
proposed by philosophy, was to renew and
reform mankind, and to reduce the course of
their lives to a conformity with the precepts
of wisdom and virtue. Whence the common
definition given of philosophy, is, that “it is
the rule of life, and the art or science of liv-
ing uprightly.” To this purpose Seneca says,
“Philosophy is the law of living honestly and
uprightly.” True religion, to be sure, has
the same tendency; but it promotes its end
with much greater force, and better success :
because its principles are much more exalted,
its precepts and instructions are of greater
purity, and it is, besides, attended with a Di-
vine power, whereby it makes its way into
the hearts of men, and purifies them with the
greatest force and efficacy, and yet, at the
same time, with the most wonderful pleasure
and delight. And this is the regeneration of
which we are speaking, and whereof we have
* >vuſpírov civaí roſs dwópérous ro àpaprávetv.
f Eökarapópovs. ARIST., Eth. ii.
f Eü0ñparov šivat in 6 rôv rotourów.
| Ad vitia, non tantum pronum iter, sed et praeceps.
§ AóAegos pèv act kará ràvra pń rpórov.
IIšbvkey àvôporos.
Dociles imitandis
Turpibus et pravis omnes sumus.
Juv. Satyr. xiv.
— Audax omnia perpeti,
Gens humana ruit per vetitum nefas.
| HoR. Carm., lib. 1., Od. 3.
i ft Sed cum nulla esset sapientia in terris, missus
este coelo doctor ille, via, veritas et vita.
##
686.
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
already observed, that philosophy acknowl-
edged it, even under the same name. But
that it effected it, we absolutely deny. Now,
it is evident from the very name, that we are
to understand by it an inward change, and
that a very remarkable one. And since God
is called the author and source of this change,
whatever the philosophers may have dispu-
ted, pro and con, concerning the origin of
moral virtue, we are by no means to doubt
but this sacred and Divine change upon the
heart of man is produced by an influence
truly Divine. And this was even Plato's
opinion concerning virtue; nor do I imagine
you are unacquainted with it. The same
philosopher, and several others besides him,
expressly asseried, that virtue was a kind of
image or likeness of God, nay, that it was
the effect of inspiration, and partook, in some
respect, of a kind of Divine nature. “No
mind can be rightly disposed without divine
influence,” says Seneca.” And it was the
saying of the Pythagorean philosophers, that
“ the end of man is to be made like to God.”f
“This mind,” says Trismegistus, “is God in
man, and therefore some of the number of
men are gods.”f And a little farther on, “In
whatever souls the mind presides, it illustrates
them with its own brightness, opposing their
immoralities and mad inclinations, just as a
learned physician inflicts pain upon the body
of his patient, by burning and cutting it, in
order to recover it to health : in the same
manner, the mind afflicts a voluptuous soul,
that it may pull up pleasure by the very
roots. For all diseases of the soul proceed
from it: impiety is the severest distemper of
the soul.”!
What wonder is it, then, if these very
thoughts are expressed in the more Divine
oracles of the sacred Scriptures more fully,
and with greater clearness? and this confirma-
tion of the human mind to the Divine nature,
is commonly represented therein, as the great
business and the end of all religion.
What was more frequently inculcated upon
the ancient church of the Jews, than these
words, Be ye holy, because I am holy? And that
the same ambition is recommended to Chris-
tians, appears from the first sermon we meet
with in the gospel of our I, ord and Savior, who
came down to this earth, that he might re-
store the Divine image upon men. Be merci-
jul, says he, as your Father, who is in heav-
en, is merciful. And according to Luke, Be
perfect, as your Father is perfect. And again,
Blessed are the pure in heart. And, indeed,
this is the true beauty of the heart, and its true
nobility ; but vice introduces degeneracy, and
deformity also.
Now, the more the mind disengages and
withdraws itself from “matter that pollutes
it,” that is, from the body it inhabits, the
purer and more Divine it constantly becomes;
because it attains to a greater resemblance with
the Father of spirits, and, as the Apostle Peter
expresses, partakes more fully of the Divine
nature. Hence it is, that the Apostle Paul
warns us at so great length, and in such strong
terms, against living after the flesh, as the
very death of the soul, and directly opposite
to the renewed nature of a Christian. He
that is born of God is endued with a great-
ness of soul, that makes him easily despise,
and consider as nothing, those things which
he prized at a very high rate before: he con-
siders heaven as his country, even while he
lives as a stranger on this earth ; he aspires
at the highest objects, and, flying up toward
heaven, with soaring wings, he “ looks down
with contempt upon the earth.”f
And yet, with all this sublimity of mind he
joins the deepest humility. But all the allure-
ments of sin, though they continue to have
the same appearance they had before, and
possibly throw themselves in his way, as the
very same that were formerly dear to him,
he will reject with indignation, and give them
the same answer as St. Ambrose tells us was
given by a young convert to his mistress,
with whom he had formerly lived in great
familiarity : “Though you may be the same,
I am not the same I was before.”f
Lactantius elegantly sets forth the wonder-
ful power of religion in this respect ; “Give
me,” says he, “a man that is passionate, a
slanderer, one that is headstrong and unman-
ageable; with a very few of the words of
God, I will make him as quiet as a lamb.
Give me a covetous, avaricious, or close-
handed person; I will presently make him
liberal, and oblige him to give away his mon-
ey in large quantities with his own hands.
Give me one that is afraid of pain or of death;
he shall, in a very little time, despise crosses,
flames, and even Phalaris's bull. Show me a
lustful person, an adulterer, a complete de-
bauchee; you shall presently see him sober,
chaste, and temperate.” So great is the
power of Divine wisdom, that, as soon as it
is infused into the human breast, it presently
expels folly, which is the source and fountain
of sin, and so changes the whole man, so re-
fines, and as it were renews him, that you
would not know him to be the same. It is
prophesied of the days of the Messiah, that
the wolf and the lamb shall dwell together, and
* 'Arö rms iXſis 6ep300%gas.
udam
Spermit humum fugiente penna.
* Nulla sine Deo bona mens est.
f TeXos āv6párov fºotwo is 68%.
f Ośros 8 votis Šv påv av60%rots 6ed; ëarív, 6.6 kai
rive; row av6067.cov 6eoi etat. [Trismeg.] Trept row kot-
vov rpoS rar.
| "Ooais &v vöv påxats, &c.
f At ego certe non sum ego. - º
| Da mihi virum qui sit iracundus, maledicus, ef.
frånatus; paucissimis Dei verbis tam placidum quam
ovem reddam. Da cupidum, avarum, tenacem ; jam
tibi eum liberalem dabo, et pecuniam Suam propriis
plenisque; manibus largientem. Da timidum doloris
ac mortis; jam cruces, et ignes, et Phalaridis taurum
contemnet. Da libidinosum, adulterum, ganeonem ;
jam sobrium, castum, continentem widebis.
REGENERATION.
687
the leopard lie down with the kid. Isa. xi. 6.
The gospel has a wonderful effect in soften-
ing even the roughest dispositions, and “there
is none so wild, but he may be tamed, if he
will but patiently give attention to this whole-
some doctrine.”
Now, whether you call this renovation or
change of the mind, repentance, or Divine love,
it makes no difference; for all these, and,
indeed, all the Christian graces in general,
are, at bottom, one and the same, and, taken
together, constitute what we may call the
health and vigor ºf the mind ; the term under
which Aristo of Chios comprehended all
the moral virtues. The Apostle Paul, in
his second Epistle to the Corinthians, chap.
vi. 17, describes these adopted children of
God by their repentance: in the Epistle to
the Romans, they are characterized by their
love, Rom. viii. 28; and in the passage of St.
John's gospel we have mentioned already, by
their faith, John i. 12. But whatever name
it is conveyed by, the change itself is effected
by the right hand of the Most High. As to
the manner of this divine operation, to raise
many disputes about it, and make many curi-
ous disquisitions with regard to it, would be
not only quite needless, but even absurd. Solo-
mon, in his Ecclesiastes, chap. xi. 5, gives
some grave admonitions with regard to the
secret processes of nature in forming the foetus
in the womb, to convince us of our blindness
with respect to the other works of God: how
much more hidden and intricate, and even past
our finding out, is this regeneration, which is
purely spiritual This is what our Savior
also teaches us, when he compares this new
birth to the unconfined and unknown turnings
and revolutions of the wind ; a similitude
which Solomon had lightly touched before, in
that passage of the Ecclesiastes, to which we
just now alluded. O ! that we felt within our-
selves this blessed change, though weshould re-
main ignorant with regard to the manner of it;
since we are sufficiently apprized of one thing,
which it is greatly our interest frequently and
seriously to reflect upon | Unless a man be
born again, he can not see the kingdom of
God. This spiritual progeny is also compar-
ed to the dew, the generation whereof is hid-
den and undiscovered. Hath the rain a fa-
ther, and who hath begotten the drops of the
dew 2 Job xxxiii. 28. Good men are also call-
ed children of light, and light in the Lord,
1 Thess. v. 5; Eph. v. 8. But it is from the Fa-
ther of lights himself, and from his only be-
gotten Son, that these stars (for this title of
the angels may, without injustice, be applied
to them) derive all the light they enjoy. Now,
the nature of light is very intricate, and the
emanation and the manner of its production
is yet a secret even to the most sharp-sighted
of those who have made nature their study,
and no satisfactory theory of it has yet ap-
peared. But, whatever it is, it was produced
* Nemo adeo ferus est, ut non mitescere possit
Huic unodo doctrinae patientem commodet auren.
by that first and powerful word of Eternal and
uncreated light. Let there be light. By the
same powerful word of the Almighty Father,
there immediately springs up in the mind
which was formerly quite involved in the
darkness of ignorance and error, a Divine and
immortal light, which is the life of men, and,
in effect, the true regeneration. And because
this is the most effectual means of purifying
the soul, it is ascribed to the water and to the
Spirit. For this illumination of the Holy
Ghost is, indeed, the inward baptism of the
Spirit; but, in the primitive times of Chris-
tianity, the baptism of water, on account of
the supposed concurrence of the Spirit, was
commonly called the illumination, and the
Solemn seasons appointed for the celebration
of this mystery, days of illumination or light.
And in the very same manner, the baptism
of the Holy Ghost is by John Baptist called
the baptism of fire, on account of the wonder-
ful influence it has in illuminating and puri-
fying the soul. It is, to be sure, a celestial fire,
quite invisible to our eyes, and of such a na-
ture, that the secret communications of it to
our souls can not be investigated. But the
sum of all is what follows.
It seemed good to Infinite Goodness and
Wisdom, to form a noble piece of coin out of
clay, and to stamp his own image upon it,
with this inscription, “The earthly son of
God ;” this is what we call man. But, alas!
how soon did this piece of coin fall back to
clay again, and thereby lost that true image,
and had the inscription shamefully blotted
out ! From that time, man, who was former-
ly a Divine creature, and an angel clothed
with flesh, became entirely fleshly, and in
reality a brute: the soul, that noble and ce-
lestial inhabitant of his earthly body, became
now quite immersed in matter, and, as it
were, entirely converted into flesh, as if it had
drunk of the river Lethe. Or, like the son of
an illustrious family, carried away in infancy
to a far country, it is quite ignorant of its
present misery, or the liberty and felicity it
has lost, becomes an abject slave, degraded to
the vilest employments, which it naturally
and with pleasure performs; because, having
lost all sense of its native excellence and dig-
nity, and forgotten its heavenly original, it
now relishes nothing but earthly things, and,
catching at present advantages, disregards
eternal enjoyments, as altogether unknown,
or removed quite out of sight. But if in any
particular soul, either from some spark of its
native excellency still remaining alive, or any
indistinct report that reaches it, some desires
or emotions toward the recovery of its native
liberty should arise; yet, as it has no sufficient
strength of its own, nor finds any way open
that can lead to so great a blessing, these in-
effectual wishes come to nothing ; and the un-
happy soul having lost its hopes, languishes
in its chains, and is at last quite stupified.
Philosophy, as we have already observed,
perceiving that man was born to higher views
688
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
than this world affords, attempted to raise
him from his present dejection, secure his
claim to heaven, and restore him to a con-
formity and likeness to God; but in vain. To
redeem the sons of man, and restore them to
what they had lost, it was necessary that the
eternal Son of God should come down from
heaven. Our fall was easily brought about,
but our restoration was a work of the greatest
difficulty, and only to be performed by the
powerful hand of God. There are but few
whom the exalted Father of spirits has loved,
and Christ has raised up to heaven. He is
the source whence the Spirit of God flows
down to us; he is the fountain of that new
life and sanctified nature, by which we mount
toward God, whereby we overcome the
world, and, in consequence thereof, are ad-
mitted into heaven. And, happy, to be sure,
are those truly noble souls whose fate it is to
be thus born again, to be admitted into the
choirs of the holy angels, and to be clothed
with those glorious robes that are whiter than
Snow ! They will follow the Lamb wherever
he goes, and he will lead them to the crystal
Streams, and even to the fountain of life itself.
But all those that are to be the attendants
of the Lamb in those blessed pastures which
are to be met with in his heavenly country,
must, of necessity, even while they live in
this lower world, be followers of him in his
humble innocence and purity. This spotless,
holy, and pure Lamb of God, is the guide and
shepherd of a pure and holy flock, a flock
dear to God, and of distinguished beauty; but
“ the shepherd is still more beautiful than
they.” But the impure goats and uncleanly
hogs he beholds at a distance, and leaves
them to unclean spirits, to be possessed by
them at pleasure, and afterward to be pre-
cipitated into the depth of misery; unless it
be determined to deliver some of them from
that shocking form, by a wonderful and di-
vine change, and to convert them into lambs,
which is effected in proper time, by the influ-
ence of the Holy Ghost. Whence they are
called the holy, pure, and divine sons of God;
and all love to earthly things, all carnal, impure
affections, are banished out of those hearts,
which are, as it were, temples consecrated
henceforth to God: “For the dwelling place
of the Holy One must be holy also.”f
LECTURE XVII.
TRUE FELICITY AND ETERNAL PUNISHMIENT.
O How insipid and unsatisfactory are all
the pleasures of this earthly life which we
now live, in respect of that incomparable and
altogether heavenly delight which attends
the meditation and contemplation of Divine
things . When mortals are thus employed,
they eat the bread of angels; and if there are
* Formosi pecoris custos formosior.
f “Aytov yáp âytov early 6tºnTiptov.
any who do not relish the sweetness of this
food, it is because the divine part of their
composition is become brutish, and, forget-
ting its original, lies buried in earth and mud.
But though the soul is reduced to these wo-
ful circumstances, it is not yet so entirely di-
vested of itself, but it still retains some faint
remains of its heavenly original and more ex-
alted nature; insomuch, that it can not acqui-
esce in, or be at all satisfied with those fa-
ding enjoyments wherewith it is surrounded.
nor think itself happy or easy in the greatest
abundance of earthly comforts. And though,
possibly, it may not be fully sensible of what
it wants; yet it perceives, not without some
pain and uneasiness, that something is still
wanting to make it happy. The truth is, be-
sides that great and unknown good, even those
whom, by an abuse of that term, we call
most happy, are in want of a great many
things. For, if we look narrowly into the
condition of those who are arrived at the
highest pitch of earthly splendor, we shall
certainly find some defect and imperfection in
it, and be obliged to conclude with the poet,
that “since the earth began to be inhabited
by men, a full cup of good things, without
any mixture of evil, never fell to the share of
one man; a graceful body is often dishonored
by bad morals, and a mind of uncommon
beauty is sometime joined to a deformed
body,” &c.” *
But what we call the chief and su-
preme good must of necessity be complete
and entirely ſree from every defect; and,
therefore, what is not in every respect per-
fect, properly speaking, is not perfect at all.
The happiness of rich and great men, which
the poor admire and respect, is only a gaudy
and splendid species of misery. What St.
Bernard says of the rash and ill-founded opin-
ion which the generality of mankind form of
the lives of the saints, from the imperfect
knowledge they have of them, “They see
our crosses, but they see not our comforts,”f
may be here inverted: we see the advantages
of those men that are puffed up with riches
and honors, but we see not their troubles,
and vexations. “I wish,” says one, “that
those who desire riches would consult rich
men; they would then, to be sure, be of
another opinion.”f
I will spend no more time in describing or
lamenting the wretched state of mankind on
this earth, because it would answer no end.
For, suppose a more complete assemblage of
sublunary enjoyments, and a more perfect
system of earthly felicity than ever the sun
beheld, the mind of man would instantly de-
vour it, and, as if it were still empty and un-
* — Elenim mortabilis ex quo
Tellus coepta coli, nunquam sincera bonorum
Sorsulli concessa viro; quem corpus honestat
Dedecorant mores; animus quem pulchrior ornat
Coepus destituit, &c. gº
f Cruces nostras vident. unctiones non vident.
f Utinam, utinam qui divitias appetunt, cum diviti-
bus deliberarent ; certe yota mutarent.
TRUE FELICITY AND ETERNAL PUNISHMENT.
689
Satisfied, would require something more. And,
indeed, by this insatiable thirst, the mind of
man discovers its natural excellence and dig-
nity ; for thus it proves, that all things here
below are insufficient to satisfy or make it
happy; and its capacity is so great and exten-
sive, that it can not be filled by the whole of
this visible frame of things. For, as St. Au-
gustine observes, “Thou hast made us, O
Huord, for thyself, and our hearts are restless
till they return to thee.” The mind that
makes God its refuge, after it has been much
tossed to and fro, and distressed in the world,
enjoys perfect peace and absolute security;
and it is the fate of those, and those only,
who put into this safe harbor, to have what
the same St. Augustine calls a very great
matter, “The frailty of man, together with
the security of God.”f
Therefore, it is not without reason, that
the royal psalmist boasts not of his victories,
nor the splendor of his royal crown, but of
this one advantage: The Lord is the portion
of mine inheritance, and of my cup; thou
maintainest my lot : and, on the justest
grounds, he immediately adds, The lines
have fallen to me in pleasant places ; yea, I
have a goodly heritage. Psalm xvi. 5, 6. And it
is quite agreeable to reason that what improves
and completes anything else must be itself
more complete and perfect: so that the mind of
man can neither be made happy by earthly
enjoyments, which are all far inferior to it in
dignity, nor be so in itself. Nay, neither can
the angels, though of a more perfect and sub-
lime nature, cónfer felicity either upon men
or themselves; but both they and we have
our happiness lodged in that Eternal Mind,
which alone is its own felicity. Nor is it
possible for us to find it anywhere else, but in
our union with that Original Wisdom and
goodness, from which we at first took our
rise. Away, then, with all the fictitious
schemes of felicity proposed by the philoso-
phers, even those of them that were most art-
fully contrived; for even Aristotle's perfec-
tion of virtue, as well as what the stoics fanci-
ed concerning their wise man, are mere fic-
tions. They are nothing but dreams and fan-
cies, that ought to be banished to Utopia.
For what they describe is nowhere to be
found among men, and if it were, it would
not constitute complete felicity. So far, in-
deed, they are to be commended, that they
call in the mind from external enjoyments to
itself; but in this they are defective, that
when the mind is returned to itself, they
carry it no further, nor direct it to ascend, as
it were, above itself. They sometimes, it is
true, drop such expressions as these, that
“there can be no good disposition of the mind
without God ;”f and that, in order to be hap-
py, the soul must be raised up to divine
" Fecistinos, Domine, propter te, et inquietum est
cor nostrum, donec in te redeat.
f Habere fragilitatem hominis et securitatem Dei.
f Nullum posse esses ine Deo bonam mentem.
the-by.
things: they also tell us, that “the wise
man loves God most of all, and for this rea-
son is the most happy man.” But these ex-
pressions they drop only at random, and by-
O ! how much fuller and clearer
are the instructions of the Teacher sent down
from heaven: Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they shall see God. Matt. v. 3.
But because the purest minds of the saints,
while they sojourn in this earth, still retain
some mixture of earthly dross, and arise not
to perfect purity; therefore they can not yet
enjoy the full vision of God, nor, consequent-
ly, that perfect happiness which is insepara-
bly connected with it. For they see only
darkly, and through a glass. 1 Cor. xiii. 12.
But with the advantage even of this obscure
light, they direct their steps, and go on cheer-
ful and unwearied. The long-wished-for day
will at length come, when they will he ad-
mitted into the fullest light. That day,
which the unhappy men of this world dread
as their last, the sons of light wish for, as
their nativity into an endless life, and em-
brace it with the greatest joy when it comes.
And this, indeed, seems to me to be the
strongest argument for another life and an
immortality to come. For since no complete
or absolutely perfect happiness is to be found
in this life, it must certainly folkow, that either
there is no such thing to be had anywhere, or
we must live again somewhere after our period
here is out. And O ! what fools are we, and
how slow of heart to believe, who think so
rarely, and with such coolness, of that blessed
country; and that, in this parched and thirsty
land, where even those few who are so hap-
py have only some foretastes of that supreme
happiness. But when they remove hence,
they shall be abundantly satisfied (or, as the
word ought to be translated, inebriabuntur,
intoaicated), O Lord, with the fatness of thy
house, and thou shalt make them drink of the
river of thy pleasures. Psalm xxxvi. 9. Thus
the divine psalmist expresses it ; and, to be
sure, it is very surprising that the great and
ancient philosopher Pythagoras, in commu-
nicating his thoughts upon the same subject,
should happen to fall upon the very same fig-
ure; for he used to promise those of his dis-
ciples who conducted themselves right in this
life, that they should be continually drunk; in
that which is to come.
But what we said formerly, of the felicity
of the life to come, and all that we could say,
were we to treat of the same subject over
again, is but mere trifling. And yet it is not
disagreeable to hear children speak, even with
stammering, about the dignity of their father,
and of the riches and magnificence of his in-
heritance. It is pleasant and decent to speak
of our native country, even while we are so-
journing in a foreign land. But, for the pres-
* *Apa 8 géºpos 6soºt)\{araros, kai čvá rotiro ëvčaipoveo-
7-0. Toge
f Meðhy devvaov.
-690
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
ent, I shall insist no longer on this subject,
but, turning the tables, lay before you that
dreadful punishment which stands in opposi-
tion to this happiness, by presenting you only
with a transient view of the future misery
of the wicked. And though this is indeed a
most unpleasant task, yet nothing but our
own carelessness and inattention can render
it useless.
Here, first of all, it is to be observed, that
as, in this life, there is no perfect felicity; so
neither here is there any complete misery.
Those whom we look upon as the most
wretched in this world, have their sufferings
checkered with many intervals of ease. But
the misery to come admits of no abatement ;
it is all of a piece, without admitting any
mixture of relief. They are surely mad with
their notions, who here talk of the advantages
of being or existence, and contend that it is
more desirable to be miserable than not to be
at all.” For my part, I am fully satisfied they
can never persuade any man of the truth of
their assertion ; nor even believe it them-
selves, when they think seriously on the sub-
ject. But not to insist on this, it is certain
that all kind of delights are for ever banished
from that eternal and frightful prison. There
there is no light, no day, nor sleep, which is
the blessing of the night, and, indeed, noth-
ing at all but places full of darkness, precipi-
ces, nakedness, and all kinds of horror; no
entertainments, merry meetings, nor any sen-
.sible pleasure ; and to be for ever separated
from all such must be no small misery, espe-
cially to those who used to pass their time
amid, such scenes of mirth and jollity, and
imagined themselves in some measure happy
therein. And that the remembrance of this
may distress them the more, they will be
continually haunted with a thought that will
'cleave to them like a worm devouring their
bowels, and constantly keep them in mind,
that out of a distracted fondness for those
fleeting pleasures which have now flown
away, without hope of returning, they have
lost those joys that are heavenly and eternal,
whereof they will have some knowledge;
But what kind of knowledge that will be, and
how far extended to enhance their torments,
is not Ours to determine. But who will at-
tempt to express the excess of their misery,
or describe those streams of brimstone, and
eternal flames of Tivine wrath Or rather,
who will not tremble, I say not in describing
them, but even in thinking of them, and be
quite overpowered with an idea so shocking 2
That I may no further attempt to speak
things unutterable,f and to derogate from a
grand subject by inadequate expressions, # be-
hold now, my dear youths, if you believe
these things, behold, I say, you have now
life and death laid before you; choose for
yourselves. And that you may not put off a
* Miserum esse quam non esse.
f Ta axºnra XaXetaflat.
flyſagna modis tenuare parvis.
matter of such importance, consider these
things, I pray, seriously, and say to your
selves, concerning the vanishing shadows of
external things, How long will these enjoy-
ments last 3 O ! how soon will they pass!
Even while I am speaking these words, while
I am thinking of them, they fly past me. Is
any one oppressed with calamities 2 Let
them say cheerfully, with a remarkably good
man, “Lord, while I am here, kill me, burn
me, only spare me there.” Is there any one
among you of weak capacity, unhappy in ex-
pressing himself, of an unfavorable aspect,
or deformed in body ? Let him say with
himself, “It is a matter of small consequence;
I shall soon leave this habitation, and, if I
am but good myself, be soon removed to the
mansions of the blessed.” Let these thoughts
prevent his being dejected in mind, or over-
come with too much sorrow. If any one is
distinguished by a good understanding, or
outward beauty, or riches, let him, reflect,
and seriously consider, how soon all excel-
lencies of this kind will pass away, that he
may not be vain, or lifted up with the advan-
tage of fortune. Let it be the chief care and
study of you all to avoid the works of dark-
ness, that so you may escape utter and eter-
nal darkness; and to embrace with open and
cheerful hearts that Divine light which hath
shone from heaven, that, when you are di-
vested of these bodies, you may be received
into the glorious mansions of that blessed
and perfect light.
-ms-
LECTURE XVIII.
THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION, AND THAT IT IS THE
TRUE WAY TO HAPPINESS.
I CONFEss, young gentlemen, that whenev-
er I think on the subject, I can not help won-
dering at the indolence and madness of man-
kind. For though we boast that to order our
affairs with prudence and discretion, and con-
duct our lives according to the principles of
reason, is the great privilege and ornament
of our nature, which distinguishes us from
the brute creatures; how few are there,
who, in this respect, act like men, who pro-
pose to themselves an end, and direct all
their actions to the attainment of it ! It is
very certain that the greatest part of man-
kind, with a folly something more than child-
ish, go in quest of painted butterflies, or com-
monly pursue the birds with stones and clods.
And even those who spin out their lives to
the utmost extent of old age, for the most part
gain little by it, but only this, that they may
be called IIatóes troAvXpóviot, very aged chil-
dren; being as ignorant as infants why they
came into the world, and what will become
of them when they leave it. Of all ques-
tions, therefore, none can be more properly
# Domine, hic ure, caede, modo ibi parcas.
THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.
691
proposed to you, who are just upon the verge
of manhood, I mean entering upon a rational
life, than this, Whither are you going 3
What good have you in view 2 To what end
do you propose to live 2 For hence, possi-
bly, your minds may be excited within you
to an earnest desire after that perfect and Su-
preme good ; and you may not content your-
selves with cool speculations upon this sub-
Ject, as if it were a logical or philosophical
problem that falls in your way of course, but
with that application which is proper in a
question concerning a matter of the greatest
moment, where it highly concerns us to be
well informed, and where the highest re-
wards and greatest dangers are proposed to
our view. And in this hope, I have often
addressed myself to you upon the subject of
happiness, or the supreme goods at different
periods of time; entertaining you, in the in-
tervals, with essays and suitable exhortations
upon other subjects, yet so as to observe a
kind of method, and keep up a connexion
throughout the whole. I have taken notice
of the name and general notion of happi-
ness, the universal desires and wishes where-
by men are excited to the pursuit of it, the
no less universal because natural ignorance
of mankind, and their errors and mistakes in
the search of it. Whence it happens, that,
as they all run in the wrong road, the faster
they advance, the farther they depart from
it ; and like those who ply the oars in a boat,
they look one way and move another. And
though it seemed almost unnecessary, as facts
sufficiently demonstrate the truth of our as-
sertion, yet, by a brief recapitulation, where-
in we took notice only of the principal heads
and classes of things, we proved that happi-
ness is by no means to be found in this earth,
nor in any earthly enjoyments whatsoever.
And this is no more than all, even fools as
well as wise men, are willing to own : they
not only pronounce one another unhappy, but,
with regard to this life, all of them in gen-
eral, and every one for himself in particular,
acknowledge that they are so. And, in this
respect, experience fully justify their relief;
so that, if there were no further prospect, I
am apt to believe all mankind would agree
in that common saying, that “if mankind
were apprized beforehand of the nature of
this life, and it were left to their own option,
none would accept of it.” As the immor-
tality of the soul has a near connexion with
this subject, and is a natural consequence
from it, we therefore, in the next place, be-
stowed some time in illustrating that doc-
trine. In the last place, we advanced some
thoughts upon future happiness and misery,
so far as is consistent with the weakness of
our capacities to comprehend things so little
known, and to express such as are in a great
measure ineffable.
Having treated of these things according to
* Vitam hanc, si scientibus daretur, neminem ac-
cepturum.—SENEcA.
our measure, it remains that we now inquire
about the way which directly leads into that
happy city, or to that happiness which is re-
served in the heavens. This is a great and
important article, comprehending the end and
design of our life, as well as the hopes and
comforts of it ; and is very proper to be first
treated of in a catechetical, or, indeed, any
methodical system of theology, as appears
from reason and precedents: for by this dis-
cussion we are immediately introduced into
the whole doctrine of true religion. Accord-
ingly, the first question in the generally-re-
ceived catechism, which you have in your
hands, is, “What is your only consolation in
life and death 2* And the first question of
another catechism, which not long ago was
used, particularly in this university, is, “What
is the only way to true felicity ?”f For the
salvation and happiness of mankind, in subor-
dination to the glory of God (which is, to be
sure, the supreme end of all), is the peculiar
and genuine scope of theology; and from it,
the definition of this science seems to be most
properly drawn. Nor do I imagine that any
one is so weak as hence to conclude that it
ought to be called anthropology, rather than
theology; for though it not only treats of the
happiness of mankind, but also has this hap-
piness, as has been observed, for its chief end
and design; yet, with good reason, and on
many accounts, it has obtained this more sub-
lime title. It has God for its author, whom
the wisest of men would in vain attempt to
find out, but from the revelation he has made
of himself; every such attempt being as vain
as it would be to look for the sun, in the night-
time, by the light of a candle; for the former,
like the latter, can only be seen by his own
light. God can not be known but so far as he
reveals himself: which Sophocles has also
admirably well expressed: “You will never,”
says he, “understand those divine things
which the gods have thought proper to con-
ceal, even though you should ransack all na-
ture.”f
Nor has this sacred science God for its au-
thor only, but also for its subject and its ulti-
mate end; because the knowledge of him and
his worship comprehends the whole of reli-
gion, the beatific vision of him includes in it
the whole of our happiness, and that happiness
is at last resolved into the Divine grace and
bounty.
I should therefore choose to give this brief
and clear definition of theology, viz.: That it
is a divine doctrine, directing man to real fe-
licity as his chief end, and conducting him to
it by the way of true religion. I call it a doc-
trine, because it is not considered here as a
habit in the mind, but as a summary of celes-
tial truth. I call it a divine doctrine, for all
the reasons already mentioned ; because, for
* Quae est unica tua consolatio in vita et in morte #
f Quae est unica ad veram felicitatem via ;
f AAA’ of Aáp dv rá 6sia kpārrovros 080i,
Má001; div, ató' #1 rāvr' emeščA60ts oxotów.
692
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
instance, it is from God, he is the subject of
it, and it all terminates in him at last. I call
it a doctrine directing man, for I confine my
notion of it to that doctrine only which was
sent down from heaven for that purpose.
What signify, then, those distinctions, which
are indeed sounding, but quite tedious and
foreign to the purpose, that divide theology
into archetypal and ectypal, and again into
the theology of the church militant, and that
of the church triumphant 2 What they call
archetypal theology is very improperly so
named, for it is that perfect knowledge (avro-
copia) which God has of himself. And the the-
ology of the church triumphant ought rather
to be called 0sopia, the beatific vision of God.
The theology in question is that day-spring
from on high, which hath visited us, to give
light to them which sit in darkness, and in the
shadow of death, to guide our feet in the way
of peace. Luke i. 78, 79. That peace is true
happiness, and the way of peace is true reli-
gion; concerning which I shall offer a few
thoughts, and very briefly. First of all, you
are to observe that man is not a lawless crea-
ture, but capable of a law, and actually sub-
ject to one. This expression conveys no harsh,
no dishonorable idea; nay, this subjection is
so far from being a burden, that it is the great-
est honor. To be capable of a law, is the
mark and ornament of an intelligent, rational
soul, and that which distinguishes it from the
brutes; it evidently supposes a resemblance
to God, and an intercourse with heaven. And
to live actually under the direction of religion
and the law, is the great honor and ornament
of human life, and that distinguishes it from
the irregular conduct of the brute creation.
For, as the poet expresses it, “One beast de-
yours another, fishes prey upon fishes, and
birds, upon birds, because they are subject to
no law; but mankind lives under a just law,
which makes their condition far preferable.”
The brute creatures devour one another
without blame, because they have no law ;
but, as Juvenal observes, “Men alone, of all
earthly creatures, as they derive their reason
from the highest heaven, are venerable for
their understanding, which renders, them ca:
pable of inquiring into Divine things, and
qualifies them for learning arts, and reducing
them to practice.”f
And hence it appears that we were born
subjects to religion and an eternal law of na-
ture; for since our blessed Creator has thought
proper to endow us with a mind and under-
standing and powers sufficient for that pur-
pose, to be sure we are bound by an indispen-
sable law to, acknowledge the primary and
* 'Ix6águ pºev kai 6mpoi, kai Ötovoi's rerenvots
'Eately ‘axXfiXovs, ºrei of Öiku early £r' avrots,
‘Avôpwrote, 6' 60xe ôikny à troXA6v ćptarm
Tiveral.
- - Venerabile soli
Sortiti ingeniuma divinorumque capaces,
Atque exercendis, capiendisque artibus apte
Sensum a coelesti demissum traximus arce.
JUVENAL, Sat. xv.
eternal Fountain of our own being and of all
created things, to love him above all other
objects, and obey his commands without re-
serve or exception. So that in this very law
of nature is founded a strong obligation upon
us to give due obedience to every Divine pos-
itive institution which he shall think proper
to add for securing the purposes of religion
and equity. Wherefore, when our first pa-
rents, by eating the forbidden fruit, trans-
gressed the symbolical command intended as
a proof of their obedience, by that very act
they most basely broke the primary and great
law of nature, which is the foundation of re-
ligion, and of every other law whatever.
It is not my intention to speak here of our
redemption by the Messias, the only begotten
Son of God the Creator : it is sufficient for our
present purpose to observe, that our great
Redeemer has indeed delivered us from the
chains of sin and death, but has by no means
dissolved the bonds of religion, and the ever-
lasting law of nature. Nay, these are, in
many respects, strengthened and confirmed
by this redemption: and a cheerful submis-
sion to them by virtue of his Spirit, who is
poured out upon us, is a great part of that
royal liberty of the sons of God, which is se-
cured to us by his means, as by imitating his
example, we arrive at the full possession of
it, which is reserved for us in the heavenly
kingdom. The way, therefore, to happiness,
which we are in search of, is true religion,
and such, in a very remarkable manner, is
that of Christianity.
On the truth and excellence of this religion
you have a great many learned writers, both
ancient and modern. And indeed, it is ex-
ceeding plain, from its own internal evidence,
that, of all the forms of religion that ever the
world saw, there is none more excellent than
that of Christianity, which we profess, where-
in we glory, and in which we think ourselves
happy amid all the troubles of the world :
there is none that is more certain and infalli-
ble, with regard to its history ; more sublime
with regard to its mysteries; more pure and
perfect in its precepts, or more venerable for
the grave simplicity of its rites and worship;
nay, it appears evident that this religion alone
is, in every respect, incomparably preferable
to every other. It remains, young gentlemen
—What do you think I am going to say? It
remains, that we become true Christians. I re-
peat it again, if we will be happy, let us be
Christians. You will say, “Your wish is ea-
sily satisfied: you have your desire—we are
all Christians already.” I wish it may be so
I will not, however, object to any particular
person on this head. But every one of you,
by a short trial, wherein he will be both wit-
ness and judge, may settle this important
point within himself. We are all Christians.
Be it so. But are we poor in spirit 2 Are
we humble, meek, and pure in heart 2 Do we
pray without ceasing 3 Have we nailed all
our carnal appetites and desires to our Sa-
HOLINESS OF LIFE THE ONLY HAPPINESS.
693
vior's cross, living no longer to ourselves, but
to him that died for us 2 This is the true
description of a Christian, by the testimony
of that gospel which we acknowledge to be
Christ's. And those who are entire stran-
gers to these dispositions of mind, know not,
to be sure, the way of peace. These I ear-
nestly entreat and beseech to rouse them-
selves, and shake off their indolence and
sloth, lest, by indulging the vile desires of
the flesh, they lose their souls for ever. But
if there are any among you, and, indeed, I
believe there are some, who with all their
hearts aspire to these Christian virtues, and
by their means, to that kingdom, which can
never be shaken, Be strong in the Lord, have
your loins girt about with truth, and be sober,
and hope to the end. You will never repent
of this holy warfare, where the battle is so
short, the victory so certain, and your tri-
umphal crown, and the peace procured by
this conflict, will last for ever.
LECTURE XIX.
THAT HOLINESS IS THE ONLY HAPPINESS ON
THIS EARTH.
THE journey we are engaged in is indeed
great, and the way up-hill; but the glorious
prize which is set before us is also great, and
our great and valiant Captain, who has long ago
ascended up on high, supplies us with strength.
If our courage at any time fails us, let us fix
our eyes upon him, and, according to the ad-
vice of the apostle, in his divine epistle to the
Hebrews (chap. xii. 2), Look unto Jesus, re-
moving our eyes from all inferior objects, that,
being carried up aloft, they may be fixed upon
him ; which the original words seem to im-
port. Then, being supported by the Spirit of
Christ, we shall overcome all those obstacles
in our way, that seem most difficult to our in-
dolent and effeminate flesh. And though the
way from the earth toward heaven is by no
means easy, yet even the very difficulty will
give us pleasure, when our hearts are thus
eagerly engaged, and powerfully support-
ed. Even difficulties and hardships are at-
tended with particular pleasure, when they
fall in the way of a courageous mind. As the
poet expresses it, “Serpents, thirst, and burn-
ing sand, are pleasing to virtue. Patience de-
lights in hardships; and honor, when it is
dearly purchased, is possessed with the great-
er satisfaction.”
If what we are told concerning that glori-
ous city, obtain credit with us, we shall
cheerfully travel toward it, nor shall we be
at all deterred by the difficulties that may be
in the way. But, however, as it is true, and
&
Serpens, sitis, ardor arenae
. Dulcia virtuti. Gaudet patientia duris:
Lºetius est quoties magno sibi constat honestum.
LUCAN, lib. ix., 9.
more suitable to the weakness of our minds,
which are rather apt to be affected with
things present and near, than such as are at
a great distance, we ought not to pass over in
silence that the way to the happiness reserv-
ed in heaven, which leads through this earth,
is not only agreeable because of the blessed
prospect it opens, and the glorious end to
which it conducts, but also for its own sake,
and on account of the innate pleasure to be
found in it, far preferable to any other way of
life that can be made choice of, or indeed im-
agined. Nay, that we may not, by low ex-
pressions, derogate from a matter so grand
and so conspicuous, that holiness and true re-
ligion which leads directly to the highest fe-
licity, is itself the only happiness, as far as it
can be enjoyed on this earth. Whatever mat-
urally tends to the attainment of any other
advantage, participates, in some measure, of
the nature of that advantage. Now the way
to perfect felicity, if anything can be so, is a
means that, in a very great measure, partici-
pates of the nature of its end ; nay, it is the
beginning of that happiness: it is also to be
considered as a part of it, and differs from it,
in its completest state, not so much in kind as
in degree. So that in Scripture it has the
same names: as, for instance, in that passage
of the evangelist, This is life eternal, that
they might know thee, the only true God.
John xvii. 3. That is, not only the way to
eternal life, but also the beginning and first
rudiments of it, seeing the same knowledge,
when completed, or the full beatific vision of
God, is eternal life in its fulness and perfec-
tion. Nor does the divine apostle make any
distinction between these two: Now, says he,
we see darkly through a glass ; but then we
shall see openly, or, as he expresses it, face to
face. Now I know in part ; but then I shall
Know as I also am known. I Cor. xiii. 12. That
celestial life is called an inheritance in light,
Col. i. 12; and the heirs of it, even while they
are sojourning in this earth, children of the
light, 1 Thess. v. 5; and, expressly, light in
the Lord. You were, says the apostle, some-
time darkness, but now are ye light in the
Lord. Eph. v. 8. They will be there perfect-
ly holy, and without spot; and even here they
are called holy, and, in some respect, they
are so. Hence it is, that those who are really
and truly good and pious, are, in Scripture,
often called blessed, though they are not fully
and perfectly so. Blessed is the man that fear-
eth the Lord. Psalm czii. 1. And blessed are
the undefiled in the way. Psalm crix. 1.
Even the philosophers give their testimony
to this truth ; and their sentiments, on this
subject, are not altogether to be rejected : for
they almost unanimously are agreed, that fe-
licity, so far as it can be enjoyed in this life,
consists solely, or at least principally, in vir-
tue. But, as to their assertion, that this vir-
tue is perfect in a perfect life, it is rather ex-
pressing what were to be wished, than de-
scribing things as they are. They might
694
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
have said with more truth and justice, that it
is imperfect in an imperfect life; which, no
doubt, would have satisfied them, if they had
known that it was to be made perfect in an-
other place, and another life, that truly de-
serves the name, and will be complete and
perfect. In this, however, we heartily agree
with them, that virtue, or, as we rather
choose to express it, piety, which is abso-
lutely the sum and substance of all virtues
and all wisdom, is the only happiness of this
life, so far as it is capable thereof.
And if we seriously consider this subject
but a little, we shall find the saying of the
wise king Solomon concerning this wisdom,
to be unexceptionably true: Her ways are ways
of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.
Doth religion require anything of us more
than that we live soberly, righteously, and
godly, in this present world 2 Now what, I
pray, can be more pleasant or peaceable than
these ? Temperance is always at leisure,
luxury always in a hurry : the latter weak-
ens the body and pollutes the soul; the for-
iner is the sanctity, purity, and sound state
of both. It is one of Epicurus's fixed max-
ims, that “life can never be pleasant without
virtue.” Wices seize upon men with the vi-
olence and rage of furies; but the Christian
virtues replenish the breast which they in-
habit, with a heavenly peace and abundant
joy, and thereby render it like that of an an-
gel. The slaves of pleasure and carnal af.
fections, have within them, even now, an
earnest of future torments; so that in this
present life, we may truly apply to them that
expression in the Revelations, They that wor-
ship the beast have no rest day nor night.
“There is perpetual peace with the humble,”
says the most devout à Kempis; “but the
proud and the covetous are never at rest.”f
If we speak of charity, which is the root
and spring of justice, what a lasting pleasure
does it diffuse through the soul! “Envy,”
as the saying is, “ has no days of festivity:”f
it enjoys not even its own advantages, while
it is tormented with those it sees in the pos-
session of others. But charity is happy, not
only in its own enjoyments, but also in those
of others, even as if they were its own : nay,
it is then most happy in the enjoyment of its
own good things, when, by liberality, it makes
them the property of others. In short, it is a
Godlike virtue.|| There is nothing more Di-
vine in man, “than to wish well to man, and
to do good to as many as one possibly can.”
But piety, which worships God in constant
prayer, and celebrates him with the highest
praises, raises man above himself, and gives
him rank among the angels. And contem-
* 'Avet àperis ovk sivat #6áos £iv.
f Jugis pax cum humili, superbus autem et avarus
nunquam quiescunt.
f Invidia festos dies non agit.
| "Aperil 6eo-cikeAos.
§ Omnibus bene velle, et quam plurimis possit ben-
efacere.
plation, which is indeed the most genuine and
purest pleasure of the human soul, and the
very summit of felicity, is nowhere so sub-
lime and enriched, as it will be found to be
in true religion, where it may expatiate in a
system of Divine truths most extensive, clear,
and infallibly certain, mysteries that are most
profound, and hopes that are the most exalt-
ed; and he that can render these subjects fa-
miliar to his mind, even on this earth, enjoys
a life replete with heavenly pleasure.
I might enlarge greatly on this subject,
and add a great many other considerations to
those I have already offered; but I shall only
further observe, that that sweet virtue of con-
tentment, so effectual for quieting the mind,
which philosophy sought for in vain, religion
alone has found; and also discovered, that it
takes its rise from a firm confidence in the al-
mighty power of Divine Providence. For
what is there that can possibly give uneasi-
ness to him who commits himself entirely to
that Paternal Goodness and Wisdom, which
he knows to be infinite, and securely devolves
the care of all his concerns upon it.
If any of you object (what has been ob-
served before), that we often see good men
meet with severe treatment, and also read
that many are the afflictions of the just ; I
answer, do you not also read what imme-
diately follows? But the Lord delivereth him
out of them all. Psalm xxxiv. 19. And it
would be madness to deny, that this more
than compensates the other. But neither are
the wicked quite exempted from the misfor-
tunes and calamities of life; and when they
fall upon them, they have nothing to support
them under such pressures, none to extricate
or deliver them.
But a true Christian, encouraged by a good
conscience, and depending upon the Divine
favor, bears with patience all these evils, by
the efforts of generous love and unshaken
faith: they all seem light to him ; he despi-
ses what he suffers, while he waits with pa-
tience for the object of his hope. And, in-
deed, what, either in life or in death, can he
be afraid of, whose life is hid with Christ in
God; and of whom it may be justly said,
without exaggeration, “If the world should
be crushed and broken to pieces, he would be
undaunted, even while the ruins fell upon his
head 2*
*-
LECTURE XX.
OUR HAPPINESS, PARTICULARLY THAT IT LIES
IN GOD, WHO ALONE CAN DIRECT US TO THE
TRUE WAY OF ATTAINING TO IT : THAT THIS
WAY HE HAS DISCOVERED IN THE SACRED
SCRIPTURES, THE DIVINE AUTHORITY WHERE-
OF IS ASSERTED AND ILLUSTRATED.
THESE two expressions, that “there is a be-
ginning, and that there is also an end,”f con-
* Si fractus illabatur orbis, *
Impavidum ferient ruinae.—HoR., lib. iii., Od. 3.
f 'Eariv špa ris dipxi, kai čariv apa ri réAos.
OUR HAPPINESS IN GOD.
695
vey matters great in themselves, and which
ought to be considered as of vast importance
to us. It is absolutely necessary that there
should be some one Principle of all things;
and by an equal degree of necessity, this
Principle must be, of all others, the greatest
and the best. It is also necessary that He
who gave being to all things, must have pro-
posed to himself some end to be attained by
the production and disposal of them ; but, as
the end of the Best of all agents must itself
also be the highest and the best, this end can
be no other than himself. And the reason-
ings of the author of the epistle to the He-
brews, concerning the oath of God, may also
be applied to this case: As he had no great-
er to swear by, says the apostle, he swore by
HIMSELF. In like manner, as he had no greater
or better end to propose, he proposed HIMSELF.
He hath mude all things for himself, says the
author of the book of Proverbs, even the wick-
ed for the day of evil. Prov. xvi. 4. And the
apostle Paul, in his epistle to the Romans,
gives us a lively description of that incom-
parable circle, the most complete of all fig-
ures: Of him, and through him, and to him,
are all things, to whom be glory for ever,
Amen. Rom. x. 36.
Now man, the ornament and masterpiece
of all the visible creation, by extraordinary
art, and in a method peculiar to himself, re-
turns to his first Original, and has his Crea-
tor, not only for the principle of his being,
and of his well-being, but also for his end.
Thus, by a wonderful instance of wisdom and
goodness, God has so connected his own glo-
ry with our happiness, that we can not prop-
erly intend or desire the one, but the other
must follow of course, and our felicity is at
last resolved into his eternal glory. The oth-
er works of God serve to promote his honor;
but man, by rational knowledge and will, of.
fers himself, and all that he has, as a sacri-
fice to his Creator. From his knowledge of
him, he is induced to love him; and in con-
sequence of his love, he attains at last to the
enjoyment of him. And it is the wisdom, as
well as the happiness of man, to propose to
himself, as the scope and ultimate end of his
life, that very thing which his exalted Crea-
tor had proposed before.
But, that we may proceed gradually in our
speculations upon this subject, we must first
conclude, that there is a proper end intended
for man ; that this end is suited to his nature,
and perfectly accommodated to all his wants
and desires; that so the principal part of
this wonderful fabric may not be quite ir-
regular, and labor under a manifest imper-
fection.
Nor can there be a more important specu-
lation, nor one more worthy of man, than that
which concerns his own end, and that good
which is fully and perfectly suited to his cir-
cumstances. Chance of fortune must, of ne-
cessity, have a great influence in our life,
When we live at random; we must, there.
fore, if we be wise, or rather that we may be
wise, propose to ourselves an end, to which
all our actions ought to have a reference, and
by which, as a certain fixed star, we are to
direct our course. But it is surprising to ob-
serve, how much all the wisest men among
the heathens were perplexed in their inqui-
ries after this end, and into how many differ-
ent opinions they were divided about it. Of
this, however, we have spoken at greater
length in another place.
Now, to be brief, it is necessary, that this
good, or end, should be “perfectly suitable,
not easily taken away, nay, such as we can
by no means be deprived of; and finally, it
must consist of such things as have a partic-
ular relation to the soul, and not of eternal
enjoyments.” Whence “slavish and brutal
pleasures,”f vain and perishing honors and
riches, which only serve to support and pro-
mote the former, are in this inquiry, justly,
and without the least hesitation, hissed off
the stage by all sound philosophers; who with
great unanimity acknowledge, that our feli-
city consists solely, or at least principally, in
virtue. But your favorite philosopher, Aris-
totle, and the peripatetics who are his follow-
ers, seem to doubt whether virtue alone be
sufficient for this purpose, and not to be very
consistent with themselves. The stoics, who
proceeded with greater courage, and acted
more like men, affirmed, that virtue was fully
sufficient for this purpose, without the helps
and supplements required by the former. And
that, while they bestowed such high praises
on virtue, they might not seem to have quite
forgotten God, they not only said, that virtue
was something Divine, in which they were
joined by Aristotle, but also concluded, that
their wise man did all things “ with a direct
reference to God.”f It was also a general
maxim with the followers of Plato, that “the
end of man is, to be, as far as is possible,
made like unto God.”| And Plato himself,
in his second book of laws, and in his Phaedo,
asserts, that man's chief good is the knowl-
edge of the truth : yet, as this, knowledge is
not perfect in the present life, he is of opin-
ion, that it can scarcely be said of any man,
that he is happy here below ; but there is
hope to be entertained concerning the dead,
provided they are purified before they leave
the world. But there are two things particu-
larly, with regard to this question, which our
religion and most precious faith teaches with
incomparably greater fulness and evidence,
than all the schools and books of the philoso-
phers.
1. That our felicity is not to terminate in
ourselves, but in God. Blessed is the man
that feareth the Lord ; and, The pure in
heart shall see God. Psalm crii. 1; Matt. V. 8.
f TeXetov, kai dwrapkšs, kai ºvoaçáºperov, imo dva-
daíperov, kai rov repi puxās, kai of row Exros.
f'Avěpanoë6östs kai 0notáðets høovat-
f Mer' dyapopäs its rov Geów.
| TáXos av0póſtov buotajous 6eó kara ro Gövarov.
696
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
“To seek God,” says St. Augustine, “is to
desire happiness; and to find him is that hap-
piness.”
2. That our happiness is not confined within
the limits of this short life, nor does it end
with it : on the contrary, it is scarce begun
in this world, but when the present life comes
to a period, then this happiness is completed
and becomes eternal. Our life on this earth,
therefore, is only so far happy as it has a re-
semblance to that we shall enjoy in heaven,
and becomes, as it were, an earnest of it:
that is, when it is employed in pure and sin-
cere piety, in obedience to the will of God,
and an ambition to promote his glory, till we
arrive at that happy state, where our hunger
and thirst shall be abundantly satisfied, and
yet our appetites never cloyed.
For it is evident, that man, in this life, be-
comes so much the more perfect and happy,
in proportion as he has his mind and affections
more thoroughly conformed to the pattern of
that most blessed and perfect life. And this
is, indeed, the great ambition of a true Chris-
tian ; this is his study, which he ceases not
to pursue with ardor day and night: nor does
he let so much as one day pass without copy-
ing some lines of that perfect pattern. And
the more he advances in purity of mind, the
greater progress he makes in the knowledge
and contemplation of Divine things.
But who will instruct us with regard to the
means of reaching this blessed mark 2 Who
will show us how we may attain this con-
formity to God, and most effectually promote
his honorand glory, so that at last wenay come
to the enjoyment of him in that endless life,
and be for ever satisfied with the beatific vis-
ion of him 2 What faithful guide shall we
find to direct us in this way ? Surely he him-
self must be our leader: there is no other
besides him who can answer our purpose. It
is he alone that acquaints us with his own
nature, as far as it is necessary for us to know
it; and he alone that directs us to the way
wherein he chooses to be worshipped. “God
can not be known but by his own revelation of
himself.”f When he is pleased to wrap him-
self up in a cloud, neither man in his original
integrity, nay, nor even the angels, can know
or investigate his nature or his intentions.
We are indeed acquainted in the sacred rec-
ords, That the heavens declare the glory of
God (Psalm xix. 1); and this, to be sure, is
very true in certain respects; but they do by
no means declare the hidden mysteries of the
Creator, nor his intentions, and the manner
of that worship and service he requires from
his reasonable creatures. And therefore the
psalmist, having begun the psalm with the
voice and declaration of the heavens, imme-
diately after mentions another light much
clearer than the sun himself, and a volume or
* Secutio Dei appetitus beatitatis, consecutio beat-
itas.
f Non potest Deus, nisi de Deo, intelligi.
book more perfect than the language of al.
the spheres. Nothing is more certain than
that the doctrine which leads us to God, must
take its rise from him : for, by no art what-
ever can the waters be made to rise higher
than their fountain. It was therefore abso-
lutely necessary for the purpose I have men-
tioned, that some revelation concerning God
should be made to mankind by himself: and,
accordingly, he did reveal himself to them from
the beginning. And these revelations, the
father of lies mimicked by those delusions of
his, that were published by the heathen ora-
cles. The Divine wisdom, in revealing him-
self to mankind, has thought proper, at differ-
ent periods of time, to make use of different
methods and ways, or, according to that of
the Epistle to the Hebrews, at sundry times,
and in divers manners ; but at last it seemed
good to him, that this sacred doctrine should
be committed to writing, that with the greater
certainty and purity it might be handed down
to succeeding ages. If we consider his abso-
lute power, it would certainly have been as
easy for him to have preserved this doctrine
pure and entire, without committing it to
writing ; but, for the most part, he has been
pleased to make use of means naturally suited
and adapted to his purpose, and disposes all
things so as effectually to secure his ends,
yet, in an easy natural manner, suited to our
capacities and conceptions of things.
If any one would prove, that these books,
which we receive as such, are in fact the
repositories of this sacred and celestial doc-
trine, the most proper method he could take,
would be first to show that the sacred history
and doctrines contained in them, are true ;
and then from their own testimony to conclude
them Divine.
For, the truth of our religion being once
well established, it is, to be sure, a most just
postulatum, and such as ought not to be denied
to any sect of men, that in this instance, the
testimony of the Christian church should be
believed, when it points out the books where-
in the sum and substance of that religion are
originally and authentically deposited.
The truth of the sacred history being once
granted, the Divinity of the doctrine will na-
turally follow of course, as the history men-
tions so many and so great miracles that were
wrought in confirmation of the doctrine: those
particularly that were performed in proof of
the Old Testament by Moses, the servant of
God, by whose ministry the law was given to
the Jews; and those that were wrought in
confirmation of the New, by Jesus Christ, the
only begotten Son of God, and author of the
Evangelic Law ; as, also, those that were
wrought by his servants the aposiles, and
other Christians. And absolutely to deny the
force of all these, would be an instance of
impudence and obstinacy so great, that the
keenest enemies of the Christian name of old,
did not venture upon it. But the Scriptures
have two great evidences of their Divinity,+
OUR HAPPINESS IN GOD.
697
their own internal charactèr, and that external
testimony.
There are two things which principally
prove their external character. 1. The in-
comparable sublimity and purity of the doc-
trine they contain: for in vain will you look
for such profound mysteries, and such pure
and holy precepts, anywhere else. 2. The
inimitable and evidently Divine majesty of
the style, attended, at the same time, with a
surprising and wonderful simplicity. Their
voice is not the voice of man ; but the whole
of them, notwithstanding their great extent,
sounds something more grand than can be ex-
pected from the mouths of mortal men. Nor
ought we to pass over that Divine efficacy
which the Scriptures have not only to move
the minds of men, but also, by a Divine oper-
ation,” to change them into something quite
different from what they were before: accord-
ing to that of Lactantius, “Give me a fierce,
cruel, and passionate man, with a few of the
words of God I will make him as meek as a
lamb,” &c.f And the external testimony
already mentioned, has, to be sure, as much
weight as anything of that kind can possibly
have. Who would deny to the regular suc-
cession of the catholic church, the credit of
a witness? Who, on the other hand, would
claim the authority of a judge and arbitrator 2
It would be quite silly to ascribe to the church
a decisive power; as if, when a book were
first presented to it, or brought out of any
place where it had been long concealed, it
could immediately pronounce whether that
book was of Divine authority or not. The
church is only a witness with regard to those
books we acknowledge ; and its testimony
extends no further than this, that they were
received in the first ages of Christianity, as
sacred and Divinely inspired, and, as such,
handed down from age to age, to the church
that now is. And he that would venture to
discredit this testimony, must have a heart
of lead and a face of brass.
There is no occasion to dispute so fiercely
about the inward testimony of the Holy Ghost:
for I am persuaded that those who talk about
it, understand nothing more by it, than that
the Holy Spirit produces in the hearts of men
that faith whereby they cheerfully and sin-
cerely receive these books, and the doctrine
contained in them, as Divine: because such a
faith either includes, in the very notion of it,
or at least is necessarily connected with, a re-
ligious frame of mind, and a sincere disposi-
tion to universal obedience. And he that be-
lieveth, as the Apostle John expresseth it, has
this testimony in himself, though he can not
convey, or transfer it to others, 1 John v. 10.
Now, to assert the necessity of such an inter-
mal testimony, is nothing more than to say,
that whatever evidence the Scripture may
have it itself, or from other considerations,
yet, the Divine faith of this truth must be from
* Osovoyā perapoppéret.
f Da mihi fºrum, &c., ut supra.
above. And he that would deny this, would
thereby plainly discover that he was an en-
tire stranger to that faith itself. “The Scrip-
ture,” says Thomas à Kempis, “must surely
be believed and understood, by means of the
same Spirit by whom it was at first deliver-
ed.” And, as St. Augustine expresses it,
“the only effectual teacher is he who has
his chair in heaven, and yet, instructs the
hearts of men on this earth.”f The same
Divine Spirit plants faith in the mind, together
with the proper intelligence of Divine things,
and daily augments and improves these dis-
positions. This great gift of the Spirit is,
therefore, to be sought by fervent and constant
prayer ; and the Son of God, who is truth
itself, has assured us, that his most bountiful
Father will give it to those that ask him.
Aristotle has told us, that “ Divine inspira-
tion is to be sought by sacrifices.”f And it
is no less true, that “the faith and understand-
ing of things revealed by Divine inspiration,
are to be sought by prayer.”|| Varro tells us,
that he wrote first of human, and then of
Divine institutions, because societies of men
existed first, and the latter were instituted by
them. True religion, on the contrary, instead
of being instituted by any city or society on
earth, hath instituted a city altogether heav-
enly and Divine, and is itself inspired by God,
who is the giver of eternal life, to all that
worship him in sincerity."
It is truly surprising to observe how differ-
ently this religion was of old received among
men, and what different entertainment it meets
with even to this day, though the doctrine has
been always the same, though it is still en-
forced by the same arguments, and has the
same difficulties and prejudices to struggle
with. When the divine apostle preached in
the Areopages at Athens, a great many mock-
ed and ridiculed him : others said, We will
hear thee again of this matter: but certain
men clave unto him, and believed. Acts xvii.
32, 34. And that we may not think this
faith, in those who believed, was owing to
their uncommon penetration or sagacity on
the One hand, or to their weakness and sim-
plicity on the other, of the two mentioned in
Scripture, who believed on this occasion, the
One was a philosopher, and the other a wo-
man. Now, though, without doubt, human
liberty is to be allowed its due weight in this
matter, yet, we can not help acknowledging,
that a certain influence or energy'ſ seems to
discover itself here.
The basis of religion is faith,-just appre-
hension or right notions** of God, according
to Epictetus. St. Ignatius says, “Faith is the
“Eodem certe spiritu et credenda et intelligenda
Sacra scriptura, quo tradita est.
f Qui cathedram habet in coelo, corde docet in terris.
f Tö 686 rvevgrow rats Övotals £ntmtéov.
| Tºv táv Ósotvºgrov triarw kai gºveow ºxats &nrn-
T&01/e
§ St. Aug. de Civ. Dei, lib. vi., c. 3.
$ 6etav rivă poipaw vel ivºpysiav.
* 'Op?ai útroXàpets.
88
698
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
beginning of life, and love the end of it.”
And the words of the apostle are, He that
cometh to God, must believe that he is, and
that he is a rewarder of them that diligently
seek him. So that the giving of a law to man,
and the enforcing it with the motives of re-
wards and punishments, is not inconsistent
with the filial and disinterested obedience of
a rational creature, even in a state of inno-
CeIRCe.
All true and lively faith begets love; and
thus, that heavenly light is the vehicle of heat.
And as, by this means, true faith has a ten-
dency to the practice of obedience, so, all true
obedience depends upon faith, and flows from
it. But it also proceeds from love, because
faith first produces love, and then works by
it. All knowledge of mysteries is vain and
of no value, unless it have an influence upon
the affections, and thereby, upon the whole
conduct of life. The luminaries of heaven
are placed on high ; but they are so placed,
that they may shine, and perform their periods,
for the benefit of this earth. Gen. i. 17.
We must first believe, that God is. This
truth is written in capital letters on every
page of the sacred books of Scripture; for all
things that are therein delivered by God, and
concerning him, confirm this, and take it for
a primary and undoubted principle. But
these sacred books acknowledge another uni-
versal evidence of this leading truth, and an
evidence quite distinct from theirs, to which
they refer all, even the most obstinate unbe-
lievers and those that are entirely ignorant
of this celestial doctrine, for full conviction.
Rom. i. 20. As it is quite plain, that the tes-
timony of the written word will have little
or no influence upon men who have not re-
ceived the least tincture of Divine faith,
should any person, disputing with then, rea-
son after this manner—There is a God, be-
cause this is asserted in the sacred Scrip-
tures, and their testimony must by all means
be believed, because they are the word of
God;—an argument of this kind, to be sure,
would have no other effect than to expose the
person who urged it, to the ridicule of athe-
ists and unbelievers; because it evidently
begs the question, and runs into a vicious cir-
cle. He, therefore, who would bring over
such persons to the faith, must reason after
a quite different manner. But let him, on
the other hand, who once accepts these
books with the submission due to their real
dignity and Divine authenticity, receive light
and edification from them on every article of
faith, and with regard to the whole system
of religion in general. Let him, also, in
congratulation to their exalted Author, cry
out, With thee, O Lord, is the fountain of
life; and in thy light we shall see light. Psa.
xxvi. 9. And let him that desires to be, not
only a nominal proficient in theology, but
qux66eos kai 6eočíð akros—a real lover of God, and
willing to be taught by him, resolve within
* 'Apxi, Soñs triarts, réAos 6é myarí.
himself, above all things, to make this sacred
volume his constant study, mixing his read-
ing with frequent and fervent prayer: for if
this be omitted, his labor will be altogethel
in vain, supposing him to be ever so well
versed, not only in these books, but also to
have all the advantages that can be had from
the knowledge of languages, and the assist-
ance of commentators and interpreters. Dif-
ferent men have different views in reading
this book. As, in the same field, the Ox looks
for grass, the hound for a hare, and the stork
for a lizard, some fond of critical remarks,
pick up nothing but little stones and shells ;
others run in pursuit of sublime mysteries,
giving themselves but very little trouble
about the precepts and instructions that are
clear and evident, and these plunge them-
selves into a pit that has no bottom. But the
genuine disciples of this true wisdom, are
those who make it their daily employment,
to purify their hearts by the water of those
fountains, and reduce their whole lives to a
conformity with this heavenly doctrine. They
desire not to know these things, only that
they may have the reputation of knowledge,
or to be distinguished in the world ; but that
their souls may be healed, and their steps di-
rected, so that they may be led through the
paths of righteousness, to the glorious feli-
city which is set before them.
The sum of all is, that our felicity lies
solely and entirely in that blessed God, who
is also the fountain and source of our being ;
that the only means of our union with him,
is true religion; and this, again, consists in
our entertaining just notions of God, worship-
ping him acceptably, and endeavoring after
a constant and unwearied obedience to all his
commands, according to that most pure and
perfect rule laid down in those Divine books
which we profess to receive as such. Let
us, therefore, have constantly fixed in our
minds these words of the psalmist, Blessed
are the undefiled in the way, that walk in the
way of the Lord. Thou hast commanded us
to keep thy precepts diligently. O ! that my
ways were directed to keep thy statutes. Ps.
cxix. 1–4, 5. -
LECTURE XXI.
THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES.
OF all the maxims that are naturally writ-
ten on the heart of man, there is none more
certain or more universally known, than
THAT GOD is ; concerning which I have giv-
en a dissertation some time ago. But of all
the secrets and hidden things of mature,
which have been the subject of human study
and inquiry, there is nothing, by a prodigious
odds, so difficult or unsearchable, as to know
whAT HE Is. The saying of St. Augustine
concerning time is well known in the schools;
THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES.
699
with how much greater truth might it be
said of Him, who is more ancient than time,
and “who bade time flow from the begin-
ning,” That he hath made darkness his hi-
ding-place, and amidst that darkness dwells in
light inaccessible. Psalm xviii. 11. Which,
to our eyes, is to be sure more dark than
darkness itself. “O the Divine darkness '''
says a great man ;f and another, most
acutely, “If you divide or cut asunder this
darkness, who will shine forth 2’’; When,
therefore, we are to speak of him, let us al-
ways call to remembrance the admonition
which bids us speak with reverence and fear.
For what can we say that is worthy of him,
since man, when he speaks of God, is but a
blind person describing light ! Yet, blind as
we are, there is one thing we may, with
great truth, say of that glorious light, and
let us frequently repeat it: O when will that
blessed day shine forth, which shall deliver
the soul from those thick integuments of
flesh, that like scales on the eye, obstruct its
sight, and shall introduce it into a more full
and open view of that primitive, and eternal
Ilight ! Perhaps, the properest answer we
could give to the question, What is God 2
would be to observe a most profound silence;
or, if we should think proper to give any an-
swer it ought to be something next to this
absolute silence : viz. GoD is ; which gives
us a higher and better idea of him, than any
thing we can either express or conceive.
Theological writers mention three meth-
ods whereby men come to some kind of
knowledge of God themselves, and commu-
nicate that knowledge to others, viz., the way
of negation, the way of causation, and the
way of eminence. Yet the very terms that
are used to express these ways, show what
a faint knowledge of the invisible Being is
to be attained by them; so that the last two
may be justly reduced to the first, and all our
knowledge of this kind called negative. For,
to pretend to give any explanation of the Di-
vine essence as distinct from what we call
his attributes, would be a refinement so ab-
surd, that under the appearance of more ac-
curate knowledge, it would betray our igno-
rance the more. And so unaccountable would
it be to attempt any such thing, with regard
to the unsearchable majesty of God, that pos-
sibly the most towering and exalted genius
On earth ought frankly to acknowledge, that
we know neither our own essence, nor that
of any other creature, even the meanest and
most contemptible. Though, in the schools,
they distinguish the Divine attributes or ex-
cellencies, and that by no means improperly,
into communicable and incommunicable; yet
We ought so to guard this distinction, as al-
Ways to remember that those which are called
communicable, when applied to God, are not
* — Qui tempus ab avo
Ire jubet. BoETH. Cons. Phil., lib. iii., met. 9.
f “$2 Tā 9siovakóros.
f "Av rô oxéros réuvn, 6 ris àvagrgårrerat.
only to be understood in a manner incommuni-
cable and quite peculiar to himself, but also,
that in him they are, in reality, infinitely dif-
ferent from those virtues, or rather, in a mat-
ter where the disparity of the subjects is so
very great, those shadows of virtues that go
under the same name either in men or an-
gels. For it is not only true, that all things,
in the infinite and eternal Being, are infinite
and eternal, but they are also, though in a
manner quite inexpressible, HIMSELF. He is
good without quality, great without quanti-
ty, &c. He is good in such a sense as to be
called by the evangelist, the only good Be-
ing, Matt. xix. 17. He is also the only wise
Being: To the only wise God, saith the apos-
tle. 1 Tim. i. 17. And the same apostle tells
us, in another place, that he only hath im-
mortality ; 1 Tim. vi. 16, that is, from his
own nature, and not from the will or dispo-
sition of another. “If we are considered as
joined to, or united with God,” says an an-
cient writer of great note, “we have a be-
ing, we live, and in some sort are wise; but
if we are compared with God, we have no
wisdom at all, nor do we live, or so much
as have any existence.” All other things
were by him brought out of nothing, in con-
sequence of a free act of his will, by means
of his infinite power; so that they may be
justly called mere contingencies, and he is the
only necessarily existent Being. Nay, he is
the only really eatistent Being ; ro èvros dy; or
as Plontinus expresses, tº irspävros 6v. Thus,
also, the Septuagint speaks of him as the
only existent Being, 6 &v. And so also does
the heathen poet.f. This is likewise implied,
in the exalted name Jehovah, which expres-
ses his being, and that he has it from him-
self; but what that being is, or wherein its
essence, so to speak, consists, it does not say:
nor if it did, could we at all conceive it. Nay,
So far is that name from discovering what his
being is, that it plainly insinuates that his
existence is hid and covered with a veil. I
am who I am : or, I am what I am. As if he
had said, I myself know what I am, but you
neither know nor can know it; and if I
should declare wherein my being consists,
you could not conceive it. He has, however,
manifested in his works and in his word,
what it is our interest to know, that he is
the Lord God, merciful and gracious, abun-
dant in goodness and truth.
We call him a most pure Spirit, and mean
to say, that he is of a nature entirely incor-
poreal : yet, this word, in the Greek, and
Hebrew, and all other languages, accord-
ing to its primitive and natural signification,
conveys no other idea than that of a gentle
gale, or wind, which every one knows to be
a body, though rarefied to a very great de-
gree: So that, when we speak of that Infinite
* Deo si conjungimur, sumus, vivimus, sapimus;
Deo si comparamur, nec sapimus omnino, nec vivi.
mus, imo nec sumus. GREG. MAG. MoR.
f Oööe ris Šab’ repos xopis peyáAov 3agºños.
*00
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
Purity, all words fail us; and even when we
think of it, all the refinements of the acutest
understanding are quite at a stand, and be-
come entirely useless. It is, in every respect,
as necessary to acknowledge his eternity as
his being ; provided that, when we mention
the term, God, we mean by it the First Being,
supposing that expression to include also his
self-existence. This idea of a First and eter-
mal Being is again inseparably connected
with an infinite degree of all possible perfec-
tion, together with immutability, and abso-
lute perseverance therein. But all these are
treated of, at great length, in theological
books, whereof you have a very large collec-
tlon.
In like manner, if we suppose God to be the
first of all Beings, we must unavoidably there-
from conclude his unity. As to the ineffable
Trinity subsisting in this Unity, a mystery
discovered only by the sacred Scriptures, es-
pecially in the New Testament, where it is
more clearly revealed than in the Old, let
others boldly pry into it, if they please, while
We receive it with an humble faith, and think
it sufficient for us to admire and adore.
The other attributes that used to be men-
tioned on this subject may be supposed to be
perfectly comprehended under the following
three, viz., power, wisdom, and goodness: for
holiness, justice, mercy, infinite bounty, &c.,
may be, with great propriety, ranked under
the general term of goodness.
But rather than insist upon metaphysi-
cal speculations, let us, while we walk daily
in these pleasant fields, be constantly culling
fresh and never-fading flowers. “When the
psalmist cries out, Great is the Lord and
greatly to be praised, and of his greatness
there is no end, he wanted to show,” saith St.
Augustine, “how great he is. But how can
this be done 2 Though he repeated, Great,
Great, the whole day, it would have been to
little purpose, for he must have ended at last,
because the day would have ended ; but his
greatness was before the beginning of days,
and will reach beyond the end of time.”
The poet expresses himself admirably well:
“I will praise thee, O blessed God, with my
voice, I will praise thee also, with silence.
For thou, O inexpressible Father, who canst
never be known, understandest the silence of
the mind, as well as any words or expres-
sions.”f
* Volebat dicere quam magnus sit, sed hoc quifie-
ri potest ? Etsi tota die magnum dicerit, parum es-
set, finiret enim aliquando, quia, finiretur dies; mag-
nitudo autem illius ante dies, et ultra dies.
**Yuvá ce uákap,
Kai Öua povăs.
*Yuvá at Hákap,
Kai Öua guyás.
"Oga yap povăs
Tága kat a tyás,
'Atets voepus.
TIárep #yvoore,
ſlárep #fffin re.—SYN. HYMNo., 4to.
LECTURE XXII.
HOW TO REGULATE LIFE ACCORDING TO THE
RULES OF RELIGION.
I HAVE now, at different times, addressed
myself to you upon several subjects of great
importance, and of the utmost necessity ;
though what I have hitherto said, was only
designed as a preface or introduction to what
I further proposed. But to attempt to prose-
cute this design at the very end of the year,
would be quite improper, and to little or no
purpose : I shall, therefore, altogether for-
bear entering upon it, and for this time, lay
before you a few advices, which may be use-
ful, not only in order to employ to greater ad-
vantage the months of vacation that are now
at hand, but also the better to regulate your
whole lives.
And my first advice shall be, to avoid too
'much sleep, which wastes the morning hours,
that are most proper for study, as well as for
the exercises of religion, and stupefies and
enervates the strength of body and mind. I
remember that the famous abbot of Clairvaux,
Bernard, when he found the friars sleeping
immoderately, used to say, that “they slept
like the secular clergy.” And though we
do not admit of the severe rules to which the
monks subjected themselves, we must at
least allow, that the measure and degree of
sleep and other bodily refreshments, suitable
for a young man devoted to study and devo-
tion, is very far different from that excess in
which the common sort of mankind indulge
themselves.
Another advice, which is akin to, and near-
ly connected with, the former, shall be, to
observe temperance in eating and drinking.
For moderation in sleeping, generally follows
sobriety in eating and other sensual gratifica-
tions; but that thick cloud of vapors that aris-
es from a full stomach must of necessity over-
whelm all the animal spirits, and keep them
long locked up in an indolent, inactive state.
Therefore, the Greeks, not without reason,
express these two duties, to be sober and to
be watchful, indifferently by the same term.
And the Apostle Peter, that he might make
this connexion more evident, uses, indeed,
two words for this purpose; but exhorts to
these duties as closely connected together,
or rather, as if they were, in some respect,
but one, Be sober, be vigilant. 1 Pet. v. 8.
And in the same epistle, having substituted
another word for sobriety, he expresses watch-
fulness by the same word he had put for so-
briety in the other place [Nápare]: Be sober
and watch. 1 Pet. iv. 7. Both these disposi-
tions are so applied to the mind, as to in-
clude a sober and watchful state of the body
and senses; as this is exceeding useful, nay,
quite necessary, in order to a correspondent
frame of the mind, and that disposition both
* Seculariter dormire
A RELIGIOUS LIFE.
701
of body and mind, not only subservient, but
also necessary to piety and constancy in pray-
er: , Be sober and watch unto prayer. 1 Pe-
ter, iv. 7.
When the body is reduced to its lightest
and most active state, still, as it is corrupti-
ble, it is, to be sure, a burden to the mind.
How much more must it be so, when it is de-
pressed with an immoderate load of meat and
drink, and, in consequence of this, of sleep !
Nor can the mind rouse itself, or use the
wings of contemplation and prayer with free-
dom, when it is overpowered with so heavy a
load : nay, neither can it make any remarka-
ble progress in the study of human literature,
but will move slowly and embarrassed, be at
a stand, like a wheel-carriage in deep clay.
The Greeks very justly expressed the virtue
we are now recommending, by the term
Xoºgoodvn, it being, as your favorite philoso-
pher, Aristotle, observes in his Ethics, the
great preservative of the mind. He is cer-
tainly a very great enemy to his own under-
standing, who lives high and indulges him-
self in luxury. “A fat belly is seldom ac-
companied with an acute understanding.”
Nor is it my intention in this, only to warn
you against drunkenness and luxury; I would
willingly hope that such an advice would be
Superfluous to you : but, in this conflict, I
would willingly carry you to such a pitch of
victory, that, at your ordinary and least deli-
cious meals, you would always stop some de-
grees within the bounds to which your appe-
tite would carry you. Consider that, as Cato
said, “the belly has no ears;”f but it has a
mouth, into which a bridle must be put, and
therefore I address not myself to it, but to the
directing mind that is set over it, which, for
that reason, ought to govern the body with
all its senses, and curb them at its pleasure.
St. Bernard's words are admirable to this pur-
pose. “A prudent mind devoted to God,
ought so to act in its body, as the master of
a family in his own house. He ought not to
suffer his flesh to be, as Solomon expresses it,
like a brawling woman, nor any carnal appe-
tite to act like a rebellious servant; but to
inure them to obedience and patience. He
must not have his senses for his guides, but
bring them into subjection and subserviency
to reason and religion. He must, by all
means, have his house and family so ordered
and well disciplined, that he can say to one,
Go, and he goeth, and to another, Come, and
he cometh, and to his servant the body, Do
this, and it doeth what it is bid without mur-
muring. The body must also be treated with
a little hardship, that it may not be disobedi-
ent to the mind.”f For he, saith Solomon,
* TIaxeta Xagrip ynirröy of rikret v6ow-
f Wentrem non habere aures.
Sic prudens et Deo dicatus animus habere se de-
bet in corpore suo, sicut pater-familias in domo sua.
Non habeat, sicut Solomon dicit, mulierem litigiosam
carnem suam, nec ullum appetitum carnis ut servum
rebellum, sedad obedientiam et patientiam assuefac-
tum. Habeat sensus suos non duces, sed rationi et
that delicately bringeth up his servant from a
child, shall have him become a (rebellious) son
at last. Prov. xxix. 21. This is what I
would have you aspire to, a conquest over
your flesh, and all its lusts; for they carry
on a deadly war against your souls, and their
desires are then most to be resisted, when
they flatter most. What an unhappy and
dishonorable inversion of nature is it, when
the flesh commands, and the mind is in sub-
jection; when the flesh, which is vile, gross,
earthly, and soon to be the food of worms,
governs the soul, that is the breath of God
Another thing I would have you beware of,
is, immoderate speech. The evils of the tongue
are many : but the shortest way to find a way
for them all, is, to study silence, and avoid,
as the poet expressés it, “excessive prating,
and a vast desire of speaking.”
He is a perfect man, as the Apostle James
expresses it, who offends not in word. James
iii.2. And therefore, doubtless, he that speaks
least, offends in this respect more rarely. But,
in the multitude of words, as the wise man
observes, there wants not sin. Proverbs X. 19.
To speak much, and also to the purpose, sel-
dom falls to the share of One man.f Now,
that we may avoid loquacity, we must love
solitude, and render it familiar, that so every
one may have an opportunity to speak much
to himself, and little to other people. “We
must, to be sure,” says à Kempis, “be in
charity with all men; but it is not expedient
to be familiar with every one.”f General and
indiscriminate conversation with every one
we meet, is a mean and silly thing. Even
when we promise ourselves comfort and sat-
isfaction from free conversation, we often re-
turn from such interviews with uneasiness;
or, at least, have spoken and heard such
things as, upon serious reflection, may justly
give us concern.
But, if we would secure our tongues and
senses, or keep safe our hearts and all the is-
sues of life, we must be frequent at prayer, in
the morning, at noon, and at night, or often-
er throughout the day, and continually walk
as in the presence of God; always remember-
ing that he observes not only our words and
actions, but also takes notice of our most se-
cret thoughts. This is the sum and substance
of true piety; for he who is always sensible
that that pure and all-seeing Eye is continu-
ally upon him, will never venture to sin with
set purpose, or full consent of mind. This
sense of the Divine presence would certainly
make our life on this earth like that of the
angels; for, according to our Lord's expres-
religioni servientes et sequaces; habeat omnem om-
mino domum vel familiam suam sic ordinatam, et dis-
ciplinae subditam, ut dicat huic, Wade, et vadat, et alii,
Veni, et veniat, et servo corpori, Facito hoc, et sine
murmure fiat quod jubetur; et paulo certe durius
tractandum est corpus, ne animo male pareat. &
* Improbagarrulitas, studiumque immane loquendi
f Xopis rô r' strew tróAAa kai rā kaiota.
# Charitas certe habenda est erga omnes, sed famil-
iaritas non expedit.
‘702
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
sion, it is their peculiar advantage, continu-
ally to behold the face of our Father who is in
heaven. By this means, Joseph escaped the
snares laid for him by an imperious mistress;
and, as if he had thrown water upon it, ex-
tinguished that fiery dart with this seasonable
reflection : Shall I do this great wickedness,
and sin against God 2 Genesis xxxix. 9. He
might have escaped the eyes of men, but he
stood in awe of that Invisible Eye from which
nothing can be hid. We read of a good man
of old, who got the better of a temptation of
the same kind, by the same serious consider-
ation ; for, being carried from One chamber to
another by the woman that tempted him, he
still demanded a place of greater secrecy, till
having brought him to the most retired place
of the whole house, “Here,” said she, “no
person will find us out, no eye can see us.”
To this he answered, “Will no eye see ? will
not that of God perceive us?” By which say-
ing, he himself escaped the snare, and, by the
influence of Divine grace, brought the sinful
woman to repentance. But now,
Let us pray.
PRAISE waits for thee, O Lord, in Zion ; and
to be employed in paying thee that tribute is
a becoming and pleasant exercise. . It is due
to thee from all the works of thy hands, but
particularly proper from thy saints and celes-
tial spirits. Elevate, O Lord, our minds, that
they may not grovel on the earth, and plunge
themselves in the mire; but, being carried
upward, may taste the pleasures of thy house,
that exalted house of thine, the inhabitants
whereof are continually singing thy praises.
Their praises add nothing to thee; but they
themselves are perfectly happy therein, while
they behold thy boundless goodness without
any veil, admire thy uncreated beauty, and
celebrate the praises thereof throughout all
ages. Grant us, that we may walk in the
paths of holiness, and, according to our meas-
ure, exalt thy name even on this earth, until
we also be translated into the glorious assem-
bly of those who serve thee in thy higher
house.
Remember thy goodness and thy covenant
to thy church militant upon this earth, and
exposed-to dangers amid so many enemies;
yet we believe that, notwithstanding all these
dangers, it will be safe at last : it may be dis-
tressed, and plunged in the waters, but it can
not be quite overwhelmed, or finally perish.
Pour out thy blessings upon this our nation,
our city, and university. We depend upon
thee, O Father, without whose hand we should
not have been, and without whose favor we
can never be happy. . Inspire our hearts with
gladness, thou who alone art the fountain of
solid, pure, and permanent joy ; and lead
us, by the paths of righteousness and grace,
to the rest and light of glory, for the
sake of thy Son, our Redeemer, Jesus Christ.
Amen.
LECTURE XXIII.
PURITY OF LIFE.
IN every act of religious worship, what a
great advantage would it be, to remember
that saying of our great Master, which no-
body is altogether ignorant of, and yet scarce-
ly any know as they ought : “That God,
whom we worship, is a spirit, and therefore
to be worshipped in spirit and in truth.” He
is a spirit, a most pure spirit, and the Father
of spirits: he is truth, primitive truth, and the
most pure fountain of all truth : “But we all
have erred in heart.”f We are indeed spir-
its, but spirits immersed in flesh ; nay, as it
were, converted into flesh, and, the light of
truth being extinguished within us, quite in-
volved in the darkness of error: and what
still sets us in greater opposition to the truth,
everything about us is false and delusive:
“There is no soundness.”f How improper,
therefore, are we, who are deceitful and car-
nal, to worship that Spirit of supreme truth !
Though we pray, and fast often, yet all our
sacrifices, as they are polluted by the impure
hands where with we offer them, must be of
fensive, and unacceptable to God: and the
more they are multiplied, the more the pure
and spotless Deity must complain of them, as
the grievance is thereby enhanced. Thus, by
his prophet, he complained of his people of
old: “Your new moons,” saith he, “and
your appointed feasts, my soul hateth : they
are a trouble to me; I am weary to bear
them; therefore, when you spread forth your
hands, I will hide mine eyes from you, and,
as it were, turn my back upon you with dis-
dain: but if you will wash you, and make
you clean, then come and let us reason to-
gether:”$ as if he had said, “Then let us
converse together, and if there be any differ-
ence between us, let us talk over the matter,
and settle it in a friendly manner, that our
complaints may be turned into mutual em-
braces, and all your sins being freely and
fully forgiven, you may be restored to perfect
innocence.”—“Though your sins be as scar-
let, they shall be as white as snow ; though
they be redder than crimson, they shall be
whiter than wool; wash yourselves, and I
will also wash you, and most completely
wipe away all your stains.”
But that we may be the better provided for
this useful and altogether necessary exercise
of cleansing our hearts and ways, and apply
to it with the greater vigor, letus dwell a lit-
tle upon that sacred expression in the Psalms,
“Wherewith shall a young man purify his
way ?” The answer is, “By taking heed
thereto according to thy word.” In this ques-
* John iv. 24.
f'Huets 32 troXXot kapčía rAavópevot.
f Oööv tytês-
| Xàpkikot kai peñarat.
§ Isaiah i. 14–16, 18.
* Psalm exix. 9.
PURITY OF LIFE.
703
tion, several things offer themselves to our
observation.
1. That, without controversy,” purity of
life, or conversation, is a most beautiful and
desirable attainment, and that it must, by all
means, begin at the very fountain, that is, the
heart; whence, as Solomon observes, “pro-
ceed the issues of life.” In the beginning of
the Psalm, they are pronounced blessed “who
are pure, or undefiled in the way, who walk
in the law of the Lord.” And, in another
place, “Truly, God is good to Israel,” says
the psalmist, “even to such as are of a clean
heart.”f And the words of our Savior to this
purpose are, “Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they shall see God.”f Nor is the true and
genuine beauty of the soul anything distinct
from this purity and sanctity; this is the true
image of its great Creator; that golden crown
which most unhappily dropped off the head
of man, when he fell ; so that, with the great-
est justice, we may lament and say, “Wo un-
to us that we have sinned " And it is the
general design and intention of all religion,
all its mysteries, and all its precepts, that
this crown may be again restored, at least to
some part of the human race, and this image
again stamped upon them ; which image,
when fully completed, and for ever confirmed,
will certainly constitute a great part of that
happiness we now hope for, and aspire after.
Then, we trust, we shall attain to a more full
conformity and resemblance to our beloved
Head. And, even in this wayfaring state, the
more deeply and thoroughly our souls are
tinctured with the divine flame of charity,
joined with this beautiful purity, the more
we resemble him who is white and ruddy, and
fairer than the sons of men. The Father of
mercies has made choice of us, that we may
be holy; the Son of God, blessed for ever, has
once for all shed his blood upon earth, in or-
der to purify us, and daily pours out his
Spirit from heaven upon us, for the same
purpose.
But to consider the matter, as it is in itself,
where is the person that does not, even by the
force of natural instinct, disdain filth and nas-
tiness, or at least prefer to it purity and neat-
ness of body ? Now, as the soul greatly ex-
cels the body, so much the more desirable is
it, that it should be found in a state of beauty
and purity. In like manner, were we to
travel a journey, who would not prefer a
plain and clean way to one that were rough
and dirty 2 But the way of life, which is not
the case in other matters, will be altogether
such as you would have it or choose to make
it. With God's assistance, and the influence
of his grace, a good man is at pains to purify
his own way; but men of an impure and
beastly disposition, who delight to wallow in
the mire, may always easily obtain their sor-
did wish. But I hope that you, disdaining
such a brutish indignity, will, in preference
º ‘Ouokoyoupévos.
Psalm lxxiii. 1. ł Matt. v. 8.
to everything else, give your most serious at-
tention to this inquiry, by what means even
young men and boys may purify their way,
and, avoiding the dirty paths of the common
sort of mankind, walk in such as are more
pleasant and agreeable.
2. Observe, that purity is not such an easy
matter that it may fall by chance in the way
of those that are not in quest of it, but a work
of great art and industry. Hence you may
also learn, that the way, even of young men
or boys,” stands very much in need of this
careful attention. It is indeed true, that, in
some respect, the reformation of youth is ea-
sier and sooner accomplished, in i. they are
not accustomed to shameful and wicked ways,
nor confirmed in sinful habits: but there are
other regards wherein it is more difficult to
reduce that period of life to purity, particu-
larly as it is more strongly impressed with
the outward objects that surround it, and ea-
sily disposed to imbibe the very worst : the
examples and incitements to vice beset youth
in greater abundance, and those of that age
are more apt to fall in with them.
But whatever may be said of the easiness
or difficulty of reforming youth and child-
hood, it is evident from the question, which,
without doubt, is proposed with wisdom and
seriousness, that this matter is within the
verge of possibility, and of the number of
such as are fit to be attempted. Youth is not
so headstrong, nor childhood so foolish, but
by proper means they can be bent and formed
to virtue and piety. Notwithstanding the ir-
regular desires and forwardness of youth, and
that madness whereby they are hurried to for-
bidden enjoyments, there are words and ex-
pressions that can sooth this impetuosity, even
such, that by them youth can tame and com-
pose itself, By attending to itself and its ways,
according to thy word ; that matchless word,
which contains all those particular words and
expressions, not only that are proper to purify
and quiet all the motions and affections of the
soul, but also, by a certain Divine power, are
wonderfully efficacious for that purpose. And
what was said of old concerning Sparta and
its discipline, may be, with much greater
truth, asserted of the Divine law and true re-
ligion, viz., that it had a surprising power to
tame and subdue mankind..f And this leads
us directly to the answer of the question in
the text: By attending thereto according to
thy word.
This is not, therefore, to be done according
to our philosophy, but according to thy word,
O eternal Light, Truth, and Purity | The
philosophy of the heathens, it is true, con-
tains some moral instructions and precepts
that are by no means despicable; but this is
only so far as they are agreeable to the word
of God and the Divine law, though the phi-
losophers themselves knew nothing of it.
* The Hebrew word used in the text, properly sig-
nifies a boy.
f Aapaciuégorov.
704
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES.
But the only perfect system of moral philos-
ophy, that ought to be universally received,
is the doctrine of Christianity. This the an-
cient fathers of the primitive church have
asserted, and fully proved, to the honor of
our religion. But those who spend their
lives in the study of philosophy can neither
reform themselves nor others, if nature be
but a little obstinate; and their wisdom,
when it does its utmost, rather conceals vi-
ces, than eradicates them ; but the Divine
precepts make so great a change upon the
man, and, subduing his old habits, so reform
him, that you would not know him to be the
same. If any of you, then, aspire to this
purity of mind and way, you must, with all
possible care, conform yourself, and every-
thing about you, to the instructions and pre-
cepts of this Divine word. Nor think this a
hard saying ; for the study of purity has
nothing in it that is unpleasant or disagreea-
ble, unless you think it a grievance to become
like unto God. -
Consider now, young men, nay, you who,
without offence, will suffer yourselves to be
called boys: consider, I say, wherein consists
that true wisdom which deserves to be pur-
sued with the most earnest study and appli-
cation, and whereby, if you will, you may
far exceed those that are your superiors in
years. Be ambitious to attain the advan-
tage mentioned in the text, and consequent-
ly the condition upon which it depends, for
they are inseparably connected together.
Reconcile your minds to a strict attention to
your ways, according to the Divine word ;
and by this means (which is a very rare at-
tainment), you will reconcile youth, and even
childhood, to the purity here recommended.
Account the Divine word and precepts pref-
erable to your daily food ; yea, let them be
dearer to you than your eyes, and even than
life itself.
--
LECTURE XXIV.
BEFORE THE COMIMUNION.
IT is the advice of the wise man, “Dwell
at home,” or, with yourself; and though
there are very few that do this, yet it is sur-
prising that the greatest part of mankind can
not be prevailed upon, at least to visit them-
selves sometimes; but, according to the say-
ing of the wise Solomon, The eyes of the
fool are in the ends of the earth. It is the
peculiar property of the human mind, and
its signal privilege, to reflect upon itself; yet
we, foolishly neglecting this most valuable
gift conferred upon us by our Creator, and
the great ornament of our nature, spend our
lives in a brutish thoughtlessness. Were a man
not only to turn in upon himself, carefully to
search and examine his own heart, and daily
endeavor to improve it more and more in pu-
rity, but also to excite others with whom he
conversed, to this laudable practice, by sea-
sonable advice and affecting exhortations, he
would certainly think himself very happy in
these exercises. Now, though this expedi-
ent is never unseasonable, yet, it will be par-
ticularly proper on such an occasion as this,
to try it upon yourselves; as you are not ig-
norant, that it is the great apostolical rule
with respect to all who are called to cele-
brate the Divine mysteries. Let every man
eaamine himself, and so let him eat of that
bread, and drink of that cup. 1 Cor. xi. 28.
I do not here intend a full explication of
this mystery, but only to put you in mind,
that, in order to a saving use and participa-
tion thereof, a twofold judgment must of ne-
cessity be formed; the first with respect to
our own souls, and the other, to that of the
Lord's body. These the apostle considers as
closely connected together, and therefore ex-
presses both by the same word. The trial
we are to make of ourselves is indeed ex-
pressed by the word Coxipáčew, which signifies
to prove or to try ; but immediately after, he
expresses it by judging ourselves [Ei yüp tavrois
5terpivouev); For if we should judge ourselves,
&c. Whereas, in the preceding verses, he
had mentioned the other judgment to be
formed, and expressed it by the same word
[ötakpivetv), which signifies to judge or discern :
[Mhótaxpivºv rá ačjua roi, Kºptov.] Not discerning
the Lord's body. And this is that which
renders a vast many unworthy of so great
an honor; they approach this heavenly feast
without forming a right judgment either of
themselves or of it. But, that we form a
judgment of ourselves, it is necessary that
we first bring ourselves to an impartial trial :
and, to be sure, I should much rather advise
you to this inward self-examination, and
heartily wish I could persuade you to it, than
that you should content yourselves with a
lifeless trial of your memory, by repeating
compositions on this subject.
Consider with yourselves, I pray, and think
seriously, what madness, what unaccounta-
ble folly it is, to trifle with the majesty of
the Most High God, and to offer to infinite
Wisdom the sacrifices of distraction and
folly 2 Shall we who are but insignificant
worms, thus provoke the almighty King to
jealousy, as if we were stronger than he,
and of purpose run our heads, as it were,
against that Power, the slightest touch
whereof would crush us to dust? Do we not
know, that the same God who is an enliven-
ing and saying light to all that worship with
humble piety, is, nevertheless, a consuming
fire to all the impious and profane, who pot-
lute his sacrifices with impure hearts and un-
clean hands 2 And that those especially who
have been employed in his church, and in the
Divine offices, yet have not experienced his
influence as a pure and shining Hight, will un-
avoidably feel him as a flaming fire?, Let
his saints rejoice and exult before God, for
EXHORTATION BEFORE THE COMMUNION.
705
this he not only allows, but even commands:
yet, let even those of them who have made
the greatest advances in holiness, remember,
that this holy and spiritual joy is to be joined
with holy fear and trembling: nay, the great-
er progress they have made in holiness, the
more deeply will they feel this impressed up-
on their minds, so that they can by no means
forget it, “The great Eye is over us, let us
be afraid.” Great is our God, and holy:
even the angels worship him. Let his saints
approach him, but with humility and fear;
but as for the slothful and those that are im-
mersed in guilt, who securely and with pleas-
ure indulge themselves in impure affections,
let them not dare to come near. Yet if there
are any, let their guilt and pollution be ever
So great, who find arising within them a
hearty aversion to their own impurity, and
an earnest desire after holiness; behold, there
is opened for you a living and pure fountain,
most effectual for cleansing and washing
away all sorts of stains, as well as for re-
freshing languishing and thirsty souls. And
he who is the living and never-failing foun-
tain of purity and grace, encourages, calls,
and exhorts you to come to him. Come unto
me, all ye that are athirst, &c. And again,
All that the Father give!h me, shall come un-
to me , and him that cometh unto me, I will
by no means reject or cast out. John vi. 37.
Ask yourselves, therefore, what you would
be at, and with what dispositions you come
to this most sacred table. Say, Whither art
thou going, and what seekest thou, O my
soul ? For it would be an instance of the
most extravagant sloth and folly, to set about
a matter of so great importance, and so seri-
ous, without any end, without the prospect
of any advantage, and therefore without any
serious turn of mind, or as one doing noth-
ing. Yet this is the case of vast numbers
that meet together in Divine assemblies, and
at this holy sacrament. Is it any wonder
that those should find nothing, who abso-
lutely have nothing in view ; and that he
who is bound for no harbor, should meet with
no favorable wind 2 They give themselves
up to the torrent of custom, and steer not
their course to any particular port, but fluctu-
ate and know not whither they are carried :
or, if they are alarmed with any sting of
conscience, it is only a kind of inconsiderate
and irregular motion, and reaches no farther
than the exterior surface of sacred institu-
tions. But as for you, who, according to the ex-
pression of the angels, seek Jesus, fear not ;
you will certainly find him, and in him all
things. For it hath pleased the Father, that
in him all fulness shall dwell. Col. i. 10. So
that in him there is no vacuity, and without
him, nothing else but emptiness and vanity.
Let us embrace him, therefore, with our
whole hearts, and on him alone let us depend
and rely.
Let his death, which we commemorate by
* "Oupa péya grºw.
this mystery, extinguish in us all worldly af.
fections. May we feel his Divine power
working us into a conformity to his sacred
image ; and having our strength, as it were,
renewed by his means, let us travel toward
our heavenly country, constantly following
him with a resolute and accelerated pace.
The concern of purifying the heart in good
earnest, taking proper measures for conform-
ing the life to the rules of the gospel, is
equally incumbent upon all. For this is the
great and true design of all Divine worship,
and of all religious institutions; though the
greater part of mankind satisfy themselves
with the outward surface of them, and there-
fore catch nothing but shadows in religion it-
self, as well as in the other concerns of life.
We have public prayers and solemn sacra-
ments: yet, if amid all these, one should
look for the true and lively characters of
Christian faith, or in the vast numbers that
attend these institutions, he should search
for those that, in the course of their lives,
approve themselves the true followers of
their great Master, he would find reason to
compare them to a “few persons swimming
at a great distance from one another, in a
Vast Ocean.”
It has been observed long ago by One, “that
in Rome itself he had found nothing of
Rome ;”f which with too great truth might be
applied to religion, about which we make so
great a bustle at present; there is scarcely
anything at all of religion in it, unless we
imagine that religion consists of words, as a
grove does of trees. For, if we suppose it
lies in the mortification of sin, unfeigned hu-
mility, brotherly charity, and a noble con-
tempt of the world and the flesh, whither
has it gone and left us 2 As for you, young
gentlemen, if you would apply to this mat-
ter in good earnest, you must, of necessity,
bestow some time and pains upon it, and not
fondly dream that such great advantages can
be met with by chance, or in consequence of
a negligent and superficial inquiry. If we
are to alter the course of our life for the time
to come, we must look narrowly into our
conduct during the preceding part of it; for
the measures to be taken for the future are,
in a great degree, suggested by what is past.
He acts wisely, and is a happy man, who
frequently, nay, daily reviews his words and
actions ; because he will doubtless perform
the same duty with greater ease, and to bet-
ter purpose, when he is called to it with
more than ordinary solemnity. And, there-
fore, they who have experienced how pleas-
ant this work is, and what a mixture of util-
ity is joined with this pleasure, will apply to
it with a cheerful mind, whenever opportu-
nity requires it. As to others, they must of
necessity set about it some time or other: I
say of necessity, if I am allowed to say it is
necessary to avoid the wrath to come, and to
* Apparent rari nantes in gurgite vasto.
f Se in Romã, Roma nihil invenisse.
706
EXHORTATION TO THE STUDENTs.
obtain peace and salvation. Repentance may
possibly appear a laborious and unpleasant
work to our indolence, and to repent, may
seem a harsh expression : to perish, howev-
er, is still more harsh; but a sinful man has
no other choice. Our Lord, who is truth it-
self, being acquainted with the cruel execu-
tion performed by Herod upon the Galileans,
takes this opportunity to declare to his hear-
ers, that unless they repented, they should
all likewise perish. Luke xiii. 3. The Savior
of the j it is true, came for this very
purpose, that he might save those that were
miserable and lost, from the fatal necessity
of being utterly undone; but he never in-
tended to take away the happy and pleasant
necessity of repentance: may, he strength-
ened the obligation to it, and imposed it as a
duty inseparably connected with grace and
happiness. And this connexion, he not only
preached in expressions to the same purpose
with his forerunner, John the Baptist, but
even in the very same words: Repent ye, for
the kingdom of heaven is at hand. Matt. iv. 7.
And in another place, having told us that he
came not to call the righteous, but sinners,
Matt ix. 13, he immediately adds, to what
he called those sinners; not to a liberty of
indulging themselves in sin, but from sin to
repentance. His blood which was shed on
the cross is indeed a balsam more precious
than all the balm of Gilead and Arabia, and
all the ointments of the whole world ; but it
is solely intended for curing the contrite in
heart.
But alas ! that gross ignorance of God that
overclouds our mind is the great and the un-
happy cause of all the guilt we have con-
tracted, and of that impenitence which enga-
ges us to continue in it. Had men but the
least knowledge how disagreeable and hate-
ful all sinful pollution renders us to his eter-
nal and infinite purity ; and, on the other
hand, what a likeness to him we attain by
holiness, and how amiable we are thereby
rendered in his sight; they would look upon
this as the only valuable attainment, they
would pursue it with the most vigorous ef-
forts of their minds, and would make it their
constant study day and night; that, accord-
ing to the divine advice of the apostle, being
cleansed from all filthiness of the flesh and
spirit, they might perfect holiness in the fear
of God. 2 Cor. vii. 9.
AN EXH 0 RTATION TO THE STUDENTS,
TJPON THEIR RETURN TO THE UNIVERSITY AFTER THE WACATION.
*mº-º-º-º-
WE are at last returned, and some are for
the first time brought hither by that Supreme
Hand which holds the reins of this vast uni-
verse, which rules the stormy winds and
swelling sea, and distributes peace and war to
nations according to its pleasure. The great
Lord of the universe, and Father of mankind,
while he rules the world with absolute sway,
does not despise this little flock, provided we
look up unto him, and humbly pray that we
may feel the favorable effects of his presence
and bounty: nay, he will not disdain to dwell
within us, and in our hearts, unless we,
through folly, and ignorance of our true hap-
piness, shut the door against him when he
offers to come in. He is the Most High, yet
has chosen the humble heart for the most
agreeable place of his residence on this earth:
but the proud and haughty, who look with
disdain on their inferiors, he, on his part, de-
spises, and beholds, as it were, afar off. He
is most holy, and dwells in no hearts but such
as are purged from the dross of earthly affec-
tions; and that these may be holy, and really
capable of receiving his sacred Majesty, they
must, of necessity, be purified. Know ye not,
says the divine apostle, that you, even your
bodies, are the temples of the Holy Ghost, and
therefore are to be preserved pure and holy 2
1 Cor. vi. 19. But the mind that dwells
within them must be still more holy, as be-
ing the priest that, with constant and unwea-
ried piety, offers up the sacrifices and sweet
incense of pious affections, cheerful obedi-
ence, ardent prayers, and divine praises, to
the Deity of that temple.
Of your studies and exotic learning, I in-
tend not to say much. The knowledge, I
own, that men of letters, who are the most
indefatigable in study, and have the advan-
tage of the greatest abilities, can possibly at-
tain to, is at best but very small. But since
the knowledge of languages and sciences,
however inconsiderable it may be, is the bu-
siness of this society of ours, and of that peri-
od of years you are to pass here, let us do, I
pray, as the Hebrews express it, “the work
of the day while the day lasts;” “for time
slips silently away, and every succeeding
hour is attended with greater disadvantages
than that which went before it.”f
Study to acquire such a philosophy as is
not barren and babbling, but solid and true;
* Opus diei in die suo.
f Tempus nam tacitum subruit, horaque
Semper praeterità deterior subit.
EXHORTATION TO THE STUDENTS.
70ſ.
not such a one as floats upon the surface of
endless verbal controversies, but one that en-
ters into the nature of things: for he spoke
good sense, who said, “The philosophy of
the Greeks was a mere jargon and noise of
words.”%
You who are engaged in philosophical in-
quiries ought to remember, in the meanwhile,
that you are not so strictly confined to that
study, but you may, at the same time, be-
come proficients in elocution; and, indeed, it
is proper you should. I would therefore have
you to apply to both these studies with equal
attention, that so you may not only attain
some knowledge of nature, but also be in
condition to communicate your sentiments
with ease, upon those subjects you under-
stand, and clothe your thoughts with words
and expressions; without which, all your
knowledge will differ but very little from bu-
ried ignorance.
In joining these two studies together, you
have not only reason for your guide, but also
Aristotle himself for your example; for we
are told, that it was his custom to walk up
and down in the school in the morning,
teaching philosophy, particularly those spec-
ulative and more obscure points which in
that age were called rationes acroamatica;
and thus he was employed till the hour ap-
pointed for anointing, and going to exercise;f
but, after dinner, he applied to the more en-
tertaining arts of persuasion, and made his
scholars declaim upon such subjects as he
appointed them.
But to return to my own province; for, to
say the truth, I reckon all other things for-
eign to my purpose; whatever you do with
regard to other studies, give always the pref.
erence to sacred Christian philosophy, which
is, indeed, the chief philosophy, and has the
pre-eminence over every other science, be-
cause it holds Christ to be the Head,t in
whom all the treasures of wisdom and knowl-
edge are hid. Col. ii. 3, 9. This, the apostle
tells us, was not the case of those false Chris-
tians in his time, whose philosophy regarded
only some idle superstitions and vain obser-
Vations. Cultivate, therefore, I say, this sa-
cred wisdom sent down from heaven. Let
this be your main study; for its mysteries
are the most profound, its precepts the most
pure, and, at the same time, the most pleas-
ant. In this study, a weak understanding
will be no disadvantage, if you have but a
willing mind and ardent desires. Here, if
anywhere, the observation holds, that “if
you love learning, you can not fail to make
great progress therein.”|| For some who
have applied with great industry to human
philosophy, have found it to be like a dis-
dainful mistress, and lost their labor; but Di-
* QPi\ogopia ‘EXAñvoy Xáyov popos.
f Mexpt roi dAsiparos.
# 'Q Kepaxmy kpáret.
| 'Eau is pºpuðms, on toxvpabis.-Isoc. AD DEM.
vine philosophy invites and encourages even
those cf the meanest parts.
And, indeed, it may be no small comfort
and relief to young men of slow capacities,
who make but little progress in human scien-
ces, even when they apply to them with the
most excessive labor and diligence, that this
heavenly doctrine, though it be the most ex-
alted in its own nature, is not only accessible
to those of the lowest and meanest parts, but
they are cheerfully admitted to it, graciously
received, preferred to those that are proud of
their learning, and very often advanced to
higher degrees of knowledge therein; ac-
cording to that of the psalmist, The law of
the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes; the
entrance of his word giveth light; it giveth
also understanding unto the simple. Psalm
cxix. 130. You, therefore, whom some very
forward youths leave far behind in other
studies, take courage; and to wipe off this
stain, if it be one, and compensate this dis-
couragement, make this your refuge: you
can not possibly arrive at an equal pitch of
eloquence or philosophy with some others,
but what hinders you, I pray, from being as
pious, as modest, as meek and humble, as
holy and pure in heart, as any other person
whatever ? And # this means, in a very
short time, you will be completely happy in
the enjoyment of God, and live for ever in
the blessed society of angels and spirits of
just men made perfect.
But if you want to make a happy progress
in this wisdom, you must, to be sure, declare
war against all the lusts of the world and the
flesh, which enervate your minds, weaken
your strength, and deprive you of all disposi-
tion and fitness for imbibing this pure and
immaculate doctrine. How stupid is it to
catch so greedily at advantages so vanishing
and fleeting in their nature, if, indeed, they
can be called advantages at all; “advanta-
ges that are carried hither and thither, hur-
ried from place to place by the uncertainty of
their nature, and often fly away before they
can be possessed.” An author remarkable
for his attainments in religion, jnstly cries
out, “O ! what peace and tranquillity might
he possess who could be prevailed upon to
cut off all vain anxiety, and think only of
those things that are of a Divine and saving
nature l’’; Peace and tranquillity is, without
doubt, what we all seek after, yet, there are
very few that know the way to it, though it
be quite plain and open. It is, indeed, no
wonder that the blind who wander about
without a guide, should mistake the plainest
and most open path ; but we have an infalli-
ble guide, and a most valiant leader. Let
us follow him alone; for he that treadeth in
his steps, can never walk in darkness.
* Tā āva kai kāra, pepôueva, kai trepurpetrópeva, kai rpiv
Anq6ńval, amtovra.
O qui omnem vanam solicitudinem amputaret, et
salutaria duntaxât ac divina cogitaret, quantam qui-
etem et pacem possideret !
708
EXHORTATIONS TO THE CANDJDATES
Let us pray.
O! INVINCIBLE God, who seest all things
Eternal Light, before whom all darkness is
light, and in comparison with whom, every
other light is but darkness . The weak eyes
of our understanding can not bear the open
and full rays of thy inaccessible light; and
yet, without some glimpses of that light
from heaven, we can never direct our steps,
nor proceed toward that country which is the
habitation of light. May it therefore please
thee, O Father of Lights, to send forth thy
light and thy truth, that they may lead us di-
rectly to thy holy mountain. Thou art good,
and the fountain of goodness; give us under-
standing, that we may keep thy precepts.
That part of our past lives, which we have
lost in pursuing shadows, is enough, and, in-
deed, too much : bring back our souls into
the paths of life, and let the wonderful sweet-
ness thereof, which far exceeds all the pleas-
ures of this earth, powerfully, yet pleas-
antly, preserve us from being drawn aside
therefrom by any temptation from sin or
the world. Purify, we pray thee, our souls
from all impure imaginations, that thy most
beautiful and holy image may be again
renewed within us, and, by contemplating
thy glorious perfections, we may feel daily
improved within us that Divine similitude,
the perfection whereof we hope will at last
make us for ever happy in that full and be-
atific vision we aspire after. Till this most
blessed day break, and the shadows fly away,
Jet thy Spirit be continually with us, and may
we feel the powerful effects of his Divine
grace constantly directing and supporting our
steps; that all our endeavors, not only in this
society, but throughout the whole remaining
part of our lives, may serve to promote the
honor of thy blessed name, through Jesus
Christ our Lord. Amen.
E X H 0 R T A T I 0 N S
TO THE CANDIDATES FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS, IN THE UNIVERSITY OF
EDINBURGH.
EXHORTATION I.
WERE I allowed to speak freely what I
sincerely think of most of the affairs of human
life, even those that are accounted of the high-
estimportance, and transacted with the great-
est eagerness and bustle, I should be apt to
Say, Magno conatu magnas mugas—that a
great noise is made about trifles. But if you
should take this amiss, as a little unseasona-
ble upon the present occasion, and an insult
upon your solemnity, I hope you will the
more easily forgive me, that I place in the
same rank with this philosophical convéntion
of yours, the most famous councils and gen-
eral assemblies of princes and great men; and
say of their golden crowns, as well as your
crowns of laurel, that they are Karvoi aktas owk av
79tátunv–things of no value, and not worth the
purchasing. Even the triumphal, inaugural,
or nuptial processions of the greatest kings
and generals of armies, with whatever pomp
and magnificence, as well as art, they may
be set off, they are, after all, so far true rep-
resentations of their false, painted, and tinsel
happiness, that, while we look at them, they
fly away; and, in a very short time, they are
followed by their funeral processions, which
are the triumphs of death over those who
have, themselves, triumphed , during their
lives. The scenes are shifted, the actors also
disappear; and, in the same manner, the
greatest shows of this vain world likewise
pass away. Let us, that we may lop off the
luxuriant branches of our vines, take a nearer
view of this object, and remember that what
we now call a laurel crown, will soon be fol-
lowed by cypress wreaths. It will be also
proper to consider how many, who, in their
time, were employed as we are now, have
long ago acted their parts, and are now con-
signed to a long oblivion : as also, what vast
numbers of the rising generation are following
us at the heels, and, as it were, pushing us for-
ward to the same land of forgetfulness who,
while they are hurrying us away, are, at the
same time, hastening thither themselves. All
that we see, all that we do, and all that we are,
are but mere dreams; and if we are not sensible
of this truth, it is because we are still asleep:
none but minds that are awake can discern it;
they, and they only, can perceive and despise
these praiypara— illusions of the night. In
the meantime, nothing hinders us from sub-
mitting to these, and other such customary
formalities, provided our doing it interfere
not with matters of much greater importance,
and prospects of a different and more exalted
nature. What is it, pray, to which with the
most ardent wishes you have been aspiring
throughout the whole course of these last four
years ? Here you have a cap and a title, and
nothing at all more.
But perhaps taking this amiss, you secretly
blame me in your hearts, and wish me to con-
gratulate you upon the honor you have ob-
tained. I cheerfully comply with your desire,
and am willing to explain myself. These
small presents are not the principal reward
of your labors, nor the chief end of your stud-
FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS. 709
ies; but honorary marks and badges of that upon heavenly enjoyments, take pleasure in
erudition and knowledge where with your
minds have been stored by the uninterrupted
labors of four whole years. But whatever at-
tainments in learning you have reached, I
would have you seriously to reflect, how in-
considerable they are, and how little they dif-
fer from nothing. Nay, if what we know, is
compared with what we know not, it will be
found even vastly less than nothing : at least,
it is an argument of little knowledge, and the
sign of a vain and weak mind, to be puffed
up with an overbearing opinion of our own
knowledge; while, on the contrary, it is an
evidence of a great proficiency in knowledge,
to be sensible of our ignorance and inability.
“He is the wisest man,” says Plato, “who
knows himself to be very ill qualified for the
attainment of wisdom.”* Whatever be in
this, we often find the sciences and arts which
you cultivate, to be useless and entirely bar-
ren, with regard to the advantages of life;
and, generally speaking, those other profes-
sions that are illiterate and illiberal, may, even
unlawful, meet with better treatment, and
greater encouragement than what we call the
liberal arts. “He that ventures upon the sea,
is enriched by his voyage : he that engages in
war, glitters with gold ; the mean parasite
lies drunk on a rich bed ; and even he who
endeavors to corrupt married women is re-
warded for his villany: learning alone starves
in tattered rags, and invokes the abandoned
arts in vain.”f
But, as sometimes the learned meet with a
better fate, you, young gentlemen, I imagine,
entertain better hopes with regard to your
fortune, nor would I discourage them ; yet, I
would gladly moderate them a little by this
wholesome advice : lean not upon a broken
reed, neither let any one who values his
peace, his real dignity, and his satisfaction,
give himself up to hopes that are uncertain,
frail, and deceitful. The human race are,
perhaps, the only creatures that by this means
become a torment to themselves: for, as we
always grasp at futurity, we vainly promise
ourselves many and great things, in which,
as commonly happens, being for the most
part disappointed, we must, of necessity, pay
for our foolish pleasure with a proportionate
degree of pain. Thus, the greatest part of
mankind find the whole of this wretched life
chequered with delusive joys and real tor-
ments, ill-grounded hopes and fears, equally
imaginary; amid these, we live in continual
suspense, and die so too.
But a few, alas ! a few only, yet some, who
think more justly, having set their hearts
* Ośra's gaporaros ūarts #yvºokev 6tt oiásvºs ūčios ºr
rp65 gopiav.–PHILO. APOL. SoCR.
f Qui pelago credit, magnose foenore tollit:
Qui pugnas et castra petit, præcingitur auro :
Vilis adulator pictojacet ebrius ostro;
Et qui solicitat nuptas, ad praemia peccat.
Sola pruinosis horret facundia pannis,
Atque inopilingua desertas invocat artes.
despising with a proper greatness of mind,
and trampling upon the fading enjoyments of
this world. These make it their only study,
and exert their utmost efforts, that, having
the more Divine part of their composition
weaned from the world and the flesh, they
may be brought to a resemblance and union
with the holy and supreme God, the Father
of spirits, by purity, piety, and an habitual
contemplation of Divine objects. And this,
to be sure, is the principal thing, with a no-
ble ambition whereof I would have your
minds inflamed ; and whatever profession or
manner of life you devote yourselves to, it is
my earnest exhortation and request, that you
would make this your constant and principal
study. Fly, if you have any regard to my ad-
vice, fly far from that controversial, conten-
tious school-divinity, which, in fact, consists
in fruitless disputes about words, and rather
deserves the name of vain and foolish talk-
IIlg.
$inos all mankind are constantly catch-
ing at something more than they possess, and
torment themselves in vain. Nor is our rest
to be found among these enjoyments of the
world, where all things are covered with a
deluge of vanity, as with a flood of fluctua-
ting, restless waters; and the soul flying about,
looking in vain for a place on which it may
set its foot, most unhappily loses its time, its
labor, and itself at last; like the birds in the
days of the flood, which “having long sought
for land, till their strength was quite exhaust-
ed, fell down at last, and perished in the Wa-
ters.”*
O ! how greatly preferable to these bushes,
and briers, and thorns, are the delightful
fields of the gospel, wherein pleasure and
profit are agreeably mixed together, whence
you may learn the way to everlasting peace;
that poverty of spirit which is the only true
riches, that purity of heart which is our great-
est beauty, and that inexpressible satisfaction
which attends the exercise of charity, humili-
ty, and meekness! When your minds are
stored and adorned with these graces, they
will enjoy the most pleasant tranquillity, even
amid the noise and tumults of this present
life; and you will be, to use the words of
Tertullian, candidates for eternity ; a title in-
finitely more glorious and sublime than what
has been this day conferred upon you. And
that great and last day, which is so much
dreaded by the slaves of this present world,
will be the most happy and auspicious to you ;
as it will deliver you from a dark, dismal
prison, and place you in the regions of the
most full and marvellous light.
Let us pray.
Most exalted God, who hast alone created,
and dost govern this whole frame, and all the
* Quaesitisque diu terris ubi sistere detur,
In mare lassatis volucris vaga decidit alis.
710
i EXHORTATIONS TO THE CANDIDATES
inhabitants thereof, visible and invisible,
whose name is alone wonderful, and to be
celebrated with the highest praise, as it is in-
deed above all praise and admiration. Let
the heavens, the earth, and all the elements
praise thee. Let darkness, light, all the
returns of days and years, and all the va-
rieties and vicissitudes of things, praise thee.
Let the angels praise thee, the archangels,
and all the blessed court of heaven, whose
very happiness it is, that they are constantly
employed in celebrating thy praises. We
confess, O Lord, that we are of all creatures
the most unworthy to praise thee, yet, of all
others, we are under the greatest obligations
to do it: nay, the more unworthy we are, our
obligation is so much the greater. From this
duty, however unqualified we may be, we
can by no means abstain, nor, indeed, ought
we. Let our souls bless thee, and all that is
within us praise thy holy name, who forgiv-
est all our sins, and healest all our diseases;
who deliverest our souls from destruction, and
crownest them with bounty and tender mer-
cies. Thou searchest the heart, O Lord, and
perfectly knowest the most intimate recesses
of it: reject not those prayers which thou per-
ceivest to be the voice and the wishes of the
heart. Now, it is the great request of our
hearts, unless they always deceive us, that
they may be weaned from all earthly and per-
ishing enjoyments; and if there is anything
to which they cleave with more than ordina-
ry force, may they be pulled away from it by
thy Almighty hand, that they may be joined
to thee for ever in an inseparable marriage-
covenant. And in our own behalf, we have
nothing more to ask. We only add, in be-
half of thy church, that it may be protected
under the shadow of thy wings, and every-
where, throughout the world, watered by thy
heavenly dew, that the spirit and heat of
worldly hatred against it may be cooled, and
its intestine divisions, whereby it is much
more grievously scorched, extinguished ; bless
this nation, this city, and this university, in
which we beg thou wouldst be pleased to re-
side, as a garden dedicated to thy name,
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
EXHORTATION II.
Would you have me to speak the truth
with freedom and brevity ? The whole
world is a kind of stage, and its inhabitants
mere actors. As to this little farce of yours,
it is now very near a conclusion, and you are
upon the point of applying to the spectators
for their applause. Should any supercilious-
ly decline paying this small tribute [ipavov),
you surely may, with great ease, retort their
contempt upon themselves, merely by saying,
Let your severity fall heavy on those who
admire their own performances: as to this
affair of ours, we know it is nothing at all.
For I will not allow myself to doubt but you
are very sensible, that there is indeed noth-
ing in it. if
It would, to be sure, be very improper, es-
pecially as the evening approaches, to de-
tain you, and my other hearers, with a long
and tedious discourse, when you are already
more than enough fatigued, and almost quite
tired out with hearing. I shall therefore on-
ly put you in mind of one thing, and that in
a few words. Let not this solemn toyſiuratypa),
however agreeable to youthful minds, so far
impose upon you, as to set you a dream-
ing of great advantages and pleasures to be
met with in this new period of life you are
entering upon. Look round you, if you
please, and take a near and exact survey of
all the different stations of life that are set
before you. If you enter upon any of the sta-
tions of active liſe, what is this but jumping
into a bush of thorns, where you can have no
hope of enjoying quiet, and yet can not easily
get out again 3 But if you rather choose to
enter upon some new branch of science, alas !
what a small measure of knowledge is to be
thus obtained, with what vast labor is even
that little to be purchased, and how often,
after immense toil and difficulty, will it be
found that Truth is still at a distance, and
not yet extracted out of the well.” We in-
deed believe that the soul breathed into man,
when he was first made, was pure, full of
light, and every way worthy of its divine ori-
ginal. But ah the Father of mankind, how
soon, and how much was he changed from
what he was at first ' He foolishly gave ear
to the fatal seducer, and that very moment
was seized upon by death, whereby he at
Once lost his purity, his light, or truth, and,
together with himself, ruined us also.
Now, since that period, what do you com-
monly meet with among men of wisdom and
learning, as they would wish to be account-
ed, but fighting and bickering in the dark 2
And while they dispute, with the greatest
heat, but at random, concerning the truth,
that truth escapes out of their hands, and in-
stead of it, both parties are put up with vain
shadows or phantoms of it, and, according to
the proverb, embrace a cloud instead of Juno.
But since we are forced to own, that even
the most contemptible and minutest things in
nature, often put all our philosophical subtle-
ty to a nonplus, what ignorance and foolish
presumption is it for us to airn at ransacking
the most hidden recesses of Divine things,
and boldly attempt to scan the Divine decrees,
and the other most profound mysteries of reli-
gion, by the imperfect and scanty measures
of our understandings! Whither would
the presumption of man hurry him, while it
prompts him to pry into every secret and hid-
den thing, and leave nothing at all unat-
tempted
As for you, young gentlemen, especially
* 'Ex roi; 3v305 # axm3eta.
FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS.
711
those of you that intend to devote yourselves
to theological studies, it is my earnest ad-
W1C 6 a. request to you, that you fly far
from that infectious curiosity which would
lead you into the depths of that controversial,
contentious theology, which if any doctrine
at all deserves the name, may truly be term-
ed, science falsely so called. And that you
may not, in this respect, be imposed upon by
the common reputation of acuteness and
learning, I confidently affirm, that to under-
stand and be master of those trifling disputes
that prevail in the schools, is an evidence of
a very mean understanding ; while, on the
contrary, it is an argument of a genius truly
great, entirely to slight and despise them,
and to walk in the light of pure and peacea-
ble truth, which is far above the dark and
cloudy region of controversial disputes. But
you will say, It is necessary, in order to the
defence of truth, to oppose errors, and blunt
the weapons of sophists. Be it so : but our
disputes ought to be managed with few
words, for naked truth is most effectual for
1ts own defence, and when it is once well
understood, its natural light dispels all the
darkness of error. For all things that are
reproved, are made manifest by the light,
saith the apostle. Your favorite philosopher
has told us, that “what is straight discovers
both rectitude and obliquity.” And Clemens
Alexandrinus has very justly observed, that
“ the ancient philosophers were not greatly
disposed to disputes or doubting ; but the
latter philosophers among the Greeks, out of
a vain desire to enhance their reputation, en-
gaged so far in wrangling and contention,
that their works became quite useless and
trifling.”
There is but one useful controversy or dis-
pute, one sort of war, most noble in its nature,
and most worthy of a Christian, and this, not
to be carried on against enemies at a great
distance, but such as are bred within our
own breasts: against those, it is most reason-
able to wage an endless war, and them it is
our duty to persecute to death. Let us all,
children, young men, and old, exert ourselves
vigorously in this warfare. Let our vices
die before us, that death may not find us in-
dolent, defiled, and wallowing in the mire ;
for then it will be most truly, and to our
great misery, death to us: whereas, to those
sanctified souls who are conformed to Christ,
and conquerors by his means, it rather is to
be called life, as it delivers them from their
wanderings and vices, from all kinds of evils,
and from that death which is final and eter-
nal.
Let us pray.
ETERNAL GOD, who art constantly adored
by thrones and powers, by seraphims and
* ‘Ort bi ÖaXavorarol row £1Mogopóv odóé àri to apot-
6m retv kai dropeſv špépovro ax\' oi rāv trap' "EXAnot veð-
repot, itſ pºor pias keväs kai ärexois r\ekrikós
&ua kai éptorukós, òs ràv čxpngro vščayovrat p\vaptav.
cherubims, we confess that thou art most
worthy to be praised; but we, of all others, are
the most unworthy to be employed in show-
ing forth thy praise. How can polluted bod-
ies, and impure souls, which, taken together,
are nothing but mere sinks of sin, praise thee,
the pure and holy majesty of heaven 2 Yet,
how can these bodies which thou hast won-
derfully formed, and these souls which thou
hast inspired, which owe entirely to thine
unmerited favor, all that they are, all that
they possess, and all they hope for, forbear
praising thee, their wise and bountiful Crea-
tor and Father ? Let our souls, therefore,
and all that is within us, bless thy holy
name: yea, let all our bones say, O Lord,
who is like unto thee; who is like unto thee ?
Far be it, most gracious Father, from our
hearts, to harbor anything that is displeas-
ing to thee: let them be, as it were, temples
dedicated to thy service, thoroughly purged
from every idol and image, from every object
of impure love and earthly affection. Let
our most gracious King and Redeemer dwell
and reign within us. May he take full pos-
session of us by his Spirit, and govern all our
actions. May he extend his peaceable and
saving kingdom throughout the whole habi-
table world, from the rising of the sun to the
going down thereof. Let the nations ac-
knowledge their King, and the isles be glad
in him ; and particularly, that which we in-
habit, with those in its neighborhood. And,
that they may be truly blessed in him, may
they daily submit more perfectly and dutiful-
ly to his golden sceptre, and the holy laws of
his gospel ! Bless this nation and city, and
this our University ; may it be continually
watered with the dew of thy Spirit, and
plentifully produce fruit acceptable in thy
sight, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
EXHORTATION III.
THis day, which has been the object of
your earnest wishes throughout the course of
four whole years, is now almost over, and
hastening to a close. What has it produced
for your advantage 2 Can he that has reaped
most successfully of you all, say, he has filled
his arms with sheaves 2 Though possibly
you would excuse me to express myself with
great freedom on this occasion, yet I will not
take the liberty to depreciate too much your
past studies, the specimens you have given
to-day of your abilities, and the degree that
has been conferred upon you. This, at least,
I imagine, I may say, without offence, the
most of those things we greedily catch at,
and labor most earnestly to obtain, and con-
sequently, even your philosophy is a real and
demonstrative truth of that great paradox,
that there is a vacuity in the nature of things.
And, in truth, how great is that vacuity, see-
ing even the human race is no inconsiderable
part of it ! Though this day is marked with
712
EXHORTATIONS TO THE CANDIDATES
Imore than ordinary solemnity, it is, after all,
but the conclusion and period of a number of
days that have been idly spent, and is itself
elapsing to little or no purpose, as well as the
rest. But O' how glorious must that blessed
day be, which all purified souls, and such as
are dear to God, earnestly long for, through-
out the whole of this perishing life, and con-
stantly wait, with a kind of impatience, un-
til it dawn, and the shadows fly away.
I am, indeed, of opinion, that those of you
who think most justly, will readily own, your
attainments, hitherto, are of no great moment.
But possibly, henceforth you intend to begin
life, as it were, anew : you aspire to greater
matters, and entertain views worthy of hu-
man nature ; you already begin to live, and
to be wise ; you form desires, and conceive
hopes of rising to arts, riches, and honors.
All this is very well. Yet, there is one con-
sideration I would have you to admit among
these ingenious projects and designs. What
if death should come upon you, and, looking
with an envious eye upon this towering pros-
pect, put a stop to a project that extends it-
self so far into futurity, and, like a spider's
web, entirely destroy it with a gentle breath
of wind 3 Nor would this be any prodi-
gy, or indeed an extraordinary event, but the
common fate of almost all mankind. “We
are always resolving to live, and yet never
set about life in good earnest.” Archime-
des was not singular in his fate; but a great
part of mankind die unexpectedly, while they
are poring upon the figures they have describ-
ed in the sand. O wretched mortals who,
having condemned themselves, as it were, to
the mines, seem to make it their chief study
to prevent their ever regaining their liberty.
Hence, new employments are assumed in the
place of old ones; and, as the Roman philo-
sopher truly expresses it, “one hope succeeds
another, one instance of ambition makes way
for another ; and we never desire an end of
our misery, but only that it may change its
outward form.”f When we cease to be can-
didates, and to fatigue ourselves in soliciting
interest, we begin to give our votes and inte-
rest to those who solicit us in their turn.
When we are wearied of the trouble of pros-
ecuting crimes at the bar, we commence
judges ourselves; and he who is grown old
in the management of other men's affairs for
money, is at last employed in improving his
own wealth. At the age of fifty, says one, I
will retire, and take my ease; or the sixtieth
year of my life shall entirely disengage me
from public offices and business. Fool' art
thou not ashamed to reserve to thyself the
last remains and dregs of life? Who will
stand surety that thou shalt live so long 2
And what immense folly is it, so far to forget
mortality, as to think of beginning to live at
* Victuros agimus semper, nec vivinus unquam.
f Spes spem excipit, ambitionem ambitio, et mis-
eriarum non quaeritur finis sed schema tantum mu-
tatur.
that period of years to which a few only at-
tain
As for you, young gentlemen, Isheartily
wish you may think more justly. Let your
Souls, as it were, retire into themselves, and
dwell at home ; and having shaken off the tri-
fles that make a bustle and noise around you,
consider seriously that the remaining part of
your life is long only in one respect (and in
this, indeed, its length may be justly com-
plained of), that it is fraught with every sort
of misery and affliction, and has nothing
agreeable in it, but the study of heavenly
wisdom alone; for everything else is vanity.
Look about you, and see whether there is
anything worthy of your affection, and wheth-
er everything you see does not rather excite
your indignation and aversion. At home, are
contentions and disputes; abroad in the fields,
robbers; clamor and noise at the bar ; wick-
edness in the camp : hypocrisy in the church ;
and vexation or lamentable mistakes every-
where. Among the rich and great, there are
false and inconstant friendships, bitter enmi-
ties, envy, fraud, and falsehood; and cares, in
great numbers, flutter round the most stately
and sumptuous palaces.
What a considerable part of mankind are
struggling with open and sharp afflictions !
To whatever side you turn yourself, what do
you commonly hear but lamentation and
mourning 2 How many complaints of the
poor, that are distressed for want of daily
bread, or drag a most wretched life under the
grievous oppression of powerful tyrants How
frequent are the groans of the sick and lan-
guishing ! How great the multitude of those
who lament their friends and relations car-
ried off by death, and will themselves, in a
short time, and for the same reason, be la-
mented by others' And, to conclude, how in-
numerable are the miseries and afflictions of
various kinds, that seem alternately to re-echo
to one another | Can it be any wonder, then,
that a life of this kind should sometimes force,
even from a wise man, such expressions of
sorrow and concern as the following: “O
mother, why didst thou bring me forth to be
oppressed with afflictions and sorrows 2 Wh
didst thou introduce me into a life full of bri-
ers and thorns 2*
But you are now philosophers, and amid
these dismal calamities, you comfort your-
selves with the inward and hidden riches of
wisdom, and the sciences you have acquired.
The sciences ! Tell us in what part of the
earth they are to be found. Let us know,
pray, where they dwell, that we may flock
thither in great numbers. I know, indeed,
where there is abundance of noise, with vain
and idle words, and a jarring of opinions be-
tween contending disputants; I know where
ignorance, under the disguise of a gown and
a beard, has obtained the title of science; but
where true knowledge is to be found I know
* Márep, ui, ri p' #rikrss &met troAigox60w frtkres,
Timre pe robe &iº jūras akav6opópo.
FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS.
713
not. We grope in the dark, and though it is
truth only we are in quest of, we fall into in-
numerable errors. But whatever may be our
case with respect to the knowledge of nature,
as to that of heavenly and Divine things, let
us cheerfully embrace that rich present which
Infinite Goodness has made us, and be thank-
ful that the day-spring from on high hath vis-
ited us. “Because there was no wisdom on
the earth,” says Lactantius, “He sent a teach-
er from heaven.” Him let us follow as our
guide: for he who follows his direction shall
not walk in darkness.
Let us pray.
INFINITE, Eternal Creator and King of heav-
en and earth, bodies and spirits, who, being
unmoved thyself, movest all things, and
changest them at thy pleasure, while thou
remainest thyself altogether unchangeable;
who supportest all things by thy powerful
hand, and governest them by thy nod, the
greatest as well as the least ; so that the
greatest are no burden to thee, nor dost thou
contemn the least. Behold ! the nations be-
fore thee are as the drop of the bucket, and
like the small dust of the balance; and these
isles of ours, with all the rest in the world,
are, in thy sight, but a very little thing. Yet
thou deignest to be present in our assemblies,
and take notice of our affairs, which are very
inconsiderable. Let our souls adore thee, and
fall down, with the greatest humility, at the
footstool of thy throne, continually entreating
thy grace, and constantly offering thee glory.
Our praisesadd nothing to thee; but they exalt
ourselves, enhance our happiness, and unite us
with the society of angels; yet thou receivest
them with a gracious hand, as most accepta-
ble sacrifices, and incense of a sweet-smelling
savor. Let us celebrate thee, O Lord, who
art great, and greatly to be praised. Let all
nations praise thee, from the rising of the sun
to the going down thereof. Set our hearts on
fire with the flames of thy Divine love, that
they may wholly ascend to thee as burnt-
offerings, and nothing of ours may remain
with us. O blessed transmigration, where
the blind confidence of the flesh is transform-
ed into a lively and pure faith, that has no
dependance but upon thee alone; where self.
love, and the love of the world, are exchanged
for the love of thy infinite beauty; when our
will shall centre in thine, and be altogether
absorbed by it. Let this change, O bountiful
Father, be brought about, for it is a change
only to be effected by the power of thy hand :
and as soon as our souls are made sensible of
it, thy praise shall be for ever sounded within
us, as in temples devoted to thy service.
Let thy whole church, O Lord, flourish and
rejoice in the light of thy favor. Be favora-
ble to this our university, city, and nation.
Dispel, we pray thee, the thick clouds, and
*
* Cúm nulla in terris esset sapientia, &
doctorem.
coelo misit
quiet the winds and storms; for, when they
rage most, and make the greatest noise, they
know thy voice, and obey it. Thou art the
only God of peace, who createst it with a
word, and makest righteousness and peace
mutually to kiss one another. We depend
upon thee only; and to thee alone we render
praise and glory, as far as we can, through
Jesus Christ. Amen.
-*-*=
EXHORTATION IV.
OUR life is but a point, and even less than
a point; but as it is not a mathematical point,
as they call it, not quite indivisible, when we
divide it into minute parts, it appears some-
thing considerable, and assumes the imagina-
ry appearance of a large space of time ; nay,
according to Aristotle's notion, it appears di-
visible in infinitum. Besides those common
and idle divisions of human life, into the four
stages of childhood, youth, manhood, and old
age, and into periods of ten years, which sup-
pose the yet smaller divisions of years and
months; men have many various ways of dis-
tributing the periods of their life, according
to the different occupations and studies they
have been engaged in, the remarkable events
that have happened to them, and the several
alterations and revolutions in the course of
their lives. And I doubt not but you, young
gentlemen, look upon this present instant of
time as the beginning of a new period of your
life. You have my leave to do so, provided
you seriously consider, at the same time, that
the whole of the life we live in this world is
of a frail and fleeting nature, and, in some re-
spect, nothing at all. And into whatever
parts or periods we divide it, if we consider
the miseries and lamentable calamities with
which it is fraught, the life even of a child
may seem too long ; but, if we consider the
time only, we must conclude the life of the
oldest man to be exceeding short and fleet-
Ing.
A great part of mankind no sooner look
upon themselves to be capable of worldly af.
fairs, and think on entering upon some pro-
fession suitable to manhood, but they are cut
off, in the very beginning of their course, by
an unforeseen and untimely death. And, to
be sure, this is the great distemper of young,
and even of old men, that, by their desires
and designs, they launch out a great way into
futurity, and form a series of projects for ma-
ny years to come ; while, in the meantime,
they rarely, or at least very superficially, con-
sider, how foolish and precarious it is to de-
pend upon to-morrow, and how soon this
present form of ours may disappear; how
soon we may return to our original dust ; and
that very day, as the royal prophet warns us,
our thoughts, even the wisest and best-con-
certed thoughts of the greatest men, and
most exalted princes, perish. And this I take
90
714.
EXHORTATIONS TO THE CANDIDATES
particular notice of, that no such illusion may
get possession of your minds. For it is not
the common sort of mankind only, that im-
pose upon themselves in this respect, but the
generality of those who desire to be account-
ed, not only men of learning, but also adepts
in wisdom, and actually pass for such. Not
that I would prohibit your making an early
and prudent choice, under the Divine direc-
tion, of the employment and profession of life
you intend to pursue ; nay, I would use every
argument to persuade you to make use of such
a choice, and when you have made it, to pros-
ecute the intention of it with the greatest dil-
igence and activity. I only put you upon
your guard, not to entertain many and tow-
ering hopes in this world, nor to form a long
series of connected projects; because you will
find them all more vain and fleeting than il-
lusions of the night! Some necessary means
will ſail, some favorable opportunity be miss-
ed; after all industry, the expected event may
not happen, or the thread of your life may be
cut, and thereby all your projects be rendered
abortive. And though your life should be
drawn out to ever so great a length, and
success constantly answer your expectations,
yet, you know, and I wish you would remem-
ber it, the fatal day will come at last, perhaps
when it is least expected ; that fatal and final
day, I say, will at last come, when we must
leave all our enjoyments, and all our schemes,
those we are now carrying on, and those we
have brought to perfection, as well as those
that are only begun, and those that subsist
only in hopes and ideas.
And these very arguments, which have
been used to confine your minds from indul-
ging themselves in too remote prospects, will
also serve to persuade you, in another sense,
to look much further: not with regard to
worldly enjoyments, for such prospects, strict-
ly speaking, can not be called long ; but to
look far beyond all earthly and perishing
things, to those that are heavenly and eter-
nal. And those that will not raise their eyes
to such objects, as the Apostle Peter expres-
ses it, are blind, and can not see afar off.
But of you, my dear youths, I expect better
things. I need not, I imagine, use many
words to persuade you to industry, and a con-
tinual progress in human studies and philo-
sophical learning. If the violence and infe-
licity of the times have deprived you of any
part of that period of years usually employed
in these studies at this university, you will
surely repair that loss, as soon as possible, by
your subsequent reading and application. But
if no such misfortune had happened, you are
not, I believe, ignorant, that our schools are
only intended for laying the foundations of
those studies upon which years, and indefat-
igable industry, are to raise the superstruc-
ture of more complete erudition : , which, by
the accession of the Divine Spirit, may be
consecrated into a temple for God. And this
is what I would recommend to your esteem,
and your earnest desires, beyond any other
study whatever, That you may be holy, be-
cause our God is holy ; that, when you leave
this university, those with whom you con-
verse, may not find you puffed up with pride,
on account of a little superficial learning, nor
bigoted, talkative, or fond of entering into un-
seasonable disputes; but consider you all as
patterns and examples of piety, purity, tem-
perance, modesty, and all Christian virtues:
particularly that humility which shone so
brightly in Christ himself, and which he ear-
nestly exhorts all his disciples to learn from
him. I will not suspect that any of you will
turn out to be an immodest person, a glutton,
or drunkard, or in any shape impious and
profane ; but I earnestly exhort and beseech
you, my dear young men, to make it, above
all other things, your principal study, to have
your hearts purged from all impure and igno-
ble love of the world and the flesh, that in
this earth you may live to God only ; and
then, to be sure, when you remove out of it,
you will live with him for ever in heaven.
May the honorary title you have this day
received be happy and auspicious ! But I
earnestly pray the Father of lights that he
would deign to bestow on you a title more
solid and exalted than it is in the power of
man to give, that you may be called the sons
of God, and that your conversation may be
suitable to so great a name, and so glorious
a Father.
Let us pray.
ETERNAL KING ! Thy throne is established
and immoveable from everlasting, and will
continue so throughout all the ages of eterni-
ty. Before the mountains were broughtforth,
before thou hadst formed the earth and the
world, even from everlasting to everlasting,
thou art God. All things that exist, whether
visible or invisible, derive from thee their be-
ing, and all that they possess: and they all,
from the least to the greatest, are subservient to
thy purposes, who art their supreme King and
Father. Many of them, indeed, act without
knowledge or design, yet serve thee with a
constant and unerring obedience; others pay
their homage from principles of reason and
inclination; and all the rest are forced to pro-
mote thy intentions, though by constraint and
against their wills. Thou art great, O Lord,
thou art great, and greatly to be praised, and
of thy greatness there is no end. The heav-
ens are far raised from the earth, but thy
majesty is much farther exalted above all our
thoughts and conceptions. Impress, we pray
thee, on our hearts, most bountiful Father, a
profound sense of our meanness and insignifi-
cancy; and make us acceptable to thee,
through thy grace, in thy beloved Jesus, blot-
ting out all our sins by the blood of his cross,
and purifying our hearts by the effusion of
thy Spirit from on high. Illuminate, most
gracious God, this assembly of ours, by the
light of thy Divine favor, and let thy effect-
FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS.
715
ual blessing, we pray thee, attend the work we
are now employed about, by thy approbation,
and the gracious disposition of thy providence,
and may the result of all be to the glory of
thy name, through Jesus Christ Our Lord.
Amen.
sºmeºmºsº
EXHORTATION W.
THE complaint with regard to the vanity of
all perishing and transitory enjoyments,
which has been long general among man-
kind, is indeed just and well-founded; but it
is no less true, that the Vanity which resides
in the heart of man himself, exceeds every
thing of that kind we observe in the other
parts of the visible creation; for, among all
the creatures that we see around us, we can
find nothing so fleeting and inconstant ; it
flutters hither and thither, and forsaking that
only perfect good which is truly suited to its
nature and circumstances, grasps at phantoms
and shadows of happiness, which it pursues
with a folly more than childish.
Man wanders about on this earth; he hopes,
he wishes, he seeks, he gropes and feels about
him ; he desires, he is hot, he is cold, he is
blind, and complains that evil abounds every-
where ; yet, he is himself the cause of those
evils which rage in the world, but most of
all in his own breast ; and therefore, be-
ing tossed between the waves thereof, that
roll continually within and without him, he
leads a restless and disordered life, until he be
at last swallowed up in the unavoidable gulf
of death. It is, moreover, the shame and
folly of the human race, that the greatest
part of them do not resolve upon any fixed
and settled method of life, but, like the brute
creatures, live and die without design, and
without proposing any reasonable end. For
how few are there, who seriously and fre-
quently consider with themselves, whence
they come, whither they are going, and what
is the purpose of their life : who are dai-
ly reviewing the state of their own minds,
and often descend into themselves, that they
may as frequently ascend, by their thoughts
and meditations, to their exalted Father, and
their heavenly country; who take their sta-
tion upon temporal things, and view those
that are eternal ' Yet, these are the only
men that can be truly said to live, and they
alone can be accounted wise.
And to this it is, my dear youths, that I
would willingly engage your souls; nay, I
heartily wish they were carried thither, by
the fiery chariots of celestial wisdom. Let
the common sort of mankind admire mean
things; let them place their hopes on riches,
honors, and arts, and spend their lives in
the pursuit of them ; but let your souls be
inflamed with a far higher ambition. Yet I
would not altogether prohibit you these pur-
suits: I only desire you to be moderate in
them. These enjoyments are neither great
in themselves, nor permanent ; but it is sur-
prising, how much vanity is inflated by them.
What a conceited, vain nothing is the crea-
ture we call man For, because few are ca-
pable to discern true blessings, which are sol-
id and intrinsically beautiful, therefore the su-
perficial ones, and such as are of no value at
all, are catched at ; and those who in any
measure attain to the possession of them, are
puffed up and elated thereby.
If we consider things as they are, it is an
evidence of a very wrong turn of mind, to boast
of titles and fame; as they are no part of our-
selves, nor can we depend upon them. But
he that is elevated with a fond conceit of his
own knowledge, is a stranger to the nature
of things, and particularly to himself; since
he knows not that the highest pitch of hu-
man knowledge ought, in reality, rather to
be called ignorance. How small and incon-
siderable is the extent of knowledge . Even
the most contemptible things in nature, are
sufficient to expose the greatness of our igno-
rance. And with respect to Divine things,
who dares to deny, that the knowledge man-
kind has of them is next to nothing 2 Be-
cause the weak eyes of our understanding,
confined, as they are, within such narrow
houses of clay, can not bear the piercing light
of divine things; therefore, the Fountain of
all wisdom hath thought proper to communi-
cate such imperfect discoveries of himself, as
are barely sufficient to direct our steps to the
superior regions of perfect light. And who-
ever believes this truth, will, doubtless, make
it his chief care and principal study, constant-
ly to follow this lamp of divine light that
shines in darkness, and not to deviate from it
either to the right hand or the left. It is, in-
deed, my opinion, that no man of ingenuity
ought to despise the study of philosophy, or
the knowledge of languages, or grammar it
self: though to be sure a more expeditious
and successful method of teaching them were
much to be wished. But what I would rec-
ommend with the greatest earnestness, and
persuade you to, if possible, is, that you would
inseparably unite with such measures of learn-
ing and improvement of your minds as you
can attain, purity of religion, Divine love,
moderation of soul, and an agreeable, indffen-
sive behavior. For you are not ignorant
what a low and empty figure the highest at-
tainments in human sciences must make, if
they be compared with the dignity and dura-
tion of the soul of man : for, however consid-
erable they may be in themselves, yet, with
regard to their use, and their whole design,
they are confined within the short space of
this perishing life. But the soul which rea-
sons, which is employed in learning and
teaching, in a few days will for ever bid fare-
well to all these things, and remove to anoth-
er country. O, how inconsiderable are all
arts and sciences, all eloquence and philoso-
phy, when compared with a cautious concern
716
EXHORTATIONS TO THE CANDIDATES
that our last exit out of this world may be
happy and auspicious, and that we may de-
part out of this life candidates for immortali-
ty, at which we can never arrive but by the
beautiful way of holiness.
Let us pray.
INFINITE and Eternal God who inhabitest
thick darkness and light inaccessible, whom
no mortal hath seen, or can see; yet all thy
works evidently declare and proclaim thy
wisdom, thy power, and thy infinite goodness:
And, when we contemplate these thy perfec-
tions, what is it our souls can desire, but that
they may love thee, worship thee, serve thee,
for ever proclaim thy praise, and celebrate thy
exalted name, which is above all praises, and
all admiration ? Thy throne is constantly
surrounded by thousands and ten thousands
of glorified spirits, who continually adore
thee and cry out without ceasing, Holy, holy,
holy, Lord God Almighty, who was, who is,
and who is to come. Let others seek what
they will, and find and embrace what they
can ; may we have always this one fixed and
settled purpose, that it is good for us to draw
near to God. Let the seas roar, the earth be
shaken, and all things go to ruin and confus-
ion; yet, the soul that adheres to God, will
remain safe and quiet, and shall not be mov-
ed for ever. O blessed soul that has thee for
its rest, and all its salvation . It shall be
like a tree planted by the rivers of water; it
shall not fear when heat cometh, nor shall it
be uneasy in a year of drought. It is our
earnest petition and prayer, O Father, that
thy hands may loosen all our chains, and ef-
fectually deliver our souls from all the snares
and allurements of the world and the flesh ;
and that, by that same bountiful and most
owerful hand of thine, they may be for ever
ūnited to thee through thy only begotten Son,
who is our union and our peace. Be favora-
bly present, most gracious God, with this as-
sembly of ours, that whatever we undertake,
in obedience to thy will, may be carried to
perfection by the aid of thy grace, and tend
to the glory of thy name, through Jesus
Christ our Lord. Amen.
EXHORTATION WI.
I AM not ignorant, that it is one of the com-
mon arts of life, to set off our own things
with all the pomp we can ; and, if there is
any worth in them, by no means to depreci-
ate it, but rather to endeavor, with all our
might, to enhance their value as much as
possible: nay, those of them which are quite
vain and worthless, we use to magnify with
pompous expressions, and daub with false
colors, and to do otherwise is reckoned a kind
of rustic simplicity. But you, young gentle-
men, who are acquainted with my manner,
will, I imagine, easily forgive this indiffer-
ence of mine ; and, therefore, I say, if there
are any who despise these performances of
ours, we leave them at full liberty, for we
ourselves held them in contempt before: but
to speak freely, together with them we un-
dervalued all worldly things; they are all
made of the same mean materials [IIavra pia
Kévis) O life, short with regard to duration,
long in consideration of thy miseries, involv-
ed in darkness, beset with snares, still fluctua-
ting between false joys and real torments,
groundless hopes and fears equally imaginary,
yet foolishly, and even to distraction, loved
by most " We will not die, and yet, we know
not how to live. Our present possessions are
loathsome as food to a man in a fever, and we
greedily catch at future enjoyments, which,
when they come to be present, will be receiv-
with the same indifference: for, among the
advantages of this fleeting life, nothing is
equally agreeable to those who have it in pos-
session, and those who have it only in desire
and hope.
We are all in general of such a nature, that
we are weary of ourselves, and, what we
lately preferred to everything else, upon ex-
perience we reject. This inconstancy is
undoubtedly a sign of a mind distempered,
forcibly drawn away from its centre, and sep-
arated from its only durable rest. , Nor need
you go far, young gentlemen, to look for an
instance of this distemper : let any of you de-
scend into himself (which very few do, and
even they but rarely), he will find it within
him ; upon a very slight inquiry, he will sure-
ly be sensible of it. For passing other consid-
erations, with what fervent wishes have you,
in your hearts, longed for this day ! Yet I
forewarn you, that all your pleasure will
either die with the day itself, which is now
fast drawing to a close, or but for a very short
time survive it. And, as commonly happens,
it will be succeeded by the anxious cares of
beginning life, as it were, anew ; or which is
much more grievous and unhappy, and from
which I earnestly pray you may be all effect-
ually preserved, by those temptations and al-
lurements of vice, which tend to debauch and
ruin you. For these allurements, after the
manner of some robbers, attack the unwary
and inexperienced with blandishments and
caresses, that thereby they may have an op-
portunity to undo them. If therefore, as soon
as ye enter upon a life of freedom, those de-
ceitful and deadly pleasures of sense tempt
you with their delusive smiles, I would put
you in mind, how unworthy it is of a free and
generous mind, especially that of a Christian,
to become an abject slave, and submit to the
most shameful bondage; how disgraceful and
wretched a choice it is, to become the slave
of a mad, distracted master 5% and how much
more generous and exalted is the pleasure of
despising them all, and trampling them under
foot, when they come in competition with the
pure and permanent delights of Divine love.
As to exalted degrees of honor, and heaps
* AoûXov yive;6at trapaºpovoivros degrárov.
FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS.
717
of riches, the idols of all ranks of mankind
which they worship with the rage of enthu-
siasm and madness, we may not only apply
to them what was observed of old concern-
ing Hercules's statue, and say, “They have
nothing Divine in them ;”* but also, that they
are entirely void of real goodness. Even
those who have the greatest experience of
them, are at last obliged to own this : the
force of truth extorts the confession, though
they make it with regret, and against their
will. All the beauty and brightness of these
idols resemble the decorations of a stage,
that dazzle the eyes of the vulgar; and the
enjoyment of them is, in reality, but a splen-
did kind of slavery, and gilded misery. It is
a pathetic expression of St. Bernard, “O am-
bition, the torture of the ambitious, how hap-
pens it, that though thou tormentest all, thou
yet makest thyself agreeable to all ?”f O
how easily does even the least glimpse of
eternal and infinite beauty rase out of the
mind all the impressions made upon it by
the objects we daily converse with on this
earth, and turn its admiration of them into
contempt and disdain.
But if any one, having thoroughly exam-
ined and despised these shadows, resolves
solely to pursue a more complete knowledge
of things, and follow the streams of learning,
we can not deny, that he judges most justly;
yet, after all, he must know, if he is wise, or
at least he ought to know, that he may be
wise, what vanity and superfluity is to be met
with even here :# for often, when one has
applied himself to his books and studies with
the greatest assiduity, and almost spent his
life upon them, all his pains evaporate into
smoke, and the labor of years is entirely lost.
And, what is most of all to be lamented, this
is sometimes the case with respect to theol-
ogy, which is the chief of all arts and scien-
ces, as so large a portion of that vineyard
is still possessed with briers and thorns.
How many are the disputes and controver-
sies, how many the trifling arguments and
cavils, which possibly may have something
of the sharpness of thorns, but undoubtedly
a great deal of their barrenness and their
hurtful quality A philosopher of old, se-
verely reproves the sophisters of his time
in these words: “What was formerly the
love of wisdom, is now become the love of
words.”|| We, to be sure, may substitute in
place of this, a complaint still more bitter,
that what was theology before, is now be-
come foolish talking; and that many of our
divines, though they serve one God, and that
the God of peace, yet split into parties upon
the lightest occasions, and with great impie-
ty divide the whole world into factions. And
I am much afraid, this evil, in a great meas-
ure, derives its original from the education of
youth in schools and colleges. For the most
part of men manage this business, as if dis-
puting was the end of learning, as fighting
is the design of going to war: hence the
youth when they enter the school, begin dis-
puting, which never ends but with their life.
Death imposes silence, and so, at last, “these
fierce passions of their minds, and these in-
veterate contentions, are composed to rest,
by the weight of a little dust thrown upon
them.”*
As for you, young gentlemen, if my earn-
est wishes and sincere advice can have any
weight with you, you will early extricate
yourselves out of these flames of contention,
that your minds, being lighted up by the
pure and celestial fire of the Divine Spirit,
may shine forth in holiness, and burn with
the most fervent charity.
Let us pray.
HoNor and praise is due to thee, O infi-
nite God. This is the universal voice of all
the blessed spirits on high, and all the saints
on earth: worthy art thou, O Lord, to receive
glory, and honor, and power, because thou
hast created all things, and for thy pleasure
they are. We, here before thee, with united
hearts and affections offer thee, as we can,
the sacrifice of gratitude, love and praise.
How much are we indebted to thee, for our-
selves, and for all that we possess! For in
thee we live, move, and have our being.
Thou hast redeemed us from our sins, hav-
ing given the Son of thy love as a sacrifice
and ransom for our souls: the chastisement
of our peace fell upon him, and by his stripes
we are healed. On this consideration, we ac-
knowledge we are no longer at our own dispo-
sal, since we are bought with a price, and so
very great a price, that we may glorify thee,
O Father, and thy Son, in our souls and our
bodies, which are so justly thine. May we
devote ourselves to thee, through the whole
remaining part of our life, and disdain the
impure and ignoble slavery of sin, the world
and the flesh, that in all things we may de-
mean ourselves as becomes the sons of God,
and the heirs of thy celestial kingdom, and
make daily, greater progress in our journey
toward the happy possession thereof.
Bless thy church, and our nation, and this
our university : may it be thine, we pray
thee. We entreat that thou wouldst become
our father, our protector, and our supreme
teacher, who hast thy chair in heaven, and
teachest the hearts of men on this earth.
May the youth flourish under thy instruction,
that they may be not only learned, but es-
pecially upright, pious, and true Christians,
entirely devoted to the honor of thy name,
through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
* Qe očev etc. 9siov.
f O ! ambitio, ambientium crux, quomodo omnes
torquens omnibus places !
oMAa £art keva kai Öep spya.
| Qnge philosophia fuit, facta philologia est.
* Hi motus animorum, atque haec certamina tanta
Pulveris exigui jactu compressa quiescunt.
VIRGIL., Geor iv., 8, 1.6.
718
EXHORTATIONS TO THE CANDIDATES
EXHORTATION VII.
THESE academical exercises of ours are, to
be sure, no great matter, nor do we make any
high account of them ; yet, after all, we set
no higher, perhaps even a less value upon
the bustling affairs of mankind, which make
a much greater noise, and the farces that are
acted upon the more exalted theatres of the
world: which, to speak my sentiments in a
few words, are for the most part outwardly
more pompous than these of ours, but in-
wardly equally vain, and more insignificant
than the busy amusements of “children play-
ing on the sands, and eagerly building little
houses, which, with giddy levity, they in-
stantly pull down again.” Or, if you chose
to be more severe upon the fruitless labors
of mankind, and their busy and irregular
motions backward, and forward, and from
one place to another, you may, with a great
man, who knew all these by experience,
compare them to the fluttering of frightened
jlies, the toilsome hurry of the ants, and the
motions of puppets.f But he that, amid all
the confusions and commotions which hap-
pen in human affairs here below, has re-
course to Divine contemplation and the hopes
of eternity, as the lofty impregnable tower
of true wisdom, “is the only person that en-
joys uninterrupted ease and tranquillity, like
the heavenly bodies, which constantly move
on in their orbits, and are never, by any vio-
lence, diverted from their course.”f
And indeed, what wonder is it, that he can
easily view all the dreadful appearances of
this wretched life with a resolute and steady
countenance, who, by frequent interviews and
daily conversation with death itself, which
we call the king of terrors, has rendered it
familiar to him, and thereby not only divest-
ed it of its terrors, but also placed in it a
beautiful, pleasant, and quite amiable light.
By this means, he dies daily; and doubtless,
before he suffers a natural death, he dies in a
more exalted sense of the word, by with-
drawing, as far as is possible, his mind from
the encumbrance of earthly things, and even
While it lodges in the body, weaning it from
all the worldly objects that are placed about
him. And, in this very sense, philosophy of
old was most properly called the meditation
of death,' which the Roman orator has, in my
opinion, explained with great propriety, and
the precision of a philosopher. “What is it
we do,” say he, “when we withdraw the
mind from pleasure, that is, the body, from
Our means and substance that is the servant
* Qs ºre ris pāuadov ovváyn rats àyxt 6axar, n,
'Os àret oiv troinaev d6üppara, vnmicrototy
Alp aibus ovvæxevge Toow kai xepow 40upov.
f Mvičíow strongevov čtadpopas pupptrov taxatmopia;
Kai ax60ſhopías kai atyNAápia veupograq roſpeva.
# Otia solus agit, sicut coelestia semper
Inconcussa suo volvuntor sidera lapsu. Luc., lib. ii.
|| Mexérn flavárov.
§ ºppikočearárnv šikova.
of the body, that provides for its wants from
the commonwealth, and every kind of busi-
ness: what is it we then do, I say, but recall
it to itself, and oblige it to stay at home 2
Now to withdraw the mind from the body, is
nothing else but to learn to die.” Let us,
therefore, reason thus, if you will take my
advice, and separate ourselves from our bod-
ies; that is, let us accustom ourselves to die:
this even while we sojourn on this earth, will
be to the soul a life like to that which it will
enjoy in heaven ; and, being delivered from
these fetters, we shall move at a better rate,
the course of our souls will be less retarded
in our journey to that happy place, at which
when we arrive, we can then, and then only,
be truly said to live. For this life is but a
kind of death, the miseries whereoſ I could
paint, if it were seasonable ; but, to be sure,
it was most justly called a life of the great-
est miseryf by Dionysius the Areopagite, or
whoever was the author of that book which
goes under his name.
And indeed, young gentlemen, I am of
opinion, that such a view and meditation of
death, will not be unsuitable, or improper,
even for you, though you are in the prime of
life, and your minds in their full vigor: may,
I would gladly hope, you yourselves will not
imagine it would, nor be at all offended at
me, as if, by mentioning that inauspicious
word unseasonably, I disturbed your present
joy, drew a kind of black cloud over this
bright day of festivity, or seem to mix among
your laurels a branch of the hated cypress.
For a wise man would not willingly owe his
joy to madness, nor think it a pleasure fool-
ishly to forget the situation of his affairs.
The wise man alone feels true joy: and
real wisdom is the attainment of a Christian
only, who bears with life, but hopes for
death, and passes through all the storms and
tempests of the former with an undauntedness
of mind, but with the most fervent wishes
looks for the latter as the secure port and the
fair havenst in the highest sense of the ex-
pression ; whose mind is humble, and, at the
same time, exalted, neither depending upon
foreign, that is, external advantages, nor
puffed up with his own ; and neither eleva-
ted nor depressed by any turns or vicissitudes
of fortune.
He is the wise man, who relinquishes
things as they really are; who is not, with
the common sort of mankind, that are al-
ways children, terrified by bug-bears, nor
pleased with painted rattles: who has a
greatness of soul, vastly superior to all fading
and perishing things; who judges of his im-
* Quid aliud agimus, cum a voluptate, id est a
corpore, cum familiari quae ministra, est et famula
corporis, cum a republica cum a negotio omni severa-
mus animum, quid tum agimus (inquam) nisi illum ad
Seipsum advocamus, et secum esse cogimus? Secer-
mere autem a corpore animum, necquicquam aliud est
quam emori discere.
f TIoxviraffea rarmy ſomy.
f KaNoffs Aigevas.
FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS.
719
provements by his life, and thinks he knows
everything he does not covet, and everything
The only thing he desires,
he does not fear.
is the favor and countenance of the Supreme
King; the only thing he fears, is his displeas-
ure. And, without doubt, a mind of this cast
must, of necessity, be the habitation of con-
stant serenity, exalted joy, and gladness
springing from on high. And this is the
man, that is truly, possessed of that tvöypſaw,
kai ya)\nvnv—tranquillity and happy disposition
of mind, which the philosophers boast of, the
divines recommend, but few attain. And
though he will neither willingly suffer him-
self to be called a philosopher, nor a philolo-
gist, yet he is, in reality, esdaobos, well versed in
the things of God, and, by a kind of Divine
influence and instruction, has attained to the
light of pure and peaceable truth: where he
passes his days in the greatest quietness and
serenity, far above the cloudy and stormy re-
gions of controversy and disputation.
If any one of you has been thus instructed;
he has certainly attained the highest of all
arts, and has entered upon the most glorious
liberty, even before he hath received any uni-
versity degree. But the rest, though they are
presently to have the title of master of arts,
still continue a silly, servile set of men, un-
der a heavy yoke of bondage, whereby even
their minds will be cramped with oppressive
laws, far more intolerable than any discipline,
however severe. None of you, I imagine, is
so excessively blinded with self conceit, so
ignorant of the nature of things, and unac-
quainted with himself, as to dream that he is
already a philosopher, or be puffed up with
an extravagant opinion of his own knowl-
edge, because he has gone through the ordi-
nary exercises at the university; though, to
speak the truth, the philosophy which pre-
vails in the schools, is of a vain, airy nature,
and more apt to inspire the mind with pride,
than to improve it. As it is my earnest
prayer, so it is also the object of my hope,
that you will retire from this seminary, with
your minds excited to a keen and wholesome
thirst after true erudition, rather than blown
up with the wildfire of science, falsely so
called ; and what, above all other attain-
ments, is of greatest consequence, that you
will leave us, deeply affected with the most
ardent love of heavenly wisdom. Whatever
may be your fate with respect to other things,
it is my earnest request, that it be your highest
ambition, and your principal study, to be true
Christians; that is, to be humble, meek, pure,
holy, and followers of your most auspicious
Captain, the Lamb, wherever he goeth. . For
he that followeth him shall not walk in dark-
mess, but be conducted, through the morning
light of Divine grace to the meridian and
never-ending brightness of glory.
Let us pray.
ETERNAL Father of mercies and of lights,
the only rest of the immortal souls which thou
hast created, and their never-failing consola-
tion. into what by-paths of error do our
souls divert, and, to what dangers are they
exposed on every hand, when they stray away
from thee! But while they keep within thy
hiding-place, O Most High, they are safe un-
der the shadow of thy wings. O how happy
are they, and how well do they live, who
pass their whole lives in that secret abode,
where they may continually refresh them.
selves with the delicious fruits of thy love,
and show forth thy praise ! where they may
taste and see that thou art good, O Lord, and
be thoroughly persuaded of the immense
riches of thy bounty, which all our miseries
can not exceed, nor our poverty exhaust;
nay, which the constant effusion of them
upon the whole universe, and all its parts,
can not in the least diminish. As for us who
are before thee, the most unworthy of all thy
Creatures, yet, at the same time, the most ex-
cessively loaded with all the instances of thy
goodness, can we avoid crying out with the
united voices of our hearts, Let praise be as-
cribed to the Lord, because he is good, and
his mercy endureth for ever. Who shall de-
clare the great and wonderful works of God?
Who shall shall show forth his praise 2 Who
ruleth by his power for ever, and his eyes ob-
serve the nations, that the rebellious may
not exalt themselves. Who restores our
souls to life, and suffers not our feet to be
moved ? But, on the other hand, alas ! how
justly may our songs be interrupted with bit-
ter lamentations, that, under such strong and
constant rays of his bounty, our hearts are so
gold toward him O how faint and languid
is our love to him . How very little, or near
to nothing, is the whole of that flame which
we feel within us! And, as that love fails
within us, we misplace our affections upon the
things around us; and, as we follow vanity,
we become vain and miserable at the same
time. But may thy Spirit, O Lord, whom
We humbly and earnestly beg of thee, de-
scending into our hearts, inspire us thoroughly
with life, vigor, and celestial purity
Please to enlighten thy church throughout
the whole habitable world, and particularly in
these islands, with the continued light of thy
countenance. If thou apply thy healing hand,
we shall presently be whole: nor need we look
to any quarter for other remedies than those
we have always found to be more powerful
than our most obstinate distempers. Bless
this city, and this celebrated university.
Grant, most gracious Father, that the num-
bers of youth we send out from it this day,
and every year, may, by thy effectual grace,
be consecrated and devoted to thy service.
Forbid, we pray thee, that they should either
be the means of spreading pollution among
thy people, or suffer themselves to be tainted
with the infection of a wicked world ; but let
this fountain of learning be continually en-
riched with thy heavenly influences, that it
may constantly supply pure and limpid
720
EXHORTATION TO THE CANDIDATES, &c.
streams for the welfare and improvement
of thy church and people, to the glory of thy
exalted name, through our Lord Jesus Christ;
to whom, with thee, and the Holy Spirit, be
}. praise, and glory, world without end.
IſleIl.
EXHORTATION VIII.
AMID these amusements, we are unhappily
losing a day. Yet, some part of the weight
of this complaint is removed when we con-
sider, that, while the greatest part of man-
kind are bustling in crowds and places of
traffic, or, as they would have us believe, in
affairs of great importance, we are trifling our
time more innocently than they. But what
should hinder us from closing this last scene
in a serious manner, that is, from turning our
eyes to more Divine objects, whereby, though
we are fatigued with other matters, we may
terminate the work of this day, and the day
itself, agreeably: as the beams of the sun
use to give more than ordinary delight when
he is near his setting ?
You are now initiated into the philosophy,
such as it is, that prevails in the schools, and,
I imagine, intend, with all possible despatch,
to apply to higher studies. But O ! how pit-
iful and scanty are all those things which be-
set us before, behind, and on every side The
bustling we observe, is nothing but the hur-
rying of ants eagerly engaged in their little
labors. The mind must surely have degen-
erated, and forgotten its original as effectu-
ally as if it had drank of the river Lethe, iſ,
extricating itself out of all these mean con-
cerns and designs, as so many snares laid for
it, and rising above the whole of this visible
world, it does not return to its Father's bo-
Som, where it may contemplate his eternal
beauty, where contemplation will inflame
love, and love be crowned with the posses-
sion of the beloved object. But, in the con-
templation of this glorious object, how great
caution and moderation of mind is necessary,
that, by prying presumptuously into his secret
councils or his nature, and rashly breaking
into the sanctuary of light,” we be not quite
involved in darkness! And, with regard to
what the infinite, independent, and necessa-
rily existent Being has thought proper to com-
municate to us concerning himself, and we
are concerned to know, even that is by no
means to be obscured with curious, imperti-
nent questions, nor perplexed with the arro-
gance of disputation; because, by such means,
instead of enlarging our knowledge, we are
in the fair way to know nothing at all ; but
readily to be received by humble faith, and
entertained with meek and pious affections.
And if, in these notices of him that are com-
municated to us, we meet with anything ob-
scure and hard to be understood, such diffi-
culties would be happily got over, not by per-
plexed controversies, but by constant and fer-
vent prayer. “He will come to understand,”
says admirably well the famous bishop of
Hippo [Augustine], “who knocks by prayer :
not he who, by quarrelling, makes a noise at
the gate of truth.” But what can we, who
are mortal creatures, understand with regard
to the inexpressible Being we now speak of,
especially while we sojourn in these dark
prisons of clay, but only this, that we can by
no means comprehend him 2 For though, in
thinking of him, we remove from our idea all
sort of imperfection, and collect together ev-
ery perceivable perfection, and adorn the
whole with the highest titles, we must, after
all, acknowledge that we have said nothing,
and that our conceptions are nothing to the
purpose. Let us, therefore, in general ac-
knowledge him to be the immoveable Being
that moveth everything, the immutable God
that changeth all things at his pleasure, the
infinite and eternal Fountain of all good and
of all existence, and the Lord and sole Ruler
of the world.
If you, then, my dear youths, aspire togen-
uine Christianity, that is, the knowledge of
God and Divine things, I would have you con-
sider that the mind must first be recalled and
engaged to turn in upon itself, before it can
be raised up toward God : according to that
expression of St. Bernard, “May I return from
external things, to those that are within my-
self, and from these again rise to those that
are of a more exalted nature.”f But the great-
est part of men live abroad, and are truly
strangers at home ; you may sooner find them
anywhere than with themselves. Now, is
this not real madness, and the highest degree
of insensibility ? Yet, after all, they seem
to have some reason in their madness, when
they thus stray away from themselves, since
they can see nothing within them that by its
promising aspect can give them pleasure or
delight. Everything there is ugly, frightful,
and full of nastiness, which they would rather
be ignorant of, than be at the pains to purge
away; and therefore prefer a slothful forget-
fulness of their misery, to the trouble and la-
bor of regaining happiness. But how prepos-
terous is the most diligent study, and the high-
est knowledge, when we neglect that of our-
selves | The Roman philosopher, ridiculing
the grammarians of his time, observes, that
“they inquired narrowly into the misfortunes
of Ulysses, but were quite ignorant of their
own.”f The sentiments of a wise and pious
man are quite different, and I wish you may
adopt them. It is his principal care to be
thoroughly acquainted with himself;—he
watches over his own ways, he improves and
cultivates his heart as a garden consecrated
* Eis rà roi; poros àövra.
*
* Intelliget qui orando pulsat, non qui rixando ob-
strepit ad ostium veritatis. tº a tº
f Ab exterioribus ad interiora, ab interioribus ad
superiora ascendam. tº
f Ulyssis mala expeorant, ignorant sua.
WALEDICTORY ORATION.
721:
to the King of kings, who takes particular
delight in it ; he carefully nurses the heaven-
ly plants and flowers, and roots up all the
wild and noxious weeds, that he may be able
to say with the greater confidence, Let my be-
loved come into his own garden, and be pleased
to eat of his fruits. And when, upon this in-
vitation, the great King, in the fulness of his
goodness, descends into the mind, the soul
may then easily ascend with him, as it were,
in a chariot of fire, and look down upon the
earth, and all earthly things, with contempt
and disdain. “Then rising above the rainy
regions, it sees the storms falling beneath its
feet, and tramples upon the hidden thunder.”
Let us pray.
WHATEVER satisfaction we look for with-
out thee, O heavenly Father, is mere delusion
and vanity. Yet, though we have so often
experienced this, we have not, to this day,
learned to renounce this vain and fruitless la-
bor, that we may depend upon thee, who
alone canst give full and complete satisfac-
tion to the souls of men. We pray, therefore,
that, by thy Almighty hand, thou wouldst so
effectually join and unite our hearts to thee,
that they may never be separated any more.
How unhappy are they who forsake thee, and
whose hearts depart from thy ways | They
shall be like shrubs in the desert; they shall
not see when good cometh, but dwell in a
parched and barren land. Blessed, on the
contrary, is he who hath placed his confi-
dence in thee: he shall be like a tree planted
by the rivers of water; he shall not be afraid
When heat cometh, nor be uneasy in the time
of drought. Take from us, O Lord, whatever
earthly enjoyments thou shalt think proper:
there is one thing will abundantly make up
all our losses; let Christ dwell in our hearts
by faith, and the rays of thy favor continually
refresh us in the face of thine anointed; in
this event, we have nothing to ask, but with
grateful minds shall for ever celebrate thy
bounty, and all our bones shall say, “Who
is like unto thee, O Lord, who is like unto
thee ?”
Let thy church be glad in thee, and all in
this nation, and everywhere throughout the
world who regard and love thy name. By the
power and efficacy of the gospel, may their
number be daily augmented, and let the gifts
of thy grace be also increased in them all.
Bless this university ; let it be like a garden
watered by thy heavenly hand, that thy ten-
der shoots may grow, and in due time produce
abundant fruits, to the eternal honor of thy
most glorious name, through our Lord Jesus
Christ. Amen.
W A L E I) I C T 0 R Y 0 R A T I () N.
THOUGH this, I imagine, is the last address
I shall ever have occasion to make to you, I
will not detain you long from your studies, nor
encroach on the time allowed you for recrea-
tion. This is, to be sure, the first time that
some of you have heard me ; but I have a
great many others to bear witness of the con-
stant design of all my dissertations in this
place. They will testify that the intention
of all my discourses was, that the form of
sound words, that is, the Christian doctrine,
and consequently the fear and love of God,
might not only be impressed, but also engra-
ven upon your hearts in lasting and indelible
characters: and that you might not only ad-
mit as a truth, but also pay the highest re-
gard to this indisputable maxim, that “piety
and religion is the only real good among
men.”f Moreover, that your minds might
be the less encumbered in their application
to this grand study of religion, and the more
expeditious in their progress therein, I con-
stantly endeavored, with all possible warmth,
to divert you from those barren and thorny
questions and disputes that have infected the
* Celsior exurgens pluviis nimbosque cadentes,
Sub pedibus cernens, et coeca tonitrua calcans.
f'Or: #v kai uávov Šv dv60%rous dyadév i čvačbeta-
whole of theology; and this at a time when
the greatest part of divines and professors,
and those of no small reputation, engaging
furiously in such controversies, have split
into parties, and unhappily divided the whole
world. It was my constant practice to estab-
lish those great and uncontroverted articles
of our holy religion, which are but few and
clear; some part whereof are confirmed by
the common consent of nations, and of all the
human race; and all the rest, by the unani-
mous voice of the whole Christian world. Of
the first sort are those we have often advanced
in treating of the being and perfections of the
One Supreme and Eternal principle, and the
production of all things by him ; the continu-
al preservation and government of the world
by his providence; the law of God given to.
mankind, and the rewards and punishments
annexed to it. The other class of the grand
articles of religion are indeed peculiar to:
Christian philosophy, but believed in common.
by all the professors of that religion. These
are the great foundations of our faith, and of
all our hope and joy, with regard to the in-
carnation of the Son of God, his death and
resurrection for the destruction of sin, and
consequently of death ; his ascension into the
º
WALEDICTORY ORATION.
highest heavens with that same flesh of ours
in which he died, and his exaltation there
above all ranks of angels, dominions, and
thrones, &c.; whence we expect he will re-
turn in great glory in that day, when he will
be glorious in all his saints, and admired in
those that believe. As many, therefore, as
desire to receive him in this last manifesta-
tion, with joy and exultation, must of neces-
sity be holy, and, in conformity to their most
perfect and glorious Head, sober, pious, up-
right, and live in full contempt of this perish-
ing, transitory world, their own mortal flesh,
and the sordid pleasures of both : in a word,
all the enjoyments which the mean and ser-
vile admire, they must trample under foot
and despise. For, whoever will strive for
this victory, and strive so as at last to obtain
it, the Lord will own for his servant, and the
great Master will acknowledge him for his
disciple. He will attain a likeness to God in
this earth, and, after a short conflict, will tri-
umph in the Divine presence for ever. These
are the doctrines which it is our interest to
know, and in the observation of which our
happiness will be secured. To these you
will turn your thoughts, young gentlemen, if
you are wise ; nay, to these you ought to give
due attention, that you may be wise. Those
phantoms we catch at, fly away; this shadow
of a life we now live, is likewise on the wing.
Those things that are without the verge of
sense, and above its reach, are the only solid
and lasting enjoyments. “Why are ye fond
of these earthly things,” says St. Bernard,
“which are neither true riches, nor are they
yours? If they are yours,” continues he,
“take them with you.” And Lactantius
admirably well observes, that “Whoever pre-
fers the life of the soul, must of necessity de-
spise that of the body; nor can he aspire to
the highest good, unless he despise advan-
tages of an inferior kind. For the all-wise
God did not choose that we should attain to
immortality in a soft, indolent way, but that
We should gain that inexpressible reward of
eternal life, with the highest difficulty and se-
Verest labor.”f And that you may not be dis-
couraged, remember the great Redeemer of
souls, your exalted Captain, hath gone before
you, and we have to do with an enemy already
conquered. , Let us only follow him with
courage and activity, and we have no ground
to doubt of victory. And indeed it is a victory
truly worthy of a Christian, to subdue the
barbarous train of our appetites, and subject
them to the empire of reason and religion;
while, on the other hand, it is the most
.* Quid terrena haec amplectimini, qua nec veræ
divitiae sunt, nec vestrae 2 Si vestrae sunt, tollite vo-
biscum. *
f Quisquis anima vitam maluerit, corporis vitam
contemnat necesse est, nec aliter aspirare ad sum-
mum poterit bonum, nisi quge sunt ima despexerit.
Noluit enim sapientissimus Deus, nos immortalitatem
delicate ac molliter assequi, sedad illud vitae aeternae
inenarrabile praemium summa cum difficultate et mag-
nis laboribus pervenire.
shameful bondage, to have the more Divine
part of our composition meanly subjected to
an ignoble, earthly body. Now, this victory
can only be secured by steadfast believing,
vigorous opposition to our spiritual enemies,
unwearied watching, and incessant prayer.
Let prayer be not only the key that opens the
day, and the lock that shuts out the night;
but let it be also, from morning to night, our
staff and stay in all our labors, and enable us
to go cheerfully up into the mount of God.
Prayer brings consolation to the languishing
soul, drives away the devil, and is the great
medium whereby all grace and peace is com-
municated to us. With regard to your read-
ing, let it be your particular care to be famil-
iarly acquainted with the sacred Scriptures
above all other books whatever ; for thence
you will truly derive light for your direction,
and sacred provisions for your support on your
journey. In subordination to these, you may
also use the writings of pious men that are
agreeable to them, for these also you may im-
prove to your advantage; and particularly
that little book of a Kempis, “De Imitatione
Christi,” since the sum and substance of re-
ligion consists in imitating the Being that is
the object of your worship.
May our dear Redeemer Jesus impress up-
on your minds a lively representation of his
own meek and immaculate heart, that, in
that great and last day, he may, by this
mark, know you to be his ; and, together with
all the rest of his sealed and redeemed ones,
admit you into the mansions of eternal bliss |
Amen.
Let us pray.
ETERNAL Creator and supreme Governor
of the world, songs of praise are due to thee
in Zion : nay, as thou art infinitely superior
to all our songs and hymns, even silence in
Zion redounds to thy praise. Let the socie-
ties of angels be rather employed in singing
thy praises; but let us with silence and as-
tonishment fall down at the footstool of thy
throne, while they are taken up in the repeti-
tion of their celebrated doxology, Holy, holy,
holy, Lord God of hosts, who fillest the
heaven and the earth with thy glory ! But
O that we had within us proper powers for
exalting that most sacred Name ! that name
which, according to their measure, is cele-
brated by all the parts of this visible world
which surrounds us, the heavens, the stars,
the winds, the rivers, the earth, the ocean,
and all the creatures therein. Thou surely
didst at first implant in us souls and powers,
for this purpose, superior to the rest of the
visible creation: as we were then not only
qualified to offer thee praises founded on the
rational conviction of our minds, and anima-
ted by the affections of our hearts, but also
capable of pronouncing more articulately
even the praises that result from all the rest
of thy visible works. But, alas ! these heav-
A DEFENCE OF MODERATE EPISCOPACY.
723
enly souls, these principles proceeding from
a Divine original, we have most deeply im-
mersed in mire and dirt : nor is any hand
able to extricate them out of this mud, or
cleanse them from their pollution, but thine.
O most exalted and bountiful Father, if thou
wilt graciously please to grant us this grace
and favor, we shall then offer thee new songs
of praise as incense, and ourselves thus re-
newed as a burnt offering : and all the rest
of our time in this world we shall live, not
to ourselves, but wholly to Him who died
for us.
May thy church throughout the whole
earth, and especially in these islands, be sup-
ported by thy most powerful hand, and con-
tinually be made to rejoice in the light of thy
gracious countenance. Let our king be joy-
ful in thee; as he depends on thy bounty, let
him never be moved; let his throne be es-
tablished in piety and righteousness, and let
peace, and the gospel of peace, be the con-
stant blessings of these kingdoms, through
Jesus Christ our Lord; to whom, with thee,
and the Holy Spirit, be praise, honor, and
glory, now, and for evermore. Amen.
A MO DEST DEFENCE OF MODERATE EPISCOPACY,
AS ESTABLISHED IN SCOTLAND AT THE RESTORATION OF KING CHARLES II.
EPIscoPAL government, managed in con-
junction with presbyters, presbyteries, and
synods, is not contrary to the rule of Scrip-
ture, or the example of the primitive church,
but most agreeable to both.
Yea, it is not contrary to that new cove-
nant, which is pretended by so many as the
main, if not the only, reason of their scru-
pling ; and for their sakes it is necessary to
add this: for notwithstanding the many ir-
regularities both in the matter and form of
that covenant, and in the illegal and violent
ways of pressing and prosecuting of it, yet,
to them who still remain under the con-
science of its full force and obligation, and in
that some are inconvincibly persuaded, it is
certainly most pertinent, if it be true, to de-
clare the consistence of the present govern-
ment even with that obligation.
And as both of these assertions, I believe,
upon the exactest º impartial and impas-
sionate) inquiry, will be found to be in them-
selves true, so they are owned by the gener-
ality of the presbyterians in England, as
themselves have published their opinions in
print, with this title, Two papers of propo-
sals, humbly presented to his majesty, by the
reverend ministers of the presbyterian per-
suasion. Printed at London, anno 1661.
Besides other passages in those papers to
the same purpose, in pages 11 and 12, are
these words: “And as these are our general
ends and motives, so we are induced to in-
sist upon the form of a synodical govern-
ment, conjunct with a fixed presidency or
episcopacy; for these reasons:
“1. We have reason to believe that no
other terms will be so generally agreed on,
&c. -
“2. It being agreeable to the Scripture and
the primitive government, is likeliest to be
the way of a more universal concord, if ever
the churches on earth arrive at such a bles-
sing: however, it will be most acceptable to
God and well-informed consciences.
“3. It will promote the practice of disci-
pline and godliness without discord, and pro-
mote order without hindering discipline and
godliness.
“4. And it is not to be silenced (though
in some respects we are loath to mention it),
that it will save the nations from the viola-
tion of the solemn vow and covenant, with-
out wronging the church at all, or breaking
any other oath,” &c.
And a little after, they add, that “the
prelacy disclaimed in that covenant, was the
engrossing the sole power of ordination and
jurisdiction, and exercising of the whole dis-
cipline, absolutely by bishops themselves, and
their delegates, chancellors, surrogates, and
officials, &c., excluding wholly the pastors
of particular churches from all share in it.”
And there is one of prime note among
them, who, in a large treatise of church gov-
ernment, does clearly evidence, that this
was the mind both of the parliament of
England, and of the assembly of divines at
Westminster, as they themselves did ex-
pressly declare it in the admitting of the
covenant, that “they understood it not to be
against all episcopacy, but only against that
particular frame,” as it is worded in the ar-
ticle itself.” As for our present model in
Scotland, and the way of managing it, what-
soever is amiss (and it can be no wrong to
make that supposition concerning any church
on earth), the brethren that are dissatisfied
had possibly better acquitted their duty, by
* Baxter of Church Government, P. III., c. 1, tit..
page 275. “An episcopacy desirable for the refor-
mation, preservation, and peace of the churches, a
; president, durante vita.” See pp. 297, and 330,
101C.
734
• A DEFENCE OF MODERATE EPISCOPACY.
free admonitions and significations of their
own sense in all things, than by leaving their
stations, which is the only thing that has
made the breach, I fear, very hard to cure,
and, in human appearance, near to incurable.
But there is much charity due to those fol-
lowing their own consciences; and they owe,
and I hope they pay, the same back again to
those that do the same another way. And
whatsoever may be the readiest and happiest
way of reuniting those that are naturally so
minded, the Lord reveal it to them in due
time.
This one word I shall add: that this dif-
ference should arise to a great height, may
seem somewhat strange to any man that
calmly considers, that there is in this church
no change at all, neither in the doctrine nor
worship : no, nor in the substance of the
discipline itself. But when it falls on matter
easily inflammable, a little spark how great
a fire it will kindle !
Oh who would not long for the shadows
of the evening, from all these poor childish
contests |
But some will say, that we are engaged
against prelacy by covenant, and therefore
can not yield to so much as you do, without
perjury.
Ans. That this is wholly untrue I thus
demonstrate: I. When that covenant was
presented to the assembly with the bare name
of prelacy joined to popery, many contrary
and reverend divines desired that the word
(prelacy) might be explained, because it was
not all episcopacy they were against ; and
thereupon the following clause, in the paren-
thesis, was given by way of explication, in
these words: (That the church government
by archbishops, bishops, their chancellors,
and commissaries, deans, and chapters, arch-
deacons, and all other ecclesiastical officers
depending on that hierarchy.) By which it
appears, that it was only the English hier-
archy or frame, that was covenanted against;
and that which was then existent, that was
taken down.
II. When the house of lords took the cow-
enant, Mr. Thomas Coleman, that gave it
them, did so explain it, and profess that it
was not their intent to covenant against all
episcopacy; and upon this explication it was
taken ; and certainly the parliament was
most capable of giving the due sense of it,
seeing it was they that did impose it.
III. And it could not be all episcopacy that
was excluded, because a parochial episcopa-
cy was at that same time used and approved
commonly in England.
IV. And in Scotland they had used the
help of visiters, for the reformation of their
churches, committing the care of a country
or circuit to some one man, which was as
high a sort of episcopacy at least as any I
am pleading for : besides that they had mod-
erators in all their synods, which were tem-
porary bishops.
W. Also, the chief divines of the late as
sembly at Westminster, that recommended
that covenant to the nations, have professed
their own judgment for such a moderate
episcopacy as I am here defending, and there-
fore they never intended the exclusion of this
by covenant. *
After the same author saith, “As we have
prelacy to be aware of, so we have the con-
trary extreme to avoid; and the church's
peace, if it may be so procured ; and as we
must not take down the ministry lest it pre-
pare men for episcopacy, so neither must we
be against any profitable use and exercise of
the ministry, or desirable order among them,
for fear of introducing prelacy,” &c.
There is another that has wrote a treatise
on purpose, and that zealous enough, con-
cerning the obligation of the league and cow-
enant, under the name of Theophilus Timer-
cus, and yet therein it is expressly asserted,
that however at first view it might appear,
that the parliament had renounced all epis-
copacy, yet, upon exacter inquiry, it was ey-
ident to the author that that very scruple
was made by some members in parliament,
and resolved, with the consent of their breth-
ren in Scotland, that the covenant was only
intended against prelacy as it was then in
being in England, leaving a latitude for epis-
copacy, &c.
It would be noted, that when that cove-
nant was framed, there was no episcopacy at
all in being in Scotland, but in England only ;
so that the extirpation of that frame only
could then be merely intended.
Likewise, it would be considered of, though
there is in Scotland at present the name of
dean and chapter and commissaries, yet, that
none of these do exercise at all any part of
the discipline under that name, neither any
other, as chancellor, or surrogate, &c., by
delegation from bishops, with total exclusion
of the community of presbyters from all pow
er and share in it; which is the greatest point
of difference between that model and this
with us, and imports so much as to the main
of discipline.
I do not deny that the generality of the
people, even of ministers in Scotland, when
they took the covenant, did understand that
article as against all episcopacy whatsoever,
even the most moderate: especially if it
should be restored under the express name
of bishops and archbishops; never consider-
ing how different the nature and model, and
way of exercising it, might be thought on
under these names, and that the due regu-
lating of the thing is much more to be re-
garded than either the returning or altering
the name. But though they did not then
consider any such thing, yet certainly it con-
cerns them now to consider it, when it is
represented to them that not only the words
of the oath itself do very genuinely consist
with such a qualified and distinctive sense,
but that the very composers and imposers
A FRAGMENT ON EZRA IX.
725
of it, or a considerable part of them, did so
understand and intend it. And unless they
can make it appear that the episcopacy now
in question with us in Scotland is either con-
trary to the word of God, or to that mitiga-
ted sense of their own oath, it would seem
more suitable to Christian charity and mod-
eration, rather to yield to it, as tolerable at
least, than to continue so inflexibly to their
first mistakes, and excessive zeal for love of
it, as to divide from the church, and break
the bond of peace.
It may likewise be granted, that some
learned men in England, who have refused
to take the covenant, did possibly except
against that article of it, as signifying the to-
tal renunciation and abolition of episcopacy,
and seeing that it was the real event and con-
sequence of it, and they having many other
strong and weighty reasons for refusing it, it
is no wonder that they were little curious to
inquire what passed among the contrivers
of it, and what distinction, or different senses,
either the words of that article might admit,
or those contrivers might intend by them.
And the truth is, that, besides many other
evils, the iniquity and unhappiness of such
Oaths and covenants lie much in this, that
being commonly framed by persons that, even
among themselves, are not fully of one mind,
but have their different opinions and interests
to serve (and it was so even in this), they
commonly patch up so many several articles
and clauses, and those, too, of so versatile and
ambiguous terms, that they prove most wretch-
ed snares and thickets of briers and thorns to
the consciences of those who are engaged in
them, and matter of endless contentions and
disputes among them, about the true sense and
intendment, and the ties and obligations of
those doubtful clauses: especially in such al-
terations and revolutions of affairs as always
may, and often do, even within few years,
follow after them ; for the models and pro-
ductions of such devices are not usually long-
lived. And whatsoever may be said for their
excuse in whole or in part, who, in yielding
to the power that pressed it, and the general
opinion of this church at that time, did take
that covenant in the most moderate and least
least schismatical sense that the terms can
admit; yet I know not what can be said to
clear them of a very great sin, that not only
framed such an engine, but violently imposed
it upon all ranks of men; not ministers and
other public persons only, but the whole body
and community, to such a hodge-podge of
things of various concernments, religious and
civil, as church discipline and government,
the privileges of parliaments, and liberties
of subjects, and condign punishment of ma-
lignants—things hard enough for the wisest
and learnedest to draw the just lines of, and
to give plain definitions and decisions of
them, and therefore certainly as far off from
the reach of poor country people's under-
standing, as from the true interest of their
souls. And yet to tie them by a religious
oath, either to know all, or to contend for
them blindfold, without knowing of them
where will there be instanced a greater op-
pression and tyranny over consciences than
this? Certainly, they that now govern in
this church can not be charged with any-
thing near or like unto it; for whatsoever
they require of intrants to the ministry, they
require neither subscriptions nor oaths of min-
isters already entered, and far less of the
whole body of the people. And it were in-
genuously done to take some notice of any
point of moderation, or whatsoever else is
really commendable, even in those we ac-
count our greatest enemies, and not to take
any party in the world for the absolute stand-
ard and unfailing rule of truth and righteous-
ness in all things.
A F R A G M E N 'I'
0 N E Z R A I X,
*===
OUR joys and griefs are the pulse of our
hearts, and tell the temper of them. Earthly
joy and sorrow take deep with an earthly
heart, but little affect that which is spiritual
and heavenly ; and in this, those prayers and
griefs are strong that arise from spiritual
causes, which most of men scarcely feel at
all : yea, a holy heart stays not in its own in-
terest, in its mourning or rejoicing, but hath
more sense even of other men's sins, than
commonly they themselves who are guilty.
Rivers of waters, says David, run down mine
eyes, because they keep not thy law. Psalm
cxix. 136. Of this same temper was this
holy man. Oh how would a few, how
would one such person in a congregation,
advance the work of a public fast, more than
hundreds of us ! And such an one's silence
speaks more than all our noises; his sitting
astonished till the evening sacrifice. Little,
shallow griefs find the tongue more readily,
but the greater are not of so easy vent, but
stop awhile though pressing to be out, as a
full vessel with a narrow mouth. It was so
with Ezra's sorrow for the people's sin ; but
when it gets out, it springs upward with the
greater force, even up to heaven. I fell on
my knees, and spread out my hands to the
726
CHARGES TO THE CLERGY.
Lord my God, and said, Oh! my God, I am
ashamed, our iniquities are increased over our
heads:—q. d., These cover me with shame,
and I blush to lift up my face to those heav-
ens whither our iniquities are gone up be-
fore: when I would look to thee, I spy our
horrible transgressions got thither first, and
mutiny of the people, thereby engaging such
droves of poor ignorant persons to they know
not what, and (to speak freely) standing be-
fore thee and accusing us. Our transgres-
sion is grown up to heaven. It hath had a
long time to grow in, and all that time hath
been incessantly growing, and therefore
grown so high. Since the days of our fa-
thers we have been in this trespass. Genera-
tions pass, but yet your sins abide. When
the succeeding generation follows on in it,
the former sins are reserved, and the latter
added to them, and so they are kept alive.
Thus, they grow. This fills up the measure,
and ripens a people for judgment, that is fil-
ling and growing all the while suitable to
the sin, till it be poured out. Hence public
calamities and long-lasting judgments on
people.
Now these two things aggravate: great
judgments inflicted, and great deliverances
granted. Yet after both, this people had for-
saken God's commandments. And after all
that is come upon us for our evil deeds, and
for our great trespass, seeing that thou our
God hast punished us less than our iniquities
deserve, and hast given us such deliverance
as this. Is not this just our case ? Have we
not been sharply scourged, though indeed far
less than our iniquities, and have we not
been seasonably and wonderfully delivered
in our extremities? And yet have we not
again broken his commandments? And do
we not still generally and grossly continue
so doing ! Oh what shall we say to our
God 2 We can not stand before him, because
of this. Let us, therefore, fall down before
him, and confess, and supplicate; and there
is yet hope that he will be gracious.
C H A R G E S
TO THE CLERGY OF THE DIOCESAN syNOD OF DUNBLANE.
I. Bishop Leighton's Charge to his Clergy,
Sept. 1662.
FOR DISCIPLINE.
FIRST, That all diligence be used for the
repressing of profaneness, and for the ad-
vancement of solid piety.
Secondly, That not only scandals of un-
chastity, but drunkenness, swearing, cursing,
filthy speaking, and mocking of religion, and
all other gross offences, be brought under
church censure.
Thirdly, That scandalous offenders be not
absolved till there appear in them very prob-
able signs of true repentance.
Fourthly, That inquiry be made by the
minister, not only into the knowledge, but
the practice and track of life, of those who
are to be admitted to the holy communion;
and all profane and evidently impenitent per-
sons be secluded till their better conversa-
tion and obedience to the gospel be more ap-
parent.
Fifthly, That family prayer be inquired af.
ter; and they that can, be exhorted to join
with it reading of the Scriptures.
FOR WORSHIP.
First, That instead of lecturing and preach-
ing both at one meeting, larger portions of
the Holy Scriptures, one whole chapter at
least of each Testament, and Psalms withal,
be constantly read ; and this not as a ,by-
work, while they are convening, but after the
people are well convened, and the worship
solemnly begun with confession of sins and
prayer, either by the minister or some fit per-
son by him appointed.
Secondly, That the Lord's Prayer be re-
stored to more frequent use ; likewise the
doxology and the creed.
Thirdly, That daily public prayer, in
churches, morning and evening, with read-
ing of the Scriptures, be used where it can be
had conveniently, and the people be exhorted
to frequent them ; not so as to think that this
should excuse them from daily private prayer
in their families and in secret, but rather as
a help to enable them and dispose them the
more for both these: and let the constant use
of secret prayer be recommended to all per-
sons, as the great instrument of sanctifying
the soul, and of entertaining and increasing
it in the love of God.
Fourthly, That the younger sort and the
ignorant be diligently catechised, at fit times,
all the year through ; and that work not
wholly laid over on some days or weeks be-
fore the celebration of the communion ; but
that the inquiry, at that time, be rather of
their good conversation, and due disposition
for partaking of that holy ordinance, as was
said before in an article touching discipline.
CHARGES TO THE CLERGY.
727
Fifthly, That ministers use some short form
of catechism, such as they may require ac-
count of, till a common form be agreed on.
Sixthly, That preaching be plain and use-
ful for all capacities; not entangled with use-
less questions and disputes, nor continued to
a wearisome length ; the great and most me-
cessary principles of religion, most frequently
treated upon : and oftentime larger portions
of Scripture explained, and suitable instruc-
tions and exhortations thence deduced ; and
let that be the sermon at that time ; which
will doubtless be as truly preaching, and as
useful, if not more so, than insisting, for a
whole sermon or more, upon one short verse
Of Sentence.
The bishop propounded to the brethren,
that it was to be remembered, by himself
and them both, to how eminent degrees of
purity of heart and life their holy calling doth
engage them ; to how great contempt of this
present world, and inflamed affections toward
heaven, springing from deep persuasions with-
in them of those things they preach to others,
and from the daily meditation of them, and
fervent prayer: and that they consider how
ill it becomes them to be much in the trivial
conversation of the world ; but, when their
duty or necessity involves them in company,
that their speech and deportment be exem-
plarily holy, ministering grace to those with
whom they converse: and (to add but this one
thing, so suitable to ministers of the gospel
of peace) that they be meek and gentle, and
lovers and exhorters of peace, private and
public, among all ranks of men; endeavoring
rather to quench than to increase the useless
debates and contentions that abound in the
world ; and that they be always more studi-
ous of pacific than polemic divinity, that
certainly being much diviner than this, for
the students of it are called the sons of God.
Matt. v. 9.
II. The Bishop's Address after the business
was over, October, 1665.
AFTER the affairs of the synod were ended,
the bishop showed the brethren he had some-
what to impart to them that concerned him-
self, which, though it imported little or noth-
ing, either to them or the church, yet he
judged it his duty to acquaint them with ;
and it was, the resolution he had taken of re-
tiring from this public charge; and that all
the account he could give of the reasons mo-
ving him to it, was briefly this: the sense he
had of his own unworthiness of so high a sta-
tion in the church, and his weariness of the
contentions of this church, which seemed ra-
ther to be growing than abating, and, by their
growth, did make so greatabatements of that
Christian meekness and mutual charity, that
is so much more worth than the whole sum
of all that we contend about. He thanked
the brethren for all their underserved respect
and kindness manifested to himself all along ;
and desired their good construction of the
poor endeavors he had used to serve them,
and to assist them in promoting the work of
the ministry, and the great designs of the
gospel, in their bounds; and if, in anything,
in word or deed, he had offended them, or
any of them, he very earnestly and humbly
craved their pardon ; and having recommend-
ed to them to continue in the study of peace
and holiness, and of ardent love to our great
Lord and Master, and to the souls he hath so
dearly bought, he closed with these words of
the apostle: “Finally, brethren, farewell: be
perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind,
and live in peace; and the God of peace and
love shall be with you.”
III. The Bishop's Charge, October, 1666.
1. IT was enacted, that all the ministers
do endeavor to bring their people to a high
esteem of the Holy Scriptures, and of the
reading of them in public ; and to give evi-
dence thereof, by reverent and attentive hear-
ing, none being permitted to stand about the
doors, or lie in the kirkyard, during the time
of reading ; and if, after warning given them
of this, any shall be found to continue in the
same disorder, they are, by due rebukes and
censures, to be brought to obedience.
2. That the ministers be careful to direct
the readers what parts of the Scriptures are
most frequently to be read: as, the histories
of the gospel, and the epistles; and of the Old
Testament, the most intelligible and practi-
cable parts, particularly large portions of the
Psalms at all times, being both so excellently
instructive, and withal so divine forms of
prayers and praises, and therefore have been
so much used by the Christian churches in all
ages, and always made so great a part of
their public service.
3. That no readers be permitted, but such
as are tried and approved by the presbytery.
4. That, besides the reading between the
second and third bell, which is but as in the
interval for those that are come, till the rest
do convene, some part of the Scriptures be
read after the last bell is rung out, and the
congregation more fully met, and the minis-
ter is come in ; either by himself, or by the
reader at his appointment ; one chapter at
least, together with some of the Psalms, one
or more, as they are of length, and of which
some part afterward may be sung, and so the
people shall the better understand what they
sing. Thus shall this so useful ordinance of
public reading of the Scriptures be performed
with more solemnity, and brought into great-
er respect and veneration, and the people be
more universally and plentifully edified by it.
But, together with this, the reciting of the
ten commandments, the belief, according to
the acts of former synods, is no Lord's day to
be omitted. Nor is this only or mainly meant
as a help to the people's learning the words
of them, and so being able to repeat them,
\
728
CHARGES TO THE CI.ERGY.
but as a solemn publication of the law of God,
as the rule of our life, and a solemn profession
of our believing the articles of our Christian
faith, and for the quickening of our affections
toward both.
And as to that exercise of reading the Scrip-
tures, it can not be imagined that any well-
instructed and solid-minded Christian can
question the great expediency and usefulness
of it for all ranks of people: for, besides that
many of our commons can not read, and so
can not use the Scriptures in private, and too
many that can, yet do neglect it; even they
that use them most in private, will not only
no whit the less, but so much the more, be
well satisfied and edified with hearing them
read in public, and will more reverently and
religiously attend to them, and, with the bles-
sing of God upon them so doing, not fail to
find (what others can say they have often
found) divers passages and sentences falling
frequently in upon their hearts in public read-
ing, with particular warmth and Divine force,
nothing below, if not sometimes beyond, what
they usually find in private.
If the minister think fit to make his sermon
for the time, upon some part of what, by him-
self, or by his appointment, hath been read,
it may do well ; and possibly so much the
better, the longer the text be, and the shorter
the sermon be ; for it is greatly to be suspect-
ed that our usual way of very short texts, and
very long sermons, is apt to weary people
more, and profit them less.
But, whatsoever they do in this, they should
beware of returning to their long expositions,
besides their sermon, at one and the same
meeting ; which, besides the tediousness and
other inconveniences, is apt to foment in peo-
ple's minds the foolish prejudice and proud
disdain they have taken against the Scriptures
read without a superadded discourse: in which
conceit, for all their zeal against popery, they
seem to be too much of the Romish opinion,
as accounting the Holy Scriptures so obscure
in themselves, that it is someway dangerous,
or at least altogether unprofitable, to intrust
the common people either with reading or
hearing any part of them at any time, unless
they be backed with continual expositions.
5. That ministers do endeavor to reduce
the people from the irreverent deportment
they have generally contracted in the public
worship ; particularly from their most inde-
cent sitting at prayer, to kneel or stand, as
conveniently they may, that we may worship,
both with our bodies and with our souls, Him
that made both, and made them for that very
end. ... Oh how needful is that invitatory to
be often rung in our ears, that seem wholly
to have forgot it ! “Oh ! come, and let us
worship and bow down, and kneel before the
Lord our Maker.”
6. That people be frequently and earnestly
exhorted to morning and evening prayer in
their families, especially the prime families
in parishes, as most exemplary.
7. That the way of catechising be more
adapted to the capacity of our rude and igno-
rant people; and that our sermons, particu-
larly those of the afternoon, may be more fre-
quently bestowed on the most plain and in-
telligible way of explaining some point of
catechetical doctrine.
8. It was recommended, that convenient
utensils be provided in every kirk, for the ad-
ministration of the holy sacraments.
9. That, according to our great and stand-
ing duty, we be still more and more zealous
and careful, by doctrine and discipline, to
purge out all profaneness; particularly the
most common and crying sins, as drunken-
ness, cursing, swearings, railing, and bitter
speaking, and rotten, filthy speaking, so usual
among the common sort, in their house or
field labor together, particularly in harvest:
and that it be by all ministers recommended
to the owners of the crops, and overseers of
the reapers, to range them so to their work,
and in such divisions, as may give least occa-
sion to anything of that kind.
10. That, as we ourselves should be exem-
plary in holiness, we should endeavor that our
seniores plebis, or elders of the people, be so
too ; and, for that end, rather to have them
well chosen, though fewer, than a great num-
ber of such as too often they are.
11. That the presbyteries do inquire of each
one of their number concerning the celebra-
tion of the communion, that at least our usual
returns of it be neglected by none; for it is
one of the great defects and reproaches of our
church, that that great ordinance, being so
useful for the increase of holiness, should be
so seldom administered, as with us it is, even
where it is oftenest. For the way of examina-
tion in order to it, somewhat is set down in
our first synod, which may be looked at, if
possibly it may prove to be of any use.
IV. Paper given in by the Bishop to the Synod,
April, 1667.
1 conFEss that my own inactive and unmed-
dling temper may be too apt to prevail against
the known duty of my station, and may in-
cline me rather to inquire too little than too
much into the deportment of others; and ra-
ther to be deficient, than to exceed in admo-
nitions and advices to my brethren, in mat-
ters of their duty : and, besides this natural
aversion, the sense of my own great unwor-
thiness and filthiness, may give me check, and
be a very strong curb upon me, in censuring
others for what may be amiss, or in offering
any rules for the redress of it. And there is yet
another consideration, that bends still further
that way; for I am so desirous to keep far off
from the reach of that prejudice that abounds
in these parts against the very name of my
sacred function, as apt to command and domi-
neer too much, that I may possibly err on the
other hand, and scarcely perform the duty of
the lowest and most moderate kind of mod-
CHARGES TO THE CLERGY.
729
erator; so that I am forced to spur and drive
up myself against all these retardments, to
suggest anything, how useful soever, beyond
our road or accustomed way, especially find-
ing how little anything of that kind takes, and
prevails to any real effect.
However, when anything appears to me of
evident reason and usefulness, and that easily
joins in, and paceth with, our standing cus-
toms, I judge it my duty to offer it to you ;
and I hope, if that ye shall find it of any use,
ye will not reject it, but rather improve it to
somewhat better, that by occasion of it may
arise in your own thoughts.
Something of this kind I have formerly
moved, concerning the way of dealing with
persons fallen into scandalous sin: frequent
speaking with them in private, to the con-
Vincing and awakening their consciences to a
lively sense of sin, and directing them in the
exercises of repentance, and exhorting them
to set apart some time for the solid humbling
of their souls in fasting and prayer; and not
to admit them to public confession, until they
have, to our best discerning, some real heart-
sense of sin, and remorse for it, and serious
purposes of newness of life.
Likewise, I suggested somewhat touching
the way of examining of all persons, toward
their admission to the holy communion, be-
sides the ordinary way of catechising the
younger and more ignorant sort ; and some
other particulars much like these, that now I
will not repeat.
That which I would recommend at this
time, relates to the business of privy trials
(as they are º of ministers in their pres-
byteries, toward the time of the synod; in
which I have perceived, in some places (if 1
may be pardoned that free word), very much
of superficial, empty form ; for the help of
which, besides other ways which might be
thought on, that which occurs to me at pres-
ent, is this: That some certain questions be
asked of every minister before he withdraws;
and these be much the same with those that
usually are, or fitly may be, propounded to
the elders and people concerning their minis-
ters, at the visitation of particular kirks. For
though, in the case we now speak of, we can
have nothing but every man’s own word con-
cerning himself, yet this does not render it a
useless thing : for, besides that divers of the
questions will be of things so obvious to pub-
lic knowledge, that no man will readily ad-
venture to give an untrue answer, where it
may be so readily traced, there is much to
be given to the presumed ingenuity and vi.
vacity of a minister, especially in what is sol-
emnly and punctually inquired of him; and
whatsoever, formerly, hath been, or hath not
been, his former degree of diligence in the
particulars, the very inquiry and asking con-
cerning them, will be apt to awake, in every
man, a more serious reflection upon himself
touching each point; and the drawing forth
such an express answer to each before his
brethren, will probably excite and engage
him to higher exactness in all of them for
the time to come.
The particulars I conceive may be these,
and such others like them, as may be further
thought fit.
1. Whether he be constantly assiduous in
plain and profitable preaching, instructing,
and exhorting, and reproving, most express-
ly and frequently, those sins that abound
most among his people; and in all things, to
his best skill, fitting his doctrine to the ca-
pacities, necessities, and edification of all
sorts within his charge 2
2. Whether he be diligent in catechising,
employing throughout the year such seasons
and times for it, as may be easiest and fittest
for the people to attend it, and not wholly
casting it over upon some few days or weeks
near the time of the communion.
3. How often in the year he celebrates the
holy communion ? For I am ashamed to say,
whether, at least, once every year?
4. Whether he does faithfully and impar-
tially exercise discipline, and bring all known
scandals to due censure ; and does speak pri-
vately, and that oftener than once, with the
persons convicted, and admits them not to
public acknowledgment, till he sees in them
some probable signs of true repentance?
5. Whether he be diligent, by himself and
his elders, in all convenient ways, to know
the deportment of the several families and
persons of his flock: and do frequently visit
the families, and not only ask, but do his best
certainly to inform himself, whether they
constantly use morning and evening prayer,
together with reading of the Scriptures, if
they have any that can do it; and whether
this point of family exercise be specially pro-
vided for in the choice families in the parish 2
6. Whether he be careful of the relief of
the poor, and of visiting the sick, whensoev-
er he knows of any, even though they neg-
lect to send for him ; and for this end make
inquiry, and the rather prevent their sending,
because they commonly defer that, till it can
be of little or no use to them 2
7. Whether he does in private plainly and
freely admonish those he knows, or hath cause
to suspect, to be given to uncleanness, or
drunkenness, or swearing, or any kind of in-
ordinate walking, especially if they be of that
quality that engages him frequently to con-
verse with them ; and if they continue such,
leaves off that converse; and if their miscar-
riage be public, brings them to public cen-
sure ?
8. Whether he watches exactly over his
own conversation in all things, that he not
only give no offence, but be an example to
the flock, and preach by living 3
9. Whether he spend the greatest portions
of his time in private, in reading, and prayer,
and meditation—a thing so necessary to ena-
ble him for all the other parts of his duty ?
10. Whether he makes it the great business,
92
*
730 CHARGES TO
THE CLERGY,
and withal the great pleasure of his life, to
fulfil the work of his ministry, in the several
parts and duties of it, out of love to God, and
to the souls of his people 3
11. If he does not only avoid gross offences
(which, in a guide of souls were intolerable),
but studies daily to mortify pride, and rash an-
ger, and vain-glory, and covetousness, and love
of this world and of sensual pleasures, and self-
love, and all inordinate passions and affec-
tions, even in those instances wherein they
are subtilest and least discernible by others,
and commonly too little discerned by our-
selves 2
12. If he not only lives in peace with his
brethren and flock, and withal as much as is
possible, but is an ardent lover, and promoter
of it, reconciling differences, and preserving
good agreement, all he can, amongst his
people 2
It hath not escaped my thoughts, that some
of these questions, being of things more in-
ward, may seem less fit to be publicly pro-
pounded to any ; and that the best observers
of them will, both out of modesty, and real
humility, and severe judging of themselves,
be aptest to charge themselves with deficien-
cy in them, and will only own, at most, sin-
cere desires and endeavor, which, likewise,
they that practise and mind them least may
in general profess: neither is there any more
particular and punctual account to be expect-
ted of such things of any man in public : but
the main intent in these (as was said before),
is, serious reflection, and that each of us may
be stirred up to ask, ourselves over again
these and more of the like questions, in our
most private trials, and our secret scruti-
nies of our own hearts and lives, and may
redouble our diligence in purging ourselves,
that we may be in the house of God vessels
of honor, sanctified and meet ſor the Master's
use, and prepared to every good work. And,
for those other things more exposed to the
knowledge of others, if any brother hears of
the faultiness in any of the number, he shall
not do well to think rudely to vent it in the
meeting, till first he have made all due inqui-
ry after the truth of it; yea, though he hath
it upon inquiry to be true, yet ought he not,
even then, to make his first essay of rectifying
his brother, by a declaration to the full meet-
ing, without having formerly admonished
him, first alone, and then (according to our
Savior's rule) in the presence of one or two
more ; but having done so, if neither of these
reclaim him, then follows of necessity to tell
the church ; but that is likewise to be done
with great singleness of heart, and charity
and compassion; and the whole procedure of
the whole company, with the person so dela-
ted, is to be managed with the same temper,
according to the excellent advice of the apos-
tle, “My brethren, if any man be overtaken
in a fault, ye which are spiritual restore such
a one in the spirit of meekness, considering
thyself, lest thou also be tempted.” Gal. vi. 2.
W. Paper given ºn by the Bishop to the Sy.
nod, October 1667, containing Proposals
touching the following things:
1. Solemn reading of the Scriptures.
2. Reducing the people to a reverend ges-
ture in prayer.
3. Plain, and practical, and catechetical
preaching.
4. A weekly day for catechising, and the
reading of the Scriptures joined with it.
5. A short and plain form of catechism.
6. A more exact and spiritual way of deal-
ing with public penitents.
7. As likewise of preparing people for the
communion ; more frequent celebration
whereof is so much to be wished, but so little,
or scarce at all, to be hoped in this church.
8. That, in preaching, the most abounding
and crying sins be more sharply and frequently
reproved, particularly cursing and Swearing :
and the worship of God in families more urged.
9. The due educating and moulding the
minds of young students in presbyteries.
10. More frequent and more exact visita-
tion of churches: and the visiting of families
by each minister in his own charge.
The words of the paper were as follow :-
1. That the reading of the Holy Scriptures
in our public meetings, when they are sol-
emnest and fullest, be constantly used, and
that we endeavor to bring our people to a rev-
erend and affectionate esteem of that ordi-
nance, and attention to it.
2. That both by our own example, and by
frequent instruction and exhortation, we study
to reform that extreme irreverence and inde-
cency that hath generally prevailed in peo-
ple's deportment in time of public worship,
and particularly in prayer: and that they be
reduced to such a gesture, as may signify that
we are acknowledging and adoring the great
Majesty of God.
3. That we endeavor to adopt our way of
preaching, with all evidence and plainness,
to the informing of the people's minds, and
quickening their affections, and raising in them
renewed purposes of a Christian life: and that
some part of our sermons be designed for the
plain and practical explication of the great
principles of religion.
4. That we fix some certain times, at least
one day in the week, throughout the year,
for catechising, and that, withal, there be
reading of the Scriptures and prayer at the
same time; to which, besides that part of the
people that are for each time particularly
warned to be present, those others that are
near the church and at leisure may resort.
For the work of the ministry is a husbandry
of more continual labor and attendance than
that of our country people that labor the
ground, and therefore can not well be duly
discharged if it be wholly cast over upon the
Lord's day, without ever meeting with them,
or bringing any considerable part of them to-
gether, all the week long.
f
CHARGES TO
THE CLERGY. 73]
5. It seems absolutely necessary, that each
minister should resolve on some short and
plain form of catechism, for the use of his
people: for it is not, I think, to be imagined,
that ever people will have any fixed knowl-
edge of the articles of religion, by lax and
continually varied discourses and forms, or
by catechisms too long and too hard for them.
And would some person draw up several
short forms, they might be revised at the
next synod, and possibly one framed out of
them, which, by consent, might be appointed
for the use of this diocese, for the interim,
till one shall be published for the whole
church.
6. That which hath been formerly propos-
ed, should be reminded, of a more exact and
spiritual way of dealing with public offenders,
that their reception might be both more apt
to recover the penitents themselves, and to
edify the church.
7. For more frequent communion (if it
could be had), or however, for the better im-
proving it when we have it, seldom as it is,
what hath been formerly suggested touching
the way of examining and preparing people
to it, and other particulars relating thereto,
need not be repeated but need very much to
be really practised, if they can be of any
USe.
8. Likewise, enough hath been formerly
said (it were well if anything might once
appear to be done), touching the worship of
God in families, especially the prime ones
within our bounds: as likewise touching the
exercise of discipline for the repressing of
swearing and drunkenness, and all profane-
ness, so much abounding everywhere ; and
that our doctrine be likewise more particular-
ly and frequently applied to that purpose.
9. Something hath likewise been said con-
cerning the training up of such young men
among us as intend the ministry, not only as
to their strain of preaching, but the moulding
of their minds to more inward thoughts, and
the study of a devout life, and more acquain-
tance with the exercises of mortification and
purging of their own hearts by those Divine
truths which they are to preach to others for
the same purpose: for how shall they teach
what they have not learned ?
10. That churches be more frequently and
exactly visited, and, by each minister, the
families of his congregation.
This paper being publicly read, and con-
sented to, and approved by the unanimous
vote of the synod, conformably to it was
framed the following act.
The bishop and synod having seriously
considered the height of profaneness and
gross sins abounding among their people, par-
ticularly drunkenness and uncleanness, and
most universally the heinous sin of cursing
and swearing, and that which foments and
increases those and all sins, the great con-
tempt of the Lord's holy day and ordinances,
4.
and the gross and almost incredible igno-
rance of the common sort, under so much as-
siduous preaching and catechising ; for the
more effectual redress of all these evils, have
agreed and resolved, through the Lord’s help,
each one within himself, to stir the grace and
zeal of God that is within him, to renewed
vigor and fervor, and more earnest endeavors
in the use of all due means for that effect;
and particularly,
1. The applying of their sermons and doc-
trines more expressly and frequently to the
reproof of those wickednesses, especially of
that horrible sin which almost all ranks of
men do more easily and frequently commit
than they can possibly do other gross sins,
and that with less sense and remorse—cursing
and swearing : and that they will, by God's
assistance, not only use short and frequent
reproofs of this and other sins, but at some-
times more largely insist in representing the
exceeding sinfulness and vileness of such a
particular sin, and the great danger of the
Lord's wrath and heaviest judgments upon
those that persist in it.
2. That with this they will join constant
private inspection over the lives of their peo-
ple, and, by all due means, particularly in-
quire into them ; and when they find any one
guilty of any gross sin, privately to admon-
ish him, meekly and affectionately, but yet
with all freedom and plainness; and if upon
that they mend not, to proceed in the regular
way of discipline and censure within their
own charge; and if they be not by that re-
claimed, but prove obstimate, then to delate
them to the highest judicature, in the usual
order of this church.
3. To use more frequent catechising, and
that in so plain a method and way as may be
most apt both to inform the minds of the
most ignorant, and, through the blessing of
God, to make more deep impression upon
their hearts.
4. That, as much as is competent for min-
isters, they will endeavor to procure the exe-
cuting of those penal laws made against
cursing and swearing, and other scandalous
offences, in such a way as may be most con-
venient and feasible in each of their respec-
tive parishes.
5. That they will endeavor, both by ex-
hortation, and, where need is, by use of dis-
cipline, to bring their people to more careful
and constant attendance on all the ordinan-
ces of God at all times of the accustomed
public meetings, and to a more religious and
reverend deportment in them throughout the
whole, but particularly in time of prayer.
6. That they be particularly careful to in-
quire after the daily performance of the wor-
ship of God in families, and, where they find
it wanting, to enjoin it, and, make inquiry
again after it; and this should be especially
provided for in the choice and most eminent
families in the several congregations, as ex-
emplary to all the rest.
732
RULES AND INSTRUCTIONS FOR A HOLY LIFE.
VI. Concluding Paragraph, April, 1668.
The bishop, having commended the breth-
ren for their unity, and concord, and good
conversation, exhorted them to continue
therein, and to be more and more exemplary
in holiness, and in modesty and gravity, even
in the externals of their hair and habit, and
their whole deportment; and to the regula-
ting of their children, and their whole fami-
lies, to be patterns of religion and sobriety to
all about them ; and that they themselves as-
pire daily to greater abstraction from the
world, and contempt of things below ; giving
themselves wholly to their great work of
watching over souls, for which they must
give account; and to reading and meditation ;
and to prayer, that draws continual fresh
supplies from heaven, to enable them for all
these duties.
VII. Paragraph respecting Baptismal Vows,
October, 1668.
That which had been sometime spoke of
before, the bishop now again recommended
to the brethren, that, at their set times of cat-
echising and examining their people, they
would take particular notice of young per-
sons, toward their first admission to the holy
communion ; and, having before taken ac-
count of their knowledge of the grounds of
religion, would then cause them, each one
particularly and expressly to declare their be-
lief of the Christian faith, into which, in their
infancy, they were baptized ; and, reminding
them of that their baptismal vow, and the
great engagements it lays upon them to a
holy and Christian life, would require of
them an explicit owning of that vow and en-
gagement, and their solemn promise accord-
ingly, to endeavor the observing and per-
formance of it, in the whole course of their
following life: and then, in their prayer with
which they use to conclude those meetings,
would recommend the said young persons,
now thus engaged, to the effectual blessing
of God, beseeching him to own them for his,
and to bestow on them the sanctifying and
strengthening grace of his Holy Spirit, as his
signature upon them, sealing them to the day
of redemption.
And this practice, as it hath nothing in it
that can offend any, even the most scrupu-
lous minds, so it may be a very fit suppletory
of that defect in infant baptism, which the
enemies of it do mainly object against it, and
may, through the blessing of God, make a
lasting impression of religion upon the hearts
of those young persons toward whom it is used,
| and effectually engage them to a Christian
life; and, if they swerve from it, make them the
more inexcusable and clearly convincible of
their unfaithfulness and breach of that great
promise and sacred vow, they have so re-
newed to God before his people. And for
authority of divines, if we regard it, it hath
the general approbation of the most famous
reformers, and of the most pious and learned
that have followed them since their time;
and, being performed in that evangelical sim-
plicity as it is here propounded, they do not
only allow it as lawful, but desire it, and ad-
vise is as laudable and profitable, and of very
good use, in all Christian churches.
R U L E S AND INSTRUCTIONS FOR A H0 L V LIFE,
For disposing you the better to observe
these rules, and profit by them, be pleased to
take the following advices:—
1. Put all your trust in the special and sin-
gular mercy of God, that he for his mercy's
sake, and of his only goodness, will help and
bring you to perfection. Not that absolute
perfection is attainable here, but the meaning
is, to high degrees of that spiritual and divine
life, which is always growing and tending
toward the absolute perfection above ; but in
some persons comes nearer to that and riseth
higher, even here, than in the most. If you
with hearty and fervent desires do continually
wish and long for it, and with most humble de-
votion daily pray unto God and call for it, and
with all diligence do busily labor and travail to
come to it, undoubtedly it shall be given you.
For you must not think it sufficient to use exer-
cises, as though they had such virtues in them,
that of themselves alone, they could make such
as do use them perfect; for neither those nor
any other, whatever they be, can of them-
selves (by their use only) bring unto perfec-
tion. But our merciful Lord God, of his own
goodness, when you seek with hearty desires
and fervent sighings, maketh you to find it.
When you ask daily with devout prayer,
then he giveth it to you; and when you con-
tinually, with unwearied labor and travail,
knock perseveringly, then he doth mercifully
open unto you. And because those exercises
do teach you to seek, ask, and knock, yea,
they are none other than very devout peti-
tions, seekings, and spiritual pulsations for
the merciful help of God; therefore they are
very profitable means to come to perfection
by God’s grace.
2. Let no particular exercise hinder your
public and standing duties to God and your
RULES AND INSTRUCTIONS FOR A HOLY LIFE.
733
neighbors: but for these, rather intermit the
other for a time, and then return to it as soon
as you can.
3. If, in time of your spiritual exercise,
you find yourself drawn to any better, or to
as good a contemplation as that is, follow the
traek of that good motion so long as it shall last.
4. Always take care to follow such exerci-
ses of devout thoughts, withal putting in
practice such lessons as they contain and ex-
cite to.
5. Though at first ye feel no sweetness in
such exercises, yet be not discouraged, nor
induced to leave them, but continue in them
faithfully, whatsoever pain or spiritual trou-
ble ye feel; for, doing them for God and his
honor, and finding none other present fruit,
yet you shall have an excellent reward for
your diligent labor and your pure intentions.
And let not your falling short of these mod-
els and rules, nor your daily manifold imper-
fections and faults, dishearten you; but con-
tinue steadfast in your desires, purposes, and
endeavors; and ever ask the best, aim at the
best, and hope the best, being sorry that you
can do no better; and they shall be a most
acceptable sacrifice in the sight of God, and
in due time you shall reap if you faint not.
And of all such instructions let your rule be,
to follow them as much as you can ; but not
too scrupulously thinking your labor lost if
you do not exactly and strictly answer them
in everything. Purpose still better, and by
God's grace all shall be well.
SECTION I.
Rule 1. Exercise thyself in the knowledge
and deep consideration of our Lord God, call-
ing humbly to mind how excellent and in-
comprehensible he is ; and this knowledge
shalt thou rather endeavor to obtain by fer-
vent desire and devout prayer, than by high
study and outward labor. It is the singular
gift of God, and certainly very precarious.
2. Pray, then, “Most gracious Lord, whom
to know is the very bliss and felicity of man’s
soul, and yet none can know thee, unless
thou wilt open and show thyself unto him ;
vouchsafe, of thy infinite mercy, now and
ever, to enlighten my heart and mind to
know thee, and thy most holy and perfect
will, to the honor and glory of thy name.
Amen.”
3. Then lift up thy heart to consider (not
with too great violence, but soberly) the eter-
nal and infinite power of God, who has crea-
ted all things by his excellent wisdom; his
unmeasurable goodness, and incomprehensi-
ble love ; for he is very and only God, most
excellent, most high, most glorious, the ever-
lasting and unchangeable goodness, an eter-
nal substance, a charity infinite, so excellent
and ineffable in himself, that all dignity, per-
fection, and goodness, that is possible to be
spoken or thought of, can not sufficiently ex-
press the smallest part thereof.
4. Consider that he is the natural place,
the centre and rest of thy soul. If thou then
think of the most blessed Trinity, muse not
too much thereon, but with devout and obe-
. faith, meekly and lowly adore and wor-
Snip.
5. Consider Jesus the Redeemer and Hus-
band of thy soul, and walk with him as be-
comes a chaste spouse, with reverence and
lowly shamefulness, obedience and submission.
6. Then turn to the deep, profound con-
sideration of thyself, thine own nothingness,
and thy extreme defilement and pollution,
thy natural aversion from God, and that thou
must, by conversion to him again, and union
with him, be made happy.
7. Consider thyself and all creatures as
nothing, in comparison of thy Lord ; that so
thou mayest not only be content, but desirous
to be unknown, or being known, to be con-
temned and despised of all men, yet without
thy faults or deservings, as much as thou
CanSt.
8. Pray: “O God, infuse into my heart
thy heavenly light and blessed charity, that
I may know and love thee above all things;
and above all things loath and abhor myself.
Grant that I may be so ravished in the won-
der and love of thee, that I may forget my-
self and all things; feel neither prosperity
nor adversity ; may not fear to suffer all
the pains of this world, rather than to be
parted and pulled away from thee, whose
perfections infinitely exceed all thought and
understanding. O ! let me find thee more in-
wardly and verily present with me, than I am
with myself; and make me most circumspect
how I do use myself in the presence of thee,
my holy Lord.
“Cause me always to remember how ever-
lasting and constant is the love thou bearest
toward me, and such a charity and continual
care, as though thou hadst no more creatures
in heaven or earth besides me. What am I?
A vile worm and filth.”
9. Then aspire to a great contrition for thy
sins, and hatred of them, an abhorring of thy-
self for them ; then crave pardon in the blood
of Jesus Christ; and then offer up thyself,
soul and body, an oblation or sacrifice, in and
through him: as they did of old, laying wood
on the altar, and then burning up all: so this
shall be a sacrifice of sweet savor, and very
acceptable to God.
10. Offer all that thou hast, to be nothing,
to use nothing of all that thou hast about thee
and is called thine, but to his honor and glory ;
and resolve through his grace to use all the
powers of thy soul, and every member of thy
body, to his service, as formerly thou hast
done to sin.
11. Consider the passion of thy Lord, how
he was buffeted, scourged, reviled, stretched
with nails on the cross, and hung on it three
long hours; suffered all the contempt and
shame, and all the inconceivable pain of it,
for thy sake.
734
RULES AND INSTRUCTIONS FOR A HOLY LIFE.
12. Then turn thy heart to him, humbly
saying, “Lord Jesus, whereas I daily fall,
and am ready to sin, vouchsafe me grace as
oft as I shall, to rise again ; let me never pre-
sume, but always most meekly and humbly
acknowledge my wretchedness and frailty,
and repent, with a firm purpose to amend ;
and let me not despair because of my great
frailty, but ever trust in thy most loving mer-
cy and readiness to forgive.”
SECTION II.
1. Thou shalt have much to do in mortify-
ing of thy five senses, which must be all shut
up in the crucified humility of Jesus Christ,
and be as they were plainly dead.
2. Thou must now learn to have a contin-
ued eye inwardly to thy soul and spiritual
life, as thou hast used heretofore to have all
thy mind and regard to outward pleasure and
worldly things.
3. Thou must submit and give thyself up
unto the discipline of Jesus, and become his
scholar, resigning and compelling thyself al-
together to obey him in all things; so that
thy willing and milling thou utterly and per-
fectly do cast away from thee, and do noth-
ing without his license: at every word thou
wilt speak, at every morsel thou wilt eat, at
every stirring or moving of every article or
member of thy body, thou must ask leave of
him in thy heart, and ask thyself whether,
having so done, that be according to his will
and holy example, and with sincere intention
of his glory. Hence,
4. Even the most necessary actions of thy
life, though lawful, yet must thus be offered
up with a true intention unto God, in the
union of the most holy works, and blessed
merits of Christ; saying, “Lord Jesus, bind
up in the merits of thy blessed senses, all my
feeling and sensation, and all my wits and
senses, that I never hereafter use them to
any sensuality.”
5. Thus labor to come to this union and
knitting up of thy senses, in God and thy
Lord Jesus, and remain so fast to the cross,
that thou never part from it, and still behave
thy body and all thy senses as in the pres-
ence of thy Lord God, and commit all things
to the most trusty providence of thy loving
Lord, who will then order all things delecta-
bly and sweetly for thee. Reckon all things
besides for right naught; and thus mayest
thou come unto wonderful illuminations and
spiritual influence from the Lord thy God.
6. If, for his love, thou canst crucify, re-
nounce, and forsake perfectly thyself and all
things, thou must so crucify thyself to all
things, and love and desire God only, with
thy care and whole heart, that in this most
steadfast and strong knot and union unto the
will of God, if he would create hell in thee
here, thou mightst be ready to offer thyself,
by his grace, for his eternal honor and glory,
to suffer it, and that purely for his will and
pleasure.
7. Thou must keep thy memory clean and
pure, as it were a wedlock-chamber, from all
strange thoughts, fancies, and imaginations;
and it must be trimmed and adorned with
holy meditations and virtues of Christ's life
and passion, that God may continually and
ever rest therein.
A PRAYER.
8. “Lord, instead of knowing thee, I have
sought to know wickedness and sin ; and
whereas my will and desire were created to
love thee, I have lost that love, and declined
to the creatures. While my memory ought
to be filled with thee, I have painted it with
the imagery of innumerable fancies, not only
of all creatures, but of all sinful wickedness.
Oh! blot out these by thy blood, and imprint
thy own blessed image in my soul, blessed
Jesus, by that blood that issued out from thy
most loving heart, when thou hangedst on the
cross. So knit my will to thy most holy will,
that I may have no other will but thine, and
may be most heartily and fully content with
whatsoever thou wouldst do to me in this
world; yea, if thou wilt, so that I hate thee
not, nor sin against thee, but retain thy love,
make me suffer the greatest pains.”
SECTION III.
Rule 1. Exercise thyself to the perfect ab-
negation of all things which may let or im.
pede this union. Mortify in thee everything
that is not of God, nor for God, or which he
willeth and loveth not. Resigning and yield-
ing up to the high pleasure of God all love
and affection for transitory things, desire nei-
ther to have nor hold them, nor bestow nor
give them, but only for the pure love and
honor of God. Put away superfluous and un-
necessary things, and affect not even things
necessary.
2. Mortify all affection to and seeking of
thyself, which is so natural to men in all the
good they desire, and in all the good they do,
and in all the evil they suffer: yea, by the
inordinate love of the gifts and graces of God,
instead of himself, they fall into spiritual
pride, gluttony, and greediness.
3. Mortify all affection to, and delectation
in, meat and drink, and vain thoughts and
fancies, which, though they proceed not to
consent, yet defile the soul, and grieve the
Holy Ghost, and do great damage to the spir-
itual life.
4. Imprint on thy heart the image of Jesus
crucified, the impressions of his humility,
poverty, mildness, and all his holy virtues:
let thy thoughts of him turn into affection,
and thy knowledge into love. For the love
of God doth most º work in the mortifi-
cation of nature: the life of the spirit, pu-
rifying the higher powers of the soul, begets
RULES AND INSTRUCTIONS FOR A HOLY LIFE.
735
the solitariness and departure from all crea-
tures, and the influence and flowing into God.
5. Solitude, silence, and the strict keeping
of the heart, are the foundations and grounds
of a spiritual life.
6. Do all thy necessary and outward works
without any trouble or carefulness of mind,
and bear thy mind amid all always inwardly
lified up and elevated to God, following al-
ways more the inward exercise of love, than
the outward acts of virtue.
7. To this can no man come, unless he be
rid and delivered from all things under God,
and be so swallowed up under God, that he
can contemn and despise himself and all
things; for the pure love of God maketh the
spirit pure and simple, and so free, that, with-
out any pain and labor, it can at all times
turn and recollect itself in God.
8. Mortify all bitterness of heart toward
thy neighbors, and all vain complacency in
thyself, all vain glory and desire of esteem, in
words and deeds, in gifts and graces. To this
thou shalt come by a more clear and perfect
knowledge and consideration of thy own vile-
ness, and by knowing God to be the fountain
of all grace and goodness.
9. Mortify all affection toward inward,
sensible, spiritual delight in grace, and the
following devotion with sensible sweetness in
the lower faculties or powers of the soul,
which are nowise real sanctity and holiness
in themselves, but certain gifts of God to help
our infirmity.
10. Mortify all curious investigation or
search, all speculation and knowledge of un-
necessary things, human or Divine ; for the
perfect life of a Christian consisteth not in a
high knowledge, but profound meekness, in
holy simplicity, and in the ardent love of God;
wherein we ought to desire to die to all affec-
tion to ourselves and all things below God;
yea, to Sustain pain and dereliction, that we
may be perfectly knit and united to God, and
be perfectly swallowed up in him.
11. Mortify all undue scrupulousness of
conscience, and trust in the goodness of God:
for our doubting and scruples ofttimes arise
from inordinate self-love, and therefore vex
us; they do no good, neither work any real
amendment in us; they cloud the soul, and
darken faith, and cool love; and it is only the
stronger beams of these that can dispel them.
And the stronger that faith and Divine confi-
dence is in us, and the hotter Divine love is,
the soul is so much the more excited and ena-
bled to all the parts of holiness, to mortifica-
tions of passions and lusts, to more patience
in adversity, and to more thankfulness in all
€States.
12. Mortify all impatience in all pains and
troubles, whether from the hands of God or
men, all desire of revenge, all resentment of
injuries; and by the pure love of God, love
thy very persecutors as if they were thy dear-
est friends.
13. Finally, mortify thy own will in all
things, with full resignation of thyself to suf.
fer all dereliction, outward and inward, all
pain, and pressures, and desolations, and that
for the pure love of God : for from self-love
and self-will spring all sin and all pain.
A PRAYER.
14. “O Jesus, my Savior thy blessed hu-
mility, impress it on my heart. Make me
most sensible of thy infinite dignity, and of
my own vileness, that I may hate myself as a
thing of naught, and be willing to be despised
and trodden upon by all as the vilest mire
of the streets ; that I may still retain these
words—I AM NOTHING, I HAVE NOTHING, I can
Do NOTHING, AND I DESIRE NOTHING BUT ONE "
SECTION IV.
1. Never do anything with propriety and
singular affection, being too earnest, or too
much given to it; but with continual meek-
ness of heart and mind, lie at the foot of God,
and say, “Lord, I desire nothing, neither in
myself, nor in any creature, save only to know
and execute thy blessed will.” Saying alway
in thy heart, “Lord, what wouldst thou have
me to do? Transform my will into thine:
fill full, and swallow up, as it were, my af.
ſections with thy love, and with an insatiable
desire to honor thee, and despise myself.”
2. If thou aspire to attain to the perfect
knitting and union with God, know that it re-
quireth a perfect exspoliation, and denuda-
tion, or bare nakedness, and utter forsaking
of all sin, yea, of all creatures, and of thyself
particularly : even that thy mind and under-
standing, thy affections and desires, thy mem-
ory and fancy, be made bare of all things in
the world, and all sensual pleasures in them,
so as thou wouldst be content that the bread
which thou eatest had no more Savor than a
stone, and yet, for his honor and glory that
created bread, thou art pleased that it savor-
eth well: but yet, from the delectation thou
feelest in it, turn thy heart to his praises and
love that made it.
3. The more perfectly thou livest in the ab-
straction, and departure, and bare nakedness
of thy mind from all creatures, the more na-
kedly and purely shalt thou have the fruition
of the Lord thy God, and shalt live the more
heavenly and angelical life. Therefore,
4. Labor above all things most exactly to
forsake all for him ; and chiefly to forsake
and contemn thyself; purely loving him, and
in a manner forgetting thyself and all things,
for the vehement burning love of him; thus
thy mind will run so much upon him, that
thou wilt take no heed what is sweet or bit-
ter, neither wilt thou consider time or place,
nor mark one person from another, for the
wonder and love of thy Lord God, and the
desire of his blessed will, pleasure, and hon-
or, in all things. And whatsoever good thou
dost, know and think that God doth it, and
not thou.
736
RULES AND INSTRUCTIONS FOR A HOLY LIFE.
5. Choose always (to the best of thy skill)
what is most to God’s honor, and most like
unto Christ and his example, and most profit-
able to thy neighbor, and most against thy
own proper will, and least serviceable to thy
OWn praise and exaltation.
6. If thou continue faithful in this spiritual
work and travail, God at length, without
doubt, will hearthy knocking, and will deliv-
er thee from all thy spiritual trouble, from all
the tumults, noise, and incumbrance of cogi-
tations and fancies, and from all earthly af.
fections, which thou canst by no better means
put away, than by continual and fervent de-
sire of the love of God.
7. Do not at any time let or hinder his
working, by following thine own will; for
behold how much thou dost the more perfect-
ly forsake thine own will, and the love of thy-
self, and of all worldly things, so much the
more deeply and safely shall thou be knit
º: God, and increase in his true and pure
OWe,
SECTION W.
1. If thou still above all things seek that
union, thou must transfund and pour thy
whole will into the high pleasure of God;
and whatsoever befalls thee, thou must be
without murmuring and retraction of heart,
accepting it most joyfully for his love whose
will and work it is.
2. Let thy great joy and comfort evermore
be, to have his pleasure done in thee, though
in pains, sickness, persecutions, oppressions,
or inward griefs and pressures of heart, cold-
ness or barrenness of mind, darkening of thy
will and senses, or any temptations, spiritual
or bodily. And,
3. Under any of these, be always wary thou
turn not to sinful delights, nor to sensual and
carnal pleasures, nor set thy heart on vain
things, seeking comfort thereby, nor in any
wise be idle, but, always as thou canst, com-
pel and force thyself to some good spiritual
exercise or bodily work; and though they be
then unsavory to thee, yet are they not the
less, but the more acceptable to God.
4. Take all afflictions as tokens of God’s
love to thee, and trials of thy love to him,
and purposes of kindness to enrich thee, and
increase more plentifully in thee his blessed
gifts and spiritual graces, if thou persevere
faithfully unto the end ; not leaving off the
vehement desire of his love and thy own per-
fection.
5. Offer up thyself wholly to him, and fix
the point of thy love upon his most blessed
increated love; and there let thy soul and
heart rest and delight, and be as it were re-
solved and melted most happily into the
blessed Godhead; and then take that as a
token, and be assured by it, that God will
grant thy lovely and holy desire. Then shalt
thou feel in a manner no difference between
honor and shame, joy and sorrow ; but what-
soever thou perceivest to appertain to the
honor of thy Lord, be it ever so hard and un-
pleasant to thyself, thou wilt heartily em-
brace it, yea, with all thy might follow and
desire it: yet, when thou wilt think thou hast
done what is possible for thee, thou wilt
think thou hast done nothing at all, yea, thou
shalt be ashamed, and detest thyself, that
thou hast so wretchedly and imperfectly
served so noble and worthy a Lord ; and
therefore, thou wilt desire and endeavor ev-
ery hour to do and suffer greater and more
perfect things than hitherto thou hast done,
forgetting the things that are behind, and
pressing forward to those that are before.
6. If thou hast in any measure attained to
love and abide in God, then mayest thou
keep the power of thy soul and thy senses,
as it were, shut up in God, from gadding out
to any worldly thing or vanity, as much as
possible, where they have so joyfully a secu-
rity and safeness. Satiate thy soul in him,
and in all other things still see his blessed
presence.
7. Whatsoever befalleth thee, receive it
not from the hand of any creature, but from
him alone, and render back all to him, seek-
ing in all things his pleasure and honor, the
purifying and subduing of thyself. What can
harm thee, when all must first touch God,
within whom thou hast enclosed thyself?
8. When thou perceivest thyself thus knit
to God, and thy soul more fast and joined
nearer to him than to thine own body, then
shalt thou know his everlasting, and incom-
prehensible, and ineffable goodness, and the
true nobleness of thy soul, that same from
him, and was made to be reunited to him.
9. If thou wouldst ascend and comé up to
thy Lord God, thou must climb up by the
wounds of his blessed humanity, that remain
as it were, for that use ; and when thou art
got up there, thou wouldst rather suffer death
than willingly commit any sin. g
10. Entering into Jesus, thou castest thyself
into an infinite sea of Goodness, that more
easily drowns and happily swallows thee up,
than the ocean does a drop of water. Then
shalt thou be hid and transformed in him,
and shaltoften be as thinking without thought,
and knowing without knowledge, and loving
without love, comprehended of him whom
thou canst not comprehend.
SECTION WI.
1. Too much desire to please men, mighti-
ly prejudiceth the pleasing of God.
2. Too great earnestness and vehemency,
and too greedy delight in bodily work and
external doings scattereth and loseth the
tranquillity and calmness of the mind.
3. Cast all thy care on God, and commit
all to his good pleasure: laud, and praise,
and applaud him in all things, small and
great. Forsake thy own will, and deliver up
thyself freely and cheerfully to the will of
RULES AND INSTRUCTIONS FOR A HOLY LIFE.
737
God, without reserve or exception, in pros-
perity and adversity, sweet or sour, to have
or to want, to live or to die.
4. Disunite thy heart from all things, and
unite it only to God.
5. Remember often, and devoutly, the life
and passion, the death and resurrection, of
our Savior Jesus.
6. Descant not on other men's deeds, but
consider thine own : forget other men's faults,
and remember thine own.
7. Never think highly of thyself, nor de-
spise any other man.
8. Keep silence and retirement as much as
thou canst, and through God’s grace, they
will keep thee from snares and offences.
9. Lift up thy heart often to God, and de-
sire in all things his assistance.
10. Let thy heart be filled and wholly ta-
ken up with the love of God, and of thy
neighbor; and do all that thou dost, in that
sincere charity and love.
The sum is :
1. Remember always the presence of God.
2. Rejoice always in the will of God. And,
3. Direct all to the glory of God.
SECTION WII.
1. Little love, little trust; but a great love
brings a great confidence.
2. That is a blessed hope that doth not
slacken us in our duty, nor maketh us se-
cure, but increaseth both a cheerful will, and
gives greater strength to mortification and
all obedience.
3. What needest thou, or why travailest
thou about so many things 2 Think upon
one, desire and love one, and thou shalt find
great rest. Therefore,
4. Wherever thou be, let this voice of God
be still in thine ear: My son, return inwardly
to thy heart, abstract thyself from all things,
and mind me only. Thus,
5. With a pure mind in God, clean and
bare from the memory of all things, remain-
ing unmoveably in him, thou shalt think and
desire nothing but him alone ; as though
there were nothing else in the world but he
93
and thou only together: that all thy facul-
ties and powers being thus re-collected into
. thou mayest become one spirit with
IIIl.
6. Fix thy mind on thy crucified Savior,
and remember continually his great meek-
ness, love, and obedience, his pure chastity,
his unspeakable patience, and all the holy
virtues of his humanity.
7. Think on his mighty power and infinite
goodness; how he created and redeemed
thee; how he justifieth thee, and worketh in
thee all virtues, graces, and goodness: and
thus remember him, until thy memory turn
into love and affection. Therefore,
8. Draw thy mind thus from all creatures,
unto a certain silence and rest from the jang-
ling and company of all things below God;
and when thou canst come to this, then is thy
heart a place meet and ready for thy Lord
God to abide in, there to talk with thy soul.
9. True humility gaineth and overcometh
God Almighty, and maketh thee also apt and
meet to receive all graces and gifts. But
alas! who can say that he hath this blessed
meekness, it being so hard, so uncertain, so
secret and unknown a thing, to forsake and
mortify perfectly and exactly thyself, and that
most venomous worm of all goodness, vain-
glory !
10. Commit all to the high providence of
God, and suffer nothing torestor enter into th
heart save only God. All things in the eart
are too base to take up thy love or care, or
to trouble thy noble heart, thy immortal and
heavenly mind. Let them care and sorrow,
or rejoice about these things, who are of the
world, for whom Christ would not pray.
11. Thou canst not please nor serve two
masters at once: thou canst not love divers
and contrary things; if, then, thou wouldst
know what thou lovest, mark well what thou
thinkest most upon. Leave earth, and have
heaven; leave the world and have God.
12. All sin and vice spring from the prop-
erty of our own will; all virtue and perfec-
tion come and grow from the mortifying of
it, and the resigning of it wholly to the pleas--
ure and will of God.
A PP E N DIX.
L | F E O F A R C H B IS HO P L E I G HT ON:*
BY J A M E S A IK M A. N.
1N an age when the study of Theology
was the universal and leading pursuit, and
amounted almost to a passion, RoBERT LEIGH-
TON was a pre-eminent theologian ; not so
much from his acquirements in that species
of literature, in which, however, he was
deeply skilled, as from the delightful example
he exhibited, in his life and writings, of a
religion he cordially believed, and, as far as
his apprehensions extended, faithfully copied.
He was not free in his conduct #. the
errors of humanity, but he was one of the
very few who err on the lovelier side; his
amiability of temper, and purity of principle,
led him to carry, among men of sterner stuff,
the proposals of Charity which he professed,
farther than either accorded with the situa-
tion he held, the rights that were in peril, or
the temper of the times. It therefore hap-
pened to him, as must happen to all placed
in similar circumstances, that his character
was viewed by his contemporaries, in ex-
tremes; and as posterity do not easily get rid
of the feelings of their ancestors, it has, even
in our days, been looked at in very different
lights.
Men have no right to visit the sins of the
fathers upon the children, yet it is no inde-
fensible propensity to esteem the seed of the
righteous, to feel grief for them when they
leave the paths of their progenitors, and if
they have descended from persecuted parents,
and join their persecutors, to address them as
the prophet did Jehoshaphat, “Shouldst thou
help the ungodly, and love them that hate
the Lord? therefore there is wrath upon thee
from before the Lord : nevertheless, there are
good things found about thee.”
That such sentiments should have been
entertained, respecting the subject of this
memoir, by many excellent men in Scotland,
will not appear strange when the cruel inflic-
tion his father, Dr. Alexander Leighton, un-
derwent, is considered ; and however his own
* An edition of Leighton's Works has been re-
ºy published in Edinburgh, to which is prefixed
a “Life of the Author,” by James Aikman. As this
Life contains some memorials and letters not incor-
porated in Pearson's Life prefixed to this volume, the
publisher has thought it advisable to insert them in
the form of an Appendix.
mind might have felt justified in the change,
it was not to be expected that presbyterians,
who were themselves suffering for the same
cause, which they were fully persuaded was
for righteousness' sake, could be easily con-
vinced of the strength of those reasons, that
influenced the son of such a father, to leave
their ranks, and join their opponents.
Dr. Alexander Leighton was descended, it
is said, of an ancient family in Forfarshire,
whose chief seat was Ulys-haven, or Usen,
but the fact is as obscure as it is unimportant;
it is certain that he was one of the numerous
host of confessors who bore testimony against
the enormous abuse of prelatic power in his
day, and suffered severely for it. -
As was not uncommon in these times of
persecution, although a minister of the gos-
pel, he had also studied medicine, and after-
ward practised it in London during the reign
of James I. and early in that of Charles I.,
where he also exercised his ministry, but
whether to any stated congregation does not
appear, Warmly attached to presbyterian
principles, he took part in the violent and
dangerous controversies then agitating Eng-
land, and published a work entitled: “An
Appeal to the Parliament, or Zion's Plea
against the Prelacie: the summe whereof is
delivered in a Decade of Positions. In the
handling whereof the Lord Bishops and their
appurtenances are manifestly proved, both
by divine and humane lawes, to be intruders
upon the priviledges of Christ, of the King,
and of the Commonweal: and therefore upon
good evidence given, she hartelie desireth a
judgment and execution—printed in the year
and moneth wherein Rochelle was lost,
1628.” The style of the book is in perfect
accordance with what unhappily is the gen-
eral style of polemics, and such as we have
seen exemplified, even in our own day, when
men allow their passions to intermingle with
their controversies: yet it was not more vir-
ulent, if it was as much so, as many of those
which appeared on the opposite side.
For this work he was brought to trial, and
the arguments of the book, which plainly
proved that an overgrown, ambitious, and
tyrannical prelacy, was not the ministry ap-
740
APPENDIX.
W
pointed by Christ in his church, were, it
seems, aggravated by the imprint, as mark-
ing his dissatisfaction to government—it being
the general belief, that if England had inter-
fered in behalf of the French protestants,
Rochelle would have been saved from the
hands of the Papists; and by the book, being
also decorated, according to the fashion of
the day, with two hieroglyphical cuts expla-
natory of the subject, the first a burning
lamp, supported by a book and two armed
men guarding it; the legend, not remarkably
elegant, explained the meaning:
Prevailing prelates strive to quench our light,
Except your sacred power quash their might.
The other represented an elder bush growing
out of a ruinous tower, from whose branches
a parcel of bishops were tumbling, one of
them with a strong box in his hand—the
legend,
The tottering prelates with their º all,
Shall moulder down like elder from a wall.
These, which were grating subjects in the
days of Charles to the members of the Eng-
lish Hierarchy, and not over-pleasant in the
days of George IV.,” will scarcely be deemed
any palliation of the conduct of the Star
Chamber, in their treatment of the author,
even although it was under the influence of
the bishops.
He was arrested early in 1629, hurried to a
wretched cell in Newgate, low, damp, and
without light, except what was admitted,
along with the rain, from an aperture in the
roof, overrun with rats and other vermin.
Here he lay from Tuesday night till Thurs-
day at noon, without food, and for fourteen
'ays endured solitary confinement in this
º iserable hole; while his house, in his ab-
se, nce, was rifled, his books destroyed, and his
a) '
#, y, º º
the ºrimes with which he was charged, but
he we vs sick and unable to attend, and from
the nature of his disorder, a fitter object of
compassion, than punishment, for the skin
and hair had almost wholly come off his body.
hers carried off. After sixteen weeks’ cap-
he was served with an information of
yet though thus afflicted, this aged, infirm
divine, was condemned to a punishment the
stoutest ruffian could hardly have endured,
which some of the lords of court conceived
could aeyer be inflicted on a dying man, and
was only held out as a terror to others; it
was to be degraded as a minister, to have
his ears cut off, his nose slit, to be branded in
the face, to stand in the pillory, to be whipped
at a post, to pay a fine of £1000, and to suf.
fer imprisonment till it was paid; the which
when "Archbishop Laud heard, pronounced,
he pulled off his hat, and hºlding up, his
hands, gave thanks to God, who had given
the church victory over her enemies! And
it was mercilessly inflicted. On the twenty-
* Pearson's Life of Archbishop Leighton, prefixed
to this edition of his works. The following referen-
ces are to that Memoir.
ninth of November, in a cold, frosty day, he
was stripped, and received, thirty-six lashes
with a triple cord, after which he stood dur-
ing a Snow-storm two hours half-naked on
the pillory at Westminster, was branded on
One cheek with a red-hot iron, had one ear
cut off, and one side of his nose slit. On
that day se’ennight, ere his sores were healed,
he was taken to the pillory at Cheapside, and
underwent the remainder of his sentence.
He was then carried back to prison, and shut
in for upward of ten years until the meeting
of the Long Parliament: when released from
his miserable confinement, he could hardly
walk, see, or hear. The Parliament reversed
all the proceedings against him, and voted
him £6000 for his great sufferings and dama-
ges, and in 1642 gave him an appointment.
He died about 1649.
Dr. Leighton had two sons, the eldest
Robert, the second Elisha ; and two daugh-
ters, the eldest Sapphira, the other Mrs.
Rathband, of whom nothing more is known.
ROBERT was born in the year 1611, in Lon-
don, and Burmet tells us, “he was sent to his
father to be bred in Scotland.” The year when
he was sent thither, or how his education was
conducted till he became a student in the uni-
versity of Edinburgh, in 1627, forms a blank
in his life, which can not now be filled up.
He attended the different classes till 1631,
when he took the degree of Master of Arts;
and it deserves to be noticed, that the profes-
sors during that period were chiefly men who
were attached to the mongrel, semi-episcopal,
semi-presbyterian latitudinarianism, which
was the court religion of the time in Scot-
land. He had early imbibed a decided aver-
sion for the whole frame of the church of
England—and no wonder' but the mixed
system of episcopacy then taught in the
Scottish school, which allowed of a synod
of presbyters with a permanent presiding
bishop, similar to what Mosheim thinks was
early introduced into the Christian church,
appears to have been the pivot on which his
young mind rested the balance between the
opposing systems, for it does not appear he
had then decided. The circumstances of his
family not permitting him to apply to the
ecclesiastical courts for license, he went
abroad.
Burnet, to whose brief notices we are
chiefly indebted for any account of young
Leighton, says, “From Scotland his father
sent him to travel.” How his father, who
was previously immured in his miserable
habitation, found the means to do so, We are
left to conjecture. He travelled several years
in France, and resided some time at Douay,
where he had relatives; he is here reported
or supposed to have fallen in with some reli-
gionists, “whose lives were framed on the
strictest model of primitive piety;” but as in
his writings he has repeatedly declared his
opinion to be, that the church of Rome is ut-
terly anti-Christian, it is not at all probable,
AIKMAN'S LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
74.1
that the practice of the monks there had
much, if any, influence in abating his vener-
ation for the “presbyterian platform ;” at
least, he embraced the first opportunity of
returning to Scotland, and accepting a pres-
byterian charge.
During his absence on the continent, a se-
ries of events had taken place in Scotland,
that had entirely overturned the pseudo-
prelacy, which he had left in power, and
covenanted presbyterianism, in the strictest
sense that it ever was professed, was estab-
lished instead, by the laws of the land, and
in the affections of the people. Leighton
was a man of peace, and when the struggle
was at its height, he did not choose to mingle
in the fray, but when the religious commu-
nity were rejoicing in the acquisition of their
freedom, and their favorite form of church-
government, he came home to swell the tri-
umph, and enjoy the gale. Accordingly, on
his return to Scotland, having been unani-
mously called by the congregation of New-
bottle, a parish in the presbytery of Dalkeith,
after passing through the usual course of trial
for the ministry to the great satisfaction of
his judges, he was ordained there on the six-
teenth of December, 1641, being then in the
thirtieth year of his age. The parish is de-
lightfully situated on the banks of the Esk,
among whose romantic scenery Leighton
could enjoy the retirement he so much loved;
and the residence of the Earl of Lothian in
the abbey within his bounds, a nobleman at-
tached to the cause of religion, in whose
family he might cultivate the advantages of
elevated society, would add considerably to
its charms. To the manner in which he
fulfilled the duties of a parochial minister,
perhaps the obscurity in which this is in-
volved may be considered the highest testi-
Indny. A person who afterward arrived at
such distinguished eminence in such turbu-
lent times, must have acted with more than
ordinary diligence and circumspection, to
have escaped blame, from such critical scru-
tinizers as he was exposed to. These duties
were what men of modern times would
shrink from, for they were the entire business
of a minister’s life, what the word of God
and the rules of his church enjoined, what
his people expected, and what his co-presby-
ters practised themselves, and enforced on
their brethren. Besides the services of the
Sabbath, there were usually one or more lec-
tures or sermons preached during the week;
the parishioners were regularly visited from
house to house, the whole as punctually ex-
amined, particularly the young, the instruc-
tion of whom it was an important part of the
ministerial function to superintend ; both by
inspecting the schools, and inquiring into
their progress in religious and useful learn-
ing, and by their visitations at their homes
to watch over their moral training—a species
of education, the last especially, the fruits of
which were abundantly manifest in the next
generation, which was destined to bear the
fiery trial of a twenty-eight years’ furnace.
Leighton, whose delight was in his work,
it may be easily imagined, would not abridge
any of these necessary duties; and all his
biographers concur in stating, that he was
most assiduous in discharging the various
branches of his sacred office. “He diligently
visited the poor of the flock, was ever to be
found in the chambers of the afflicted, and at
the beds of the sick or the dying. He pro-
moted personal, domestic, social, and public
religion, to the utmost of his power, by pre-
cept, example, and prayer.” One solitary
anecdote remains of this interval.
It was the practice of the presbytery, to
inquire of their members twice a year,
whether they preached to the times 2 that is,
whether they improved the serious and alarm-
ing circumstances by which they were sur-
rounded, and at a period, when the pulpit
was almost the only medium through which
the people could be informed of the state of
public affairs—directed in the duty which
they were required to pursue—whether the
ministers acted as faithful watchmen 3–
Leighton acknowledged the omission, but
adroitly apologized for it, by saying, “If all
the brethren have preached to the times, may
not one poor brother be allowed to preach for
eternity ?” a question which, had his co-
presbyters been the zealots of a party, would
have been received by anything but approba-
tion. And it is exceedingly doubtful, in times
of dread import, like those in which he lived,
when the wheels of Providence seem moving
onward with accelerated motion, laden with
events to which the mysterious voice of
prophecy calls our attention—it seems more
than doubtful whether the ministers of God
are not liable to the rebuke, “Ye can discern
the face of the heavens, but can ye not dis-
cern the signs of the times?” when they
keep silence, and do not “preach to the
times.”
Two very different testimonies respecting
the nature of Leighton's pulpit oratory have
come down to us. “His preaching,” says
Burnet, “had a sublimity both of thought
and expression in it. The grace and gravity
was such, that few heard him without a sen-
sible emotion. I am sure I never did. His
style was rather too fine, but there was a
majesty and beauty in it, that left so deep an
impression, that I can not yet forget the ser-
mon I heard him preach thirty years ago.
And yet with this he seemed to look on him-
self as so ordinary a preacher that while he
had a cure, he was ready to employ all oth-
ers; and when he was a bishop, he chose to
preach to small auditories, and would never
give notice beforehand; he had indeed a very
low voice, and so could not be heard by a
great crowd.” Baillie, in speaking of An-
drew Gray, one of the most extraordinary
young ministers that has appeared in the
church of Scotland, whose memory is yet
742
APPENDIX.
fresh in the west, and whose sermons, pub-
lished under every possible disadvantage,
evince that it deserves to be so, thus obliquely
gives the opinion he and his moderate breth-
ren held of Leighton's ministerial instruc-
tions. “He has the new guise of preaching,
which Mr. Hugh Binning and Mr. Robert
Leighton began, containing the ordinary way
of expounding and dividing a text, of raising
doctrines and uses; but runs out a discourse
on some common head, in a high romancing
and inscriptural style, tickling the ear for the
present, and moving the affections in some,
but leaving little or naught to the memory
and understanding.”
That Gray and Binning were amazingly
popular, is well attested; that Leighton de-
served to be equally or more so, will appear
evident from a comparison of the remains
they have left behind them ; for all have
written specimens of their sermons, and
respecting the merit of our author's, we shall
afterward speak. But those only who heard
the living preachers, could tell us of their
eloquence. They who know — and what
clown does not know 2–the power of the
keen language of the eye, the emphasis of
countenance, the varied tone and energy of
voice, even the influence of grave appropriate
action, can note the difference between the
living and the dead. In the church of Scot-
land when in her glory, reading was un-
known, and would not have been tolerated.
The ministers were too much alive to the
importance of their subjects to waste much
time upon the “conning of nice phrases,”
and depended more upon the vigor than the
polish of their language; yet were they not
inelegant or careless, as the posthumous
works of all these eminent three bear ample
evidence: but their usual method appears to
have been, first they studied their subject ful-
ly, then wrote a few notes, in modern terms
made a skeleton of their discourse, and left
the filling up to the fulness of their heart at
the time of the delivery. This appears to
have been the case especially with Andrew
Gray, but in some instances the sermons ap-
pear to have been fully written out, although
not slavishly delivered, as in the case of
Hugh Binning. And it is a curious fact, that
the whole of Durham's elaborate commentary
on the Revelations, forming a folio volume,
containing many calculations, and several
profound disquisitions, was delivered without
having been committed to paper, but taken
down as he delivered it, was copied out after-
ward, and brought to himself for correction,
except a very few of the last sheets. Indeed,
it appears, strange, that the reading of ser.
mons should ever have found practitioners or
advocates, except among the indolent or im-
becile; and I apprehend with scarcely an
exception it will be found, that either want
of capacity or want of diligence is at the
root of the practice, and in either case, such
a person ought not to be a public speaker.
Where God has withheld the talents for
public speaking from a man, it needs no
revelation to tell us that that man was never
intended for a public speaker. If God have
bestowed the talents, and he refuse to culti-
vate them, it is as clear that that man is un-
worthy of exercising the office of a gospel
minister. If, after a man has been duly called
to his office, and if, after having exercised it
faithfully, it has pleased the inscrutable wis-
dom of Heaven to deprive him of any of his
faculties, it becomes then a question whether
he ought to retire. And if this be impossible
or improper, say, that merely memory has
failed, and there be no funds for his support,
and his people be unwilling to dispense with
his services; the case is altered—let him
read. But I believe it will in general be
found in the cases of conversion, that often
comparatively weak discourses have been
blessed, while the most elaborately composed
discourses, and the most beautifully read,
have been merely listened to as elegant es-
says, or praised as the lovely works of art.
And it is natural that it should be so; God is
the God of means, as well as of grace, and
he has appointed the living voice, the “fool-
ishness of preaching,” whereby to save them
that believe; and His approbation, not the
applause of elegant or crowded auditories,
ought to be the grand end and aim of a min-
ister. Leighton was an enemy to reading.
“I know,” he said, “that weakness of mem-
ory is pleaded in excuse for this custom, but
better minds would make better memories.
Such an excuse is unworthy of a man, and
much more of a father, who may want vent
indeed in addressing his children, but ought
never to want matter. Like Elihu, he should
be refreshed by speaking.”
If the remark hold true of private, as of
public affairs, that the years which afford
fewest materials for the historian are gene-
rally those that have been the happiest, the
years, which Leighton spent at Newbottle
must have been among the most pleasant of
his life; but toward their close, the political
state of the country invaded even his peace-
ful retirement. . It is well known that the
troubles of Scotland, from the Reformation
till the final expulsion of the Stuarts, arose
from contests for religious and civil liberty
on the part of the people, and for priestly
power and absolute despotism on the part of
the crown. By treachery and deceit, the
British Solomon, styled king-craft, James the
I. had during a long reign attempted, and
nearly accomplished, the overthrow of the
constitution of his native land—the task of
completing the destruction of his people's
rights, he left as a legacy to his son; this
Charles, rashly endeavored to accomplish,
while his hands were fully occupied with his
English subjects, and, by introducing the lit-
urgy among a people who detested it, he put
the match to a train that lay ready for explo-
sion—the consequence was, that after an idle
AIKMAN'S LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
7.43
parade of royal weakness, when opposed to
the universal wish of a people, he was forced
to give a free and fair constitution, securing
the rights of his subjects from princely or
prelatic invasion. Of this constitution the
covenant was the cause, and on every in-
fringement, it was renewed as the guaranty.
In it the king and people swore to the per-
formance of their various duties, and among
others, to preserve the religion as then estab-
lished, and to resist all innovations tending to
reintroduce the prelacy.
A multiplication of oaths to men in public
life, besides being one of the slenderest of all
ties to unprincipled men, is one of the worst
in Christian nations, as it uniformly involves
them in varied and multiplied iniquity; it
distresses, binds, and debilitates, the minds
of the conscientious, while it is frail as Samp-
son's green withs to the sturdy politician.
But if ever there was a time, when a solemn
declaration of principles, and an explicit
promise or vow to observe them, were called
for, it was just about the period when Leigh-
ton entered upon the pastoral office at New-
bottle ; and I think it plain from his own
writings, that he conscientiously viewed the
covenant in this light, and subscribed it at his
ordination without scruple. Had Charles I.
been sincere when he ratified the acts of the
Scottish parliament, he might have reigned
a powerful monarch, and died a better man;
but his duplicity led to the great civil war,
and forced Scotland and England to join to-
gether for mutual preservation from threat-
ened tyranny. They did so, in an agreement
known by the name of the Solemn League
and Covenant, in which they pledged them-
selves to endeavor uniformity in religion ac-
cording to the word of God, and the extirpa-
tion of prelacy ; and this, in the form of an
oath, was forced upon almost every inhabi-
tant of Scotland. But it deserves especial
notice, that the zealots who were most for-
ward in pressing this oath, were the political
presbyterians, men whose exuberance of fire,
like that of all violent partisans, was exactly
in proportion to their lack of principle; and
they who were then the chief instruments of
covenanting oppression, were the very per-
sons who turned apostates, and were the
chief instruments of prelatical persecution.
Leighton, whose aversion to the lordly
pomp of the English hierarchy was undoubt-
edly as sincere as it was well founded, un-
hesitatingly subscribed this bond himself,
and afterward administered it to the students
in Edinburgh university. He thus explains
the reason of his facility: “For it would be
noted, that when the covenant was framed,
there was no episcopacy at all in being in
Scotland, but in England only, so that the
extirpation of that frame only could then be
merely intended.” It may be difficult, how-
ever, to exculpate him from the error of hav-
ing first vowed and then made inquiry; nor,
when he attempts it himself, is he very suc-
cessful—but great allowance must be made for
the gentleness of his natural disposition, and
his most amiable desire for peace, especially
when his whole life evinced that he was nei-
ther actuated by motives of covetousness or
ambition; and whether we agree with him
or not, we must agree, that as his life was
holy, there can be little doubt but his motives
were pure. Let us however hear himself,
though in this case he appears to have lost
something of his sweetness of temper.
“The truth is, that besides many other
evils, the iniquity and unhappiness of such
oaths and covenants lie much in this, that,
being commonly framed by persons, that even
amongst themselves afe not fully of one
mind, but have their different opinions and
interests to serve—and it was so even in this
—they commonly patched up so many arti-
cles and clauses, and these too of so versatile
and ambiguous terms, that they prove most
wretched snares, and thickets of briers and
thorns to the consciences of those who are
engaged in them, and matter of endless con-
tentions and disputes among them, about the
true sense and intendment, and the ties and
obligations of those doubtful clauses, espe-
cially in such alterations and revolutions of
affairs, as always may, and often do, even
within few years, follow after them, for the
models and productions of such devices are
not usually long-lived. And whatsoever may
be said for their excuse, in whole or in part,
who, in yielding to the power that pressed it,
and the general opinion of this church at
that time, did take that covenant in the most
moderate and least schismatical sense that
the terms can admit; yet I know not what
can be said to clear them of a very great sin,
that not only framed such an engine, but vio-
lently imposed it upon all ranks of men, not
ministers and public persons only, but the
whole body and community of the people,
thereby engaging such droves of poor igno-
rant persons, to they know not what ; and, to
speak freely, to such a hodge-podge of things
of various concernments, religious and civil,
as church discipline and government, the
privileges of parliaments, and liberties of
subjects, and condign punishment of malig-
nants, things hard enough for the wisest and
learnedest to draw the just lines of, and to give
plain definitions and decisions of them, and
therefore certainly as far off from the reach
of poor country people's understanding, as
from the true interest of their souls, and yet
to tie them by a religious oath, either to
know all, or to contend for them blindfold,
without knowing of them.”
These sentiments are contained in his
“Modest Defence of Moderate Episcopacy,”
written after he was a bishop, and consider-
ing the cause he had to defend, might pass
without much observation, although, if car-
ried their proper length, they would exclude
the people from any voice in the choice or
conduct of their rulers, civil and ecclesiasti-
744
APPENDIX.
cal, and lead to the quietude of a settled des-
potism in the church and state. But it is a
painful example of how far partiality for a
side, or the supposed necessity of advocating
a bad cause, may carry a good man, when
We hear him in the next sentence asking,
“Where will be instanced a greater oppres-
sion and tyranny over consciences than this?”
and replying, “Certainly they that now gov-
ern in this church, can not be charged with
anything near or like unto it, for whatsoever
they require of intrants to the ministry, they
require neither subscriptions nor oaths of
ministers already entered, and far less of the
whole body of the people.” Yet at this very
time, had the whole ministry been required
to acknowledge the royal supremacy in mat-
ters ecclesiastical, and own a power in the
church, which they understood to be subver-
sive of that of her head and king: still there
is no divine more clear upon the character of
Christ, as the sole lawgiver and ruler qf his
people, than our author.
While Leighton’s mind was hurt by the
manner in which the Solemn League and
Covenant was pressed, he naturally associ-
ated with those whose sentiments on this
subject accorded with his own. Among them
was the father of Gilbert Burnet, of the
episcopalian persuasion, and particularly at-
tached. to the Hamilton family, with whose
fortunes Leighton had almost associated his
own. After the providence of God had de-
clared against Charles, and he was a captive
in the hands of his opponents, still he might
have returned to his throne with honor,
could he have submitted to be honest, but he
wished to reascend it uncontrolled, and
played a double game that led him to the
scaffold. Unfortunately, the Duke of Hamil-
ton was induced to second his efforts, by
breaking the Solemn League and Covenant
with England, and entering into an engage-
ment with the captive monarch. This en-
gagement—which, if successful, would have
laid the kingdoms prostrate at the feet of an
incensed sovereign, who would give them no
security for all they had been fighting for,
except “the word of a prince,” and that had
been forfeited at least a score of times—di-
vided Scotland; part resolving to maintain
the covenant, and part entering into the en-
gagement. Among those who favored the
latter, were all who had any leaning toward
episcopacy, and Leighton, who had hitherto
kept aloof from the politics of the day, was
most unfortunately induced by his new asso-
ciates, to declare in favor of an engagement,
the terms of which were not fully known
at the time, and which we would in charity
hope were misrepresented to him, as they
were to others: like every effort in favor of
the unhappy Charles, the project failed, and
involved himself and his adherents in deeper
TU III.
The high character of Leighton, and the
friendship of the Earl of Lothian, saved him
from any very serious consequences of his
conduct, while the dominant party showed
their liberality, by sparing so conspicuous an
opponent from any other punishment than
appointing him to rebuke those of his pa-
rishioners who had accompanied the duke in
his disastrous expedition. There is more of
policy than of godly simplicity in the manner
in which he extricated himself from a dilem-
ma that could not fail of being extremely
irksome to an ingenuous mind; and when
parties run so high, and the times were so
perilous, it says a great deal for the forbear-
ance of the presbytery, that such an evasion
of their injunctions was overlooked. When
the parties ordered to make public profession
of their repentance came before him, he told
them they had been in an expedition in which
he believed they had neglected their duty to
God; and had been guilty of injustice and
violence, of drunkenness and other immo-
ralities, and he charged them to repent of
these very seriously, without meddling with
the quarrel or the ground of that war. This
lesson seems to have cured Leighton of med-
dling with politics, as we hear no more upon
this head till after the restoration; but from
the slight notices in Baillie's Letters, it would
appear that he associated with the high-flyers
in the church, who were evangelical in their
preaching, and suspected of favoring the sec-
taries, a predilection which naturally arose
from the inferior weight he gave to differen-
ces upon matters of church-government when
put in competition with personal piety; and
perhaps his laxness On that point, might be
not a little increased by observing the perti-
nacity with which many contended for the
form, who cared very little about the power
of godliness, who were more anxious about
the cut of their vestments than the conduct
of their lives. The numerous sects and va-
rieties of opinion which sprung up at this
time, grievously unhinged men's minds on
these subjects, and the bitterness with which
the sections of the same party often treated
each other, made the quiet of the land wish
for the wings of the dove, that they might
fly thence and be at rest.
From whatsoever cause, in the year 1652,
after the arrival of the second Charles among
the Scots had raised their dissensions to a
height, and brought their affairs to a crisis,
and when his defeat had strengthened the
distractions in the church, and spread a wider
desolation in the country, Leighton tendered
his resignation to the presbytery; this they
declined accepting, and he was persuaded to
remain ; but when there appeared little pros-
pect of settlement among the divided presby-
terians, and increasing bitterness of spirit
between those who wished and prayed for
the restoration of their king, and those who
deprecated such an event from the specimen
they had already received of his conduct and
disposition, he again renewed his request,
and on the 3d of February, 1653, was re-
AIKMAN'S LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
745
leased from his ministerial connexion with
Newbottle, after having labored eleven years
diligently among them.
Nothing tries a man's principles better than
touching his purse, and were we to judge
from the conduct of many who bear the
name of Christian, we should be apt to ima-
gine that the injunction, “Love not the
world, nor the things of the world,” ought to
be inverted; but wisdom is justified of her chil-
dren, and sometimes there do appear men,
whose actions corresponding to their profes-
sion, evince, that setting the affections on
things that are above, and not on things be-
low, is, though a rare, yet a real attainment.
Leighton was one; and a circumstance oc-
curred about this time, which places his esti-
mate of the uncertain riches of time, in a
striking point of view, and which, although
it possesses an appearance of carelessness,
and might possibly mark him out as a fit
prey for pecuniary plunderers, was not by
himself looked back upon during his life
with much pain; and that he got sofar above
the world before he got out of it, will not be
now to his holy spirit any cause of regret.
His father, who had acquired some prop-
erty after his sufferings, having died, left
him about one thousand pounds: this, which
was all his patrimony, his brother-in-law, Mr.
Lightmaker, had advised him to come to
London and get placed in proper security.
Before a month had elapsed, he had occasion
to acknowledge the propriety of his brother's
advice, for the merchant in whose hands the
money was placed became bankrupt, and he
lost all; but as his heart was not with the
treasure that had perished, he was not affected
beyond what a Christian ought.
When the Scottish religious parties could
not agree among themselves, and each were
anxious to obtain an ascendency, the English
parliament, now paramount, appointed se-
questrators, with an ample commission to
superintend the setting aside, or planting
churches, or universities. These uniformly
supported what would now be styled the
evangelical party, then called the remon-
strants, to which Leighton had always ad-
hered, although he had differed on the polit-
ical question of the engagement; and from
among these the sequestrators filled up all the
vacancies that occurred—for they were men of
superior talents, and generally reported of
superior sanctity. And it is here deserving
of especial notice, that the parliament first,
and Cromwell afterward, filled the public
situations in the church and universities of
Scotland, solely with men of acknowledged
abilities and good conduct, and in the civil
courts with judges of strict integrity and
worth.
. In the search after persons capable of fil-
ling eminent stations, Leighton was not over-
looked : he was called to the highly respon-
sible office of principal in the university of
Edinburgh. William Colville, minister of
the Scottish church at Utrecht, had been pre-
viously elected, but as he was a known ene-
my to the existing government, he was set
aside, and the magistrates of the capital, who
have always shown a due submission to the
powers that be, joined in presenting Mr.
Robert Leighton, “who was prevailed with
to accept of it, because in it he was wholly
separated from all church matters.” The min-
isters were joint patrons, but refused to vote,
“because, though they were content with
Mr. Robert Leighton, they were not clear in
the manner of the call.” This event took
place early in 1653, and in the month of July
following, the general assembly was conduct-
ed by Lieut. Col. Cotterell, under a guard of
foot-musqueteers and dragoons, a mile be-
yond Edinburgh, where they were dismissed
and commanded never more to assemble;
government conceiving that they assumed a
civil power inconsistent with the peace of the
realm. Synods and inferior judicatories were
allowed to meet, but from this time all coer-
cive power was removed from the church, and
she was left to wield her own proper arms.
Whether the English parliament interfered
to enforce the covenant or not, is uncertain,
though shortly after it was positively forbid-
den. Leighton, however, both took it him-
self, and enforced it upon others during this
period, so that he can not be considered as
having withdrawn from presbyterian com-
munion till afterward, as indeed there was
no other form of religion professed publicly,
till the independents gave a free toleration to
all, when several sects sprung up, to none of
which could he, as principal of the univer-
sity, have joined himself.
His labors in this office were abundant. He
delivered a theological lecture in Latin once
a week to the students, and at stated inter-
vals preached to them in the college church.
These prelections attracted crowds, who were
charmed with the elegance of his style, and
the animation of his delivery. He did not,
however, confine his attention to his public
duties; in his private conversation with the
young men, he labored to form their minds
to the practice of virtue, and his instructions
were happily enforced by his own example;
indeed, in public or private, religion was the
vital principle of his soul, the element in
which he breathed.
For eight years Scotland enjoyed under the
commonwealth a degree of prosperity and
quiet, such as that country had scarcely ever
known; and Kirkton and other contemporary
writers bear testimony to its being a time in
which religion flourished more than almost
at any period upon record; and so widely
diffused had been the benefits of common
education in the lowlands, particularly the
west and the south, that there was hardly a
family which could not read, and which had
not a bible. Eor these benefits Scotland was
partly indebted to the establishment of parish
schools by the act of 1633, but chiefly to the
94
746
APPENDIX.
assiduity of the parochial clergy, who had
always shown the deepest interest in the ed-
ucation of the peasantry. The unwearied
pains they took, and the good effects which
followed, may be judged of from the carica-
ture which Bishop Burnet draws of a faith-
ful ministry and a godly people, and ma-
king the necessary deductions for his epis-
copalian prejudices, it in the most material
points confirms the perhaps too flattering
picture of Kirkton : “The former incum-
bents,” are his words, “were a grave, solemn
sort of people; their spirits were eager, and
their tempers sour; but they had an appear-
ance that created respect. They were rela-
ted to the chief families in the country, either
by blood or marriage, and had lived in so de-
cent a manner that the gentry paid great re-
spect to them. They used to visit their parishes
much and were so full of the Scriptures, and
so ready at extempore prayer, that from that
time, they grew to practise extempore sermons;
for the custom in Scotland then was, after din-
ner or supper, to read a chapter.in the Scrip-
ture, and where they happened to come, if it
was acceptable, they on the sudden expound-
ed the chapter. They had brought the peo-
ple to such a degree of knowledge, that cot-
tagers and servants would have prayed extem-
pore. I have often overheard them at it; and
though there was a large mixture of odd stuff,
yet I have been astonished to hear how copi-
ous and ready they were in it. Their minis-
ters generally brought them about them on the
Sunday nights, when the sermons were talked
over ; and every one, woman as well as man,
was desired to speak their sense and their
experience, and by these means they had a
comprehension of matters of religion, greater
than I have seen among people of that sort
anywhere.” “And as they [the ministers]
lived in great familiarity with their people,
and used to pray and to talk oft with them in
private, so it can hardly be imagined to what
a degree they were loved and reverenced by
them. They kept scandalous persons under
a severe discipline; for breach of sabbath,
for an oath, or the least disorder in drunken-
ness, persons were cited before the church-
sessions, that consisted of ten or twelve of the
chief of the parish, who with the minister had
this care upon them, and were solemnly re-
proved for it.” “These things had a grave
appearance, their faults and defects were not
so conspicuous.” Leighton, who well knew
that the preservation of such a system depend-
ed, humanely speaking, upon the education of
the ministers themselves, and the providing
suitable teachers, set himself to promote both
these objects, and he obtained an annuity of
£200 from the protector to aid his beneficent
plans, but the death of that great man caused
a universal stagnation of every praiseworthy
project, and the restoration threw the coun-
try half a century back in the progress of im-
provement.
During the vacations he frequently made
excursions to London and to the Continent.
In his visits to the capital he was an occa-
sional attendant at Cromwell's court, of
whose clergymen Burnet makes him give a
very contemptuous character: “They were
men of unquiet and meddling tempers: and
their discourses and sermons were dry and
unsavory, full of airy cant, or of bombast
swellings.” Had the bishop been kind
enough to have given the names of these wor-
thies that he employs the venerated shade
of Leighton to stigmatize, it might have been
possible to judge of the justice of the charge,
at least to discriminate, for never did Eng-
land produce a body of abler divines, freer
from “bombast or swellings”—unless the
overflowing of hearts earnest in the cause of
God were such—than what assembled in the
court and enjoyed the countenance of the
protector; but as a general charge can only
be met by a general answer, I would refer
those who wish to see a fuller account of
some of these traduced ministers, to Orme's
Life of Owen, a work which contains a great
deal of not common information respecting
the ecclesiastical literature of “the secta-
ries,” among whom were men in whose so-
ciety Leighton would have met neither dis-
gust nor degradation.
According to the same authority, however,
the principal found himself more at home
among the Romanists at Douay, and derived
much advantage during his frequent visits to
that college, from the pious lives of some of
these religionists; but Leighton himself has
declared his own opinion of the Roman
catholic system, and of its opposition to
Christianity in its fundamental articles, dis-
tinctly and repeatedly. Now, if a system be
wrong in the foundation, what does it signify
how fair the structure if a man build on
sand, the more precious the materials of his
house, the more terrible the ruin; and if the
Roman catholics have, as Leighton affirms,
vide remarks on 1 Peter, chap. ii. 6, despised
that stone which God hath made the head
of the corner, would any of the Lord's peo-
ple wish to take a pattern from their mode
of moulding for polishing other living stones
of their temple ! . The Romish system is
designated in Scripture, Mystery, Babylon,
the mother of abominations; and instead of
learning from her children, the command is,
“Come out from among them, be ye separa-
ted from them; come out of her, that ye be
not partakers of her plagues.”
With regard to monkish seclusion, to which
some of his friends allege he was partial, he
thus speaks: “This is, among many others, a
misconceit in the Romish church, that they
seem to make holiness a kind of impropriate
good, that the common sort can have littleshare
in almost all piety, being shut up within clois-
ter walls as its only fit dwelling. Yet it hath
not liked their lodging it seems, but is flown
over the walls away from them, for there is
little of it even there to be found; but, how-
AIKMAN'S LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
747
ever, their opinion places it there as having
little to do abroad in the world, whereas the
truth is, that all Christians have this for their
common task, though some are under more
peculiar obligations [alluding to ministers] to
study this one copy.”—Remarks on 1 Peter
iii. 13.
I should not have said so much on a sub-
ject in which our author is so explicit, had
it not been that some of his former biogra-
phers seemed anxious to exalt the papists at
the expense of the presbyterians and independ-
ents, by representing the amiable prelate as
deriving so much advantage from his inter-
course with them, while he was forced al-
most to flee the world, to get rid of the con-
tention and bombast of the others.
At this time in Scotland, as at all times
when a form and profession of religion is
fashionable, a number of formalists and hyp-
ocrites mingled in the crowd, and as hollow
vessels sound loudest, they were generally
the most noisy. To such as these Leighton
sems to allude in an epistle, supposed to have
been written about the same time.*
During the troublous period of the civil
war, the parties, and sects, and sections of
sects, were probably not so numerous as in
the present day, but they were more violent,
inasmuch as religion then was more the oc-
cupation of a man than it is now, and the
public attention was more undividedly di-
rected toward that subject, as general knowl-
edge was neither widely spread, nor much
cultivated by the community at large. Good
men, however of all parties, deplored the
spirit of strife and debate which in too many
instances was allowed to corrode the vitals
of Christianity, and destroy that spirit of
love without which the purest orthodoxy
is of little consequence in promoting the
cause of Christ. Among these Leighton was
conspicuous, and incessant in inculcating the
doctrine of peace and charity, and this he did
by directing the minds of his hearers to the
more important matters of the law, and not
by indifference to any fundamental truth.
The manner in which he fulfilled his duty
toward his pupils while principal of Edin-
burgh university, he explains in a beautiful
valedictory oration which he delivered to the
students before he retired.t
With that admirable address, Leighton ap-
pears to have closed his university labors; a
new scene now began to open upon him, one
for which he suffered much in his reputation
and usefulness among his contemporaries, and
which his admirers, even now, find it hard to
do more than excuse—his abandoning the
presbyterians, and accepting a bishopric from
Charles II. Had Leighton merely exchanged
the presbyterial form for the episcopalian, his
conduct would have admitted of an easy jus-
tification; his earliest sentiments appear to
have been in favor of a modified episcopacy,
unconnected with temporal power, or lordly
* Life, page 38. f Works, pages 721, 722.
state; and the power of a presbytery, when
tyrannically exerted, he considered as more
oppressive than that of a prelate—in which
opinion he entirely coincided with Owen ;
besides, he considered church-government as
a matter of comparatively little moment,
when put in competition with personal holi-
ness, and his meek soul was daily harassed
by angry controversialists who surrounded
him, of many of whom he thought justly,
that, while they contended fiercely for the
form, they felt little of the power of religion.
Changing, therefore, merely from the one
profession to the other, under such circum-
stances, and holding such opinions upon these
matters, would have been comparatively, if
at all, a venial error. But to join hands with
such a set of men as those with whom he as-
sociated, and lend the sanction of his name to
as foul a usurpation of the supreme kingship
of Christ in his church, and as unblushing an
invasion of the rights of Christian people, as
ever was attempted, since the day when tem-
poral potentates first assumed an unholy in-
fluence within her pale, was a proceeding
which it is extremely difficult to account for.
Presbyterian church-government, and civil
liberty, had been solemnly sanctioned by
Charles II. at his coronation at Scoone, and
ratified by the most sacred oaths, and most
awful engagements known among men; an
immense majority of the nation were strongly
attached to it ; and he had promised, in a
written communication to the ministers at
Edinburgh, after his restoration, to preserve
it. But the profligate advisers by whom he
was surrounded, had determined to establish
a civil despotism, to which, from early edu-
cation, and his residence abroad, he was migh-
tily inclined ; and the constitution of the Scot-
tish church being esteemed a barrier, it was re-
solved that it should be swept away; besides,
the king, and several of the leading men, had
found the strictness of presbyterian discipline,
and the decent morality which it required,
totally inconsistent with the licentiousness
they loved, and the conduct they intended to
pursue.
Sharpe, who should have defended, allured
by the primacy, betrayed his church, and a
crowd of sycophants, who hastened to Lon-
don to secure their private interests, were ea-
sily persuaded to join in the false representa-
tion that a majority in Scotland detested the
covenant, and desired its overthrow. Epis-
copacy, therefore, was resolved upon, and the
hated fabric of prelacy, which had been so
triumphantly levelled, was once more to be
reared. Sydserf, the old bishop of Galloway,
was the only fragment of the former hierar-
chy that remained. He had been deposed by
the assembly 1638, for erroneous doctrine, but
was now nominated to the bishopric of Ork-
ney, a much better living. The others were
named chiefly by Sharpe, and promoted on
account of their subserviency to the cause,
rather than from any fitness for the office
748
APPENDIX.
Wiseheart, formerly chaplain to Montrose,
and accused of a military freedom of man-
ners, had Edinburgh, and Fairfoul, a person
of no good fame, got Glasgow ; nor were any
of the rest men of much reputation, either for
learning or sanctity. Leighton alone formed
one exception, and Kirkton, who is not very
willing to praise whoever accepted the pre-
latic dignity, thus notices his appointment:
“Mr. Robert Leighton, then principal of Ed-
inburgh college, was made bishop of Dum-
blane; thus he choised to demonstrate to the
world, avarice was not his principle, it being
the smallest revenue; a man of good learning,
excellent utterance, and very grave abstract
conversation, but almost altogether destitute
of a doctrinal principle, being almost indiffer-
ent, among all the professions that are called
by the name of Christ.” We are indebted to
Burnet for an account of the manner in which
the bishopric was offered, and he was induced
to accept of the nomination.
His brother Elisha had devoted himself to
the court, and in order to serve his ambitious
purposes, had changed his religion ; in this
he appears to have succeeded, for he became
at once a papist, a knight, and Secretary to
the duke of York; he was a person of con-
siderable talents and vivacity, loved to talk
of great sublimities in religion—yet very im-
moral. Living in terms of close intimacy
with Lord Aubigny, a brother of the duke of
Richmond, a great favorite at court, who had
also changed his religion, and though a priest,
was likewise “a very vicious man,” he
brought Mr. Robert Leighton and him to-
gether. Aubigny, who was acquainted with
the then secret of the king's religion, which
was popish, and with his design to establish
it if possible, was induced by the representa-
tions of Sir Elisha, and by the mild manners
of Leighton himself, to suppose that he might
be rendered subservient to the scheme, and
mentioned him to King Charles, who had
sufficient penetration to perceive that the ac-
cession of such a man to the Scottish prelacy
would be of immense importance, named
him himself as one of the number. Leighton
was exceedingly averse at first to the propo-
sal, but the entreaties of royalty, and the ur-
gency of his brother, who expected to rise
still higher through his means, with some
faint expectation that he might be instrumen-
tal in moderating or hearing the differences
of the truly devout of the two persuasions,
overcame his reluctance, and he at last ac-
cepted, yet not without a struggle, as the let-
ter, which is supposed to have been written
while he was deliberating, evinces. It was
addressed to the Rev. Mr. Aird.*
If this letter was written after the first par-
liament in which the king's supremacy was
established, and by which Argyle and Guth-
rie were condemned, it shows how much
Leighton had abstracted himself from the oc-
currences of the day, and how little he was
* Life, page 16.
acquainted with the politico-theological state
of the country, that he should entertain even
the slightest hope of advancing the interest
either of peace or religion, by accepting a
bishopric in Scotland, and connecting him-
self with a band of apostates, who had so ini-
quitously commenced their atrocious career.
His whole life proved, that Leighton was
wholly uninfluenced by sordid or secular mo-
tives; but while we acknowledge his princi-
ples to be pure, and his personal behavior ex-
emplary, it may fairly be questioned how far
in this instance his conduct was justifiable,
in holding fellowship with those who framed
mischief by a law, who gathered themselves
together against the soul of the righteous,
and condemned innocent blood; but as he
foresaw, it proved to him a life of suffering,
and he was, after years of mental anguish,
forced to withdraw from the scene, and from
all participation in measures, of which he left
a strong condemnatory sentence in his af.
firmation to Charles, that “he would not con-
sent to propagate Christianity itself by such
means.”
The following letter appears to have been
written about this time :–
“Dear Friend: I did receive your letter,
which I would have known to be yours,
though it had no other sign but the piety and
affectionate kindness expressed in it. I will
offer you no apology, nor I hope I need not,
for not writing since that to you. I will con-
fess, that if the surprising and unexpected oc-
casion of the bearer had not drawn it from
me, I should hardly for a long time to come,
have done what I am now doing, and yet
still love you more than they do one another
that interchange letters even of kindness, as
often as the gazettes come forth, and as long
as they are too. And now I have begun, I
would end just here: for I have nothing to
say, nothing of affairs to be sure, private nor
public ; and to strike up to discourses of devo-
tion, alas ! what is there to be said, but what
you sufficiently know, and daily read, and
daily think, and, I am confident, daily en-
deavor to do ; and I am beaten back, if I had
a great mind to speak of such things, by the
sense of so great deficiency in doing these
things, that the most ignorant among Chris-
tians can not choose but know. Instead of
all fine notions to fly to kvete Aengov xetsri Aéngov,
I think them the great heroes and excellent
persons of the world, that attain to high de-
grees of pure contemplation and Divine love;
but next to these, them that, in aspiring to
that, and falling short of it, fall down into
deep humiliation and self-contempt, and a
real desire to be despised and trampled on by
all the world. And I believe that they that
sink lowest into that depth, stand nearest to
advancement to those other heights: for the
great King who is the fountain of that honor,
hath given us this character of himself, that
he resists the proud, and gives grace to the
humble. Farewell, my dear friend, and be
AIKMAN'S LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
749
so charitable as sometimes in your addresses
upward to remember a poor caitiff who no
day forgets you. R. L. 13th Dec., 1676.”
Sydserf, the withered twig of the old stem,
not being sufficient to communicate the unde-
finable sacredness of the prelatic character to
a new generation, four of the bishops elect
were summoned to the English capital, to re-
ceive from the fathers of London and Worces-
ter such gifts as they could bestow by the im-
position of their “holy” hands. Sharpe and
Leighton having received presbyterian ordi-
nation, they hesitated about being reordained,
but as it was determined that presbytery
should be destroyed root and branch, that
was declared invalid, and after some short
disputation, they submitted to receive the or-
ders of deacon and priest, previously to their
consecration as bishops. Hamilton and Fair-
foul had previously in 1638 received the or-
ders from the abrogated Scottish hierarchy,
which were held good. To this act, which
desecrated the whole of the Scottish minis-
ters, even had they been inclined to conform,
Leighton is said to have reconciled his mind
by an evasion—that the new ceremony was
only declaratory of his admission into a new
communion, but did not destroy the sanctity
of his former ordination; a distinction which
presbyterians would not readily be brought to
comprehend.
Consecrated, however, they all were at
Westminster, on the 12th December, 1661,
with much clerical splendor, and a series of
feasting between the nobles and the bishops
followed, which grieved Leighton's pious
soul, and gave plain augury of what kind of
church they were about to establish. It is
perfectly clear there was no community of
soul between them ; Sharpe hated and op-
posed him, and even Sheldon “did not much
like his great strictness, in which he had no
mind to imitate him,” though both he and
the rest of the English clergy greatly pre-
ferred him before his brethren, whom he ex-
celled, not more in the extent of his learning,
than in the uprightness of his walk and con-
versation. His trials began almost immedi-
ately.
When the revelry had ceased, he endeav-
ored to prevail upon Sharpe to settle some
plan for their future procedure, and proposed
for his consideration—first, his favorite proj-
ect of attempting to bring about a union be-
tween the presbyterians and them ; next, the
best means for promoting the growth of piety;
and then a method for gradually assimilating
the mode of worship among the two persua-
sions. But he was sorely disappointed to
find that the primate had formed no plan, and
was unwilling to hear of any. He only looked
forward to coercive measures; episcopacy he
knew would be established in the next par-
liament, and when once they were legally
settled in their dioceses, then he said every
bishop must do the best he could to get the
People and clergy to submit to his authority;
which once effected, it would be sufficient
time to proceed to regulate other matters,
Fairfoul had always “a merry tale ready at
hand to divert him” whenever the subject
was started, so that he found it impossible to
hold any serious conversation with him, of
which indeed he did not seem capable. “By
these means,” adds Burnet, “Leighton quick-
ly lost all heart and hope ; and said often
to me upon it, that in the whole progress of
that affair, there appeared such gross charac-
ters of an angry providence, that how fully
soever he was satisfied in his own mind as to
episcopacy itself, yet it seemed that God was
against them, and that they were not like to
be the men that should build up his church
so that the struggling about it seemed to him
like a fighting against God. He who had the
greatest hand in it, Sharpe, proceeded with
so much dissimulation, and the rest of the
order were so mean and so selfish, and the
earl of Middleton, with the other secular men
that conducted it, were so impious and vi-
cious, that it did cast a reproach on every-
thing relating to religion, to see it managed
by such instruments.” About the middle of
next year they set out for Scotland, but Leigh-
ton, understanding that they meant to make
a grand entry into Edinburgh, left them at
Morpeth, and proceeded forward alone; the
rest were received by the magistrates in their
robes, with sound of trumpet, or, as was sar-
castically remarked, “with the sound of the
cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, and dul-
cimer, and all kinds of music,” at the hearing
of which, the people were to fall down, and
worship the prelates whom the king had
made. Leighton proceeded directly to Dum-
blane, and not only declined sharing in these
pageantries, but even requested that his
friends would not give him the title of
“lord,” a request which, however consonant
with the injunctions of his heavenly Master,
was by no means agreeable to his earthly
brethren.
Episcopacy was set up by proclamation,
the meetings of synods and presbyteries were
forbid by the same authority, but it required
an act of parliament to restore the bishops to
their jurisdiction and their seats. This was
done the first of the session in 1662, in the
most ample manner, and as soon as it was
passed, the prelates who were in waiting,
were invited by a deputation from each es-
tate to resume their places in the house,
which they immediately did among the earls
on the right hand of the commissioner, Leigh-
ton on this occasion also forming the only
solitary exception. He was not, however,
long suffered to enjoy his retirement, and the
occasion which called him from it is highly
honorable to his memory. Several minis-
ters, John Carstairs, James Nasmyth, James
Veitch, and some others, were accused of
using seditious language in their sermons,
but the accusations could not be substantia-
ted: as was the custom, however, in these
750
APPENDIX.
times, if a charge was brought against a
presbyterian, and could not be proved, in-
stead of being set free, the oath of allegiance,
in which the king's supremacy in all affairs
civil and ecclesiastical was asserted, was of.
fered them, and they were required to take it
as a mark of loyalty. In this case the minis-
ters were brought before parliament, and had
the oath tendered. They required time to
consider it, and after some days' serious de-
liberation, gave in an explanation, in which
they declared, “they believed the king was
Supreme governor over all persons, and in all
causes, not only civil but ecclesiastic ; but
that the power of the king is, in its own na-
ture, only civil and extrinsic as to causes ec-
clesiastical.” This explanation the commis-
sion refused, upon which a debate arose,
whether an act explanatory of the oath
should be offered to parliament or not; Leigh-
ton strongly urged the propriety of its being
done: the land, he said, mourned by reason
of the multiplicity of oaths, and the words of
the present were certainly susceptible of a
bad sense; the papists in England had been
allowed this privilege of explaining, and he
thought a like tenderness should be shown to
protestants, especially in a case where their
scruples appeared to be just, otherwise it
would look like laying snares for the people,
by making men offenders for a word. Sharpe
replied with great bitterness: he said that it
was beneath the dignity of a government to
frame acts to satisfy the scruples of peevish
men, and it ill became them who had forced
their covenant on all ranks, without distinc-
tion or explanation, to come forward now,
and ask such a license for themselves.”—
“For that very reason,” retorted Leighton,
“it ought to be granted, that the world may
perceive the difference between the present
mild government, and their severity ; nor
does it become persons who complain of that
rigor, to resort to similar harshness, lest thus
it might be said, the world goes mad by
turns.” But his arguments were of no avail;
the ministers were required to take the oath
or undergo the penalty, imprisonment or ex-
ile; they refused to subscribe, and preferred
to suffer: and Leighton had only the conso-
lation of having attempted in vain to avert
their oppression.
For several years we do not meet with the
bishop's name in any of the political transac-
tions of the times, but we find from his
charges to his clergy, and some few letters
which have been preserved, that he was far
more honorably employed, in fulfilling the
spiritual duties of his office. Of the difficul-
ties with which he had to contend, some idea
may be formed, from the character of the
clergy over whom he was called to preside;
this we are enabled to give from an episco-
palian writer, and therefore the less liable to
objection. At the close of the year 1662,
about two hundred faithful ministers of Christ,
rather than violate their consciences, gave up
their livings in the west of Scotland ; and of
these a number belonged to the diocese of
Dumblane, of which an imperfect list is given
in Wodrow's Appendix. To fill their places,
Burnet says, “there was a sort of an invita-
tion sent over the kingdom, like a hue and
cry, to all persons, to accept of benefices in
the west; the livings were generally well
endowed, and the parsonage-houses were
well built and in good repair, and this drew
many very worthless persons thither, who
had little learning, less piety, and no sort of
discretion.” “They were the worst preach-
ers I ever heard, they were ignorant to a re-
proach, and many of them were openly vi-
cious, they were a disgrace to their order
and the sacred function, and were indeed the
dregs and refuse of their northern parts.
Those of them who arose above contempt or
scandal, were men of such violent tempers,
that they were as much hated as the others
were despised. This was the fatal beginning
of restoring episcopacy in Scotland, of which
few of the bishops seemed to have any
sense.” Only two non-conformists’ names
appear in the roll of the presbytery of Dum-
blane, which formed that part of the diocese
more immediately under the bishop's eye;
whether this was owing to the influence and
persuasion of Leighton, or whether the list
be incomplete, it is impossible now to deter-
mine; but I should be rather apt to suppose
the latter, as Wodrow affirms, that the clergy
of the diocese formed no exception to the
general character of these west country
brethren.
No blame, however, can attach to Leigh-
ton for this; he has left us his recorded opin-
ion of the manner in which he thought a
people should be treated, with regard to spir-
itual teachers, in a letter he wrote to the
heritors of Straiton, and which it would be
well did the present patrons of presbyterian
churches imitate.*
The person here recommended was Mr.
James Aird, who had been a minister at In-
gram in Northumberland, and was then re-
siding in Edinburgh ; he was afterward
minister at Torrey, so that it would appear
the heritors at Straiton had not taken the
bishop's advice. The following letter to the
same gentleman, was probably written upon
this occasion ; it is without date. “Dear
Friend : I trust you enjoy that same calm of
mind touching your present concernment, that
I do in your behalf. I dare not promise to
see you at Edinburgh at this time, but it is
possible I may. I know you will endeavor
to set yourself on as strong a guard as you
can, against the assaults you may meet with
there from diverse well-meaning persons, but
of weak understandings and strong passions,
and will maintain the liberty of your own
mind, both firmly and meekly. Our business
is the study of sincerity and pure intention,
and then, certainly our blessed guide will not
* Life, page 20.
AIKMAN'S LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
751
suffer us to lose our way for want of light;
we have his promise, that if in all our ways
we acknowledge him, he will direct our
paths. While we are consulting about the
turns and new motions of life, it is sliding
away, but if our great work in it be going on,
all is well. Pray for your poor friend, R. L.
Dumblane, Jan. 13th.”
We have, in a beautiful epistle—without
date or address—his views of the temper and
disposition he thought those should cultivate,
whom he wished to introduce into the minis-
try.
ºr: of the diocese in Dumblane in the
vicinity of the Highlands, was at this period
among the ruder portions of Scotland, and
from the state of restlessness and contention
in which they were kept up by their neigh-
bors, labored under the demoralizing influ-
ence of border customs; the bishop there-
fore, in his charge, September, 1662, expres-
ses his anxious desire, that “all diligence be
used for the repressing of profaneness, and
for the advancement of solid piety, and that
not only scandals of unchastity, but drunken-
ness, swearing, cursing, filthy speaking, and
mocking of religion, and all other gross offen-
ces be brought under church-censure, and
that scandalous offenders should not be ab-
solved, till there appeared in them probable
signs of true repentance.” Although he does
not mention the discipline of the presbyteri-
ans, he urges upon his clergy the exercise of
the most commendable parts of their practice
-catechising, visiting, and frequent expound-
ing of the Scriptures. At the Reformation,
and before the commonalty could read for
themselves, there were public readers ap-
pointed in the church, and the hour between
the second and third ringing of the kirk bell
on the Sabbath, was usually employed in
reading portions of the Old and New Testa-
ments to the people; this practice, which had
fallen into disuse as education became more
diffused, Leighton wished to revive, and
urged upon his curates the advantage of ma-
king their people well acquainted with the
pure word of God, by carefully reverting to
this good old custom. He also strongly rec-
ommended their taking large portions of
Scripture, and lecturing from them, rather
than raising a theme from a single text, for
he thought a number of short practical ob-
servations from a series of verses, preferable
to a long dissertation from one.
He wished likewise to establish daily pub-
lic prayer, and reading the Scriptures morning
and evening in churches, in as far as these
did not interfere with the private or family
worship of the people; which duties he was
extremely anxious to promote: as he was
also of a more frequent celebration of the
Lord's Supper; but, above all, he propounded
to the brethren, that it was to be reminded
by himself and them, both to how eminent
degrees of purity of heart and life their holy
* Life, page 20.
calling did engage them, and to how great
contempt of this present world, and inflamed
affections toward heaven, springing from
deep persuasions within them of those things
they preached to others; and that they should
be meek and gentle, and lovers and exhorters
of peace private and public, among all
ranks of men; endeavoring rather to quench
than to increase, the useless debates and
contentions that abounded in the world, and
be always more studious of pacific, than po-
lemic divinity.
While this excellent prelate was assidu-
ously, but calmly, endeavoring to alleviate
the evils by which he was environed, the
furious and insane council, dogged by the
unprincipled crew of bishops and curates,
who were determined to force upon the na-
tion a hierarchy they universally detested,
proceeded with the most cruel and inconsid.
erate rashness, to desolate the church and the
country by measures to which no conscien-
tious and enlightened people could ever sub-
mit. Oaths opposed to every principle which
had been recognised as sacred for nearly
thirty years in Scotland, were proposed to
men who feared an oath, and those who sin-
cerely believed in the divine institution of
presbytery, were required to renounce it,
merely because their rulers deemed it expe-
dient that they should do so, and to join a
church whose form they considered unscrip-
tural ; and whose clergy they viewed, and if
Burnet’s description be true, justly viewed, as
children of the devil.
Had the people been like their priests or
their rulers, indifferent at once to the reality
and the form of religion, whatever guilt
might have attached to compliance, there
would have been little hardship: but edu-
cated as they had been, and well informed
and well grounded as they were in their
principles, numbers chose rather to suffer
than to sin, and counted not their lives dear
unto the death, that they might hold fast
their integrity; the consequence was, that
the land, like the prophet's scroll, from one
end to the other, was lamentation, and mourn-
ing, and wo. Leighton, placed in the most
trying of all possible situations, wept over
what he could not prevent; and, after a sick-
ening struggle of about three years, resolved
to withdraw from a situation as painful as it
was unprofitable. In October, 1665, after the
business was over, he communicated his in-
tention to the synod. In a short address, he
told them that all the account he could give
of the reasons moving him to it, was briefly
the sense he had of his own unworthiness of
so high a station in the church, and his wea-
riness of their contentions, which seemed
rather to be growing than abating ; and by
their growth, to make so great abatements
of that Christian meekness and mutual char-
ity, that is so much more worth than the
whole sum of all they contended about. He
then thanked the brethren for all their unde-
752
APPENDIX.
served respect and kindness manifested to
himself, and desired their good construction
of the poor endeavors he had used, to serve
and to assist them in promoting the work of
the ministry, and the great designs of the
gospel in their bounds; and if in anything, in
Word or deed, he had offended them, or any
of them, he very earnestly and humbly
craved their pardon; , and having recom-
mended them to continue in the study of
peace and holiness, and of ardent love to our
great Lord and master, and to the souls he
hath so dearly bought, he closed with these
words of the apostle: “Finally, brethren,
farewell; be perfect, be of good comfort, be
of one mind, and live in peace, and the God
of peace and love shall be with you.”
He was however prevailed upon, first to
proceed to court, to give a faithful represen-
tation of the miseries of the country, which
he the more willingly did, as it was then sup-
posed that the king's easy, careless good na-
ture, imposed upon by Sharpe, would, when
undeceived, sympathize with the sufferers,
and consent to more moderate methods. But
Charles was an accomplished profligate, and
one of the most selfish of mortals; his own
enjoyment was the sole end of his existence,
to that he sacrificed honor, Veracity, and
friendship, and everything that an honest
man would have held estimable; he had
however a plausibility of manner, that im-
posed on the guileless or superficial observer.
Leighton was imposed upon. When intro-
duced to the king, he told him freely that the
proceedings in Scotland were so violent, that
he would not concur in planting the Christian
religion itself in such a manner, much less a
form of church government; and he there-
fore begged leave to quit his bishopric, and
retire, for while he retained it, he thought he
Was in some manner accessory to the violence
of the ecclesiastics with whom he was asso-
ciated; as it was given out that all these
Outrages were intended to establish their or-
der. The king seemed touched with the
Statements when he heard them, and prom-
ised that more lenient measures should be
Pursued; laid the blame chiefly on Sharpe,
and insisted upon the bishop's resuming his
labors. According to Burnet, the consequence
of these representations was an order from
Charles to discontinue the ecclesiastical com-
mission, and perhaps the king might claim
some little, merit with Leighton for this, but
the Scottish historians assert, that that court
had already become contemptible with all
ranks and parties; and, no longer able to
carry its own oppressive decrees into execu-
tion, was, if not defunct, at least on the point
of expiring.
Leighton however returned with renewed
expectations, but it was only to meet with
renewed disappointment. Sharpe at the
head of the council managed all as he chose
—persecution continued to increase—and re-
ligious men were confined, imprisoned, and
banished, because they would not consent to
attend the ministrations of those curates
whose character we have quoted above from
an eyewitness, and an episcopalian. Leigh-
ton could only sigh, like the prophet, “Oh
that I had in the wilderness a lodging-place
of wayfaring men, that I might leave my
people, and go from them l’” His letters in
general want dates, and of course can not be
accurately arranged, but a fragment quoted
by Jerment may not improperly be placed
about this time: “Thorns grow everywhere,
and from all things below, but to a soul trans-
planted out of itself into the root of Jesse,
peace grows everywhere too, from him who
is called our peace, and whom we still find
the more to be so, the more entirely we live
in him, being dead to this world and self, and
all things beside him. O when shall it be
Well ! Let all the world go as it will, let
this be our only pursuit and ambition, and to
all other things, Fiat voluntas tua, Domine,
‘Lord, thy will be done !’”
ln the political arrangements respecting
the church, he had never taken much part,
but in the meetings of his synod he appears
to have been more interested, though, from a
wish not to appear haughty or domineering,
he had suffered irregularities to pass unno-
ticed, which it would have required a strong-
er hand to repress. “I confess,” says he, in
his address to them, April, 1667, “I confess
that my own inactive and unmeddling temper
may be too apt to prevail against the known
duty of my station, and may incline me rather
to inquire too little than too much into the
deportment of others; and rather to be defi-
cient, than to exceed in admonitions and ad-
vices to my brethren in matters of their duty;
and besides this natural aversion, the sense
of my own great unworthiness and filthiness
may give me check, and be a very strong
curb upon me, in censuring others for what
may be amiss, or in offering any rules for the
redress of it. And there is yet another con-
sideration that bends still further that way,
for I am so desirous to keep far off from the
reach of that prejudice that abounds in these
parts against the very name of my sacred
function, as apt to command and domineer
too much, that I may possibly err on the
other hand, and scarce perform the duty of
the lowest and most moderate kind of mode-
rator, so that I am forced to spur and drive
myself against all these retardments, to sug-
gest anything, how useful soever, beyond our
road or accustomed way, especially, finding
how little anything of that kind takes and
prevails to any real effect.” g
This humble and mild introduction was
prefixed to a charge intended to remind them
of their inattention to former instructions
and admonitions, and to recommend particu-
larly the “privy trials” of ministers in their
presbyteries: these were examinations by
the presbytery into the doctrine their mem-
bers preached, the manner in which they ful-
AIKMAN'S LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
753
filled the duties of their office, and their moral
and Christian conduct as ministers of the gos-
pel; in which he said he had perceived in
some places very much of superficial and
empty form. He therefore proposed a series
of queries for their consideration, which he
thought might be useful: “For though,” he
remarks, “we can have nothing but every
man’s own word concerning himself, yet this
does not render it a useless thing, for besides
that divers of the questions will be of things
so obvious to public knowledge, that no man
will readily adventure to give an untrue an-
swer where it may be so easily traced, there
is much to be given to the presumed ingenuity
and yeracity of a minister, especially in what
is solemnly and punctually inquired of him—
and whatsoever formerly hath been or hath
not been, his former degree of diligence in
the particulars, the very inquiry and asking
concerning them will be apt to awake in
every man a more serious reflection upon
himself touching each point.”
These questions were—whether he were
assiduous in plain and profitable preaching 2
diligent in catechising 2 frequent in celebra-
ting the communion ? faithful in the exercise
of discipline 2 attentive in visiting his flock 2
careful of the relief of the poor 2 and plain
and free in admonishing open transgressors ?
Then, as the personal conduct of the clergy-
man was what could alone give weight and
efficacy to his reproofs and instructions, more
pointed queries followed: whether he watch-
ed exactly over his own conversation, not
only giving no offence, but being an example
to his flock, and preaching by his living 2
whether it be the great pleasure of his life to
fulfil the work of his ministry 2 if he does
not only avoid gross offences, intolerable in a
guide of souls, but studies daily to mortify
pride, rash anger, vain glory, covetousness,
and love of this world, and sensual pleasures,
&c., and finally, whether he be at peace with
his brethren, and be an ardent lover and pro-
moter of it among the people?
From his pastoral charges it will be per-
ceived that Leighton prized highly some of
the characteristic features of presbytery, and
it redounds greatly to his honor, that he not
only did not persecute the profession he had
forsaken, or behave harshly toward his for-
mer fellow-laborers, but he retained as much
of the form as he legally could, and as much
of the practice as was attainable, while he
treated the “outed” ministers as his breth-
ren. He thought, however, that the mode of
conducting public worship admitted of im-
provement, especially with regard to reading
the scriptures when the congregation was
assembled, these he recommended to be read
in larger portions, and also that the Lord's
prayer, the ten commandments, and the
creed, should be more frequently repeated; a
practice for which he had the authority of
the earlier reformers. How far Dumblane
profited by his unwearied exertions and pious
example, it is impossible to say; but as he is
still held in grateful remembrance in that
quarter, it is reasonable to suppose that his
labors were not altogether in vain.
Among his fellow prelates his conduct had
only the effect of deepening the shade of
their turpitude by the purity of its lustre.
“I observed,” says Burnet, “the deportment
of our bishops was in all points so different
from what became their function, that I had
a more than ordinary zeal kindled within me
upon it. They were not only furious against
all that stood out against them, but were very
remiss in all the parts of their function. Some
did not live within their dioceses, and those
who did, seemed to take no care of them.
They showed no zeal against vice; the most
eminently wicked in the country were their
particular confidants, they took no pains to
keep their clergy strictly to rules and to their
duty; on the contrary, there was a levity and
a carnal way of living about them, that very
much scandalized me.” And he tells us,
that in a memorial which he wrote upon this
occasion, he showed how they had departed
from the primitive church, by neglecting
their dioceses, meddling so much in secular
affairs, raising their families out of the reve-
nues of the church, and above all, by their
violent persecuting of those who differed
from them. While Leighton was pursuing
his peaceful and holy avocations, the primate
was revelling in the blood of the unfortunate
covenanters, whom oppression had driven to
resistance, and who had been scattered at
Pentland, and the whole west and south were
filled with prelatic vengeance, and legal and
military executions.
Political events, 1667, which for a short
time terrified Charles from his despotic pro-
jects, transferred the management of Scottish.
affairs into the hands of Lord Tweedale,
who, together with Lauderdale, by whom he
was supported, was disgusted with the vio-
lence of Sharpe and his associates, and wished
to restore his suffering country to some kind
of tranquillity. Ecclesiastical grievances be-
ing the chief source of all the distractions,
he entered into a close communication with
the bishop of Dumblane, who was again pre-
vailed upon to go to London, where he had
two audiences of the king; in these, he rep-
resented with honest freedom the madness of
the former administration of church affairs,
and the necessity of more moderate councils;
Charles listened, and promised, and did
nothing. Leighton returned to his charge,
where he remained, till in 1669 he was again
called upon by Tweedale to make a new eſ-
fort for restoring peace to the church. Ever
anxious to promote this object, the dearest to
his heart, he hastened to lend what assistance
he could. He proposed that a treaty of ac-
commodation should be attempted with the
presbyterians, for the purpose of setting the
differences completely at rest, by each party
yielding somewhat of their alleged rights and
95
754
APPENDIX.
mutual demands. His plan was somewhat
similar to that species of episcopacy under
which he had been trained, and on which
he acted in his own diocese; he proposed
that the church courts should be retained,
and that the bishops and ministers should act
together in them, the bishops being ex-officio
perpetual presidents, or moderators—that the
presbyterians should be allowed, when they
first sat down in these judicatories, to de-
clare, that their sitting under a bishop was
submitted to by them only for peace’ sake,
with a reservation of their opinion with rela-
tion to any such presidency—and that no
negative vote should be claimed by the bish-
op: that bishops should go to the churches,
in which such as were to be ordained were
to serve, and hear and discuss any exceptions
that were made to them, and ordain them
with the concurrence of the presbytery: that
such as were to be ordained, should have
leave to declare their opinion, if they thought
the bishop was only the head of the presby-
ters. And he also proposed, that there should
be provincial synods to sit every third year,
or oftener if the king should summon them,
in which complaints of the bishops should be
received, and they censured if deserving.
Burnet’s expression is amusing, “and they
should be censured accordingly,” implying
perhaps unintentionally, what was really the
fact, that if their conduct were ever brought
before a church, censure must be the inevita-
ble consequence. The same writer alleges,
that Leighton, in making these concessions,
acted upon the same policy that James VI.
did, only let the bishops, however loosely,
be peaceably acknowledged, and they will
gradually and eventually acquire a complete
power in the church. This, for the sake of
Leighton's character, I am willing to believe
a misconception of his views. It is not im-
probable that the statesmen with whom he
associated might have used such arguments
to influence the episcopalians to comply
with propositions which went to reduce their
antichristian domination, but that Leighton
ever, held out any such inducements, is not
at all likely, especially as in the above propo-
'sitions he seems only to have embodied his
earliest principles. The Earl of Kincardine,
one of the leaders in the council, was not
averse to concessions being granted to the
presbyterians; but he was of opinion that
these concessions ought to be legalized by
an act of parliament, and then it was proba-
ble they would submit to what they could not
help, while, if proposed beforehand, they
would set themselves to state objections, and
render an agreement, more hopeless than
ever. Leighton coincided with him in opin-
ion, and Burnet was despatched to sound Mr.
Hutchison, a cousin-german of his own, and
in high repute among the presbyterians, but
he was of opinion it would not meet the
wishes of either party. Lauderdale objected
because, being the chief manager of Scottish
affairs, and suspected of favoring the presby-
terians, he was afraid lest the English bishops
should think he was sacrificing the cause of
episcopacy to their enemies. The idea of an
accommodation between the parties was
therefore given up at this time.
Yet the state of the country required that
something should be done. The people
would not attend the places where the cu-
rates, “a set of men so ignorant and so scan-
dalous,” officiated, while they flocked to
hear the zealous and able presbyterian, or, as
they were then called, “outed” ministers,
who now were forced to betake themselves
to the fields, and beneath the wide canopy of
heaven, proclaim the truths of the everlast-
ing gospel. It was in consequences suggest-
ed, that a number of these ministers should
be allowed to serve in the vacant parishes
under certain restrictions, a fettered liberty,
in opposition to the standing law of the coun-
try, which was granted by the king under
the ironical name of an “indulgence,” and
which was followed by one of the most op-
pressive acts that ever was framed for bur-
dening the consciences of men, whose high-
est crime was contending for the headship of
Christ in his church.
This was the first of the parliament 1669,
asserting his majesty's supremacy over all
persons, and in all cases ecclesiastical, by
virtue whereof, the ordering and disposal of
the external government and policy of the
church was declared properly to belong to
the king, and his successors, as an inherent
right of the crown. This, which was an ea.
post facto legalizing of the king's stretch of
power in granting an indulgence,” was not
agreeable to Leighton, yet he voted for it,
although he afterward expressed his regret
at having allowed himself to be betrayed
into such a compliance. Burnet, archbishop
of Glasgow, and all “his set,” who allowed
the king every exorbitant prerogative that
he chose to claim, when the object was to
crush presbytery, now complained loudly
when the prerogative was exerted to ſavor it.
His majesty's supremacy asserted by the act,
was immediately applied to chastise such in-
Solence, and his grace of Glasgow, rather
than dispute the point, took the hint, and re-
tired for a time upon a pension.
No one of the worldly, ambitious, and de-
tested prelates, possessed either the esteem
of the people, or the confidence of the gov-
ernment; Leighton in these respects stood
alone, and his pre-eminence pointed him out
as the only fit person to fill the arch-episco-
pate Burnet had been forced to resign. “It
was easily found,” Sir George Mackenzie re-
marks, “ that the bishop of Dumblane was
* Burnet says the words “ecclesiastical matters”
were interpolated after Leighton had seen the act;
but this is a very lame justification—the very title of
the bill implied them, and the whole bill, not a very
long one, asserts in the most unqualified manner the
ecclesiastical supremacy of the king. Leighton's
easiness of temper is the only excuse.
AIKMAN'S LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
755
the most proper and fit person to serve the
state in the church according to the present
platform of government now resolved upon ;
for he was in much esteem for his piety and
moderation among the people, and as to
which the presbyterians themselves could
neither reproach nor equal him. Albeit they
hated him most of all his fraternity, in re-
spect he drew many into a kindness for epis-
copacy by his exemplary life, rather than de-
bates. His great principle was, that devo-
tion was the great affair about which church-
men should employ themselves, and that the
gaining of souls, and not the external gov-
ernment, was their proper task; nor did he
esteem it fit, and scarce lawful to church-
men to sit in councils and judicatories, these
being diversions from the main. And albeit
his judgment did lead him to believe the
church of England the best modelled of all
others, both for doctrine and discipline; yet
did he easily conform with the practice of the
Christians among whom he lived, and there-
fore lived peaceably under presbytery till it
was abolished. And when he undertook to be
a bishop himself, he opposed all violent cour-
ses, whereby men were forced to comply with
the present worship beyond their persuasions;
and he had granted a latitude and indulgence
to those of his own diocese, before the king
had allowed any by his letter. This made the
world believe that he was author to his maj-
esty of that public indulgence, and the states-
men who were unwilling to be authors of an
innovation, which some there thought might
prove dangerous, were well satisfied to have
it so believed ; but however, these principles
rendered him a fit instrument in their pres-
ent undertaking.” The earls of Lauderdale
and Tweedale therefore urged him to accept
the see, but he was strongly averse, and for
Some time so resolutely declined, that Gil-
bert Burnet, professor of divinity in Glasgow,
and all his friends, became exceedingly unea-
sy, and it was only the hope of being able to
achieve an accommodation that at length in-
duced him to consent to the proposal; though
only to hold the see in commendan, that is,
administer the affairs without being ordained
to the office.
As soon as he had agreed to accept, the
king commanded his attendance at court, and
on his way thither he called upon the profes-
Sor, with whom he had a long consultation,
but received poor encouragement, for Burnet
says, he told him that he expected little
good, only he thought an accommodation not
altogether impracticable. Upon his arrival
in London, he found Lauderdale strangely
altered in his temper, for having triumphed
over all his rivals, he was become fierce and
intractable ; the scheme of accommodation
was judged improper, and toleration by royal
authority, was deemed the preferable mode
for conciliating the country, and exalting his
majesty's prerogative. Yet the archbishop's
arguments prevailed with the king, and his
plan, corrected by Sir George Murray, was
turned into instructions for Lauderdale, the
lord high commissioner, with authority to
legalize all the concessions; but from what
afterward appeared, there was every reason
to believe that Charles had, with his usual
duplicity, given secret directions that the
whole should be frustrated.
Being fully occupied with his new charge,
the archbishop found it impracticable to at-
tend the meeting of the Dumblane synod
this year, but he still was careful for their
welfare, and sent them a truly pastoral let-
ter.3%
He was not less anxious about the good
conduct of the clergy in his new charge. He
found the whole country filled with reports
to their disadvantage, which, as we have
seen by Burnet's account, were far from be-
ing ill founded. The archbishop therefore
appointed a committee, consisting, not of the
members of his own synod alone, who were
too notorious themselves to be trusted with
any such delicate task, but comprising those
who stood fairest in the episcopal church,
Mr. Charters, Mr. Nairn, and Mr. Aird, to
take cognizance of the complaints that might
be lodged against them. So soon, however,
as the council were apprized of the measure,
under pretext of countenancing and assisting
the committee in discharge of their duty,
they nominated Sir John Cochrane, of Ochil-
tree, Sir Thomas Wallace, Sir John Cun-
ningham, Sir John Harper, the provost of
Glasgow and Air, to attend and act along
with them, but in reality to prevent too rigid
an exercise of discipline, for they knew the
west country curates could not bear even the
mild inspection of Leighton; and the conse-
quence was, that the good intentions of the
archbishop were rendered almost entirely
abortive.
The committee met in September, when
the parishioners were invited to lodge their
complaints, but their first acts went to nar-
row as much as possible the avenues to re-
dress; they required, that whoever did not
fully substantiate by legal proof any com-
plaint he brought forward against a minister,
should stand before the congregation clothed
in sackcloth as a slanderer. This effectually
prevented many, who were aware of the dif-
ficulty of proving what they knew to be true,
from coming forward; but there were some
cases so flagrant, that the curates rather pre-
ferred to take a little money and retire, than
stand trial, with all these advantages; of the
accusations that came before them, the re-
sult was—one deposed, and four removed to
other charges; what the crimes were that
that they visited thus heavily, we are not in-
formed, but if we may judge from one case
which they dismissed without reproof, they
were no trifles.
It is thus recorded by Kirkton, who was no
friend of Leighton, and reflects not more dis-
* Life, page 32.
756
APPENDIX.
credit on the unworthiness of the committee,
than honor on the zeal of Leighton: “One
Jeffray, curat of Maybole, sometime before al-
leadged he hade been assaulted for his life by
his parishioners, and this he proved by pro-
ducing a book which hade been contused by
a pistoll ball, and this book he alleadged hade
saved his life; for he said he hade it upon
his breast betwix his uppercoat and his doub-
let, but his uppercoat was neither pierced
nor contused. However, he brought his com-
plaint against his people, before the commit-
tee that sat at Air about that time. This he
did in hopes to get his paroch fyned in 100
lib. English, and the money to himself; but
because he not only failed in his evidence,
but by the circumstance of the action made
all Scotland say he hade contused the book
with his own pistoll, no money he got, but
the hatred of the people. These thinking
they may now have justice before this goodly
purgeing committee, accuse him there, and
prove him guilty of many gross scandals,
such as swearing, strikeing, fighting, and
drunkenness, notwithstanding all which, the
committee absolved him, which made Leigh-
ton so much ashamed, that out of the pleni-
tude of his power, he thought fit to forbid
him the exercise of his ministry.”
For some time Leighton continued to re-
side partly at Dumblane, and partly at Glas-
gow, but being consecrated in the month of
{)ctober, he took full possession of the arch-
bishopric, and went to reside in the city of
Glasgow. His predecessor had used every
violent method to force the people to attend
the ministrations of the vile, immoral, and
illiterate crew of curates who filled the pul-
pits in the west, and when the soldiers left his
diocese, lamented that they had carried the
gospel along with them . He proceeded upon
a very different plan. Soon after his settle-
ment he held a synod of his clergy. As was
to be expected, their churches were deserted,
and themselves despised; and never consid-
ering that their own conduct, and want of
ministerial talents, were the true reasons of
their being treated with contempt by a well-
informed and a religious people, they had ex-
pected that their new right reverend father
would, like the former, collect their scattered
flocks by the aid of military evangelists:–
He preached to them, and in his discourses,
both public and private, exhorted them to
look up more to God, to consider themselves
as the ministers of the cross of Christ, to bear
the contempt and ill usage they met with, as
a cross laid on them for the exercise of their
faith and patience; to lay aside all the appe-
tites of revenge, to humble themselves be-
fore God, to have many days for frequent
fasting and prayer, and to meet often togeth-
er, that they might quicken and assist one
another in holy exercises, and then they
might expect blessings from Heaven upon
their labors: “This,” adds Burnet, “ was a
new strain to the clergy—they had nothing
to say against it, but it was a comfortless
doctrine to them l’” There was no quarter-
ing of soldiers, and no levying of fines—so
they went home as little edified with their
new bishop, as he was with them.
Grieved at the low state of his episcopal
clergy, the good man looked with an eye of
longing regard to his former esteemed and
pious co-presbyters, and visited several of the
indulged ministers, for the pmrpose of persua-
ding them to listen to propositions of peace,
but he found the truth of Solomon’s observa-
tion, that “a brother offended is harder to be
won than a strong city, and their contentions
are like the bars of a castle.” He told them
that some of their number would quickly be
sent for to Edinburgh, where conciliatory
terms would be offered them—that they
would be met in sincerity, and without arti-
fice, and if they in return would cordially ac-
quiesce, the concessions would be turned into
laws, and all the vacancies would be filled
up with their brethren. The ministers who
had suffered severely, and were well ac-
quainted with the character of the Scottish
rulers, both civil and ecclesiastical, whose
whole conduct toward them had been a uni-
form system of oppression and deceit, re-
ceived the archbishop's communications with
great coolness; they suspected the proffer to
be, what we now know it to have been, upon
the part of the government, a snare to entrap
and to divide them ; and they answered with
prudent caution, that it was a matter of gen-
eral concern to the whole body, in which
they as individuals could do nothing.
Although it might have been anticipated,
yet the reception he met with grieved and dis-
couraged Leighton, who began to lose heart
in a negotiation where he had to struggle
with so many difficulties, tyranny, and insin-
cerity, on the part of the government, and
well-grounded suspicion and conscientious
scruples on the part of the sufferers. He did
not, however, give up his endeavors; with
him it was a labor of love, and however much
mistaken in his views, he was without doubt
sincerely aiming at the blessing pronounced
on the peacemakers. At his request, Lau-
derdale wrote to some of the most eminent
of the indulged ministers in his diocese,
among whom were Mr. Hutchison, Mr.
Wedderburn, and Mr. Baird, requiring them
to attend a conference before himself, Twee-
dale, and Kincardine, at Edinburgh, Au-
gust 9, 1670. Sharpe would not appear, but
Patterson (afterward archbishop of Glasgow)
was present along with Leighton. The latter
opened the business by deploring the divisions
that prevailed among them, and the mischief
they had done; that souls were perishing
while they were contending about matters of
infinitely less importance, and entreated them
to do each what lay in his power to heal so
disastrous a breach: for his own part he was
convinced, that from the days of the apostles,
there always existed an order of bishops su-
AIKMAN'S LIFE OF ARCHIBISHOP LEIGHTON.
757
perior to presbyters in the church, and that
complete equality among clergymen had nev-
er been heard of till the middle of the last
century, when it was introduced rather by ac-
cident than design ; yet in the proposition he
had to make, he would not insist upon this—
by his plan they would not be required to sur-
render their opinions on that point, while
they might unite in preaching the gospel, and
carrying on all the ends of their ministry.
They had moderators among them, which
was no divine institution, but only a matter
of order ; the king, therefore, might name
them; and making them constant, was cer-
tainly no such encroachment on their rights,
as should break the peace of the church; nor
did blessing them with imposition of hands,
when they entered upon their office, imply
any invalidity in their former ordination—
they were still ministers. Some imagined
that a new authority was conferred, but they
would be required to submit to nothing more
than to their presidency, and even as to that
would be allowed to exonerate themselves,
by protesting as formally and publicly as they
chose. Hutchison replied: he said their
opinion, respecting a parity among ministers,
was well known—that the presidency now
proposed, had formerly served to introduce a
lordly dominion in the church, and however
inconsiderable their present pretensions might
be, they would serve to pave the way for
future higher demands, and therefore re-
quested time to consider and consult with
his brethren.
A second meeting was accordingly appoint-
ed in November, when the whole dined to-
gether by the Lord High Commissioner Lau-
derdale's invitation. After dinner his lord-
ship joined them, in hopes that his presence
might awe the parties into mutual concession;
but when he found that the presbyterians
were not prepared to surrender their princi-
ples, he was with difficulty restrained from
bursting out into one of his outrageous fits of
passion, by which he had latterly been accus-
tomed to overawe his political adversaries.
Leighton, who knew how vain it would be,
persuaded him to rest quietly, and hear the
ministers’ objections. They were the same
as stated at the former meeting, in which
they had been confirmed by reflection and in-
tercourse with the other presbyterians, who
all coincided in opinion, that the accommoda-
tion was merely a scheme to lull their vigi-
lance asleep, and render them subservient to
the triumphant establishment of episcopacy,
when the present supporters of presbyterian-
ism should be laid in the grave.
Thus the conference ended without being
productive of any advantage to the archbish-
6p's wished-for conciliation; but the presby-
terians were not the only enemies to an ad-
justment, although perhaps the only consci-
entious ones. Sharpe was violently against
the accommodation. “Episcopacy,” he ex-
claimed, “was undermined;” and the infe-
rior clergy, Burnet tells us, hated the whole
thing, “for they thought, if the presbyterians
were admitted into churches, they would be
neglected.”
When the conference ended, Leighton did
not despair: he knew the aversion the people
had to come to any terms with the profligate
clergy of a persecuting church, and he also
knew the influence which their decided opin-
ions in this matter had upon the ministers.
He therefore adopted another method for at-
taining his darling object, and endeavored to
engage them upon his side; he could get no
assistance from his own diocese. “The epis-
copal clergy in the west could not argue much
for anything, and would not at all argue in
favor of a proposition they hated ;” but he
employed six divines of that persuasion, of a
higher character, and from a different quar-
ter—Messrs. Burnet, Charters, Nairn, Aird,
Cook, and Patterson—to perambulate the
country, preach in the vacant churches, and
explain to their hearers the grounds of the
accommodation. They were tolerably, not
numerously attended, and they had little suc-
cess in the object of their mission; they had
to do with a people who understood the sub-
ject, and who seem to have astonished the
episcopalians. “We were indeed amazed to
see a poor commonalty,” says one of their
number, “so capable to argue upon points of
government, and on the bounds to be set to
the power of princes in matters of religion ;
upon all these topics they had texts of scrip-
ture at hand, and were ready with their an-
swers to anything that was said to them.
This measure of knowledge was spread even
among the meanest of them, their cottagers
and their servants. They were indeed vain
of their knowledge, much conceited of them-
selves, and were full of a most entangled
scrupulosity, so that they found and made dif-
ficulties to everything that could be laid be-
fore them.”
Another attempt was yet again made by
Leighton for accommodation. But at the very
moment when he was holding out proffers of
friendship, the parliament were enacting stat-
utes of blood l Can it be at all wonderful in
such a case, that the negotiations terminated
unfortunately 2 His opponents knew, that
however they might be disposed to trust him,
not the smallest confidence could be placed in
his associates. They notwithstanding met
him, first at Paisley, where twenty-six or
thirty presbyterian ministers were present.
There some small alteration was made in his
overtures, but Messrs. Hutchison, Wedder-
burn, Baird, and their companions, still per-
ceived the horns of the mitre, and, with the
old fathers of presbytery, refused to accept
º even when “busket ever sae bom-
mily.”
Two meetings upon the 11th and 26th of
January, 1671, at Holyrood-house, closed the
conferences. In one of these, Leighton of.
fered to dispute for episcopacy against pres-
758
APPENDIX.
bytery; but this being illegal, and what might
have subjected his opponent to a capital pun-
ishment, Mr. Hutchison refused. On which
Burnet, who was present, appearing to tri-
umph, Mr. Wedderburn declared he would
accept the challenge, if the lord chancellor
would authorize him ; but his lordship decli-
ning, no more was said upon the subject.
Finding all his endeavors to promote peace
and concord ineffectual, and his plans either
thwarted, or at least not seconded by those
from whom he might have expected support,
he resolved, as infirmities were beginning to
threaten him, to retire from a field in which
there was no prospect of usefulness. He was
suspected by the high episcopalian party, and
had no influence with the presbyterians; and
in reply to the arguments of Burnet for his
continuing in that station, he said, “his work
seemed to be at an end ; he had no more to
do, unless he had a mind to please himself
with the lazy enjoying a good revenue.” . A
mode of spending the residue of life very dif.
ferent from what he contemplated. “Our
joint business,” said he in a letter to his sis-
ter, apparently written about this time, “is to
die daily to this world and self, that what
little remains of our life, we may live to Him
that died for us. For myself, to what pur-
pose is it to tell you, what the bearer can,
that I grow old and sickly, and though I have
here great retirement, as great, and probably
greater than I could readily find anywhere
else, yet I am still panting after a retreat
from this place, and all public charge, and
next to rest in the grave. It is the pressing-
est desire I have of anything I have in this
world, that I might be with you or near you.
But our heavenly Father, we quietly resign-
ing all to him, both knows and will do what
is best.” This letter is dated from Dumblane,
to which place he delighted to resort during
the intervals of his archiepiscopal labors, and
whence he wrote an admirable pastoral letter
to his synod.*
He had found Lauderdale extremely un-
willing to accept of his resignation, as that
nobleman knew well the value of such a
character for supporting the already almost
hopeless hierarchy in Scotland; he therefore,
in the summer of 1673, repaired to London,
and tenderedit personally to the king. Charles,
too, was averse to his retirement, but the
archbishop was resolute, and his majesty
agreed, that if he would continue another
year upon trial, he should then be allowed to
resign, if still of the same mind. He returned
rejoicing with the royal engagement in wri-
ting, and observed to Dr. Burnet, that “there
was now but one uneasy stage between him
and rest, and he would wrestle through it the
best he could.” His professional duties were
performed with his usual zeal and assiduity
during the appointed time, at the close of
which he hastened to London, and cheerfully
laid down his high office, which some chan-
* Life, page 34.
ges in the aspect of the political affairs of
Scotland occasioned to be received without
more difficulty.
Various reports were spread at the time
respecting this transaction, but there is no
reason to suppose that the causes were other
than those which he has himself left on rec-
ord. They have been preserved in MS. in the
university of Edinburgh.*
After he had retired from public life, he
spent some time in a farewell visit to the uni-
versity of Edinburgh, and his letters accord
with the feelings one loves to indulge in vis-
iting, for the last time, scenes in which the
most active years of life have passed. One
is to Mr. Lightmaker, his sister's husband, on
the death of a beloved child ; the other to a
lady laboring under mental distress, but to
whom he was personally unknown.f
“I am glad of your health, and the recov-
ery of your little ones; but indeed it was a
sharp stroke of a pen that told me your little
Johnny was dead, and I felt it truly more,
than, to my remembrance, I did the death of
any child in my lifetime. Sweet thing, and
is he so quickly laid to sleep 2 Happy he
Though we shall no more have the pleasure
of his lisping and laughing, he shall have no
more the pain of crying, nor of being sick,
nor of dying, and hath wholly escaped the
trouble of schooling and all the sufferings of
boys, and the riper and deeper griefs of upper
years, this poor life being, all along, nothing
but a linked chain of many sorrows and of
many deaths. Tell my dear sister she is now .
so much more akin to the other world ; and
this will quickly be passed to us all. John
is but gone an hour or two sooner to bed as
children used to do, and we are undressing to
follow. And the more we put off the love
of the present world and all things superflu-
ous beforehand, we shall have the less to do
when we lie down. It shall refresh me to
hear from you at your leisure. Sir, your af.
fectionate brother—R. J.EIGHToN.”
Finally retired from public life, he removed,
after a short stay in Edinburgh, to Broadhurst,
in Sussex, an estate belonging to Mr. Light-
maker, his sister's husband, and with these
dear relations he remained till within a short
period of his decease. Little is recorded of
these years, and it would be in vain to fill with
conjectural speculations a space of which we
are only told that it was occupied with deeds
of charity and labors of love; that he preached
frequently in the pulpits to which he had ac-
cess, and that here, as in all his other abodes.
the poor and the ignorant were the objects of
his peculiar care. The serene tenor of his
course was, however, once interrupted by an
unexpected call from the king to resume his
high functions in Scotland. The extreme of
persecution having been tried in that country,
only produced its usual and natural effects,
the people became more exasperated against
* Life, page 36.
f Life, pages 41, 44.
AIKMAN'S LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
759
a church to which they were thus attempted
to be dragooned. And the duke of Mon-
mouth, who had witnessed the unfeeling tyr-
anny of the prelates, and the unmitigated
misery of the people, during his residence
there, influenced both by compassion and po-
litical motives, made an effort to introduce
milder measures; and the consequence was
the following letter from Charles: “WIND-
sor, July 16, 1679. My LoftD: I am resolved
to try what clemency can prevail upon such
in Scotland as will not conform to the gov-
ernment of the church there ; for effecting of
which design, I desire that you may go down
to Scotland with your first conveniency, and
take all possible pains for persuading all you
can, of both opinions, to as much mutual cor-
respondence and concord as may be ; and
send me, from time to time, characters both
of men and things. In order to this design, I
shałl send you a precept for two hundred
pounds sterling upon my exchequer, till you
resolve how to serve me in a stated employ-
ment. Your loving friend, CHARLEs R.—For
the bishop of Dumblane.” But the power of
Monmouth declining shortly after, the prop-
osition fell to the ground, deliverance came
to the presbyterians from another quarter,
and the venerable bishop was left quietly to
pursue the method of life that he loved, to
meditate upon eternity, and to prepare for it.
The Scriptures were daily the men of his
council, and the book of Psalms was espe-
cially a portion which he perused with de-
light himself, and recommended to others.
The sabbath was his delight, and no slight
hinderance could detain him from the house
of prayer. Upon one occasion, when he was
indisposed, the day being stormy, his friends
urged him, on account of his health, not to
venture to church : “Were the weather fair,”
was the reply, “I would stay at home, but
since it is otherwise, I must go, lest I be
thought to countenance by my example the
irreligious practice of allowing trivial hinder-
ances to keep me back from public worship.”
But perhaps the highest eulogium that can
be passed on the uniform holiness of his
character, is the effect that it had on his
brother-in-law, who, upon daily beholding it,
exclaimed, “If none shall go to heaven but
so holy a man as this, what will become of
me?” and became so deeply impressed with
a sense of the importance of pressing forward
unto perfection, that he relinquished a prof.
itable business, lest it should too much entan-
gle him, and devoted his remaining years to
the care of his soul.
In 1684, Leighton was induced to come to
London upon a visit of mercy. Lord Perth,
who had participated in all the atrocities of
the times, arrived in the English capital to be
invested with the office of lord high chancel-
lor of Scotland, and whether from some tem-
porary compunctious feeling or some preten-
*ions to it, had earnestly requested Burnet to
procure him an interview: “I thought,” says
the bishop,” “that angelic man might have
awakened in him some of those good princi-
ples which he seemed once to have, and
which were now totally extinguished in
him ;” and at his urgent desire Leighton
came to London. “I was amazed to see
him,” continues Burnet, “at about seventy,
look so fresh and well, that age seemed as it
might stand still with him ; his hair was
still black, and all his motions were lively:
he had the same quickness of thought and
strength of memory, but above all, the same
heat and life of devotion, that I had ever seen
in him. When I took notice to him upon my
first seeing him, how well he looked, he told
me he was near his end for all that, and his
Work and journey both were now almost done.
This at that time made an impression on me.
He was the next day taken with an oppres-
sion, and as it seemed with a cold and with
stitches, which was indeed a pleurisy. The
day after Leighton sunk so that both speech
and sense went away of a sudden, and he
continued panting about twelve hours, and
then died without pangs or convulsions. I
was by him all the while. Thus I lost him
who for so many years had been the chief
guide of my whole life.” He died in the
seventy-fourth year of his age, and was in-
terred at Horsted Keynes, where his brother
Sir Ellis had been buried only a short time
before; an unostentatious inscription marks
the place where his dust rests in hope :: De-
positum, Robert Leightounj, Archiepiscopi
Glasguensis apud Scotos, qui objt xxv die
Junij Anno Dmj 1684, AEtatis suæ 74.
Two remarkable circumstances attended
his death. He used often to say, that if he
were to choose a place to die in, it should be
an inn, it looking so like a pilgrim's going
home, to whom this world was all as an inn.
It was his opinion also, that the officious ten-
derness and care of friends, was an entangle-
ment to a dying man, and that the uncon-
cerned attendance of those who could be pro-
cured in such a place, would give less dis-
turbance: this wish was granted; it was at
the Bell inn, Warwicklane, where he expired.
Another was, that while bishop in Scotland,
he never harassed his people for his stipend,
small as it was, not above £130 per annum
at Dumblane, and only about £400 at Glas-
gow, but generally took what they were
pleased to pay, by which means considerable
arrears were due when he left, and the last
remittance which he had reason to expect,
arrived about six weeks before his death.
His will, which had been written a short
time, before, shows however, that although
not rich, he yet had something to leave.f.
But his liberality was not deferred till he
could no longer hold a grasp of his money.
He allotted every penny beyond what was
barely necessary for his personal expenses, to
pious and benevolent purposes. When prin-
* History of his own times, anno 1684.
t Life, page 53.
760
APPENDIX.
cipal of Edinburgh university, he founded a
bursary, and for that purpose gave £150 to
the city: when at Glasgow he allotted to the
poor of Dumblane, a considerable sum due to
him by a gentleman in that place; he appro-
priated £300 for three bursaries in Glasgow
university, and as much for maintaining four
old men in St. Nicholas hospital. During his
retirement in Sussex, “he distributed,” says
Dr. Burnet, “all he had in charities, choos-
ing rather to give it through other people's
hands than his own: for I was his almoner
in London.” To enable him to be charitable,
he was abstemious: his sister, we are told,
Once asked him to eat of some delicate dish;
he declined, saying, “What is it good for but
to please a wanton taste—one thing forborne
is better than twenty taken.” But, asked his
sister, why were these things bestowed upon
us? To see, he answered, how well we can
forbear them—and then added, “Shall I eat
of this delicacy while a poor man wants his
dinner ?” . The same sister, upon another
occasion, imagining he carried indifference to
worldly things too far, remarked to him, “if
you had a wife and children, you would not
act thus.” His reply was, “I know not how
it would be, but I know how it should be—
Enoch walked with God, and begat sons and
daughters.” Humility was one of the most
distinguishing features of his character, of
which many instances are given in the pre-
ceding pages, and so conspicuously did it
shine, that, in order to dim its lustre, his
enemies were constrained to doubt its reality,
and describe it as affected; but it was too
unostentatious, too general, and too consist-
ent, to be false. Indeed, personal holiness
Was the main object of his life, so much so,
that when he heard of any changing their
profession of religion, he would ask when
they became holier ?
His natural temper was singularly gentle
and amiable, and endeared him to all with
whom he had any intercourse, and overcame
in many of his opponents the prejudices his
dereliction of their party inspired; though
in the latter part of his life, even from the
partial statements of his pupil and friend, he
does not seem to have been greatly enamored
of the change he had made. “He lamented
oft to me the stupidity that he observed
among the commons of England, who seemed
to be much more insensible in matters of re-
ligion than the commons of Scotland were.
He retained still a peculiar inclination to
Scotland, and if he had seen any prospect of
doing good there, he would have gone, and
lived, and died among them.” He looked
on the state the church of England was in,
with very melancholy reflections, and was
very uneasy at an expression then used, that
it was the best constituted church in the
world. He thought it was truly so with
relation to the doctrine, the worship, and the
main part of her government. But as to the
administration, both with relation to the ec-
clesiastical courts, and the pastoral care, he
looked on it as one of the most corrupt he
had ever seen. He thought we looked like
the fair carcase of a body without a spirit,
without that zeal, that strictness of life, and
that laboriousness in the clergy that became
us.” His conversation is represented as hav-
ing been eminently heavenly and spiritual,
“ and he had brought himself,” says the wri-
ter so often referred to, “into so composed a
gravity, that I never saw him laugh, and but
seldom smile, and he kept himself in such a
constant recollection, that I do not remember
that I ever heard him say one idle word.”
Most probably the state of the country and
the church, tended greatly to produce this
general solemnity of manner, for he was
deeply affected with public events. ... How he
could improve littie incidents is well illustra-
ted by an answer he made to a remark of
some of his friends, “you have been to hear
a sermon.” “I met a sermon, a sermon de
facto, for I met a corpse, and rightly and
profitably are the funeral rites observed, when
the living lay it to heart.” Bishop Leighton's
stature was small, and his countenance be-
nignant. That he was slender, we learn
from an exclamation of his, when told that a
corpulent person had died: “How is it that
A. has broken through these goodly
brick walls, while I am kept in by a bit of
flimsy deal 2’’ He would never sit for his
picture, and the engravings we have of him,
were done from one taken by stealth, but
which those who knew him pronounced to
be not a bad likeness, though it did not do
full justice to the mild expression of the
original.
It only remains to notice his theological
works. Their praise is in all the churches.
Episcopalians, presbyterians, and independ-
ents, have concurred to express their high ad-
miration of their unrivalled excellence.*
“Perhaps,” says Mr. Orme, in his Bibli-
otheca Biblica, “there is no expository work
in the English language equal altogether to
the exposition of Peter. It is rich in evan-
gelical sentiment and exalted devotion. The
meaning is seldom missed, and often admira-
bly illustrated. There is learning without
its parade; theology divested of systematic
stiffness; and eloquence in a beautiful flow
of unaffected language and appropriate ima-
gery. To say more would be unbecoming,
and less could not be said with justice.”
Jerment, in his life of Leighton, thus writes:
—“The modesty of Leighton was the more
comely and ornamental, that it was joined to
high intellectual capacity and attainments,
and to the graces of elocution. His acquaint-
ance with literature was various and pro-
found. Of a quick and capacious understand-
ing; of an elevated genius and refined taste;
of a vigorous and elegant fancy ; of a reten-
* Doddridge's judgment is declared in his preface,
and Pearson’s Critique is found in the life, pp. 47, 48.
LETTERS.
761
tive memory—he drank deep at the springs
of knowledge, by close application, and al-
most incessant study. Our author had pe-
rused with care and delight the Roman and
the Greek classics. His Latin would do
honor to the Augustan age; and is not infe-
rior in purity and strength to the style of the
learned and polished Buchanan. The He-
brew was quite familiar to him, and he pos-
sessed a critical knowledge of that concise
and energetic tongue. He understood French
well; and could both speak and write the
language with correctness and ease. He
knew philosophy in the greater part of its
branches; and had read with attention and
profit, history, sacred and profane, civil and
ecclesiastical, ancient and modern. Divinity,
however, was his principal study ; and he
was truly a master in Israel. Of the most of
these rare and useful endowments his wri-
tings afford abundant and incontrovertible
evidence.
“Leighton used all his learning as a hand-
maid to religion, and employed it in the ser-
vice of the sanctuary. He derived theologi-
cal knowledge, not so much from human
systems as from the Sacred Oracles; and that
knowledge received a mellowness from his
own natural and gracious placidity. At times
a Boanerges in sentiment; he was usually,
both in sentiment and style, a son of consola-
tion. The cotemporary bishops of the north,
compared with him, were dwarfs in mind,
and wolves in disposition. There were bright
constellations of divines, both in England and
Scotland. But Leighton shone pre-eminent
above the majority; and was a star of the
first magnitude. Among the first preachers
of his own day, he has never been surpassed,
taking him all in all, since that period. More
sententious than Reynolds, more refined than
Howe, more eloquent than Baxter; less dif-
fuse and argumentative, but more practical
than Charnock; less profound, but clearer
and more savory than Owen ; less ingenious,
but sweeter and more sublime than Hall—he
will not suffer by comparison with any di-
vine, in any age.”
L E T T E R S,”
I.
SIR: I see there is no place, city or coun-
try, valley nor mountain, free from that sen-
tence so early passed upon the earth for man's
cause, “thorns and briers shalt thou bring
forth ;” but he that is well shod walks on the
safelier till he comes where there are none:
but seeing that is not here, we are to use the
greater coolness and deliberation in our re-
moves. If your present company be some
way irksome, a greater solitude may prove
more so: only if God both sensibly fits you
for it, and points clearly out the way to it,
follow him ; otherwise my advice should be
not to hasten too much, and particularly at
no hand so to hasten as to run in debt for it;
for I speak it on experience, he that sets up
anywhere in debt, it will keep him possibly
wrestling at and under many years; but if
you let your incomes do their own business,
pian piano, as they come to your hand, you
will find it much easier to do, and sweeter
when it is done: meanwhile I know you can
digest all a little longer, as hitherto you have
done. . To your other point touching, bap-
tism, freely my thought is, it is a weak no-
* The following letters exhibit Archbishop Leigh-
ton in his private intercourse, as an amiable man, and
a tender, faithful friend. As his biography com-
º not . circumstances to which they particu-
. referred, they are placed at the end of the
WOIUlſſle.
|tion taken up on trust almost generally, to
consider so much, or at all, the qualifications
of the parents. Either it is a benefit to in-
fants, or it is not. If none, why then admin-
istered at all ? But if it be, then why should
the poor innocents be prejudged of it for the
parent’s cause, if he profess but so much of
a Christian as to offer his child to that ordi-
nance 2 For that it is the parent’s faith
gives the child a right to it, is neither clear
from Scripture, nor any sound reason; yet in
that I heartily approve your thoughts that
you would make it, as it most fitly may be,
an active inducement to the parents to know
him and his doctrine, and live conformed to
it, unto whose name they desire their children
to be baptized. But in this, and the other
business, and in all things, I am confident
that good Hand, to which I know you have
given up yourself, will graciously guide you
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . they miscarry that desire
to h . . . . . . . . will but his. Oh let it
still entirely be so with you and your resigned
friend,
R. L.
'Tis well our great journey is going on, and
will quickly set us where we would be.
The business you write of is to you one
signal step of it, marked out by that sov-
ereign hand which, I doubt not, will lead
you in it, and all along through what re-
mains, to whom I know you are constant-
ly
tº ſº e º e
96
762
APPENDIX.
II.
SIR: Some days ago I received some lines
from you, and they were very welcome; for
I know no better news can come from any
corner of the earth, than of a soul attempt-
ing to overcome the world and its own self,
and in any degree prevailing and resolving
still onward ; all the projects and conquests
of the world are not to be named to it. Oh
what a weariness is it to live among men,
and find so few men; and among Christians,
and so few Christians; so much talk and so
little action ; religion turned almost to a tune
and air of words; and, amid all our pretty
discourses, pusillanimous and base, and so
easily dragged into the mire, self and flesh,
and pride and passion domineering, while we
speak of being in Christ, and clothed with
him, and believe it because we speak it so
often and so confidently Well, I know you
are not willing to be thus gulled, and having
some glances of the beauty of holiness, aim
no lower than perfection, which in end we
hope to attain ; and in the meanwhile, the
smallest advances toward it are worth more
than crowns and sceptres. I believe that you
often think on those words of the blessed
champion Paul, 1 Cor. ix. 24, &c. There is
a noble guest within us. Oh let all our
business be to entertain him honorably, and
to live in celestial love within, that will make
all things without be very contemptible in
our eyes. I should rove on did not I stop
myself, it falling out too well for that, to be
hard upon the post hours, ere I thought of
writing. Therefore, good-night is all I add ;
for whatsoever hour it comes to your hand, I
believe you are as sensible as I that it is
still night; but the comfort is, it draws nigh
toward that bright morning that shall make
amends.
Your weary fellow-pilgrim,
R
It may be Mr. Ogle did not think me in ear-
nest when I desired him to spy out a her-
mitage for me; but if one remote enough
were offered, l know not how it might
tempt me. Meanwhile, it is well; but if
you say anything of this, then it will cost
you withal the remembering my service to
him and the rest. If you write again, I
pray you load not the back of your Tetters
with any more than this—To Mr. Robert
Leighton, at Edinburgh : for by that it
will not fail to find me out, and that an-
swers the end, and you see I give you
example.
III.
SIR: Though I desired you to forbear for a
while the pains of sending me the book you
spoke of, I know it was your kindness pressed
you to send it, and I thank you. I tan not say
I have read it through, but divers passages
of it I have ; and though I approve the de-
sign of it and all such writings so far as I
understand, and what I understand not, ad-
venture not to judge of, but rather implicité
think the best of it, yet I must confess, their
lowest rules that are laid as the foundation
of their structure, I find of most use ; and,
could I duly follow them, either I should in-
sensibly be raised to those greater sublimities
they speak of, if the great lover of souls saw
any such thing good for me, or I should hum-
bly and contentedly live without them, which
possibly would do as well till the day come
of fullest and purest intuitive life, which I
live in the hopes as not far off. Meanwhile I
think I have at a venture given up with the
contemptible desires and designs of this
present world, and must have either some-
thing beyond them all, or nothing at all; and
though this 80p60ponos vXn, this base clod of
earth I carry still depresses me, I am glad
that even because it does so, I loathe and
despise it; and would say, major sum, et ad
majora genitus, quam ut mancipium sim istis
corpusculis. I have sent you two little pie-
ces of history, wherein it may be you will
find small relish, but the hazard is small;
and, however, I pray you do not send them
back to me at all, for I have enough of that
kind. The one is of a good pen, and an ac-
quaintance and friend of yours, Paulus No-
loneas, and his Life of Martin of Tours, I
think you will relish, and I believe is not in
your Vitae Patrum. The other, Valerius
Maarimus, I conceived, would cloy you the
less, because it is of so much variety of se-
lected examples, and the stages are so short,
you may begin and leave off where you will,
without wearying. But when all is done,
there is one only blessed story wherein our
souls must dwell and take up their rest; for
among all the rest we shall not read, Venite
ad me, omnes lassi et laborantes, et ego vobis
requiem prestabo ; and never any yet that
tried him, but found him as good as his
word: to whose sweet embraces I recom-
mend you, and desire to meet you there.
Yours,
Oct. 24, 1659.
IV.
SIR : The answer I intended your letter
was a visit, and that not en passant. Though
I spoke and once had thoughts of Newcastle
for some days, my last purpose was no far-
ther than Ingram, unless it had been with
you to Wittingham, to see your honest neigh-
bor Mr. Hume ; which if you think of it
when you meet, it may be you will tell him.
Nor was this a mere thought, for I was on
my way toward you as far as Ginglekirk,
LETTERS.
763
whence I returned back to my lodge, finding
myself not well, by reason, I think, of not
scarce having been on horseback twice these
many months. I am yet in a little distem-
per ; of which, though I apprehend no great
height nor long continuance, yet I am doubt-
ful whether I shall again, this vacation, at-
tempt any farther than Pentland Hills. But
it is no matter; blessed be He in whom souls
may meet and concentre in constant rest, and
in renewed thoughts and desires intervisit,
every day, in despite of large lumps of earth.
And, in much greater matters, how little im-
ports the defeat of our purposes as to any-
thing without us, if it please him to shine on
and advance our great business within O !
what is all the world to it, to that bright pu-
rity we aspire to, and the blessed eternity we
hope for And how great reason have we to
Say, non magna relinquo, magna sequor '.. I
thank you for the notice of your capuchin ;
but I almost knew that he was not here be-
fore I looked. It is true the variety of his
book refreshes us, and by the happy wording,
the same things not only please, but some-
times profit us; but they tell us no new thing,
except it may be some such thing as, I con-
fess, I understand not, of essential unions
and sleeps of the soul; which because I un-
derstand not, would rather disorder and hin-
der than advance me; and therefore I begin
to be unwilling to look over these and such
like, unless I would pick out here and there
such things as I am capable of, and not meet
with those steep ascents which I dare not
venture on. But dear & Kempis is a way to
it, and oh! that I could daily study more,
and attain more sublime, humble devotion
there drawn to the life . . . . . . . . . . . . most
soaring treatises I have ever yet met with,
find any th . . . . . certain and solid use
that is there not plainly and Di . . . . . . . .
proque est paucis opus et . . . . paucis
libris ad bona me . . . . . . could we once
thoroughly despise our own base flesh, and
the vain opinion of the world, and live in
the divine will, as dead to all things beside,
and gladly take the lowest room, he can, if
he please, call for us to go up higher. Oh,
but the misery to have sin, lust, and pride,
and self-will, and self-love, and desire of es:
teem among men, not only living, but, alas,
lively and strong; and yet, however it be,
let us not faint in our minds, for in the name
of the Lord we shall destroy them. And in
the meantime, blessed—ever blessed—be his
name, who hath called us to fight under his
royal standard, and given us to resolve to live
and die there. Amen.
Your fellow-soldier,
-*.
V.
DEAR BROTHER: I wrote to you lately, and
troubled you with the story of my present and
daily growing unhealthiness, which can not
add much, but something it does, to my
wonted longings for the evening, not without
hopes that it shall likewise prove a bright
and sweet morning. Meanwhile it is no
great matter where I pass the few hours
that remain, yet I told you I had some
thoughts of spending them nearer you, but
have not yet resolved; but that and all shall
be disposed of as is best. Mr. Aird, who
gives you this, I believe, you have heard me
speak of, as one acquainted with my free
thoughts, and that hath himself a free, un-
prejudiced soul, and loves truth and devotion
wheresoever he finds it, even in the greatest
crowd of error or superstition about it. He
hath a cell and a provision among the hills
in the border of England, but is threatened
with a removal upon the title of an old in-
cumbent, who is at London or near it. If
you be acquainted with Dr. Cozens, bishop
of Durham, or can recommend him to him by
any that is, if he himself desire it, or in any
other way can assist him, I entreat it of you.
Mrs. Abernethy tells me her son is in the
king’s life-guards: if you meet with him,
and by recommendiug him to my lord Ger-
rard’s favor, who commands it, or in any-
thing else you can do him good, you will
oblige both me and the honest widow. She
makes often mention of you. Cher Frère,
Adieu. R. L.
MARCH 5.
For Sir Ellis Leighton,
at St. James’s.
WI.
DEAR FRIEND: I wish, after your resolu-
tion taken, and I think avy 0sº, you had
barred the door on all suggestions from with-
out and within, that might have changed
or in the least disturbed it. Sure I am
the reason that convinced you is still the
same, that what you may do, you may also
promise if it be required ; and I believe the
design was so like to make you serviceable
to God, and to souls that he hath bought,
that you would never have had just reason
to repent it. The like I dare not say of you
now recoiling ; and if I might again prevail
with you, I entreat you to readvise the thing
between God and your own heart, and that
cleared, as much as you can, from all mist,
both of the fancy of others and your own
melancholy. If you would meet me at Cul-
ross or Lithgow any time the next week, and
send me word what day or hour you choose,
I would endeavor not to fail, or if coming to
Edinburgh to speak with you, though at this
time well I can not, might be likely to do
any help toward dispelling the cloud that
hath overcast your mind, I would not grudge
the pains. All I can do at this distance, is to
look up to Heaven, who alone powerfully
can do it, and in his blessed hand I leave it,
764
APPENDIX.
and you, and myself, and all that concerns us,
and all the world; and whatsoever you do,
never doubt the unalterable affection of
Your friend,
*
VII.
SIR: What the opportunity is that may
engage you where you are, seeing you ex-
press it not, I can not particularly know: but
whatsoever it is, I shall be glad if it suit your
mind, and if I could do you any real further-
ance in any such thing, I think I need not tell
you how ready the occasion would find me.
Here I see nothing at present worth the
thinking on for you, unless you have a mind
to try a course of tilting for a regency in phi-
losophy, as they call it, which is likely to be
vacant here very shortly, Mr. Wiseman being
upon the point of leaving it and going to
sleep. If you find a stomach to it, all I can
promise is, endeavor to see fair play; and if
you make One you would be sure to win, if it
depended on the wishes of
SIR,
Your Friend and Servant.
VIII.
SIR : 1 should please myself very much in
doing anything toward your repose ; but
there is nothing such as I wish within my
reach, nor within my view. The humanity
place will either not be vacant, or if it be, I
think we shall break it for some reason. Of
the other I wrote to you, you can only judge
whether it suits your genius and inclination;
neither, if it did, have I power to promise
anything but heavy endeavors if I see it fea-
sible, having no assurance of prevailing. But
one thing I am sure of, and so are you, and it
is enough, that to them that fear the Lord
and trust in him, no good thing shall be
wanting. The choosing of some dubious
steps of our way may now and then be a
little troublesome, but the comfort is, the
journey will be quickly done, and then we
hope to be where there are no desires nor de-
liberations of change of quarters. I am,
Yours.
I suppose you have heard of Mr. Andrew
Gray's death. He has got the start of us,
but not for long. ... I am likely to preach
tomorrow, God willing, in our own hall,
where for the present meets one of the
town congregations.
IX.
SIR: I think you know the reason of my
forbearing to write; for you can not but
know that letters sent by the post are broken
open very frequently, if not constantly of
late; and other way I know none. I often
entreated that favor of my John to inquire at
your sister's how you were, if she did hear,
and if she knew any safe convey of letters to
you; but he did as he uses to do in divers of
the few letter services I have for him, and I
am beholden to his neglects. Meanwhile,
my not forgetting you, you may be assured
of, while I shall continue to remember my-
selſ. When I think how little or nothing it
is my letters speak other than some short
word, dropped as it comes, reflecting to you
some of your own thoughts, I am pained
with your reckoning them anything at all.
Your imparting the particulars relating to
yourself, though in extrinsic things, I do very
heartily thank you for ; for such communica-
tions are a redoubling the pleasure in them :
and seeing our great Father's love descends
to the ordering of the low concernments of
our life, we were very unwise and ungrate-
ful not to observe them, who hath made flies
with so much art, and is truly magnus in
minimis. Courage, it shall be well: we fol-
low a conquering general; yea, who hath
conquered already ; et qui semel vicit pro no-
bis, semper vicet in nobis. For myself at
present, I am, as we use to say, that is, this
little contemptible lodge of mine is, not very
well ; but that will pass some way or other,
as it is best ; and even while the indisposi-
tion lasts, oh how much doth it heighten
the sweet relish of peace within, of which I
can not speak highly ; for to you I speak just
as it is. But methinks I find a growing con-
tempt of all this world, and consequently
some further degrees of that quiet which is
only subject to disturbance by our inordinate
fancies and desires, and receding from the
blessed centre of our rest: for hurries of the
world you know the way, Isa. xxvi. 20; and
in these retiring rooms we meet and be safe
and quiet. That you may speak of the shock
seeming to threaten your order, I an not
afraid of at all, neither for you nor myself,
nor the generality of the rest : but you may
be assured, that, in that case, the lot of those
in my posture will be the same with yours.
Sed Jehovah regnat, circuitor Genlis, et cum
reliquis etiam insulae. Farewell, dear brother.
Yours.
*
X.
DEAR FRIEND: Whether you know the par-
ticular purport of the enclosed you sent to
me, I know not ; but it is to quit ten pounds
sterling supposed due to me from the party
that pleads inability; and doubtless your rec-
ommendation, together with the charity of
the thing, if it shall appear to be so, would
easily give law to me for a greater sum than
that. But the truth is, there is a main mis-
LETTERS.
765
take in the business, for it is not payable to
me, and therefore no way in my power, for
my lord Bargeny hath a lease of all my little
dues in these parts for nineteen years, upon
very easy terms as they inform me; yet
whether he will consider that so as to make
such an abatement of what is now his due
and not mine, I can not tell ; neither have I
any power to carve upon what is his without
paying it back, or some way compensing it
to him myself; and yet even that I shall not
decline, if, after you and I both know the
more particular state of the business and the
person, you shall judge it reasonable. This
is all I can say to that at present; and I will
not enter upon any other discourse by this;
for the truth is, there is little to be said and
much to be done. You and I are, I trust,
upon a design that will reflect a very low es-
timate upon all below it, and it shall cer-
tainly succeed if we be careful to stick to our
Leader, and follow him. Pray for
Your poor friend and servant,
March, 1660.
To the Rev. Mr. AIRD.
XI.
DEAR FRIEND: I am very sorry for the in-
disposition you are under, but I assure you I do
not value myself, nor anything I say or do ei-
ther upon this or any other occasion, worth
#. pains of writing, far less on a journey
ither; yet I should gladly enjoy your mis-
take in thinking otherwise, if I was in a pos-
ture capable of the pleasure others have of
your abode under my roof for some longer
time. The persons you mention in order to
that affair, &c., I have not seen nor heard
anything from any of them since my last, nor
expect that I shall till the beginning of June,
at Edinburgh, where I intend, God willing,
to be, and desire, if it may be, to see you
there. I have thoughts of going thither
somewhat before that time, and therefore, if
I did not signify such to you, I fear you
might miss me if you came hither.
As for the business, it is very safe, with all
our other interests of time and eternity, in our
blessed Father's hand, of all fathers the wisest
and the best. He, I am sure, can mould ei-
ther your heart or theirs you have to do with-
al, as he thinks fit, and it shall be as it is best
to be ; therefore if we were together, I should
not very eagerly dispute the matter with you,
far less will I by scribbling. Let your heart
keep near to him, and be daily purging out
all that may interpose and obstruct our closest
union, and we have nothing else to care for.
This moment is posting away, and that bles-
sed day is hastening forward that shall com-
plete that union.
Pray for your lame fellow-traveller,
º º
I should chide you, if I could do it sharply
enough, for entertaining the least thought
of any such jealousy, as I think very in-
congruous with the strength and mutual
confidence of solid friendship.
Received at Carmarthen, May 14, 1668.
XII.
SIR : Waving all other discourse till meet-
ing, though you are possibly enamored with
your vacancy, yet if you find any return of
appetite to employment in the ministry, I
am once again to offer you an invitation, for
there is a place or two now vacant at my dis-
posal. It is true it is by the removal of the
former incumbents against their will, but you
are not guilty of that by succeeding them,
nor I by giving a call to any that will ; for
you may be sure they are not within the
bounds I have charge of, but in other dio-
ceses. There is one place indeed in my pre-
cincts now vacant, and yet undisposed of, by
the voluntary remove of a young man that
was in it to a better benefice, and this is
likewise in my hand; but it is so wretchedly
mean a provision, that I am ashamed to
name it—little, I think, above five hundred
marks a year. If the many instances of that
kind you have read have made you in love
with voluntary poverty, there you may have
it; but wheresoever you are or shall be for
the rest of your time, I hope you are advan-
cing in that blessed poverty of spirit that is
the only true height and greatness of spirit
in all the world entitling to a crown, “for
theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Oh! what
are the scraps that the great ones of this
world are scrambling for compared with that
pretension I pray you, as you find an op-
portunity, though possibly little or no incli-
nation to it, yet bestow one line or two upon
Your poor friend and *
Edinburgh, July 5, 1662.
To Mr. JAMES AIRD.
am-msº
XIII.
SIR : I long to hear how you dispose of
yourself, if it be determined. If still in sus-
pense, I still wish you the favorable impres-
sion of that hand to which I know you have
delivered up yourself; if you be resolved
upon a removal, and incline to the like charge
here upon a fair call, I desire to know it, by
the first opportunity, for I hear there is some-
what of that kind in the west likely to be at
my disposal: I would met have this unsettle
your pretension to stay where you are, if you
find anything within you, for thorns grow
everywhere, and from all things below: and
766
APPENDIX.
to a soul transplanted out of itself into the
root of Jesse, peace grows everywhere too,
from Him who is called our peace, and whom
we still find the more to be so, the more en-
tirely we live to him, being dead to this
world, and self, and all things besides him.
Oh when shall it be 2 Well, let all the
world go as it will, let this be our only pur-
suit and ambition, and to all other things fiat
voluntas tua Domine—that both is painful in
Some instance is the dubiousness.
XIV.
DEAR FRIEND: Being at present not well,
I shall say no more but that I take these
communications as a singular act of the
truest kindness and friendship, and heartily
thank you for them, and am glad to find that
there are some souls in this world truly sick
of it all ; that being, in my mind, a very
happy symptom and prognostic of a prevail-
ing health—such a degree of it, at least, as
may be had in the diseased, defiled cottages
wherein we dwell, and may be to us a cer-
tain pledge of real beginning of that full health
we look for at our removal, and therefore
have so much reason to long and wish ear-
nestly and sigh and groan for that day, and
yet have no less reason to wait patiently for
it. Pray for
Your poor friend,
R.
March 21, 1669.
XV.
DEAR FRIEND: I was refreshed by the ac-
count of your feast in your former, of which
I trust I was participant as to the blessing of
it, for though absent, I was heartily with you
in desire. The accident your letter acquaints
me with, I think concerns you little or noth-
ing; for if there was any offence in the print-
ing it, it rests upon him that procured it, and
the printer; but for instructing your own flock
in what way you judge most accommodated
to them, who can blame you ? However,
when I meet with the archbishop, I shall,
God willing, represent the business to him
as it is, if I find it needful ; but if you think
it hath come to his knowledge, and that with
with some misreport and disguise, I believe
it might not be amiss for you to give him the
true and ingenuous account yourself by a let-
ter, for, it may be, Some weeks may pass be-
fore I see him.
But oh how quickly will all these things
be gone, and even at present a look beyond
them makes them disappear ! Let us man-
age our ways as prudently and profitably to
our main end as we can, and let the world
descant as they will. Blessed are the upright
in heart, for their great Judge and Master
sees into the heart, and can not mistake
them. Pray for
Your poor friend,
XVI.
DEAR FRIEND: I do very much commend
the activeness of your charity in the journey
you have taken ; for the success, though I
had much desire and some little hopes of
better, yet I suspected how it might prove,
unless this one consideration, the extreme
necessity of this church at this time, did pre-
vail with our friend to do violence to him-
self. I hope you both pardon me for the very
reason that I moved it, and that I am but to
be angry or impatient at it, I could not par-
don myself. I look to Him who makes every-
thing beautiful in its season, and remember
that saying of his, “Your time is always
ready, but my time is not yet.” As we are
to forbear forbidden fruits at all times, so not
to pull the best fruit in his garden till he al-
lows us, and some way signifies he thinks
them duly ripe for use.
I do heartily thank you for the kindness of
communicating the enclosed letters; for next
to what is within me, the painful reflecting
I have on this world is, that there is so small
a part of mankind in whose breasts such
thoughts are stirring, and am somewhat re-
lieved when I meet with anything of that
kind, and long to meet with more, or be
gone where no such wishes are needful... O !
this dark night is very long ; but blessed hope
of that bright morning without cloud that is
ºtening forward. Well, no more, but pray
Ol'
Your poor friend and servant,
I beseech you pain me not again with so ex-
cessively canonical a superscription of your
letters, for there is no need of it, though
they were to pass through twenty hands.
Since I wrote this, I received another of
yours for Mr. Blair. The truth is, for the
next year I am already engaged to one that
both needs and deserves a little help, and
am bespoke for another to succeed the year
after, but have not absolutely promised,
and I therefore am at a little more liberty
to consider it against that time, if it please
God to continue me here so long ; for the
youth you name you may be assured, if it
can fall on that side, his relation to our
brother, and your recommendation, will
have very much weight to make it so, and
that is all I can say of it at present.
For my Rev. brother Mr. AIRD, :
Minister at Torriburn.
LETTERS.
767
XVII.
SIR : I wish I could punctually resolve you
concerning that freedom of commencing to
that excellent work which you desire; but
the truth is, though I believe they are not
there so straightlaced by far as here, yet you
having never exercised at all in public, I am
not sure they would not all inquire concerning
that, but it is likely nothing would be re-
quired which, if you be not superstitious on
the other hand, would trouble you. If you
thought fit in the meantime to spend some
weeks in that place you speak of, and to use
the liberty of it in exercising, it might possi-
bly pass for what you would avoid in the
other. And if a fair invitation shall come,
he to whom you have resigned yourself will
direct you.
Sir,
Your very affectionate friend.
To my own motions or stay, as I am in a
most quiet indifferency myself, you, I am
sure, may much more easily be so. We
are at sea, and can not expect still to sail
within speech, no nor within sight, but we
hope to arrive at the same “fair havens.”
*- :
XVIII.
SIR : There is one here come from Ireland
to inquire after able young men for the min-
istry, whom they invite thither, sending them
transport-money, and assuring them of a lib-
eral and certain provision there. He they
sent hath been with me, and was desirous to
know if I could recommend any. It came
into my thoughts to give you notice, that if
you find any inclination that way, I may
know. I will not advise you, much less press
you in it, but leave you wholly to the free-
dom of your own thoughts and choice, and to
the best hand to determine them. I believe
they expect of those that go, an engaging to
a pastoral charge ; but whether for some time
they may not give a little liberty to some or
to one at least in a freer posture to preach, or
whether their pastoral engagement be so in-
dissolubly fast as here, I know not. You
will think on that, and if you judge it worth
so much, let me hear from you how you rel-
ish it. However, I wish you as to myself
much happy success and advancement in
your great design.
Your friend to serve you.
XIX.
SIR ; The Lords of the Council having ap-
pointed some ministers from other parts, to
preach in such churches within the diocese
of Glasgow as do most need their help, I
desire the Reverend Mr. James Aird, minister
of Torry, to bestow his pains in that circuit
that lies eastward from Hamilton or therea-
bouts, and particularly in the kirk of Car-
luke, not doubting that the minister thereof,
and others in the like case, will very gladly
receive and earnestly entreat what help he
can do toward the bringing of their people to
frequent the public ordinances, and the remo-
ving of their prejudices and calming of their
passions, that they may with one heart wor-
ship that one Lord whose name we all pro-
fess to love and honor.
R. LEIGHToN.
Glasgow, Sept. 17, 1670.
This is to recommend to the kind recep-
tion and assistance of the gentlemen and
ministers, to whose parishes he shall resort,
for preaching of the gospel, within the dio-
cese of Glasgow, our Reverend brother, Mr.
Lawrence Charteris, Minister at Bar, being
nominated and appointed by the Lords of
Council, with some others from other parts
for that effect.
Glasgow, Sept. 20, 1670.
To Mr. Charteris are recommended, within
the presbytery of Paisley, these kirks,
Neelson, Kilbarchan—vacant.
Likewise, if his health permit,
Killelen, and Kilmacome—though not va-
Cant.
Oct. 19, 1670.
R. LEIGHTON.
I N D E X
OF THE
T E X T S O F S C R. I P T U R E.
CH. WEB PAGE
GENESIS
i. 1. * * * * * e o a s a e e e a e e w 583
i. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151
i. 3. . . . . © e e e o e e º e a e e e a . 382
i. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124
i. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . 152, 171, 632
i 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 698
i. 26. . . . . & e e º 'º e s e e e º 'º t e 401
i., ii., iii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 670
ii. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 684
iii. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . © tº a s tº e . 422
iii. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99
iii. 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 203
vi. . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * e e 308, 481
vi. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 268, 269
vi. 5. . . . . * * * * * * * * * e e 194, 599
viii. 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199
xi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ......... 542
xi. 5, 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 267
xii. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68
xiii. 8. . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * e e 117
xv. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 337
xvii. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 406
xviii. 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 267
xviii. 27. . . . . . . . . © º e º 'º e º 595
xx. 11 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 361
xxi. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 319
xxii. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83
XXV. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
xxvii. 27. . . . . . * * * * * * . 140, 218
xxviii. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 412
xxix. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 333
xxx. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 120
xxxi. 7. . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e s tº 223
xxxii. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 611
xxxix. 9... . . . . ... 178, 224, 702
xlix. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116
xlix. 7... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 227
xlix. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98
ExoDUS
iii. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 267
iv. 22. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 414
XV. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 493
xv. 11. . . . . . . . . . . © tº e º 'º e . 592
xvi. 23. . . . . . . . © tº ... 629
xix. 5. . . . . ...... . . . . . 150, 626
xix. 5, 6 * * * > e - e º e e s e e º 'º e 148
xx. 1, 2- . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 619
xxiii. 1.......... e C e º 'º e º 639
xxiii. 12............ . . . . 629
xxviii. 36, 38...... ... . . . 192
xxx. 25. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 477
CH. VER. PAGE.
xxxi. 13, 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . 629
xxxiii. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 567
xxxiv. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . 268, 548
xxxiv. 28. . . . . * * * * * * * * * *
LEVITICUs.
X. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 320
xvi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..... 192
xix. 2. . . . . © e e s e e s e s e e e e 603
xix. 3, 37. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 622
xix. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 216, 633
xix. 30. . . . . . . . . © tº e s a e º e e 629
XX. 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 603
xxi. 8. . . . . * c e s - e. e. e. e. e. e. e. tº 603
xxi. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 294.
XXV. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 629
xxvi. 4-12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 565
xxvi. 41. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 448
NUMBERS
xi. 44. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 106
xiii. 30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 103
xxiv. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 460
DEUTERONOMY
iv. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 626
v. 22. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 620
v. 28. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 576
vi. 5. tº º º e e º e º e º 561
vii. 6... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 183
vii. 7, 8, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158
x. 14, 15 & © e e º e e º e e e a 148
xi. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231
xxvii. 1, 12, 24. . . . . . . . . . 565
xxix. 29. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 620
xxxii. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 120, 329
xxxii. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 349
XXXii. 8. . . . . © a e s e e s tº º º ... 642
xxxii. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 684
xxxii. 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157
xxxiii. 29. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 554
JUDGEs
ix. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 171, 486
x 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 393
xviii. 24. . . . . . . tº gº e e º 'º e º º 534
XX. 2. . . . . . . e e o e s tº a e e s e e 140
I. SAMUEL.
i. 11. . . . . . . e e o e g º e º sº e º e 338
ii. 4, 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 536
ii. 30............ 178, 334, 632
iv. 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 452
vii. 16.................. 626
xiv. 38. . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . 140
XXX . . . . . . . . . • * * * @ e e º e g e 372
xxx. 6. . . . . . tº e e s tº e º º t e s tº 86
II. SAMUEL.
vi. 22. . . . . . . e e e º & © tº e º & ... 107
x. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . © e º 'º e e e 610
xix. 35. . . . . & e e º e º 'º º . . . . . 132
xxiii. 5. . . . . * @ e e º e º e s e e a 535
I. KINGS.
iv. 29 * * * * * * * * * * * * * . 507
iv. 33. . . . . . . . . . . . º º . 199
viii. 27. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 601
xii. 31. . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . . 577
xv. 13. . . . . tº e º e º 'º © e º e o e e 247
xviii. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 226
xix. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 362
xix. 20..... • e º e º e e s e e e . 154
xxii. . . . . . . tº º e º ºs e . . . . . . . 398
xxii. 19 tº e - e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. 233
II. KINGs
vi. 16. . . . . . © e º e º ºs e e o e e . 351
vi. 23. . . . . . • * *, * * * * * * * . 572.
vi. 33. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . 374
x. 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 401
xvii. . . . . tº e a e º e • . . . . . . . . 452.
xix. 33 © & e º e º 'º e º e e . . 493.
I. CHRONICLES
xxii. 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 343.
xxix. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . 101, 427
xxix. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 406.
II. CHRONICLEs. .
xvi. 9 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231
xvii. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 521
xxix. 30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 452.
EzRA.
iv. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 169,
ix. . . . . © e º e º e º e º 'o . . . . . . . 725.
NEHEMIAH.
ix. 27...... . . . . . . . . . . . . 554
JoB.
i. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 682.
W. 6, 7. s e e º e º e e º 0 e º 'º e s a 447
v. 7... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 465.
vi. 19. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 573
vii. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 448.
97
CH. V£R. PAgr. 1 CH. VER. PAGE. 1 Cfr. VeR. PAGE.
viii. 7........... , . . . . . . 349 I iii. 6. . . . . ç. e • w έ φ ω υ ή σ .... 466 I xxiv. 7................. 490
viii. 8..... e e e ę ę e e s • • ... 524 I iv. . . . • • • • • • • • • · · · · · ..... 357 l xxiv. 10. ............... 618
viii. 9.................. 524 l iv. 1................... 357 l xxv............... ...... 495
' viii. 13............. • • • • 249 liv. 2. ...... ...... ... . 359 l xxv. 1. ...... � • • _• • s e e • • • 602
viii. 14, 15..... • • • • • • • • • 534 l iv. 3.............. 69, 360, 607 | xxv. 7............... 160, 635
ix. 13............... • • • 545 I iv. 4................. 361, 568 | xxv. 11. ... . . . . . ...... 96, 592
ix. 30.................. 448 | iv. 5......... � o e e e e s e s e 362 I xxv. 14. ........ e • e • • ® 98, 236
ix. 30, 31........ ..... 66, 400 liv. 6. ...... • • • ...... 363, 566 | xxv. 22. ................ 600
x. 11, 12. ... . • • • • • • • • • • 536 | iv. 6, 7. . . . . . . . . • • • • • • • • 72 l xxvi. 4............. . . . . 222
x. 17. . . . . ¢ eu es • e • * «» • • • e e • 552 | iv. 7 .......... ę ó * £• • ® ® 77, 364 | xxvi. 8............. . 452, 462
xi. 8, 9....... • • • • • •• • • • • 523 ] v. 1....... e e • e • • ® ...... 232 I xxvi. 9..... � s © • ® ®* * * * ... 698
xi. 12..... • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 523 l v. 3............. • • • • • • • 607 I xxvi. 11. ........... • • • • 592
xii. 8, 9, 12. .... • e • s * • ę ę • 523 1 v. 4........... � ę ę ę © * ® * © 326 | xxvii. 1..... 151, 245, 372, 463
xiii. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . • • • • • 244 | v. 8. . . . . e s • • o • � s © © © © © ©* . 167 l xxvii. 4..... e s s e e • e • • 398, 570
xiii. 15........ ... . . . 372, 466 | vi. 1......... ® e ' • e • s s • e • 567 | xxvii. 8, 9..... s • • • • • • • • 446
xiii. 25........ • • • • • • • • • 395 ] vi. 6......... ç e • • e e e ©* e * * 474 l xxvii. 11....... ...... 319, 341
xiv. 1, 2. ....... • • • • • • • • 122 lvi. 7.............. o • • «• s • 465 l xxvii. 13.......... • • • * • • 86
xv. 25 ... • • • • • • • • . . . . . . 247 | viii..... * • s * ® e e © • • • * • 113, 381 | xxix. 4......... • e e © • • • • 154
xvi. 20. • • • ............. 595 | viii. 3.................. 353 l xxix. 10............ ... . 499
xvii. 14. . . . . • e • e • e • • • • • • 195 | viii. 5..... • • • s • • *• • • • • .. 550 l xxx. 1...... ■ s e s e e e e s * • * 356
xviii. 5. • • •............. 153 | ix. 6. ... ..... • • • • • • • • • • 178 | xxx. 5............ e • «• e • e 340
xviii. 7. • • • ............. 492 | ix. 7, 8............. • • • . 549 | xxx. 7..... , ..... 516, 566, 571
xix. 25. ................ 466 1 ix. 13......... e e e • e • • • • 264 | xxx. 12......... ..... 168, 223
XX • • • • • • • • • • • � e * • e • ©• e • e e 269 | x. 5..... � s e e e ę s • • • • • • • • 88 I xxxi. 13................ 451
xx. 11. · · · · · · · · · · · · • .... 241 l x. 9...... • • • • • 345 I xxxi. 15. ... . . . . . . ... 451, 549
xx. 29....... e qu � e • • 613 l x. 17.............. • • • • • 232 | xxxi. 22. ....... ........ 143
xxii. 21......... • • ... 226, 486 | xi. 2............ e s e s ® ® .• 230 l xxxi. 23. .......... . . . . . 177
xxii. 25................ • 553 | xi. 4................ 229, 601 | xxxii..... « * • « • • • • «• • • e «e 357, 365
xxvi. 7. .... e s e s- « » • � e • • • • 114 | xi. 5-7................ . 230 I xxxii. 1...... 92, 365, 510, 613
xxvii. 8............ • . . . • 534 | xii. 2...... • e e e * * • ■ ■ ® e ... 221 | xxxii. 1, 5 e • * • • • • • • • 613
xxviii. 7........ • • • •.... 119 | xii. 5...... «• s • e • • • • • • e e e 299 | xxxii. 2................ 366
xxviii. 28. ......... • • • • • 176 | xiii................. .... 269 I xxxii. 3—5. ..... ........ 368
xxx. 24. . . . . os s • e • • • • • • • • 241 , xiv. 2. .... • • • s • • • s • • • • • 194 | xxxii. 3—5. ....... s s e © © e 568
xxx. 26. . . . . . . . • • • • • • • • • 460 l xiv. 3.................. 157 | xxxii. 5 «• * • e • • s ■ • • • • • 551
xxxi. 1. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 195 | xiv. 4.............. .... 138 | xxxii. 6-11. ... ......... . 369
XXXi. 23. .... e • s e e se © © ® • • 361 | xiv. 5. ...... e t e e � e e • e 224 | xxxii. 9. . . . . . ... e s s e e • ® ® 196
XXxi. 24. . . . . . . • ... • • • • • 553 I xiv. 15. ............... • 119 | xxxiii. 5. ........... . . . . 132
xxxi. 27. ... . . . • • • • • .... 626 I xv........ • • • • • • • ύ ς ω ω• • ® 627 | xxxiii. 6............. 382, 672
xxxi. 29. ....... . . . . . . . . 633 | xv. 2. . . . . e • • e • e • • ® • v e €» o 222 I xxxiii. 11. • • • • • . . . . . . . . . 342
xxxiii. 17.... . . . . • • • • • • • 536 | xv. 3........ · · · · · · · · · 174 l xxxiii. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 496
xxxiii. 28. ... . . . . . • • • • • • 687 | xvi. 2............... 297, 630 | xxxiii. 19....... . . . . . . . . 393
xxxiv. 2. . . . . . . e e e s * s � � • 130 l xvi. 4. . . . . . . . . . . • ...... 395 I xxxiv..... ę s e e • e e • • • e • • . 573
xxxiv. 13—15. . . . . . . . .... 570 l xvi. 5. • • • • •......... 230, 349 | xxxiv. 1..... e • e • • • ..... 76
xxxiv. 19. • • • • • • • • • •• • • • • 109 | xvi. 5, 6. . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . 689 | xxxiv. 1, 2. •. • • • ........ 629
xxxiv. 22. .... se e • e • • e • • * 229 | xvi. 8....... 183, 291, 486, 608 | xxxiv. 2.......... .... 93, 347
xxxiv. 29. . . . . . . . . • • • 226, 516 | xvi. 11. ......... . . . . ... 482 I xxxiv. 5........... .. 230, 391
xxxiv. 31. .... e s • e • • e • • • 395 | xvii............ . . . . . . . . 113 | xxxiv. 8..... 132, 360, 476, 573
xxxiv. 31, 32. . • • • • • • • • • . 446 | xvii. 1......... g • e se e e se • • 221 | xxxiv. 8, 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 177
xxxv. 9, 10. ............ 53 | xviii. 1....... 81, 173, 300, 357 | xxxiv. 13, 14......... 219, 220
xxxvi. 19........... ... 241, 536 | xviii. 2............ · · · · · 360 l xxxiv. 15.............. . 596
xxxviii......... e • • • • • e • . 543 I xviii. 11. . . . . . . . ... • , ... 699 | xxxiv. 15, 16............ 227
xxxviii. 6, 7............. 673 | xviii. 29. .... � s • e • • ..... 286 | xxxiv. 18.......... .. 229, 327
xxxviii. 7............... 682 lxviii. 30. ........... • • • . 349 l xxxiv. 19....... ........ 694
xxxviii. 10, 11.......... • 495 | xviii. 32. • • • • • . . . . . . . . . . 165 | xxxiv. 19, 20. ....... . . . . 241
xxxviii. 28. ............. 119 I xix................. . 173, 362 | xxxiv. 19, 21. .......... . 184
xl. 9, 12................ 493 | xix. 1. .......... 156, 385, 696 | xxxv. 15............... . 318
xix. 4. ... ... • • • • • • • • 202, 500 l xxxv. 16................ 167
PSALMs. xix. 5. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 564 I xxxv. 28. .............. . 223
i. • • • • • • • • • • • • • ••••• • • • • • 130 l xix. 9. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 361 l xxxvi. 5............. 342, 553
i. 2. • • • • • • • • • • • •• • • • • 196, 619 | xxi. 3 ...... «… … ® « • • e e c • e «• 231 | xxxvi. 9............ . 153, 689
i. 4. • • • • • • e * ® ® * • • • e • e .. 498 I xxii. ... ... e s e e e • • « • e «• • • • 98 | xxxvii. 3. . . . . . . . . • • • • • • • 579
i. 6. ... • • • «• • • * • ■ • ® • • ® ® 69, 229 | xxii. 2...... ....... . . . . . 515 l xxxvii. 4.. • • • ò s s s s © © • e . 547
ii. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • .... 170, 264 | xxii. 2-4............... 235 I xxxvii. 5...... • • • • • • • • • • 553
ii. 1.................... 491 | xxii. 4. ... .......... 358, 500 l xxxvii. 30, 31. ... • • • • • 196, 221
ii. 4 ........ • • • • • • • • • • • 602 | xxii. 6..... ............ 337 | xxxviii. 3. • • • • • • • ....... 544
ii. 6............... • • • • • 142 | xxiii................ 245, 385 | xxxviii. 4. • • • . • • • • • • • • • • 190
ii. 7........... ....... 76, 360 l xxiii. 2................. 201 | xxxviii. 9. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 596
ii. 10. ... .... • • • • • • • • • • • 120 l xxiii. 3................ .. 200 | xxxviii. 12—15. . . . . ... 195, 223
ii. 11........ 110, 178, 532, 601 | xxiii. 4. ..... ........ 467, 500 | xxxviii. 24.. • • • • • . . ..... 368
ii. 12. • • • • • • • • • • • . ...... 260 | xxiv. 1, 3, 7...... ....... 605 I xxxix. • • • • • • • • • • • ....... 385
iii. 1................... 535 l xxiv. 1, 6............... 148 | xxxix. 1. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 385
INDEX.
774.
Ch. VER PAGE.
XXXIX. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 388
xxxix. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122
xxxix. 5. . . . . © º ºs e º a tº e e 190, 389
xxxix. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . 391, 649
xxxix. 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 392
xxxix. 8–11. . . . . . . . . . . . . 394
xxxix. 9... . . . . . . . 83, 191, 544
xxxix. 11 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122
xxxix. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 395
xxxix. 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 396
xl. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 235, 550
xl. 1-4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 572, 573
xl. 2, 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 160
xl. 3. . . . . . . . . . . e tº e s s e º e 496
×l. 6, 7 - . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263
xl. 7... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 189,259
xl. 8. . . . . e e s e º e s = e º e 564, 609
xl. 8, 9... . . . . . . . . . . . . 221, 222
xl. 12. . . . . . . 190, 191, 538, 599
xl. 17. . . . . . . . e e a e s tº e º e • • 231
xli. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197
xlii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 372
xiii. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • 570
xlii. 2, 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 134
xlii. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 246,393
xiii. 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83
xiii. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 465
xlii. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 318
xlv. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105, 147
xlv. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148
xlv. 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 477
xlv. 8. . . . . . . . . . . © e. e. e. e & © 477
xlv. 10, 11. . . . . © s s & e e s a s 111
xlv. 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135, 206
xlv. 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 684
xlvi. . . . . . .... 73, 362, 466,499
xlvi. 1. . . . . & e º e º 'º & e º e º e s 351
xlvi. 2. . . . . © & e º e - . . . . . 84, 143
xlvi. 2, 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 245
xlvii. 7, 9..... e tº e s e is e º e • 353
xlix. 5, 15...... • & © tº e º 'º º 496
xix. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 268
xlix. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 389
xix. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 532
1. . . . . . . . . . . . tº º 138, 362
1. 14, 23. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138
l. 15. . . . . . . tº e º 'º - e. e. e. e º 'º º 596
l. 19. . . . . º e º e s e tº e º 'º & e º E 221
l. 20. . . . . . . e e e º G & a e º e s e 220
1. 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 552
l, 22. . . . . . . . . . . © e e s e º 'º e 229
1. 23. . . . . . . . . . . . 138, 518, 526
li. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 483, 527
li. 4. . . . . . . . . © e º e º e º e 544, 552
li. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 624
li. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 518, 613
li. 10, 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 635
li. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 139, 213
li. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 600
lii. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 220
lii. 3. . . . . . . . e Q is e e º e º e º e 345
lii. 6..... e e s a e e o e s e º 'º . . 532
lv. 17. . . . . . . . . tº e º 'º º º . . . 234
lv. 22. . . . . . . . . . . ..... 342, 596
lvi. 6. . . . . . . . . . . © tº e º e º 'º a 251
lvii. 7... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 355
lvii. 8............... 246, 627
lviii. 1...... . . . . . . . . . . . . 485
lxi. 2..... * @ e º e º e e º ... 230, 392
lxii. 5, 6 tº º e º e º e º 'º e a e 5
lxii. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232, 233
CH. VER PAGE.
lxii. 9. . . . . . . . . . . 122, 390, 463
lxiii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 468
lxiii. 3. . . . . . . . . . 176, 231, 468
lxiii. 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 207
lxv. 1. . . . . . . © e º 'º e º e º 'º e e 399
lxv. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 595
lxv. 7 e & s • e º e º 'º e º e º e 226
lxvi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69
lxvi. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228
lxviii. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 347
lxviii. 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 455
lxix. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 168
lxxi. 9. . . . . . & e s e s e º e º e º 'º 132
lxxi. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 264
lxxii. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . 171, 454
lxxii. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87
lxxiii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 151
lxxiii. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 703
lxxiii. 26. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86,465
lxxiii. 27. . . . . . . . . . . . . 261, 681
lxxiii. 28. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 298
lxxv. 6, 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 170
lxxvi. 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190, 362
lxxvi. 10. . . . . & e º s e º e º e º º 490
lxxvii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 466
lxxvii. 10. . . . . . . . 367, 400, 466
lxxviii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121, 568
lxxviii. 9. . . . . tº tº ſº e º e . . . . 83
lxxviii. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 611
lxxviii. 19. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 583
lxxviii. 38, 39. . . . . . . . . . . 545
lxxviii. 57. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 183
lxxx. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 567
lxxx. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97
lxxxiv. 5. . . . . & e e s e e g º e s e 609
lxxxiv. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 293
lxxxiv. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 236
lxxxiv. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 463
lxxxiv. 12. . . . . o e e º t e º e e g 71
lxxxv. 10. . . . . . . . . & e e º e e 189
lxxxvi. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475
lxxxvi. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 177
lxxxix. 47. . . . . . . . . . . . 392, 651
Xc. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 663
Xc. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 570
Xc. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 268
Xc. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123
Xc. 11 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 177, 545
Xc. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122, 389
Xc. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 468
xci. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 327
xci. 5, 6- . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 220
xcii. 12, 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 335
xcii. 12–14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167
xcii. 14, 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 132
Xciii. 1. . . . . * c e s e e s e ... .. 618
Xciv. 12. . . . . © tº e º e º e º 'º e tº 533
Xevi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 549
xcvi. 7, 8 • Q gº º 354
xcvi. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 452
xcvii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 549
xcvii. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 399
xcvii. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . 194, 224
xcvii. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94, 152
1 xcviii. . . . . . . . . ...... . . . . . 549
xcix. . . . . . . & e º e º e º o . . . . . 494
ci. 2. . . . . . . . . . . © e e º ſº º e ſº 323
cii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213
cii. 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 499, 549
cii. 26. . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . 78
ciii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 606
CH. VER. PAGE.
ciii. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 160, 680
ciii. 13. . . . . . . . . . 158, 215, 601
ciii. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 395, 545
ciii. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122
ciii. 20. . . . . . . . . & e º n e s e e 608
ciii. 22. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 531
civ. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 465
civ. 24. . . . . . . . . . 355, 385,663
civ. 28. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 368
civ. 29. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 570
civ. 31–34. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 673
civ. 34. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93
evii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 354, 604
cvii. 42. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 524
cvii. 43. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 523
cx. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 587
cx. 2. * * * * * e e s a e e a e º e 606
cx. 3. . . . . © tº e e º e . 119, 120, 684
ex. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • 8
cxi. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176
cxii. 1. . . . . . . . . . . 495, 693, 695
cxii. 1, 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 177
cxii. 3–5, 8, 13. . . . . . . . . . 132
cxii. 7, 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 495
exiii. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . , 160
cxiii. 7, 8, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76
cxiii. 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92
CXV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 626
cxvi. 1. . . . . . . . . . 234, 300, 573
cxvi. 7... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200
cxvi. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 143
cxvi. 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 622
cxviii. 23. . . . . . . º º º º e g º e 141
cxix. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 448, 470
cxix. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 693
cxix. 4, 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 698
cxix. 4, 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 609
cxix. 5, 11, 13, 15, 16, 24, 27 130
cxix. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 474, 608
cxix. 6.... 11, 13, 16, 24, 33, 67
• * * * e º e º e º & e º 'º . 105, 608
cxix. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137
cxix. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 702
cxix. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 564
cxix. 14, 16, 113. . . . . . . . . 470
cxix. 17. . . . . . e e º & © e º & 218, 225
cxix. 19. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 396
cxix. 20..... © e e o e e s tº e 129, 470
cxix. 28. . . . . . tº e e s e º 'º e º 'º 243
cxix. 32. . . . . . . . . 165, 290, 505
cxix. 44. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 608
cxix. 47, 48, 113, 140..... 470
cxix. 52. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 386
cxix. 59. . . . . . . . . © º e s tº a e 236
cxix. 96. . . . . . . * * * * * * * * * 527
cxix. 97....... * e e e s a e e e 470
cxix. 97, 102, 103....... . 132
cxix. 104. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 563
cxix. 105. . . . . . . . . . . ... 104, 178
cxix. 113. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 129
cxix. 113, 128. . . . . . . . . . . 195
cxix. 120......... 108, 177, 361
cxix. 127. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 470
cxix. 128. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 379
cxix. 130. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 707
cxix. 136. . . . . . . . 470, 609, 725
cxix. 137. . . . . . . . . . . . 530, 544
cxix. 139. . . . . . . . . . . . ... 471
cxix. 158. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 471
cxix. 163. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 471
cxix. 176. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 201
Ch. Ves. PAGE. I CH. W.E.R. PAGE. 1 CH. W.E.R. PAGE.
cxxii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213 viii. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 443 v. 2. . . . . . . . tº e º O e º e º - e º º 597
cxxii. 3. . . . . . & e º & e º 'º . . . . 631 viii. 31. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 383 |V. 2, 3........ . . . . . . . . . . . 233
CXXIll. • . . . . . . . © º e e º ºs e º 'º e • 73 l viii. 36. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 649 IV. 11 - . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 528, 612
cxxiv. . . . . . . . • e º s e e e e º e e 492 ix. 4, 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 524 vii. 2.... . . . . . . . . . . & © e º e
CXXV. 1. . . . . . . . . . 102, 143, 583 |ix. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 178 vii. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.18
CXXVi. 1 . . . . . . . . . & e º 'º e º e e 81 | X-9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 640 vii. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • 634
cxxvi. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475 | X. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217 | vii. 29. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 490
cxxvii. 3. . . . . e & © tº º e e º e º o 120 | X. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 306 viii. 6, 7... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89
cxxix. 3. . . . . . • e e e º e s e a e 185 | X. 19........ 222, 400, 598, 701 viii. 9.................. 486
cxxx............. 357, 370, 550 | xi. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 222, 223 viii. 11... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 268
CXXX. 1. . . . . e e º e o e º a 6 & © tº 370 | xi. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 246 lix. 9... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 237
cxxx. 2, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 373 | xi. 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75 lix. 11–15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 529
cxxx. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 375, 385 | xiii. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175 | x. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 225
cxxx. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • 377 | xiii. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 667 | x. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . © tº º tº e C. 650
cxxx. 5-8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 380 | xiv. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190 | xi. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 687
cxxx. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 102, 572 | xiv. 26. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 357 | xi. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 500, 579
cxxx. 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 497 | xiv. 32. . . . . • e º e s e a e º e º e 76 | xi. 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 448
cxxxi. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 405 | XV. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 239 | xii. 10, 11, 14. . . . . . . . . . . 176
cxxxi. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 503 |XV. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 640
CXXXII. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 530 | XV. 33. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 108 CANTICLEs.
cxxxii. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150 | xvi. 4. . . . . . . . . . . 627, 672, 695 | i. 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98
cxxxiii. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 480 | xvi. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 542 i. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 162
cxxxiii. 2, 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . 214 | xvi. 31. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 335 | i. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 186, 584
cxxxv. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 677 | xvii. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 634 i. 10, 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 206
CXXXVll . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213 | xvii. 27. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217 li. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 366
cxxxvii. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . 499, 509 | xviii. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98 ii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 572
cxxxviii. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 509 | xviii. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 565 | ii. 1, 10.... . . . . . . . . . . . . 186
cxxxviii. 8. . . . . . . . . . . 124, 235 | xviii. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81, 357 |ii. 3, 8... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133
exxxix. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 677 | xviii. 10, 11... . . . . . . . . . . 498 lii. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 246
cxxxix. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 309 | xix. 3. . . . . . . . . © e º e s e e s e 255 | ii. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231
cxxxix. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 674 | xix. 7... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 258 ii. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 164
exxxix. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 595 | xix. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 307, 615 | ii. 16... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147
cxli. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • 138 | xix. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 545 iii. 5. . . . . . . tº e º e º se e . . . . . 416
cxli. 3. . . . . . . e e º dº sº e º e º e e 387 | xix. 16....... . . . . . . . . . . . 345 iii. 6... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 139, 299
cxli. 5. . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º 'º e e 408 | xix. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217, 637 || iii. 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 142, 557
cxli. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232 | xix. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 568 liv. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119, 201
cxlii. 4, 5. . . . . . . . * e e a a e e 395 | xx. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 444 iv. 9 º e º 'º e º 'º - ºn tº . 595
cxliv. 2, 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 390 | XX. 24. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 542 iv. 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 557
cxliv. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135 | xx. 27. . . . . tº e a e e º e e o us e e º 551 v. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 549
cxlv. 3. . . . . tº e º e º º e º 'º - e. e. e. 700 | xxi. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 292, 542 v. 7... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 621
cxlv. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 525 | xxii. 29...... . . . . . . . . . . . 579 v. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133
cxlv. 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 368 | xxiii. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 195 v. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . 105, 112, 457
cxlvi. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122, 231 | xxiii. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 352, 534 v. 11, 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
cxlvii. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 610 | xxiii. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 178 viii. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98, 585
cxlvii. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . - 496 | xxiii. 26. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 561 viii. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 230
cxlvii. 19. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 500 | xxiii. 29. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 239
cxlviii. . . . . . . . ... . . . . . . . . 491 | xxiii. 31. . . . . . . . . . . . . 195, 225 ISAIAH
xxiii. 34. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 583 i. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138, 362
PROVERBs XXV. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76 i. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 566
i. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 525 | xxvi. 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175 li. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228
l. 3 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 667 XXvi. 23. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 221 | i. 14–16, 18. . . . . . . t e º 'º e > 702
i. 26, 28. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228 | xxvii. 19...... . . . . . . . . . . 578 i. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 519
i. 30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 255 | xxviii. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109 i. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 323
i. 32. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 250 | xxviii. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . 110, 532 i. 24. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 483
ii. 3, 6- . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 524 | xxix. 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 701 | ii. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 112
ii. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 667 | xxx. . . . . . . . . . . . . 448 lii. 11 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 499
iii. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 323 XXX. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 546 ii. 13, 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 536
iii. 17. . . . . tº e e º e º e º e º e º 'º' 694 | XXX. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . & e o e º 'º' 611 | ii. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 132
iii. 27. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 636 XXX. 12........... 67, 276, 445 | iii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . . . . 328
iii. 27, 28. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 308 | xxxi. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 596 liv. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 463
iv. 3. . . . . e e s e o e s e s e º 'º e a e 196 V - - - - - ; e. e. e. e. e. e s e e º 'º e º 'º º º 557
iv. 7... . . e e s a e s e s • * * * * * * 667 EccLESIASTES. v. 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 499
iv. 18. . . . . e a e s a e e º 'º - © e s - 520 i. 1......... tº e s - e. e. e. e. e & © & 204 livi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 398
iv. 23. . . . . . . 199, 253, 387, 635 | i. 4................. 123, 295 vi. 1–3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 398
iv. 23, 24. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 165 | i. 15, 18 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 391 | vi. 3. . . . . º e e s e e º e. e. e. e. e. e. e. 354
iv. 23–26. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 345 | i. 18............... . 529, 666 vi. 3, 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107
v. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 551, 565 | ii. 2................. 225, 658 vi. 4, 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 399
v. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . e e e º 'º e & 225 | ii. 13.............. ... .. 523 l vi. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 221, 546
vii. 22. . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º & • 215 lii. 16................... 529 vi. 6, 7- - - - - - - - - - - - - . . . . 400
vii. 26. . . . . tº gº e º º e . . . . . . . 220 liv. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . tº e e º & G e 529 vi. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 401
viii. . . . . . . . . . . . . ..... . . . . 443 iv. 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 529 vi. 9... . . . . . . . • * * * * * * * * 500
CH. VER PAGE. 1 CH, VER. PAGE. CH, VER PAGE
vi. 9, 10. . . . . . . tº g º e º e º 'º . 402 | xlv. 9. . . . . * e º e º e e s e º 0. 178 JEREMIAH
vi. 11, 12 & © e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. • 403 | xlv. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 583 i. 10 e • e o p . . 402
vi. 13 © º e e º e º e s a e e 270, 404 | xlv. 16. . . . . . . . . . tº tº e º e º e 247 ii. 19. . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . 565
vii. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 498 | xlv. 19. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 235 ii. 20. . . . . . . . . ſº e º e º 'º e e s e 287
vii. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 497 | xlv. 24. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .341 ii. 22. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66, 624
vii. 10–13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 142 | xlvii. 1......... . . . . . . . . . 455 ii. 27. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 393
viii. 11 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 570 | xlvii. 7... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 455 ii. 28. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228
viii. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 494 | xlix. 4..... e e s e s e º e º e º 'º e 579 ii. 32. . . . . 0 e º & © & © tº e º e g º e 516
viii. 12, 13. . . . . . . . . . . 109, 243 | xlix. 6......... 0 e e o e º e a e 460 l ii. 36... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200
viii. 13. . . . . . . . . . 244, 569, 603 | xlix. 15.............. 158, 215 iii. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . 548, 614, 626
viii. 17. . . . . . . . . © e º e e º e º 'º 569 | xlix. 16............. . . . . 230 iii. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 287
viii. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 461 |l. 2.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 517 iii. 12....... . . . . . . . . . 190, 548
ix. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • 141 | 1. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 578 iii. 14. . . . . © e a e s e e e - © e ºn tº -
ix. 7. . . . . © e < e < e º e s e º e º 'º º 141 |l. 6... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1991 iii. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 329
ix. 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 516 | 1. 8... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 277, 512 iv. 3. . . . . • * * * * > e º e º 'º e s tº e 502
X. 5, 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • 542 | 1. 10................ 246, 498 || iv. 14. . . . . . . . . . . 111, 165, 642
X. 5, 16, 24, 25. . . . . . . . . • 324 |l. 11... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 273 v. 22. . . . . . . * * * * g e e e s e e 495
x. 17, 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • 463 li. 11... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 318 vi. 7...... tº e º gº º º º º . . . . . . 165
xi. 6- . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 687 li. 12, ... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 583 vii. 4. . . . . . . . . tº º e º e º te e ... 500
xiii. 21. . . . . . . . © e s a e e s e a e 105 |li. 12, 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 517 vii. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 159
xxii. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 412 li. 16.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 583 viii. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 236
xxvi. 1. . . . . . . . . • * * * * * * • 81 |lii. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 458 ix. 1. . . . . © s e º e º e e º e º ºs e s º 472
xxvi. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 497, 572 |lii. 10, 14, 15...... . . . . . . 264 ix. 1, 2, 3. . . . . . . • 2 g º e º e . 473
xxvi. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 262, 555 lii. 15.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66 ix. 4, 5. . . . . . . . e e º e º ºs e º 'º 221
xxvi. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 341 liii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98 ix. 23, 24...... . . . . . . . . . . 453
xxvi. 13. . . . . . . * e º e º e º e e 288 |liii. 1................... 95 | x. 7... . . tº e º is e º º º e º & e 605, 624
xxvi. 19. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 281 |liii. 1–8... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 584 X. 23, 24. . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º º 541
xxvii. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81, 144|liii. 4........... 188, 190, 192 | X.25. . . . . . . . . . . . tº º º e º 'º - 543
xxvii. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 323, 567 liii. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 259, 585 | xii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . & e e e º e 269
xxviii. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 334 liii. 6...... tº e s e e º ºs e º 'º 538, 575 | xiii. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 471
xxviii. 5, 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 450 liii. 7........ 112, 186, 191, 585 | xiv. 7–9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 550
XXviii. 16. . . . . . . . 140, 348, 572 liii. 8............. . . . . . . 584 xiv. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228, 519
xxviii. 24–29. . . . . . . . . . . . 549 liii. 10..... 6 e º s e º e º e º 'º e e 1921 XV. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 313
xxix. . . . . . . . . . © º e º e o e º sº e 362 liii. 12........ . . . . . . . 264, 575 | XV. 19. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 293
xxix. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 520 liv........ * - - - - - - - - - - - - 544 XV. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 319
xxix. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 229 liv. 5.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • 383 | xvii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 629
xxx. 7. . . . . . . . . . . tº s e s a ºn e 546 liv. 7... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 269 | xvii. 7... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 583
xxx. 9, 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 546 liv. 7, 8... . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 215 | xvii. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 534
xxx. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547 liv. 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95 | xvii. 9... . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 583
XXX. 15–18. . . . . 0 e g º e e s tº º 545 liv. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 341 | xvii. 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 261
xxx. 18. . . . . . . . . . 339, 548, 572 lv. 2................. . . . 290 | xx. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 388, 402
XXX. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 329 lv. 7... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 548, 614 | xxi. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 494
xxxi. 2, 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 547 |lvii. 15 ..... 134, 136, 229, 602 | Xxii. 19. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 545
xxxi. 5, 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 548 lvii. 16................. . 545 | XXiii. 32. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 224
xxxiii. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 484 |lvii. 19. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 385 | xxvi. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 498
xxxv. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 341 lvii. 20.......... 226, 244, 441 | xxix. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 323
XXXV. 6... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 508 lvii. 21... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74 XXX. 11 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 545
xxxviii. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 395 |lviii................ . . . . . 631 | xxx. 17, 18. . . . . e e º 'º º º ... 339
xxxviii. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 397 |lviii. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 460 | xxxi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 614
xxxix. 8. . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . 256 |lviii. 13, 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . 629 | xxxi. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 414
xl. 11... . . . . . . . . . . . . 331, 342 lix. 1......... . . . . . . . . . . 571 | xxxi. 18..... . . . . . 215, 548, 551
xl. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • 199| lix. 1, 2............ . . . . . 515 | xxxi. 18–20. . . . . . . . . . . . . 548
xl. 25. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 626 lix. 9............... .... 516 | xxxi. 20... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158
xl. 28. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 630 | lix. 11.......... . . . . . . . . 351 | XXXi. 33. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 562
xl. 29. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 341 lix. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 515 XXXi. 33, 34. . . . . . & © tº º e º 'º - 615
xli. 12, 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 384 ||x. 1.............. . . 265,459 | xxxi. 34. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 548
xli. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 517 | lx. 18, 19 ............ 460 | xxxii. 17, 27, 36. . . . . . . . . 517
xli. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 384 lxi. 1............. 92, 112, 172 | xxxii. 40. . . . . . . . . . ...... 177
xlii. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 460 lxi. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 557 | xlii. 2..... & e a e e º 'o e º e e º e 547
xlii. 24. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 447 lxii. 6........... 191, 199, 200 | xlv. 4, 5... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 612
xliii. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 341 lxii. 7... . . . . . . . . . . . . © e e xlvi. 15.......... e e s is e º e 547
xliii. 7... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 627 lxii. 9........ . . . . . . . . . . 215 | 1. 38. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 292
xliii. 10 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 189| lxiii. 9.......... . . . . . 213, 299| li. 19, 20... . . . . . . . . . . . . 384
xliii. 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 384, 618 lxiv.................... 603
xliii. 25. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158, 350 lxiv. 1......... a s e s tº e a e e 403 LAMENTATIONS.
xliv. 2... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 613 lxiv. 5............ . . . . . . .343 i–v. . . . . . . . . . . . ..... . . . . . 499
xliv. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 623 lxv. 25. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80 l i. 14. . . . . . . . • * * * * * * * * * * * 447
xliv. 20.......... 111, 198, 223 lxvi. 1, 2............ . . . . 136 iii. . . . . tº ſº e º & © e ........ . . . 448
xliv. 24. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 384 lxvi. 9........ ... . . . . . . . 119 iii. 22. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 544
xlv. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 585 lxvi. 24...... ........... 325 | iii. 32, 33. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 548
f4
INDEX.
CH. VER. PAGE.
iii. 43, 44. .............. 516
iii. 51. ................. 571
iii. 56. ................. 372
iv. 4................... 162
iv. 5..... · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 121
v. 16. ..... ...... • • • • • • • 473
EzEKIEL.
viii............... • • • 441, 624
viii. 7............ • • • • • • 515
viii. 18............ e • • • • • 228
ix. 3........... • • • • • • • . 550
ix. 4.......... • • . . . . . • • 473
ix. 6. . . . . . . . . . . · · · · · · · · 323
xiii. 7........... • • • • • .. 315
xiv. 3. · · · · · · • • • • o s e se • • • 221
xvi. • • • • • • *• • • • • • • • • • • • • • 158
xviii. 20. .............. . 626
xx. 24. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 111
xxi. 21. . . . . . . • • • • • . . . . . 542
xxvi. 26. ... . . . . ........ 119
xxviii. 5 � _• • • • • e o • • • • 442
xxxii. 3. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 587
xxxiii. 31. . . . . • • • • • • • . . . 200
xxxiii. 32. ... 130, 332, 403, 501
xxxiv. 16. ........ • • . 200, 331
xxxvi · · · · · · · · · · · · · 544
xxxvi. 23. • • • ........... 604
xxxvi. 25. ........ ... 287, 603
xxxviii. · · · · · · · · · ·........ 157
xliii. 3. • • • • • • • ... . . . 402
xlvii. 5. • • • • • • • • • . . . . . .. 179
DANIEL.
ii. 35. • • • • •............ . 141
iii. 15.................. 494
iii. 16........ e • • • • • e • • • 245
iii. 17. . . . . • • • • • • *• • • • • • • 583
iv. 25. • • • • • • • • • ........ 170
iv. 32. . . . . · · · · · · · · · · · · · 353
iv. 34. • • • • • • • . ....... .. 618
vi. 5, 14. • • • • • . . . . . . . . . . 494
1X • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 544, 603
ix. 3.... � • ©* ... 95
ix. 7. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 603
x. 11. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • . . 95
xii. 10......... • • • • • • • • . 262
HosEA
ii. 8. . . . . ............ ... 338
ii. 8, 13, 14—16.......... 533
ii. 23......... e • • • • e • 157, 158
iii. 5. • • • ...... � • • • • • 177, 496
iv. 1, 2. . . . . e • • • • • � e • • ® ® 443
iv. 1, 2, 3. .... • • • e • • • • • • 624
v. 12, 14. ............... 610
v. 13. • • • • • • • • • ......... 403
v. 15. • • • • • • • •...... . 551, 564
vi. 1. • • • • • • • • . . . . . . . 403, 515
vi. 2. • • • • • • ... 587
vi. 5. .. • • • • • . 402, 565
vii. 14. ... • • • • • • • .... 368, 568
viii. 7. . . . . . . . • • • • • • • • • • 224
xi. 3. • • • • • ... • • • • • • • • .. 199
xi. 8. · · · · · · · · · · · 215, 541, 565
xi. 12............. • • • • • 221
xii. 1........... • • • • • • • • 531
xii. 9.......... • • e e e • • • 572
xiii. 9....... • • • • • ... 565, 572
xiv. 1—5................ 572 l.
xiv. 8................ . . 558
Ca. VER. PAgr.
JoEL.
ii. 6. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 143
ii. 17. • • • • •...... • • • • • • • 474
AMOs.
iii. 2............. 69, 323, 517
iii. 3. • • • • • • • •...••• • • • .. 229
iii. 6. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 555
V. 8. • • • • • •.. • • • • • • • ... . 384
v. 18. ............ ...... 607
ix. 4. • • • • • .............. 228
JoNAH.
i. 6. ... ... s • • • • • • • · · · · · · 661
ii. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • ... 372
ii. 3, 4. . . . . • • • • • • • • • • • • • 466
ii. 4. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • ..... 573
MICAH
ii. 1 • • • • • • • • • • • • • .... 442
ii. 11. • • • • • e ... • • • • • 329
v. 2. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • . 414
vi. 6. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • . 138, 278
vi. 7, 8. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 229
vi. 9. • • • • • • • • • • • • • •• • • • • 83
vii. 8. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • .. 463
vii. 9. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • .. 544
ZEPHANIAH.
iii. 9. • • • • • • • • • • • •• • • • • 399
HABAKKUK.
i. 14......... • • • • • • .... 158
i. 15. · · · · · · · · · · • • • • • • • • • 678
ii. • • • • • • • • • � � • • • • • ..... 474
ii. 1. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 97
ii. 3. • • • • • • . . . . • • • • • • 549, 572
ii. 3, 4. • • • • e • • • • • • • • • • • . 678
ii. 15, 16. ....... • e «• • • • • . 474
iii. 16, 19. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 532
iii. 17. . . . . • • • • • • • • • • . 86, 467
iii. 17, 18. . . . . . e» e» • e *• • • • . 531
ZECHARIAH.
ii. 4. • • • • • • • • • • • & e e e s • • • 463
iii. 3-5. ... • • • • • • • • • • • • • 160
iv. 10. • • • • • • • • • • • ...... 349
xii. 1. ... • • • • • • • • • • • . 384, 622
xii. 10.... • • • • � © • e • • • • • • 198
xiii. 1. ... • • • • • • • • • • • . 149, 461
xiii. 4. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • . 419
MALACHI
i. 6. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 603
iii. 17........... · · · · · · · 136
iv. 2. ......... • • • _• • • 141, 152
IMATTHEw.
i. 1. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · . . 411
i. 18. • • • • • • • • • • • ....... 412
i. 20. • • • • •............ . 412
i. 21. ............ • • • 413, 680
i. 22........... • • • • • • • • 412
ii. 1, 2............ * * • • • • 413
ii. 3.................... 414
ii. 7-12.............. ... 414
ii. 11. ..... -........-.-- 416
ii. 13—23....... e • • • • • • • . 414
iii. 1.......... • • • • • • • .. 417
iii. 2................... 418
CH. VER. PAG1*
iii. 3. ... . • • • • • • • • • • • • • . 419
iii. 4. .. · · · · · · · · · · · · · ... 419
iii. 5. .......... • • • • • • .. 419
iii. 8. ....... e • • • • • • • • • • 419
iii. 9..... s • • • • • • • • ... . . 420
iii. 10. ... .. · · · · · · · · · 420. 558
iii. 11. ... • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 420
iii. 12. • • • • • .... . . . . . . . . 420
iii. 13—15........ e • • • • • • 420
iii. 15........... ....... 538
iii. 16, 17. ... ........ 420
iv. 1....................* 420
iv. 2. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 421
iv. 3................ 346, 421
iv. 7. • • • • • • • • • •• • • • • • • • • 706
iv. 10............. • • • • • 423
iv. 11. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 423
iv. 12. ........... e e s • • • 423
iv. 13........ • • • • • ..... 423
iv. 14-16. ... . . . . . . . . . . . 423
iv. 16. ........ . . . · · · · · · 456
iv. 17. .......... • • • • • • • 423
iv. 18. ............ • • • • . 424
iv. 19........ · · · · · · · · .. 424
iv. 23............. ... . . 424
V • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 621
v. 1, 2.-. . . . . . · · · · · · · .. 424
v. 3. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 689
v. 6. • • • • • • • • • . . . . . . . . 74, 458
v. 8. ... · · · · · · · · · 128, 695, 703
v. 9. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 727
v. 10• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 579
v. 10, 11 c. ...... 318
v. 11. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 320
V. 12. • • • • • • • • • ...... 295, 313
v. 13, 14. • • • • • • • ... ..... 425
v. 16. . . . . . . • • * • • • • • • • • . 155
v. 17......... e • • • • ® • • 425
v. 18. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 295
V. 21. . . . . . . • • • • • • • • • • • • 633
V. 21-29........ ... • • • • • 426
v. 22. • • • • • • . . . . . . . • • • • . 305
v. 31-43. . . . . . . . . . . . . . -. 426
v. 34. • • • • • • • • • • • . � _• • • • • 628
V. 44. . . . . . . . • • • • • ... 217. 634
v. 44—48............. 218. 615
V. 45. ... .............. . 638
V. 48. • • • • • • • .......... . 106
vi. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · . 426
vi. 3................ 138. 308
vi. 9........... .... •.... 594
vi. 19..... · · · · · · · · · · · · · 428
vi. 20. ... · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 79
vi. 21.................. 96
vi. 24-34...... ......... 428
vi. 31.................. 341
vi. 32. . . . . . • • • • • • s • • • • • 343
vii. 1-5. · · · · · · · · · · · · · ... 429
vii. 6. · · · · · · · · · · · · ...... 430
vii. 7........... • • • e s • • • • 430
vii. 11. . . . . • • • • • • • • • . 300, 601
vii. 12, 15. . . . . • • • • ..... 430
vii. 13. . . . . • • • • • ........ 430
vii. 15. . . . . . . . • · · · · · · · · · 431
vii. 16, 17. ... • • • • • • • . . . . 165
vii. 21. • • • • se e • • • • • • • • ... 431
vii. 24—27. .. • • • • • • • • . . . . 348
vii. 25. . • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 86
vii. 28. ... • • • • • ........ 431
vii. 29. . . . . · · · · · · · · · · · · · 229
viii. • • • • • •••• • • • • • • • • • • • • 431
INDEX. 775
CH. V Ε R PAGw. 1 CH. Veg. PAGE. I CH. VrR. Page.
viii. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . • • • • 431 MARK. i. 12..... 75, 538, 600, 681, 687
viii. 2. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · • 431 l i. 45.................... 432 | i. 12, 13...... • • • . . . . . . · 48
viii. 3. .............. ... 432 | iv. 1................... 501 | i. 12, 14. ....... ..... 537, 584
viii. 4. ........... *• • • • • • 432 | iv. 4............... .... 501 l i. 13. ............... 119, 684
viii. 5—9... .... • • • • • • • • 432 | vi. 20. ... •. -. . . . . . ..... 131 | i. 14. ... 141, 147, 187, 477, 680
viii. 10. ................ 432 | viii. 36. ................ 327 1 i. 16. ... • • • • • • • •... .. 149, 254
viii. 14. ...... «• • • _ • • • • • • 433 | ix. 44. ................. 325 | i. 18........ e e e • • • • • • • • • 443
viii. 15....... • • • • • • • ... 433 i. 29. ... ... . 112, 149, 192, 510
viii. 16....... • • • • • • • • • • 433 LUKE i. 42. . . . . . . . o • o • • • • • • • .. 63
viii. 19, 20....... • • • • • • • 434 | i. 7, 8. · · · · · · · · · · · · · ... . 169 I i. 47............... ..... 3
viii. 21. .... • • • • • • • ..... 434 | i. 28, 29. .... • . . . . . . . . . . 399 | iii. 3. • • • . . . . • • •.. 119, 125, 681
viii. 23-27. ... . . . . . . . ... 434 | i. 47................... 92 | iii. 9. . . . . • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 1
viii. 28-34. ........ • . . . . 436 | i. 51. ... . « • • • • • e • • • • ... 536 | iii. 10. . . . . . . . . . • • • • • • • . 119
1X• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • · · · · · · · 436 | i. 74. .......... , ....... 622 | iii. 16. ... . e e • • • • • • .. 126, 189
ix. 1 • • • • • • • • • • • • ••. • • • • • 436 | i. 78. .... � • • • • • • • • • .... 460 l iii. 19. . . . . . . . • • • • • • • 153
ix. 2. • • • .......... ...... 436 | i. 78, 79............. 105, 692 | iii. 33. . . . . . . . ........ 155, 497
ix. 3. ...... • • • * • • • • • • ... 437 | ii. 10, 11.......... .. .... 680 | iv. 24. ..... . . . . . . ... 134, 702
ix. 4. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 437 | ii. 10, 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 92 | v. 29 © © • • • ® e e • • • • • 593
ix. 5. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · . 438 | ii. 25, 38. . . . . . . . . . . . .... 550 l v. 39. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98, 140
ix. 6. • • • • . . . è • • • • • • • • ... 438 | ii. 29. .............. .... 98 1 v. 40........ � � 136
ix. 8........ *• w • * • • * • • • • . 438 | ii. 34. ......... ......... 152 1 vi. • • • • • • & e e s s e ... . . . . 135, 265
ix. 9................. ... 438 | iii. 8. .................. 119 | vi. 17 • «• • • • • • • • • • • • • 525
ix. 10—13...... • ■ • • • • • • • • 439 | iii. 38.............. . 118, 681 ] vi. 27. .............. , 206, 611
ix. 13................... 706 i iv. 1........... · · · · · · · · 421 i vi. 29........ • • • • • ... • • 145
x. 16. • • • . . . . . . . . 313, 367, 591 | iv. 15. ... • • • • ... . . . .... 423 | vi. 37....... 186, 189, 272, 705
x, 17. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 579 l v. 5. . . . . . . * • • • • • • • • • • • • 408 | vi. 44. . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . . 538
x. 24. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 316 | vi. 38. . . . . . . . . . . . ..... . 656 | vi. 45. . . . . . . • . . . . • • 95
x. 24, 25. ............... 19 | viii. 5.................. 501 l vi. 65. ... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136
X. 28. • • • • • • • . . . . 178, 580, 652 | viii. 26. ................ 229 | vi. 68. ...... e • • • • •. ..... 297
x. 30. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 327 | ix. 55.................. 269 | vii. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . 288
x. 34. • • • • • • • • • • • . . . • • • 314 1 x. 16. • • • • • • • • • • • • • . .... 267 | vii. 37, 38. .... ■• e • • • • • • .. 385
xi. 17, 19. . . . . v» • • • • • • • • • 91 1 xi.. • • • • • • • • • • e • • • • ® • 348 | vii. 48, 49. .............. •
xi. 21. • • • • • • • • • • e e e • • • .. 332 | xi. 4. .... • • • e e e • • • • • • e • 613 | viii. 12...152, 187, 283, 460, 599
xi. 25. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 181 | xi. 13. . . . . � • • e • • • • • • • • • 300 | viii. 21. . . . . . . . . s • • • • • e • 86
xi. 26. . . . . . . . . • • • • • • • • . 114 | xii. 4. .... • • • • • • • • • • • • .. 109 l viii. 35. . . . . . . . . . . . . . • • • 268
xi. 28. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 652 | xii. 13. . . . . • • • • • • * * • • • .. 341 | viii. 36. .... • • • ■ • • • • . 172, 622
xi. 29. ..... . 207, 218, 239, 586 | xii. 15........ e © .... 612 | viii. 44. ....... • • • • • • 146, 304
xi. 30. .... • • • • • • • • • • • .. 186 | xii. 19. ..... e • • • • • • • . 534 | viii. 56. ....... • • • • • • • • • 98
xii. 18, 19............ • • • 251 l xii. 35....... • • • • • • . . . . . 102 | x. 9, 11. ... · · · · · · · · · · · · . 200
xii. 19...... · · · · · · · · · · · · 478 l xii. 42........ «• e • • • • • • • • 444 l x. 10........ · · · · · · · · 298, 326
xii. 33. ...... · · · · · · · · · · · 253 | xiii. 1—9. .. . 554 l x. 15. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 575
xii. 34. .... • • • • • • e • • • 126, 221 | xiii. 3........... • • • • • .. 706 | x. 15, 18.............. .. 585
xii. 36. .... • • • • • © © • • • 220, 320 | xiii. 4, 5... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 237 l x. 18...... • • • • e • • • • • • .. 192
xiii. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . • • • • • • 500 | xv. 4, 5...... · · · · · · · · · · · 200 | x. 27, 28.......... • • • • • • 201
xiii. 16. .... · · · · · · · · · · · · 98 | xvii. 21.......... . . . . . . . 97 l x. 28—30. . . . . « * «• • • • • • • s e s 201
xiii. 19. ................ 501 | xvii. 27......... . . . . . ... 270 l x. 29. ... ... • • • • • • • • • • •>. . 328
xv. 18. .... «• • • • • • • • • • • • • 117 | xvii. 34. ... . . . . . . *• • • • • • • 203 l xi. 40. • • • • • • • • • • • • • . . . . 460
xv. 19..... � s e e e e • • • • • • • 641 l xviii....... • • • • • • • • ..... 358 | xii. 3. • • • • • • • • • • • • • . . . . . 478
xvi. 18. .............. 63, 142 | xix. 17.... . . • • • • • • • • • • • • 225 | xii. 41. . . • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 460
xvi. 22........... • • • • • • 184 | xxi. 28. ... . . . . . . • •.. • • • • 102 | xiii. 6. . . . . . • • • • • • . . . . . . 185
xvi. 22, 23. ............ • 315 l xxi. 34. ......... 292, 301, 346 | xiii. 10. ... • • • • . . . . • • • • • * * 592
xvi. 24. ... . • • • s • • � • • • • • 313 I xxii. 22. ... . . . . . . . e • • • • • 189 I xiii. 34. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116
xvi. 26. ............... . 204 l xxii. 24. ... . ............ 335 | xiii. 35. ... • • • • • . 116, 175, 634
xviii. 7.................. 251 | xxii. 25, 26. .......... • • • 333 I xiv. 2...... ... . . . . . . 188, 602
xviii. 19....... . . . . . . . . • 209 l xxii. 32........... • • • • • • 577 | xiv. 3. . . . . e s • • • • • • . . . . . 588
xviii. 20. ....... ........ 211 | xxiv. 12............ • • • • . 315 | xiv. 6......... e e • • • • • 234, 584
xviii. 21. ............... 307 l xxiv. 19.......... ....... 327 | xiv. 13....... e • • • • • • • • • 300
xix. 17......... · · · · · · · · 699 l xxiv. 21. ... ............ . 264 | xiv. 19........... 96, 282, 587
xix. 28. .... • • * • • • • • • • • . 684 | xxiv. 25, 26. ............ 185 l xiv. 23. ........... • • • • • 8
xxii. 32. . . . . . . . . . • • • • • • 211 | xxiv. 25, 27........ . 98 l xiv. 30. ... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 186
xxii. 37, 39. . . . . • • • • • • • • . 560 l xxiv. 26. ........... . . . . 281 l xv. 5............. • • • • • • 347
xxiv. 12. . . . . . . . . . . ..... 308 | xxiv. 48..... • • • • • • • • • • . 329 | xv. 8........ • • • • • • • • 155, 558
xxiv. 30 •\ • • • • • • • • • • • 590 xv. 12....... • • • • • • • • • • • 214
xxiv. 46. ... . . . . . . . • • • • • 173 JoHN. xv. 18...... • • • • • • • • • 185, 668
xxv. 13. ........... • • • • • 103 l 1......... • • • • ..... ..... 536 | xv. 18, 20. . . . • • • • • • • • • • • 318
xxv. 23. ...... .......... 182 | i. 1, 14............ • • • • . 583 l xv. 19. . . . . • • • • • • • • • • • • 66, 68
xxv. 29................. 310 | i. 4................. 152, 462 | xv. 20. . • • • • • • • • • • • • • 315, 316
xxv. 40..... e • • • • • • • • • .. 637 | i. 4, 9............... ... 266 | xvi. 1. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 184
xxvi. 33..... • e • e • • • • • • . 191 | i. 4, 9, 18. .............. 152 | xvi. 7. • • • • • • • è • • • • • • • • • 576,
xxvi. 39................ 189 l i. 10............ ........ 383 | xvi. 8, 9.. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 144
xxvi. 41................ 300 li. 10, 12................ 680 l xvi. 20. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 475
776
INDEX.
CH. W.E.R.
xvi. 22.
xvi. 33. . .
xvii. . . . . . . . . .
xvii. 1. . . .
xvii. 2, 10.....
xvii. 3...
xvii. 17
xvii. 21. . . . . . . . . ... . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . 184, 240
tº º e º e º 'º º 304, 348
..... 192, 259, 693
xvii. 4, 6, 8, 24. . . . . . . . .
e e e º e º 'º e º s ſº º e s e s e
e e º 'º e o e º s e e º e e º 'º
sº e º e º e º & e º e º ſº tº 589, 590
........ 66,259,260,
xxiii. 6. . . . . . . e e º e º & G s s . 249
... 166, 183, 253
CH. W.E.R. PAGE.
i. 30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 640
i. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 215, 261
ii. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101, 230
ii. 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87, 175
ii. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 563
ii. 29. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181
iii. 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 621, 640
• 6. . . . . tº e º e º a tº e º 'a e e º e 366
iv. 20. . . . . . . . * - e º e º de & 155
tº e º tº e º tº º • * c e s ∈ e. 73
V. 1, 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 260
* * * * * * * * . 249, 479
v. 7, 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 484
tº º 'º dº º ºr . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 189
Vl. . . . . . . e e º e º ſº & e º sº tº e º e 76
3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 284
4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197, 277
vi. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 296
vi. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76
vi. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 286
vi. 17. . . . . tº e º º e º ºs º 'º e º 'º . 145
vi. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 172, 196
vi. 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 11
vii. 3. . . . . & e e º e º e º e º 'º e & . 620
vii. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 564
vii. 7. . . . . © tº e s e º e º e º 'º e º ſº 641
Wii. 10. . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . 116
Vii. 12, 14. . . . . . . . . . 482
Vii. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • 641
vii. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69
Vii. 21. . . . . . . . . . . tº e g tº dº º tº 226
Vii. 23. . . . . . . . . tº e º e º & 563, 609
Vii. 24. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 654
• * * * * e s e a e e tº º . 226,573
1. . . . . . . . . . . . 404, 519
iii. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 476, 481
7. . . . . . . . . e e g º e º tº 481,563
7, 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 284
tº º is e º e º ºs e º e º 'º e º º 71, 101
9, 14, 15. . . . . . . . . . . . 600
13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 164, 290
14. . . . . . * - a tº e º e º ºs º º 121
15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 177, 600
16, 23. . . . . º e e º 'º e e a e 183
17. . . . . & e º º ſº e 74, 536, 602
• 18. . . . . . . . ... 243, 322, 409
iii. 22. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78. 190
i, 26. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 599
ii. 26, 27....... tº gº º & tº º . 597
i. 28. . . . . . . . . . 342, 510, 687
28, 30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68
iii. 29.... 69, 70, 117, 175, 213
tº e º te º ºs º º e & 283, 316, 683
37, 39. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 513
39. . . . . . ... ... 242, 513
IX. . . . . * * * * s e e º e º e . . . . . . 588
iº. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213
ix. 19, 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70
ix. 20. . . . . . . . . . . tº e º 'º º tº . 147
ix. 25
CH. WER. PAGE.
x. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 500
xi. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 358
xi. 26. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 216
xi. 29. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 455
xi. 33. . . . . . . . . . ge tº e º 'º e 113, 147
xi. 36. . . . . . . . . . . 168, 312, 695
xii. 1. . . . . . . 139, 161, 192,624
xii. 2. . . . . . . 171, 225, 240, 288
xii. 3. . . . . tº e º e º e . . . . . . . . 404
xii. 3-12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 404
xii. 4. . . . . . . . . . . © e º º º º ... 212
xii. 4–8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 406
xii. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . e is e s e º 'º 174
xii. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116, 407
xii. 10. . . . . . . . . . e - © tº e º 'º º 335
xii. 10, 11. . . . . . . . . . ... . . 408
xii. 12. . . . . tº g º e º e º a . . . . . 409
xii. 19. . . . . . we gº tº e º ſº e º sº tº gº tº 217
xii. 21. . . . . . . * * g g g g º º sº tº º 634
xiii. 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 170
xiii. 4. . . . . . tº ſº tº e º 'º e º 'º & © . 633
xiii. 5–8... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 484
xiii. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116
xiii. 9, 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 561
xiii. 10. . . . . tº e º 'º e º 'º $ tº 304, 562
xiii. 11–14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 519
xiii. 11, 14. . . . . . . . . . 458
xiii. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163,284
xiv. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 152, 605
xv. 1. . . . . . . . . . . * & e º ºs º º . 212
XV. 5. . . . . tº e º e s e a e a tº e e º 'º 351
xvi. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 617
I. CoRINTHIANs.
i. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73
i. 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73, 116
i. 18. . . . . . . . * @ e s tº e º º ºs e e 125
i. 18, 30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 152
i. 24, 30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 443
i. 25. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 530
i. 26. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136, 203
i. 26, 28. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68
i. 27. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181
i. 30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115, 535
11. - - - - - - * * * * * * * * * * * * e º e . 442
ii. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 591
ii. 2. . . . . 112, 125, 192,477, 539
ii. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 227
ii. 11. . . . . . . . . * a e e s a . . . . 95
ii. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70
ii. 14. . . . . . . . tº dº e is e º e e º e . 133
iii. 6... . . . . . . . & e e º e s e e 63, 500
iii. 12. . . . . . . tº º e º sº tº gº e g º ºs 161
iii. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 442
iv. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 577
iv. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . 127, 136, 168
iv. 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 309, 406
iv. 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158
iv. 15. . . . . . . & us e º e º e . . . . 75
iv. 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161
vi. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158
vi. 19............ 135, 232, 706
vi. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * 4
vii. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 184
vii. 29–31. . . . . . . . . . . . ... 202
vii. 30. . . . . . . . . e e º 'º e G 150,636
vii. 31. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 303, 345
IX. . . . . . . . . - - - - - - - - - - - - - 204
ix. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 579
ix. 22. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 578, 581
* * * * * * * tº e º e e º e º e º ºs 157 ſix. 25. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103
INDEX.
777
CH. VER. PAGE
ix. 27. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99
x. 13. . . . . . . . . . . . .... 256,348
x. 22. * * * e º 'º e e s e e s e º e 625
X. 31. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 291
xi. 1. . . . . . e e º e e º e o e e 187,238
xi. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 108
xi. 28. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 704
xi. 29. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 580
xi. 30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 278
xi. 31. . . . . tº e º e e s e e º e e o e 276
xi. 32. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84, 544
xii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 591
xii. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 591
xii. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 224
xii. 14–17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 212
xii. 15, 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 310
xii. 23. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 208
xii. 26. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 212
xiii..... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 90
xiii. 1–3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 214
xiii. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 132
xiii. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156
xiii. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 211
xiii. 9-12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126
xiii. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 689, 693
xiv. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125, 126
xv. 19.- . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 656
xv. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 180
xv. 24–28. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 606
xv. 45. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190
xv. 54. . . . . © e e s e e e º e º e s tº 79
xv. 56. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 180, 613
xv. 58. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 235
II. CoRINTHIANs.
i. 4–6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 421
i. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 243
i. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 377
i. 16. . . . . tº º e º e º e tº © e o e º e 149
i. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 582
i. 24. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 210
ii. 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 331
iii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149,460
iii. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 305
iii. 18....... 131, 254, 277, 522
iv. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 159
iv. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 461
iv. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153,460
iv. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156
iv. 6. . . . . . . . 131, 152, 154, 684
iv. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 186
iv. 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 120
iv. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 352
iv. 17, 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 498
iv. 18. . . . . . . . . tº gº tº e º & B 89, 427
v. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79
V. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 574
v. 9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175, 574
v. 10, 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110
v. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 177, 574
v. 11, 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 574
v. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 680
v. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 333, 574
v. 14, 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161
v. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75,287
V. 19. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 584
v. 20...... . . . . . . . 64,484, 574
V. 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191, 575
vi. 8. . . . . . . . . . ... . . . . . . . 101
vi. 14. . . . . © tº e º e e º e C 224, 279
vi. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 687
CH. VE PAGE.
vii. 1. . . . . . . 117, 226, 444, 503
vii. 9. . . . . * * * * * e e e s e e e e e 706
vii. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 445
viii. 9. . . . . . . . º e º O e º 'º e ... 434
viii. 23. . . . . * * * e e s tº e e º sº a 463
X. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 504
x. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67, 146, 506
xi. 14. . . . . © e. e. e. e. e. tº e º e º is e e 126
xi. 29. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 212
xii. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . • e a e º e 658
xii. 7 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 351
xii. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 312, 360
xii. 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 471
GALATIANs.
ii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ...... 64
ii. 9, 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64
ii. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197,284
iii. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . 89, 118, 330
iii. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 386
iii. 13. ........ . . . 190, 521, 680
iv. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . 118, 340, 600
iv. 19. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
iv. 28. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • 148
iv. 29. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 319
V. 1. . . . . . . . . . & © tº e º e e º e . 112
v. 6- . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 214
v. 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116
v. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 522
v. 22. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 634
vi. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 212, 307
vi. 2..... e e o e e s e e e e s e º 'º 730
vi. 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 221, 244
vi. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175
vi. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . 96, 196, 243
EPHESIANs.
i. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76,218,603
i. 4. . . . . . . . . © e a e s e s a e e , 591
i. 6, 7, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133
i. 6, 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 155
i. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117, 304
i. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 669, 677
i. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 627
i. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80, 197
i. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
i. 19. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 142
i. 20, 21... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 587
ii. . . . . * e º e s e e e s º & e º e e 88, 261
ii. 1. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158
ii. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106
ii. 2, 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 682
ii. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 96
ii. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 152
ii. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141
ii. 14, 16, 18. . . . . . . . . . . ... 518
ii. 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66, 261
ii. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 267
ii. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 599
ii. 20, 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 135
ii. 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136
iii. 3. . . . . . . . . tº sº e & E - © tº dº & 193
iii. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149
iii. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 309, 576
iii. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157, 161
iii. 19. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 478
iv. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . , 116
iv. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 99
iv. 11, 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 576
iv. 13. . . . . . . & e º e e º º e Q © 77
iv. 14. . . . . . . . . . . © & © e º ſº e 125
CH. VER. PAGE.
iv. 15.... . . . . . . . . . . 639
iv. 16. . . . . . . . . . . 117, 135, 137
iv. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 111
iv. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . * @ e º e e 563
iv. 18, 19. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 152
iv. 22. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 126
iv. 24. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 631
iv. 26. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 361
iv. 29. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 223, 635
iv. 30. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71, 538
iv. 31. . . . . . . . . * * * e a s e a e 162
iv. 32. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 134
V. 1, 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 239
V. 3-12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 634
v. 8. . . . . 120, 154, 462, 687, 693
V. 11 . . . . . . . . 106, 111, 154, 224
V. 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 461
W. 14 * - © tº c e s - e. e. e. e º e - - - - 0. 456
V. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 172
V. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 102
v. 22. . . . . . . . . . . . . © e e º e e 202
v. 25, 26. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197
V. 26. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 591
v. 30. . . . . . . . o e e º e º e º e º 'º 96
v. 32. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213
vi. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 631
vi. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181, 182
vi. 9- . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 180
vi. 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 346
vi. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 596
PHILIPPIANs.
i. 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 349
i. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156,607
i. 23. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 90, 260
i, 27. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 168
i, 29. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95, 321
ii. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 211
ii. 7, 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 281
ii. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 503
ii. 12, 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 108
ii. 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 344
ii. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 329, 333
ii. 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 354
iii. 7, 8. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89,480
iii. 8. . . . . . . . . . . . 147, 471, 482
iii. 10. . . . . . . 112, 197, 534, 587
iii. 11, 12. . . . . . . . e e º e º e e 504
iii. 12, 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 227
iii. 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 506, 736
iii. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 226
iii. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 211
iii. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 482
iii. 19. . . . . . . . . . . 163, 534, 611
iii. 21. . . . . º e º e º e º e o e < e e 593
iv. 5. . . . . 0 e º e º º e º e e º e º e º 612
iv. 6. . . . . . . . .342, 348, 596
iv. 6, 7... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 342
iv. 7. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133
CoLossIANS.
I 10 a c e º e º e º e º ſº tº * * * c e e a e 705
i. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153,593
i. 13. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 152, 154
i. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 383
i. 18. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 587, 593
i. 19. . . . . . . . . . . . . & G - e º 'º e 351
i. 27. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76, 250
ii. 3. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 538, 680
ii. 3–9. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 707
ii, 6. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 254
CH. VER PAGE. I CH. VER PAGE. | CR. VER PAgre
ii• 7 • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 161 HEBREws JAMES.
ii. 9. • • • • • • • • • • • ........ 234 I i...... • • • • • • • • • e • • • • • • • 536 I i. 1. • • • • • ......... ..... 64
ii. 18 e © • . •. • • • • 626 I i. 2, 14. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 1 | i. 2...... & • e • • ® • • • • e . 82, 441
iii. 1 • • • • • • • • • ....... 282, 588 | i. 3...... 76, 105, 118, 142, 585 | i. 3.................... 6
iii. 1, 2. • • • • • ........... 96 I i. 10...... • • • • • • • • • • • • • • i. 5. • • • • • • • • • • • • 204, 524, 595
iii. 3. ... 242, 296, 317, 469, 589 | ii. 9................. 383, 682 | i. 6. ................... 346
iii. 3, 4......... e • e • • • 96, 589 | ii. 10......... . . . 185, 421, 683 | i. 8. .... o • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 103
iii. 4..... ............... 470 ] ii. 10, 11..... • • • • • • • • • • • 537 1 i. 13................... 441
iii. 5. ............... 196, 287 | ii. 11................ 213, 258 | i. 14........... o • • • • • • • 615
iii. 14..... • • • • • • • • • • . 116, 306 | ii. 11, 16....... • • • • • • • • • 191 | i. 14, 15................ 642
iii. 24. . . . . o • • • • e • • e • • e • • 183 | ii. 16................ 100, 281 | i. 17. ................... 153
iv. 6. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 400 l iii. 2........... • • e • • • • • • 113 | i. 18..... 75, 113, 122, 684, 685
iii. 5. ......... · · · · · · · · · 621 1 i. 20.................... 492
I. THESSALONIANs. iv. 2........ • • • • • � • • • • • 127 | i. 21. ....... 121, 124, 128, 312
1v. 1. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 172 | iv. 12. ................. 123 | i. 26, 27. ............... 441
iv. 6. ........ • • • • • • • • • • 637 | iv. 15................ 257, 421 | i. 27................... 427
iv. 7..106, 184, 205, 521, 622, 636 | iv. 15, 16....... • ' • • • • • • • • 213 | ii............. . . . . . . . . . 622
iv. 17. .... '• • • • • • • • • • • • • 303 I v. 2-8................ • • 421 | ii. 10. • • • • • • ........... . 563
v. 5. • • • • • ....... 521, 687, 693 | v. 12. . . . . . ............. 125 | ii. 14......... • • • • • • • • • e 214
V. 7. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 520 I v. 14. ............... 456, 584 | iii. 2. ... 186, 306, 388, 400, 701
v. 17..... © • • • • * • • • • • • 300, 649 ] vi. 4................... 133 | iii. 5. ............... 211, 219
v. 23. • • • • • • • . . . . . . . . . . . 226 ] vi. 10. ... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 214 | iii. 6. ... ........ 126, 219, 491
vi, 19. • • • • • • • . . . . . ..... 250 | iii. 15. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 441, 442
II. THESSALONIANs. vii. 12. ................. 138 | iii. 17. • • • • • ..... • • • • . 362, 441
i. 7. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 590 | vii. 25. . . . . . . . . . . 144, 188, 588 | iii. 18......... e» • • • • • • • • 226
i. 8. .................... 443 | vii. 26. . . . . ...... 261, 461, 477 | iv. 1............... . . . . 165
i. 9. ... • • • • • • •.......... 230 | viii. 10..... «• • • • • e e e • • e e. • 562 | iv. 8. .................. 642
i. 10. . . . . . . . • *• e • • • • • • • 81, 317 | ix. . . . . . . . . . . • • • • . . . . ... 275 | iv. 14. ......... . . . , • • • • • 122
ii. 12................ 227, 609 | ix. 12................ 149, 192 | v. 16..... «• • • • • • • • • • • • • • 228
ix. 12—14. .............. 66 I v. 17. . . . . .......... 238, 373
I. TIMOTHY. ix. 13, 14. ............... 581
1. 2. • • • . . . · · · · · · · · · · · · · • 471 | ix. 14. ....... 67, 254, 259, 263 I. PETER
i. 17. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 699 | ix. 22. . . . . . . . . • • • • • • • • . 66 I i. 1. • • • • • • • .. ..... ..... 63
ii. 19. • • • • • • • • .......... 209 l x. 5. • • • • • • • • .......... . 189 I i. 2. • • • • •.. • • • • • ..... 66, 181
iii. 2. • • • • • • • • • • • • • . . . . . 444 l x. 7.... . . . . . * • • • • • • e • • • 575 l i. 3. • • • • • • .... . 277, 355, 587
iii. 4. ... , . . . • • •..... · · · · 323 l x. 9. .. • • • • • • • • e e • • • • • • e 188 | i. 3, 4. • • • • • • • • • • • • • .... 4
iii. 9........... • • • • • 129, 581 | x. 12, 14..... e • • • • • • • • ». 114 | i. 5................... 79, 328
iii. 9, 16. ... . � s • • • s e • • • • 161 l x. 20. .. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · • . 594 | i. 6. .............. • • • • . 82
iii. 10. .... • • • • • • • • • • • • • 581 | x. 21, 22. .... � • • • • • • • • • • 149 I i. 7.................... 85
iii. 16. ............. 89, 99, 114 | x. 22................... 117 | i. 8, 9.................. 87
iv. 2. . . . . • • • • • • • • • e • • • • • 253 l x. 24. .................. 238 | i. 10—12. ... ... . . . . . . . . 94
iv. 8................ 227, 610 | x. 31................ ... 177 I i. 13. . . . . . • • • • • • ••. • • • • • 100}
iv. 12. • • • ............ 329, 334 | x. 34. .... o • • • • • • • • • • 249, 409 | i. 13, 22. ............ 161, 393
iv. 13. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · 97 l xi. 1.............. e e • • • 9 | i. 14—16. .... e • • • • • • • • • • 104
V. 8. ............... • • • • 636 | xi. 3........... • 113, 582, 670 | i. 15. ... • • • • • • ........ 605
vi. 6. ........ • • • • • • • • • • 612 | xi. 6........ 396, 515, 582, 676 | i. 17.................... 107
vi. 8, 9....... • • • • • . . . . . 611 1 xi. 7................... 270 | i. 18, 19........ . � • • • • • e 110
vi. 9............ 247, 340, 612 | xi. 7, 8, 19..... «• e • • • • • • • 271 | i. 20. .................. 113
vi. 9, 10................ 198 | xi. 13. ........... *-' • • • • • 397 | i. 21. ................... 115
vi. 16. ...... «* • • • • • • . 618, 699 | xi. 19...... ........... 583 I i. 22. • • • • • .............. 1 15
vi. 17. .............. ... . 871 xi. 21........... €• • • • • • • 109 l i. 23........... . 118, 500, 685
xi. 26. ....... .... 294, 317, 320 | i. 24. .......... o €• • • • • • • 1
II. TIMOTHY. xi. 27. • • •........ • • • • . 89, 476 | i. 25............... . 123, 132
i. 10. • • • • • • • • • • •........ 95 | xi. 35................... 286 | ii. 1......... • • • • • • *• e • • *• 295
i. 12 e • © © • . . 328 | xi. 36. .... ύ • • • • • • • • • • 313, 388 | ii. 1, 2.................. 124
ii. 3. · · · · · · · · · · · ........ 257 | xii. 1, 2.............. 256, 507 | ii. 3. ................... 131
ii. 4. • • • • • • • • • • • • ....... 346 | xii. 2..... 96, 187, 225, 281, 293 | ii. 4, 5. ................ . 134
ii. 12. • • • • • • • ........ 186, 341 | ................ 349, 580 | ii. 6............. 140, 431, 573
iii. 2...... • • • • • • 152, 308, 561 | xii. 2, 3......... ..... 257, 319 | ii. 7, 8...... • e • • • • • • • • • . 145
iii. 12.. • • • • • • • • • 184, 241, 256 | xii. 5............. o- • • • • • 83 I ii. 8. • • • • • .............. 350
iv. 2..... • • • e e • • • • • • • • • 307 | xii. 6................... 323 | ii. 9..... 147, 181, 453, 458, 627
iv. 8. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • . 590 l xii. 9............ 600, 601, 631 | ii. 10. .... • • • • • • • • • • e • • • 157
xii. 11. . . . . • • • • • • • 83, 317, 544 | ii. 11............... • 160, 522
TITUS. xii. 28........ . .. 219, 290, 379 | ii. 12. ........ • • • • • • • • • • 164
i. 15. • • • • • •• • • • • • • • • • • • • 253 | xii. 28, 29.......... ..... 177 | ii. 13, 14..... • • • • • • • • • . 169
ii. 11, 12. . . . . © • • • ® • • • • • • 159 | xii. 29......... ......... 484 | ii. 15, 16. ... . . • • • • • • • • . 171
ii. 14.. •. • • • • • e • • • • • • 112, 193 | xiii. 4............. ..... 634 | ii. 17. . . . . . • • • • • 0 «• • • • • • e 173
iii. 1........ � © • • • • • • • • • 170 l xiii. 8............. ..... 97 | ii. 18—20. ...... . • • • • • ... 178
iii. 3..... •...• • • • • • • • • 162 | xiii. 15, 16......... .. 138, 140 | ii. 20. ... . . . . . e • • • • e • e • e 144
iii. 5. • • • • • • • • • • • *• • • • • • • 75 xiii. 16. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 139 ii. 21-23. . . • • • • • • • *• • • • • • 183
• * * * * * * * * * * * * * * c e s e I OO ... We O e s e e s e e s e e s e e e s e e e s e
* * * e s a e s s e e º 'º e e s e e o e
e e e º e º 'º - G - e º e º e º -
e e º 'º e º e º 'º e º 'º e º e º 'º e e
e e s a e e º e º e º e s & e e º e e e
• e º ºs e º e º ºs e º 'º e s -
* * * * * e º e º e º e º e º 'o e e s e
e e e s e º e º e s e e º e e º e º zºº J . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * is e
e e º e º e o e º e º 'º e e s tº e º Aºyº tº J. A.J. º ºx e e s e º 'o º e º e º ºs e e º º
e a e e º a c e º e s e e s e e e e
* e º e º e º e º e º e º e e
s e º e º 'º - © & © tº e º º
e e º e s e º e e e o e º e º e º e ºvºvº A 6 º' º ºſ tº e º 'º º e º e º ºs e e º 'º e e e e
• * * * * * c e s e s e º e º e s e º e º a tº - . * tº iſ a V & © e º e º e º e º ºs e º a
* * * * * * * * e º e º e e e s e e º zºº ºf . A tº Vº º e & e º 'º e º e º e º e º 'º e º 'º &
* * * * c e s e º e s e e s e º e o 'º
• * * * * * * * g e º e s tº 9 e e
• e º ºs e e º e º ºs e e e º 0 e º zºº WWJ A. M. º. º. º º e º t e º 'º º º & © tº e e º e o e e
º e º 'º e º 'º tº e º ſº e º 'º e º 'º
• * * * * * * * * * e e s e s e e º e ºf Jºt i Mi º Aº Vº tº e º e º e e e e s e e º e º e e
• * * * e s e e s e e s e e s s e e ºs
& & & © e º 'º e o e º ºs e º º e e º º
• * * * * * * c e s a e e e s e º Vºx I ill e J. & Mº i is e º e s e s a e º e º 'º e e e
e e o e s e e e º e e º e º e o e
• a te e s s e º ºs e º e o e s &
e e s e e s tº e s e e s e e º 'º - L & V . . . e º iſ e e s e e s e e º sº e º e º 'º e
• * * * * & e º e e º e e s e e º º
a s e e º e º e º e e º e º a
e e º e º e º e º & e º 'o - - e.
... 104, 249, 251,443, 521
3
• * * * * * * e s e e s e a a U.4 eV ( I.I. i.e. “º e e º e e º e e e s e º e º e º 6 e &
• * > 0 tº e º e º 'º e º e e º e
• e º e s e e s e º e s e a e e e º ºx ºf i i li e i = < e < e e s e e e s e e s e e e
* * * * * * * * * * * * * e e s e e
e e º gº º e e º e e º 'º e º 'º & ©
* * * * * * e s e s e e s e
* * * * * * * * * * * * * e e s e e º U. l I We "dº e s e º e o e º e s a e e º e o e s s
... ió8, 177,301,480,513
iv. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 562
779
. CH. VER. PAGE.
v. 3. . . . . * c > * tº e e º ºs e º e 622, 634
v. 4. . . . . . . . . 81, 161,293, 347
V. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . ę & © e º e e 697
v. 19. . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . 456
JUDE.
6. . . . . . tº e º e º e º º e º ºs . . . . . 632
22. . . . . e e s tº e e • . . . . . . . . . 578
REVELATION.
i. 5. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76, 149
i. 5, 6- . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148
l- 0 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - tº e 137
i. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . © & e e s tº e 631
ii. 17. . . . . . . . . © e º e º a c e º tº 133
iii. 17. . . . . . . . . * * * * s e a e e 198
iii. 19. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 323
iii. 21. . . . . . . . . . . © e º e ºs e e 476
1W. . . * * * © e e e s e e e e s a e ..... 618
iv. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 672
v. 8. . . . . . . . . . © e º 'º e e e º e e 138
vii. 14. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263, 318
vii. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 475
viii. 3, 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 140
xi. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . tº e . 314
Xll - - - & © tº sº º tº 9 * * * * * * 453, 57.1
xii. 11. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 347
xiii. 8. . . . . . . . 2 e º e º e e s e s 114
xiv. 3, 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 481
xiv. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263
xiv. 13. . . . . . . . . . . © º ºs e º º 284
xv. 3. . . . . tº e º e º e º 'º - e. e. e. e. e. 605
xvii. 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 453
xviii. 2. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105
xviii. 7..... tº º e º e º 'º e º 'º e - 455
xviii. 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 324
xix. 10. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 281
xix. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 224
xx. 6- . . . . . . . . . . . ... 125, 587
xx. 12. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 253
xxi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85, 501
xxi. 15. . . . . . . . . . © e º e C & . 251
xxi. 16. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 159
xxi. 17. . . . . . . . • Q & © e ºr e º e e 249
xxi. 23. . . . . . . . . . . . 72, 95, 153
xxii. 12. . . . . . . . . • * * tº e e e a
xxii. 15. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 591
xxii. 17. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101
xxii. 17, 20. . . . . . . . . . 413
xxii. 20. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 607
IND E X 0 F
S U B.J E (; T S.
ABEN Ezra. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 366
Abhorrence of Evil. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 407
Ability for Preaching. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 312
Ability of Christ’s Preaching............ . 266
Ability of God....... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 328
Abimelech. . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 486
Abraham. . . . . . . . . . . • * e s e e e º e º ºs e e a ... . . 68, 98
Abstinence from Lusts. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 165
Abuse of Scripture. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 422
Acceptance of Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232
Access to God in Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 229
Acknowledgment of God.... . . . . . . . ... .. 532
Action according to Divine Providence..... 524
Activity of Christ’s Preaching........... , 260
Activity of Obedience to God..... . . . . . . . . 508
Admission to the Lord’s Supper. . . . . . . . . . . 644
Adoption. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 74, 682
Adrian. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 464
Adultery. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 489
Adversary, the . . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . . .345
Affection for Good. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 407
Affections, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 290
AFFLICTION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . . . . . . . . . 446
66 Cause of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 565
6& Design of God in . . . . . . . . . . ... 564
º Efficacy of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 568
66 End of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 564, 567
& & Exercise in. . . . . . . tº e º e º ºs e º e º º 569
&G not fruitful. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 510
6 & of God’s People. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 548
{{ Way of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . • e º s e e 566
Afflictions. . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e e º ſº ºn e º e . 86,347, 446
Agreement of Evangelists and Prophets... 411
Aikman’s Life of Leighton. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 739
Akal Kartza. . . . . . . e gº tº e º 'º * * * * * e s e s a e - e o 167
Alacrity of Obedience to God.......... . . . 508
Alexander. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 507
Alms. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 427
Ambassadors of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 574
Ambition in Preaching. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .333
Ambrose. . . . . . . . . . e e e º e º a s e a e e º e s s • - - - - 416
Amen. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 619
“Amor Sceleratus habendi”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 638
Anecdotes of Leighton. . . . . . . . . . . 10, 39, 40, 46
Angels. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. . . . . . 385
Angels looking into the Mystery of Godliness 99
Anger. . . . . . . . . . . . e tº e º e º e º e º a & e º 'º e º e 424,633
Anger of God. . . . . . . © e º e º ºs e e º e s e e º a º ... 543
& 6 “ averting of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 544
Anger of the Lord. . . . . © º e º g tº . . . . . . . . . . . 237
“Animalia gloriae”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 437, 883
Answer of a good Conscience. . . . . . . . . . . . . 275
Answers to Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 234
Antediluvians.... . . . . . . . . . . . ... . . . . . . . . . 303
Anthony, the Hermit..... © e e e º 'º e º e * < e - G - 365
Arokapadoxia. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 573
&
PAGE.
Apologies of Christians. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 248
Apostles, Eye-Witnesses of Christ........ 329
Apostles without Successors..... tº e º e e º e º º 575
Appearance of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87
Appearance of the Chief Shepherd. . . . . . . . 334
Appendix. . . . . . . . . & e s e º e e e s a e s 6 . . . . . . . . 739
Appetite of Children. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 106
Application of Redemption. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 114
Apprehension of Evil. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 533
“Arcana imperii”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 620
“Arcanum imperii”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 439
Archimedes, death of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122
Arising from Sleep. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 456
Aristotle . . . . . . . e e º 'º e º 'º e º e e e º e o 'º e e s e o e º º 293
Ark of God. . . . . . . . . . * * * * a s e e a e e a e . . . . . 452
Ark, the . . . . . tº e º e º e © e º e º a e º e º e e ... . . . . . 270
“ appointed by God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 270
Arming of a Christian. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 284
Ascension of Christ. . . . . . . . tº e º 'º - e. ... . . 280, 587
Assertory Act of Scotland. . . . . . . . & © e º e e º e 26
Assistance of the Holy Spirit. . . . . . . . . . . . . 233
Athanasius. . . . . . . . . . . e tº e º a se e e s e . . . . . . . 378
Atheism. . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * d e e º e º e º 'º dº e . . 427
“ interpretative. . . . . . . . . . . . e = < e < * . 624
“ practical. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 624
Athenagoras. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 362
Athens, the Miser of....... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 320
Attainment of an enlarged Heart. . . . . . . . . . 509
Attainment of Purity of Life. . . . . . . . . . . . . 703
Attributes of God. . . . . . . . . . . . tº a e º e º 'º e º 'º º 698
Avrapketa . . . . . . . . . © e > * * * * > º, e º e e º a º ... .. 642
Augustin. . . . . . . . . e a e º e º 'º 19, 94, 268, 411, 522
Authority, church . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 486
66 civil. . . . . . . tº º e º e º e º 'º & © e e º e Q . . 485
6& of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 280
Averting of the Divine Anger. . . . . . . . . . ... 544
Avoiding of too much Sleep. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 700
Avoiding of unholy Persons. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 440
Awaking sounded. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 519
Awe of God. . . . . . . . . . . . © º sº e g º º e º º . . . . . 361
B.
Babbling in Prayer. . . . . tº e e º e º e º O e º sº e ... 428
Babes, newborn. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126
Babylon, mystical. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 324
Bad Ground for the Word. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 501
Balaam. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 460
“ Prophecy of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 414
Baptism....... © e º e º 'º e e º 'º - * e e o e º e e º e s e . 644
“ and Preaching....... . . . . . . . . . ... 417
“ Efficacy of.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 273
“ End of.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 272
“ of Christ..... e e o e o e º 'º e º 'º' . . . . . . . 420
“ of Fire.... . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * e e s a 687
“ of the Holy Ghost and Fire. . . . . . . 420
“ renouncing of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 278
“ resemblance of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 277
782 INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
e PAGE.
Baptismal Vows........................ 732
Barah Elohim.......................... 381
Baseness of Men............... . . . . . . . . 436
Baxter....... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 723
Bearing Fruit for Christ.......... . . . . . . . 556
Beatific Vision of God... . . . . . . * e e o e s e e a e 659
Bedell, Life of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46
Beginning of spiritual Life........... . . . . 130
Beginnings of Grace. . . . . . . . * @ e º e º a º . . . . 125
Being of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 660
Belief in Divine Providence........ . . . . . . .342
Belief of the Promises. . . . . . . . * * * * * * * e a e e 133
BELIEVER, a Hero. . . . . * * * * * * * e e s e e s a • e e 495
G& blessed. . . . . . . . . . • * * * * * * e e s e e e 498
“ Faith of the................... 245
&&. Fear of the... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 245
6& Fears the Lord. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 498
66 Life of the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 536
BELIEVERs. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 145, 147, 150
& Anointing of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149
£6 Blemishes of.................. 166
G& Blots of... . . . . . . * * s • e º 'º e o e e s e 167
66 Calling of..... * e º e º e s a e e e e . . ... 151
66 Consecration of................ 149
© & Garments of.................. 150
& Life of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150
6& Offerings of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150
66 Sacrifice of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149
&&. Services of..... © a s e º & © e a e e e e e . 150
*6 Spots of... . . . . . . . . . tº e º p → e º 'º - e. 167
&&. Union of with Christ. . . . . . . . . . . 191
& 6 Washing of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149
Believing Heart................. e e º s º º . 232
Bernard. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 252, 376
Bethlehem Ephratah............... . . . . . . 414
Bethlehem Judah...... * * e s e e a e e s a e e a e s a 414
Bethlehem, Star of..................... . 413
Bible, Harmony of.................. . . . . 411
Birth of Christ............ º e º e º e 412,415, 584
Blameless Way of a Christian............ 240
Blemishes of Believers........... . . . . . . . . 166
Blessedness of the Saints................. 70
Blessing of a Christian.............. . . . . 218
Blessings of Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232
Blots of Believers..... e e º e º e s a g º e º O e º 'º e - 167
Body, Resurrection of the................ 593
BovXtuta * e º e º sº e º a tº e e º e º e º e º e º e º ºs e º e º & © . 638
Bounty of God................... tº e º e º e 700
Bread daily, Prayer for..... e e s e e o e º e s e e e 610
Brevity of Life........................ . 389
Brevity of Prayer....... e e e s tº e e º e º e º e º º . 597
Bridle of Speech.................. tº e º e º e 222
Broken Heart........ e e s tº e º e º e e - © tº e º e ºs . 229
Brotherhood, Love of the................ 175
Brotherly Love...................... 115,408
66 “ Qualifications of........... 116
Brutishness of Men..... & e º 'º e º sº e º e º 'º . . . . 436
Burden of Sin.................... . . . . . . 198
Burial of Jesus......................... 585
Burnet, Archbishop...... ......... . . . . . . 28
Burnet, Gilbert. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 28, 46
“ Character of Leighton, by........ 46, 47
“ Garlands of, for Leighton..... ... 46, 47
“ History of his own Times, by..... 47
“ Life of Bedell, by............. ... 46
“ Pastoral Care, by . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 47
Business, Diligence in . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 408
Business of Christ on Earth. . . . . . . . . . . . ... 426
C.
Caesar. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 290
PAGE.
Calamities interpreted. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 554
Calamity and Sin.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 518
Call of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 440
Call of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 414, 417
Calling by God...... e e º e º e º 'º tº e e s e a e e º e . 351
Calling effectual . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66
Calling of Believers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151
Calmness of Mind. . . . . & e e º e º e º & º ºs e º e º tº . 185
Calumny. . . . . . . tº e s e e º e e . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 639
Candidates, Exhortations to. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 708
Candle of the Ungodly. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 464
“Canina Fames”. . . . . . . . . tº e º e º e º a º, e º 'º - e. 638
Cares. . . . . . . . tº tº e s a e º 'º e e e i e o & © e s e tº e º 'º e º 'º 340
Carnal Friends. . . . . . . . . . . q Q e º e º e e s s e e e e 415
Carnal Mind. . . . . . . . . . . tº e e e º e º 'º e º e º e º e e 482
Carnal Security. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 513
Catechism, a short. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 643
Cause of Affliction. . . . . . . * * c e º ºs e º º ºr e º 'º e e 565
Cause of Christ’s Sufferings. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 259
Celibacy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * 202
Centurion, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 432
&&. Faith of . . . . . . * * - © e g º e s e º e º e . 432
66 Prayers of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 432
Cessation from Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 284
Chains of Sin. . . . . . . . . . • - - - - - - - - - - - - - - . 285
Chambering. . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º e º 'º e g º º . . . 520
Chambers of Death. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 293
Change from Death to Life. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 194
&G “ Solidity of the..... • . . . . . . . . 194
£6 “ Universality of the.......... 194
Character of a Christian........ Q & tº e º 'º e º e 218
Character of Ministers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 577
Character of the Daughters of Sarah....... 207
Character of the Scriptures. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 696
Character of the Ungodly. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 545
Character of those who love Christ. . . . . . . . 479
Characters of Christ's Temptation......... 422
Characters of Love—
66 Goodness in the Object.... . . . . 476
&&. Knowledge of that Goodness.... 476
&G Suitableness of the Object to the
Lover. . . . . . . . . . . & e º e º e º e º - 476
Characters of the Royalty of Christ. . . . . . . 417
Charges to the Clergy. . . . . . . .726–728, 730, 732
Charity. . . . . . . . . © e s e º e a e º e º e e s e e e s - e º 'º - 441
“ Works of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138
CHARLEs II.-
6& Accession of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
66 Attempt by, to force Prelacy
upon Scotland. . . . . . . . . . . . 13
&&. Letter of, to Leighton. . . . . . . . 45
Chastisement. . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. º 7
Chastity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103, 634
“ Rules for. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 635
Cheerful Purpose. . . . . . . . . . • ‘º e º e º 'º e e e s e tº . 532
Cheerfulness in the Way of God. . . . . . . . . . 508
CHILDREN–
66 Appetite of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126
66 Innocency of... . . . . . . © tº gº e e º º º . 126
{& of Disobedience . . . . . . . & e º 'º º G & 146 .
G& of Folly..... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 537
66 of God, Privileges of... . . . . . . . . 342
&G of Wisdom. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 537
Choice of Society. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 222
Chosen Generation..... e e º e o e s & © a tº e s e 148,453
CHRIST-
“ Agreement of, with John the Baptist 417
* Ambassadors of...... . . . . . . . . . . . . 574
“ Appearance of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87
“ Ark, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 272
“ Ascension of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 280
INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
783
CHRIST
&&.
{{
&
PAGE.
• Authority of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 280
Baptism of... . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º º sº tº . 420
Bearing of Sin by . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190
Beauty of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 460
Birth of. . . . . . . tº e º e s e e º ºs e º 'º . . . . . 412
Bishop. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 201
Business of, on Earth. . . . . . . . . . . . . 426
Call of... . . tº e e º e e e e e º e º e º e º & . . . 440
Calling of Matthew by......... . . . 438
Chief Shepherd....... tº e º Gº tº e º 'º - a - 329
Church of..... tº e s e e e s tº e º e º 'º e e a º 328
Coming of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 456
Conformity to. . . . . . . . . . e e e s tº e o e a 283
Corner-Stone, the . . . . . . . © e ºs e g º e º ºs 140
Cure of Diseases by..... tº e º e º ºs e e . 424
Death of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263
Desire of Nations. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 412
Disciples of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 643
Disciples of, called. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 424
Diseases cured by....... e e s e e º e ſe . 424
Doctrine of. . . . . . . . . . . . & e º 'º º º 424, 535
Earthly Condition of . . . . . . . . . . . . . 434
Example of... . . tº g º ºs º e e . . . . . . 185, 257
Excelleney of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 460, 476
Fasting of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 421
Following of. . . . . . . . . . . . . 434, 439, 643
Foundation-Stone. . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . 140
Genealogy of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 411
Glorifying of... . . tº e s tº e s e e a c e º e . . 243
Glory of . . . . . . . tº e º e º 'º e e º e º e º 'º e 96, 282
“ revealed. . . . . . . . . . º e º e º 'o e º g 316
Glory of the Lord. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 460
Goodness of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . , 436, 476
Greatness of . . . . . . . . . . . . . o e º e º 'º • 257
Guilelessness of. . . . . . . Q & © tº e º ºr e º e e 186
Harbinger of . . . . . . . . . . . . . & a e s e e & 417
High Priest. . . . . . . © º e º e º e • . . . . . . 282
Holiness of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 477
Homage to . . . . . . . . tº 9 s e º 'º e e a º º . . . 416
Hope of Nations. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 412
Judge of the Quick and the Dead... 294
Knowledge of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113, 461
Lamb of God. . . . . © e º e º e º e º e º e 102, 412
Life, our. . . . . . . . tº º e s e e º 'º e º & . 464, 469
Life with . . . . . . . . . º e º ºs e º e º 'º & © tº . . .317
Light of Believers..... tº º e e º 'º e º e a 152
Light of the Church. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .454
Loveliness of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 476
Love of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 478
{{ inseparable. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 514
Love to . . . . . . . • e e º 'º e º e º e º e e º e 243, 476
Lustre of the Church..... e is e º e e . . 454
Made to be Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 575
Matchless Teacher, the . . . . . . . . . . . 450
Mediator, the . . . . . . . . . & Cº º ſº e º ºs e º º 66
Meekness of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 478
Messiah, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 478
Mind of... . . . e G & e º e º e . . . . . . . . . . 285
Miracles of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 424, 431
Mission of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 440
Name of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 413, 478
Nativity of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 411
Patience of, in Suffering. . . . . . . . . . 186
Persecution of..... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 414
Person of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 535
Physician, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 440
Power of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . * - © e º e s tº . 434
Preaching of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 266, 423
66 Ability in . . . . . . . . . . . . . 266
{{ Activity in... . . . . . . . . . . 266
precious. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147
PAGE.
CHRIST, Presence of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 456, 457
“ Preservation of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 414
“ Prince of Peace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 288, 415
“ Purity of . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e e º ºs e º e . 443
“ quickened by the Spirit. . . . . . . . . . . 264
“ Redemption, our. . . . . . • e º 'º e s e e < e e 540
“ Redemption by....... . . . . . . . . . 113,692
“ Rejection of......... . . . . . . . . . . . . 146
“ Reproach of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 463
“ Resurrection of..... . . . . . . 76, 276, 280
“ Revelation of..... • e e º e s e e a e s a e e 101
“ Righteousness of......458, 511, 538, 540
“ Royalty of... . . . . . e tº e º tº e º e º ºs e º 'º º 417
“ Sanctification, our. . . . . . . . 511, 538, 540
“ Savior. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... ... . . 413, 680
“ Shepherd. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 201
“ sitting of, at the right Hand of God 280
* Spotlessness of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 186
“ Stripes of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © e º 'º e º 'º º 198
“ Sufferings of.......... 96, 185, 188, 256
{& 6& End of the. . . . . . e e e s e º e 193
“ Sun of Righteousness... 88, 413, 457, 461
“ Temptation of . . . . . . . • * * e e º 'º e º & © tº 422
6& 6& Comfort from . . . . . . . . . 422
&&. &&. Instruction from... . . . . 422
“ Truth, the..... © tº e e o e º s e s e s e e º e . 464
* Types of . . . . . . . . . . . . e e a e º e º e e º 'º e 477
“ Union of, with Believers. . . . . . . . . . 191
“ Watchman of Israel. . . . . . . . . . . . . 435
“ Way, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 464
“ Wisdom, our. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 539
“ Witness to. . . . . © e º 'º e e s e e e º e o e º e 413
“ Wonderful, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 413
/ “ Worship of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 413, 416
“ Works of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 431
CHRISTIAN–
<< Blamelessness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 240
66 Building. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 143
$6 Character of a . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 218
{{ Comfort of a. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 420
Ké Constancy. . . . . . . & e º ºs e e º sº e º & 103
{& Course. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 292
& Excellency of. . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 143
&&. Expectation. . . . . e e s is a e º is º ... 100
66 Firmness of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 143
6& Happiness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 240,241
{{ Hope. . . . . . . . . . . e e s e º e . . . . . 75, 92
66 Infancy. . . . . . . . . e e º º a º . . . . . . 125
£6 Inheritance. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 218
{{ Knowledge. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113
$4. Life. . . . . . . . . tº e º º ºs º gº & Cº º º 115, 286
Gé Love. . . . . e e o e º e e s e ... . . . 304, 476
66 “ Effects of. . . . . . . . . . . . ... 306
66 “ to Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 476
66 Obedience. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 404
{{ Patience. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . , 184
€6 Rejoicing. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 316
Ç6 Religion. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 690
{{ “ Excellency of.... . . . . 692
£6 “ Principles of... . . . . . . 650
{{ “ the Way to Happiness 690
66 * Truth of... . . . . . . . . . , 692
$6 Shining of the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 456
66 “ constantly. . . . . . . . . . . . 458
&G * humbly. . . . . . e - e º 'º e º e 458
Gé “ jointly. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 456
66 “ personally. . . . . . . . . . . 456
“ . “ progressively. . . . . . . . . 458
6& “ publicly. . . . . . . . . . . . . 456
{& Spirit. . . . . - * e º & © tº e º e º º . . . . . . 71
6& spiritually-minded, the . . . . . . . . 520
784
INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
PAGE.
CHRISTIAN Suffering............. 184, 240, 319
£6 the-best Subject. . . . . . . . . . . . . 484
66 Triumph. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 509, 512
CHRISTIANS, Adoption of........... . . . . . . . 74
66 Affections of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 290
66 Arming of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 284
&g Brotherly Love of. . . . . . . . . . . . 115
& Calling of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151, 154
6& “ Requirements of...... 184
& Chosen of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148
66 Comfort of... . . . . . . . . ..... 100, 420
£& Composure of... . . . . . . . . . . . . .315
66 Conscience of... . . . . . . . . . . . . 251
&6. Consecration of........ . . . . . . 149
66 contrasted with Unbelievers... 148
& Conversation of........... 167, 251
66 Courtesy of... . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 216
Ç6 Defence of............. . . . . . 248
6& Delight of... . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 89
66 Desire of..... & Q & e º 'º * e s e s e 89, 129
66 Dignities of......... . . . . . 134, 182
6& Dignity of............. . . . . . 536
66 Establishment of........ . . . . . .348
G6 Estate of... . . . . . . . . tº e º e º & ... 148
{{ Expectation of..... & e º e e a e º 'º 101
Ǻ Experience of...... • & & © e º e º e 165
66 Graces of........... . . . . . . . . 405
& Growth of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 130
66 Happiness of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 241
66 Heaviness of..... . . . . . . . . . . . 83
& 66 Shortness of the... 84
Ç6 Hope of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75,248
66 Inequality of... . . . . . . . . . . . ... 253
66 Infancy of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 125
66 Inheritance of... . . . . . . . . . . . 74, 76
&G Joy of. . . . . . . . . • * * * * c e º e º 'º - 82, 91
66 Life of......... e e º e e s e e º e > . 150
£6 Love of........ . . . . . . 89, 214, 476
6% Obedience of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 404
&G Patience of......... © gº e º e º 'º º 184
&G Peace of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • 356
6& Perfection of... . . . . . . . . . . .... 348
&&. Pilgrims. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 163
66 Piety of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 214
€6 Priesthood of......... 134, 148, 149
G& Readiness of....... e & e º 'º e e º 'º 250
6& Rejoicing of............ . . . . . .316
6& Relation of, to God. . . . . . . . . . . 109
{& Relation of, to the World...... 109
&G Service of... . . . . . . . tº e º e º º ... 150
{{ Settlement of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 348
6& Sojourners. . . . . . . . . e e s e º e e º º 110
€6 State of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68
&G “. Cause of it. . . . . . . . . . . . 68
66 “ Source of it. . . . . . . . . . . . 68
66 Strangers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110, 163
& Strengthening of... . . . . . . . . . . 348
6& Sufferings of....... * e e s e e a e e 184
£& Sympathy of........... . . . . . 212
66 Taste of......... tº e º e º e º º e º e 133
•6 Temple, a........ . . . . . . . . . . 134
66 Temptations of... . . . . . . . . . ... 82
Ç6 Treasure of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79
G6 Unanimity of........... . . . . . 210
Chrysostom . . . . . . . . . . . . * 0 & 0 & e º 'º & e e ... 329, 527
CHURCH of CHRIST. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 328, 591
* Anglican, State of........ . . . . . . 12
“ Authority of the... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 485
“ Light of the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 455
* Lustre of the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 242, 455
“ Ministers of the......... 311
PAGE.
CHURCH of CHRIST, Officers in the........ 407
* Shining of the . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . 457
“ Stability of the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 492
Civil Authority. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 485
Civil Governments, Honor to. . . . . . . . . . .... 178
66 Ç6 Obligations of. . . . . . . . . 170
Civil Power, Submission to . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 169
Cleansing of Ourselves. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 503
Cleaving to Good. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 407
Clergy, Charges to the . . . . . • * * g e º e º º . . . . . 726
“ Sermon to the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 574
Comfort for Sinners. . . . . . . * e s e º e o e o 'º e e e . 440
Comfort from Christ’s Temptations. . . . . . . . 422
Comfort of Christians. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100, 420
Coming of Christ. . . . . * * * * * * * s e e e s a e e º e s 456
CoMMANDMENTS OF GOD. . . . . . . . . . 506, 530, 560
66 Breadth of... . . . . . . . . . . . 530
6& Division of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 622
66 Exposition of. . . . . . . . . . . . 619
6% Length of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 530
66 Perfection of........ . . . . . 531
66 Style of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 622
Commentary on the First Epistle of Peter... 63, 67
Committing of the Soul to God. . . . . . . . . . . . 316
Communing with God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 448
CoMMUNIon—
66 Exhortation before the...... 704
&G of Saints. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 591
Ç6 Preparation for . . . . . . . . . . . . . 704
6& with Christ. . . . . . . . * * * * e e º e 92
C & with the Heart. . . . . . . . . . . . . 362
Company of the Saints. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 256
Composure of Christians................ . 315
Concordia Discordia. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 485
Concupiscence, Evil.............. . . . . . . . 640
Condemnation, Release from............. 509
Condition of Christ on Earth..... e a e s e e . . 434
46 of Men, Sad. . . . . . . . . . * - e. e. e. e. e. e. g. 515
&&. &6 “ Cause of......... ... 516
Confession of Guiltiness................. . 613
46 of Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 369
Confidence, humble. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .340
£6 Manner of... . . tº e e º s e e s e º e º e e 469
6% Object of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 467
66 of David. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 465
66 of Faith. . . . . . . . . . * * * * c e º e a e e 531
&&. Time of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 469
Conformity to Christ. . . . . • e º 'º e º e º ºs e ºs . 283, 294
CoNscIENCE—
66 defined. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .252
66 good, a... . . . . . . . . . . 74, 252, 275
Ké Ingredients of..... tº e º 'º - e. e. e. 252
£6 of Christians. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 251
&G pure • * - - - - - - - - - - - - - . . . . . . . 581
{{ toward God. . . . . . . . . ... . . . . . 181
Conscientious Obedience. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 486
Consideration of Christ’s Sufferings........ 256
Constancy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * e s e e • e - tº e - © tº 103
“ of Obedience to God....... . . . . 508
Constrainedness in Preaching...... . . . . . . .333
Constraint. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 486
Contemplation of God..... • * * * g º e º 'º e - a tº e 526
66 of Providence. . . . . . . . . .... 524
Contempt of Mercy punished..... ... . . . . . 545
Contingency of Events. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 593
Continuance in Prayer. . . . . . . . . . ‘. . . . . . . . 410
Conversation, a vain. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110
6& a holy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 209
66 of Christians. . . . . . . . . . . .... 251
Converse with unholy Persons. . . . . . . . . . . . 439
Conversion.............. 75, 120, 403, 448, 486
INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
.785
Conviction. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 486
Co-Presbyter, Peter a.......... e s is e º 'º ſº e º ſº 329
Cord of Necessity..... • * * *s e e tº e º e º e º a tº e º . 485
Corner-Stone, Christ the..... tº e s tº e s e e s e º s 140
Correction by God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 543
Corruption natural. . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º º ºs e tº , 481
Countenance, God’s, Light of... . . . . . . . . . . 526
Counterfeit of Grace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 336
Courage of Saints. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 492
Course of a Christian. . . . . . . tº dº º e º 'º º e e º 'º e e 292
“ of the World. . . . . tº g º dº e º a v e º e º e s e e 292
Courtesy. . . . . . . . . . . tº º e º e º e º 'º . . . . . . . . ... 216
Covering of Evil. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .306
Covering of Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 366
Covetousness respecting Preaching. . . . . . . . 334
Cowper, the Poet. . . . . & e s e º e º 'º e º 'º e º 'º º e ... 39
CREATION.—
66 of Man. . . . . e e s e e º a tº º e s tº e º e º ſº 673
66 of the World. . . . . © e º e is º ºs e º & 381, 670
<6 Works of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 383
Creed a, the Object of Faith..... * * * * * * e e s 619
Creed, Exposition of the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 581
Crown of Glory. . . . . . . . . e e s e º 8 s e º 'º e º º 334,452
“ of Pride. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . , 453
Crucifixion of Jesus. . . . . . . tº e e s e ºs e º & e s a s e 585
Crucifixion to Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 284
“Curae leves loquuntur”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 475
Cure of Diseases by Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 424
Cure of the Leper. . . . . . . . . . e e º 'º e º º . . . . . 432
D.
Daily Bread, Prayer for . . . . . . . . . . . & a s e º e a 610
Dangers and Trials. . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º e º e s tº e 466
Daniel . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 494
Darius. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 494
Dark Night. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 519
Daughters of Sarah. . . . . . . . . . - . . . . . . . . . . 207
DAVID . . . . . . . . . . . e e s e e s is e º e s a e o e s tº e s e º e 173
“ Confidence of... . . . . . . . . . . . e e º dº e º 'º 465
“ Humility of... . . . . . . . . tº s tº e º sº e º º . . . 427
* Prayer of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * is a e 469
“ Purpose of... . . . . . . . . . tº tº e º e º e . . . . , 465
* Song of..... © º s s tº 8 e e º ºs & ſº © e e s a e s is a º 469
“ Sympathy of... . . . . . . . . . . . dº sº e s e º e . . 471
Day of Wisitation. . . . . . . tº e e e º & e º e tº e º 'º e º ſº 169
Days, Measure of... . . © a s e º 'º º e e º is tº e º . 388, 389
Days of Good. . . . . . . . . tº e s a tº e º e º e e s e e e º & 226
Days of Noah. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . e is tº e s sº e º 'º º e 268
Dead Faith..... © e s e e s e e e º e º & © tº º 'º e º tº º tº 380
Dead Ministers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 403
Dealing unjustly, Causes of... . . . . . . . . . . . 637
DEATH and Sleep. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 456
“ Desire of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 397
“ in Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e e we º us . . . . 519.
“ in the Flesh. . . . . tº º te e º & tº e º ſe e º e º 'º 296
“ of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263, 585
“ Spiritual. . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º e º e º ºs º º . 456
“ to Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . e is e s e e º e º 'º & & © . . 193
Debts, Payment of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 487
DECALOGUE. . . . . tº e º 'º is © º . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 619
66 Preface to the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 620
66 Precept of I. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 622
G& 66 II. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 625
&G 6& III. . . . . . . . . . . . 627
& 6& TV...... . . . . . . . . . . . 629
“ 66 W. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 631
66 &G VI. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 633
&G 66 WII. . . . . tº º e s tº ſº tº ſº º e e 634
66 © VIII. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 636
&G 66 D.C. . . . . . ....... . . . . . 638
& Ç6 X. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 640
PAGE.
Deceitfulness of the Heart.............. .. 547
Deception, Self. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 431
Decorum. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • * * * * * * * © & e º tº e . 521
Decrees of God. . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * • * * * * * * 668
Defence of Christians. . . . . . . tº º is a e º 'º e s ſº e s & 248
“ of moderate Episcopacy. . . . . . . . . . 723
Deformity of Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 396
Delay of Religion...... * - e º e º º ºs º O e º e º e º e 435
Delight in Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . © º e g º ºs º ºr e e 89
Delight in God..... e e s a e < e < e º is e * e º e º 'º e e 496
Delight of Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232
Delight of Saints. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 525
Delightful Society. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 659
Delights of Religion....... © s e º 'º e º e º 'º e º º is 667
Delights of Sense. . . . . . . © e & © tº e º 'º e º ſº tº º e º tº 528
Deliverance and Repentance. . . . . . . . . . . . . 517
Deliverance from Evil... . . . . . . tº e º e º ſº º ... 659
Deliverances. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 681
Deluge, the. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 546
Dependance upon the Holy Spirit. . . . . . . . . , 233
Depths, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 370
Descent of Jesus to Hell. . . . . & is e º ºs e g º e . . . 585
Design of the Gospel. . . . . . . . . . • * * * * * * * * * 535
Desire for Christ. ... . tº e º e º is e º e º ſº tº e º a tº 9 . 89
“ for Death. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © tº º e e º e 9 397
“ of Happiness universal . . . . . . . . . ... 660
“ of Life. . . . . . . . . . . . . tº º e º e º e º e e ... 397
Destruction of the Enemies of the Church. , 545
Detraction. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 639
DEVIL, the
“ a roaring Lion. . . . . . . . . . . * @ e º º ºs ... 346
“ cited Scripture. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 422
“ our Adversary. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . , 345
“ Resistance to. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 346
Diadem of Beauty. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 452
Dignities of Christians. . . . . . . . . tº ſº e º ºs & . 134, 182
Dignity of Christians. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 536
Dignity of Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . 232, 236, 299, 595
Diligence in Business. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 408
Directions for Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232
Directions to praise God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 354
Disappointed Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228.
Discernment, Clearness of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 429.
Disciples of Christ, Calling of. . . . . . . . . . . . . 440,
66 “ Duty of. . . . . . . . . . . ... 643
Discipline. . . . . tº e e s e e s e e º s e • * * * * * * * * * * * * 726,
Disconformity to the World. . . . . . . . . . . . . , 294
Discourse. . . . . . . . . . e g º e º º e s e tº tº e o e º & e s e e 223
Disease of Sim. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * & © tº dº º ºs e º , 198.
Diseases cured by Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 424
Disguise of Grace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 336
Disobedience. . . . . . . . tº ſº e º ſº e º a tº º . . . . . . 145, 267
Disobedient, the . . . . . . . . . . . . * @ & © º ºs e e e ºs 145,267
66 “ End of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 325.
Çs “ Folly of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 146
66 “ Unhappiness of. . . . . . . . . . . 146.
Dispensation of the Word................ 500
Disquietude vain. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 429
Dissembling, Art of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 442
Distress, Enlargement in. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 358.
Distress in the World. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 242
Divine Attributes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 698
Divine Grace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 505.
Divine Knowledge.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 288
Divine Providence........... . . . . . . . . . . . 450
66 6& Belief in. . . . . . . . . . . . . . , 342
Divine Purpose.......... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 498
Divinity of the Scriptures. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 696.
Divorce..... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 426.
Docile Sufferer, the... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . *::
DocTRINE, Author of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
99
786
INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
PAGE. PAGE
‘DocTRINE, Beings exercised in............ 97 | Ensamples, Preachers should be........... 333
G& Matter of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95 | Envy... . . . . © tº e º 0 e º e e º e e º e a e e . . . . . . 126, 520
66 of Christ. . . . . © e e º C & . . . . . . . . . . 431 | Epictetus. . . . . tº e s e º 'º e º e o a s e º e . . . 126, 161,498
66 of Grace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 96 || Epicureans, Notions of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 670
C& of the Gospel. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94 | Episcopacy in Scotland. . . . . . . tº ſº e º e º e º 'º . . 724
6& of the Scriptures, Divine. . . . . . , 696 66 Moderate. . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . . 725
Doddridge, Criticism by, on Leighton’s Wri- 66 Defence of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 723
tings. . . . . . . . . . ‘e e e s • * * . . . . . 48 | Equity of Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 299
&&. Preface by . . . . . . . . . • e o e º 'º e e º e 59 | Equity, Rule of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 430
Dog-Hunger. . . . . . . & e º e e º e e s e º e s e e o e .... 638 || Erroneous Opinions......... tº e º sº e º e º 'º e º e 624
Doing Good. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 224, 307 || Error of Man. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * @ e º e º e = * . 100
Doing Good in Secrecy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 427 Esau. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . & e º e º ſº º 164
Doom of the Hypocrite. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 428 Eschewing of Evil. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . & Cº - e º º 224
Double-minded Man, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103 || Establishment of Christians. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 348
Doubleness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 221 Esteem of the World. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 529
Doubtings, spiritual. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 144 Eternal Glory. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 352
Doubts and Fears. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 466 Eternal Life . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 593
Dove-like Simplicity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 442 Eternal Punishment. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 690
Doxology to the Lord’s Prayer. . . . . . . . . ... 617 | Evenness in the Ways of God. . . . . . . . . . . . 508
Drudgery of Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . & Cº e º s e a tº e s a e 172 | Events, Contingency of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 493
Drunkenness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 102, 520 “ Liberty of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 493
Dunghill God, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 344 “ Necessity of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 493
Duties of the Ministry. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 577 | Evidence of Election..... e e s a s e a e e º 'º e º a . 511
Duties of the People toward their Ministers 580 | Evil, Abhorrence of....... e e is e e º 'º e v e e º e º 407
Duty of Christ’s Disciples.......... e e º e º & 643 “ Concupiscence. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 642
Duty of Husbands and Wives............. 202 “ Deliverance from . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 616, 659
Duty of Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232, 235, 595 || “ Doers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 227, 320
Duty, present. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 558 “ Heart. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 437
Duty to Superiors. . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº gº e º 'º - © tº e 632 “ Prayer for Deliverance from......... 616
Duty toward God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • e º e º 'º e . 489 “ pre-apprehended. . . . . . . . . . e e e º e º e e s e 534
Dwell at Home. . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e e º e - e. . . . . . 704 || “ Speaking. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126, 219,251
Dwelling in God’s House.......... . . . . . . . 475 “ & 6 Eschewing of... . . . . . . . . . . . 223
{& &G Injustice of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 251
E. 66 gr Remedy of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 221
Ears of the Lord. . . . . © º e º e º e e º ºs e º e . . . . . 231 | ** 66 <& Rules for........ 251
Earthliness. . . . . . . . . . . tº e e º 'º e e e e º 'º e º 'º - e. . . 426 “ Thoughts. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 490
Earthly-mindedness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 444 || “ Tongue. . . . . . . . . . . . e e e e e s a e e e s e s e e 641
Edification. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 404 || “ Tongues of the Ungodly............. 251
Effect of Example. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 240 “ Treasure..... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 441
Effects of Christ’s Death. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197 || Examination, Self. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 336
Fffectual Calling...... e e º e e º e º e º ºs e º e º º 66, 70 Example, Effect of... . . . . . . . . . tº dº e º e º 'º º e e 240
Efficacy of Affliction. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 568 “ of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 185,257
“ of Christ’s Example. . . . . . . . . . . . . 258 66 Obligations from the ... 187
Fgypt, Treasures of . . . . . . . . . . . . . º, º e º e e e , 463 “ of the Saints. . . . . . . . . q e s e º 'º e s ... 256
Egyptian Temples. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 454 Excellency of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 476
Ejaculatory Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 291 &6 of the Christian Religion....... 692
Blders. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º 'º e s tº e º 'º e º e 328,334|| Excess of Riot............ tº e & © e o 'º e º e s e e . 292
Flection eternal. . . . . . . • * g º a º ºs e e e º s e e º 'º e 66 Excuses for Delay in Religion..... © 0 e º e º ºs 434
“ Evidence of... . . . . . . e is e º e º & & ... 511 Exercise in Affliction.................... 569
“ to Obedience. . . . . . . . . & e º e º e º e º e 66 66 of Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232
Helihu. . . . . e is e e s tº e º e º tº © tº e º e º e º e s a e e a 448, 536 | Exhortation before the Communion........ 704
Elijah and Elisha. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 424 66 to Students. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 706
Eliphaz. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © tº e s is e º s e e e e ... 464 | Exhortations to Candidates. . . . . . . . . . . . 708,721
Encouragement to Holiness. . . . . * tº º ºs e º ºs ... 503 || Experience, particular................... 491
End of Affliction. . . . . . . . • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 567 || Expectation of Christians. . . . . . . tº e º & © e º º º 100
End of all Things. . . . . . . . © e º ſº º tº º e e . . . . . . .302 | Expiation. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . & e º 'º e e º e ... ... 66
End of Christ’s Sufferings. . . . . . . . tº e s a tº e ... 193 || Exposition of the Creed. . . . . . . . ... ‘. . . . . . . 581
Bnd of Man. . . . . tº e º e º º e • • ** - - - - - - - - - - - . 388 66 of the Lord’s Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . 594
End of Preaching. . . . . . . . . . . e & e e s e e º a ... 312 &G of the Ten Commandments..... 619
End of the Calling by God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 155 | Expository Lectures—
End of the Gospel. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 427 6& 46 on Psalm xxxix...... 385
Enemies, Love of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 426 G& 66 on Isaiah wi. . . . . . . . . . 398
Enemies of Religion. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 251 Ç& 66 on Romans xii. . . . . . . 404
Enemies of the Church, Destruction of..... 545 | External Reformation.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 253
Evioknoas Taxixate. . . . . . • e º a º ºs e * @ e e s e s e e . 494 “ Testimony to the Scriptures...... 696
Tenlargement in Distress. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 358 Eye-Witnesses of Christ..... e e e s is e º e º e e e 329
Enlargement of Heart. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... .. 507 | Eyes of the Lord. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 229
6& Attainment of... . . . . . . . . . . . . 509
Enmity against God. . . . . . . . . e e s a c e s ſº tº . . . 481 F.
“ Injustice of.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 484 || Face of the Lord. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 230
“ Unhappiness of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 484 || Fading Flower. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 453
INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
78?
PAGE.
FAITH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63, 81, 435, 582, 644
“ and Hope . . . . . * * * * * * * * e s tº e º ºs º is e e e 101
“ appropriating. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147
“ Confession of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 550
“ Confidence of..... e e º e a e e º e º e º º & • 531
“ dead. . . . . . . & e º e º is ſº . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 380
“ Effects of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197
“ End of. . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91
“ Excellency of. . . . . . . . . © e º e º e & tº 8 tº º 85
“ invincible. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . . 573
“ Mistakes concerning. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 143
“ Mystery of . . . . . . . . . . . . . * @ e º 'º e º 'º e . 581
“ Necessities of . . . . . tº e º 'º tº gº º 'º g º ºs e º ſº tº 145
“ Prayer of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 550
“ Pretences to. . . . . . . . . tº a s e & E * * * * . . . .144
“ purifying. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º º ſº º º . 144
“ Requirements of . . . . . tº e º e º º tº e e s ∈ C & 698
“ Steadfastness in the . . . . . . . . e & © tº e º e 346
“ Strength of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 571
“ Trial of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © e º 'º e º 'º e º º 570
“ with Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 396
“ Working of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88
Faithfulness of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 499
Fall, Letters of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47
False Prophets. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 431
False Witness. . . . . . . . . . . tº º & e º e º e º 'º & © tº º . 489
Fasting. . . . . . . e e s e º e s e s e a tº e is e º e º e º e º e . . 427
“ of Christ. . . . . {e s is e º e º º º is sº º & s tº e º e . 421
Favor of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * e s e s e e . 241
FEAR of God... 107, 176, 250, 379, 486, 494, 504
“ Continuance of . . . . . . . . . * e e º e e s e s e e 110
“ distrustful. . . . . . . . . & e s e s e e s tº e º e º 'º e º 'º 435
* filial..... tº e º e º º e a e e º e º e º e s e e º e º s º 108
“ Ground of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115
“ Household of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117
“ Object of.... . . . . . * c e s e e tº e º e º ſº tº e º º 115
“ servile. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 108
“ Warrant of... . . . . . . . . e s e º e e º 'º & s e e . 115
Fears and Doubts. . . . . tº gº e º ºs s e º 'º e s ∈ & e º e º º 466
“. . within . . . . . . . . . e s e e º e º 'º e º 'º º e tº e º e º 'º 325
Feeding of the Flock of God... . . . . . . . . . . . 331
Felicity true..... tº e º 'º e º ſº tº e e º e º e º a tº s 2 & & 8 . 691
Fervency in Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 234, 395,430
Fervor of Spirit. . . . . . . . . . . e e º e is e º 'º e º 'º e is , e
Festivities of the World. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . , 529
Fidelity in Preaching. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 311
“ of God. . . . . . . . . . . tº º gº tº tº º & e e s e e e ... 328
“ of Ministers. . . . . . . . tº º e º 'º e º ºs e º 'º . . 578
Fiery Trials. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 313
Fighting Life... . . . . . . . tº º tº e º is e tº & © e e . . . . . 313
Fightings without. . . . . . . * * * * * * * * c e º e º e º e 325
Filth of the Flesh. . . . . . . * * * * * * e º e e e º e . . . .277
Filthiness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66
“ Cleansing of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 503
Fire of Hell. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * g º ºs e e . . . . . 126
First Resurrection. . . . . . . © e º e º 'º & © & © tº e º e . 125
Fishers of Men. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 424
Fishing, Art of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 424
Fixed Heart. . . . . tº e e º ºs e e º e º & º & © tº e º e e & . . . 355
Fleshly Lusts. . . . . . . . . • * * * * * - - - - - - . . . . . 162
66 “ Abstinence from . . . . . . . . . . . . 165
Flock of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 331
Followers of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 434, 439
C & of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 240
66 of Good. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 238
Following of Christ..... . . . . . 434, 439, 559, 643
&é of Good. . . . . . . . . . tº gº e º ſº º º . . . . . 241
Folly of Man. . . . . . . . . . tº º e º ſº tº e º sº . . . . . . . , 541
Fool. . . . . . . e a c e e s e e e s sº tº º e º 'º e º 'º º . . . . . . . 127
Foolish Builders. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 404
“ Lusts.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 340
PAGE.
Foolishness of Preaching. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 331
Fools, Rest of. . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . , 523, 537
Forbearance of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 556
Force of Speaking. . . . . . . . . e e s tº e º e • . . . . . . 431
Foreknowledge of God. . . . . . . . . . ... . . . . . 67, 69
Forgiveness. . . . . . . . tº ºi º e º ºs e º º tº e º e º º e º e . . 217
66 from God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 377
66 of Iniquity... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 365
G6 of Injuries. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 426
€ $ of Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 437, 592
66 “ Prayer for. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 614
Formal Ministers. . . . . . . . & sº tº º & © tº e º te e º º ... 403
Formality in Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . e ‘º e º 'º º . . . 430
Foundation-Stone, Jesus Christ the . . . . . . . . 140
66 “ Building on the . . . . . . . . . 142
66 “ Laying of the . . . . . . . . . . 141
Fountain of living Waters. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 470
Fragment on Ezra ix. . . . . . . . . . . e tº dº tº gº e º ºs . 725
6% on Psalm viii. . . . . . . ... * * * tº e s tº e 381
Fragrancy of the Name of Jesus........ . . 475
Frailty of Man. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121,389
Free Grace. . . . . tº e º 'º º tº tº º º tº * g º e º 'º e . . . . . . 418
Freeness of the Grace of God........ . . . . . 181
Fretful Impatience. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 409, 572
Friends of God. . . . . . . & º e º te e º e s e º e ºs . . . . . 484
Fruitless Speech. . . . . * * * * * * * * * e º e º 'º e º e º e 220
Fruits of Christian Love. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 306
“ of Repentance. . . . . © e s tº e e e e º e s e ... 419
“ of the Spirit. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 557
Fulfilling of the Law. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 489, 560
Fulfilment of Prophecy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 423
G.
Gadarenes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . 436
Garments, white. . . . . . . . . . . . º $ tº e s tº a gº e º 'º º 521
Genealogy of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 411
“Genus irritabile vatum”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 437
Germany, Sin of..... G s s e º c • - - - - - - - - - - - . 577
Gifts and Graces......... . . . . . . . . . . . 309
Gladness of Heart.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 364
Glorifying of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 242
66 of God. . . . . . . . * * * e s e e s e . . . . . . 312
Glory ascribed to God............ tº e º º e º º 353
“ Crown of..... tº e º a •e e e e e º e º e º 'º e ſº ... 334
“ eternal. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... • 352
“ of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 96
“ of Man. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122
“ of the Lord..... © tº $ tº º ſº tº º . . . . . . . 459, 462
“ Partakers of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 330
“ revealed. . . . . . . tº º ºs e º ºs º dº tº e e ... . . . . . . 331
Glorying in the Lord. . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 541
Twoff, weavrov. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 535
GOD–
“ Ability of....... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 328
“ altogether lovely........... . . . . . . . . 90
“ Anger of... . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 543
66 G& Averting of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 544
“ Attributes of........... * * c e s a e s e º 'º 698
“ Awe of... . . . . . . . . * * a e s a e tº e º e dº º ... 361
“ Being of... . . . . . . . . . . . . tº gº e º te e º e º is . 660
“ Bestowment of Mercy by............ 621
“ Bounty of......... tº º e s is e º ſº . . . . . 483, 700
“ Calling of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 154
“ Children of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 342
“ Commandments of......... . . . . . . . . . 505
&&. &&. perfect. . . . . . . . .... 530
“ consuming Fire. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 484
“ Contemplation of....... . . . . . . . . . . . 526
“ Conviction by . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 543
“ Countenance of....... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 526
66 66 Light of... . . . . . . . . . . . . 526
788
INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
- PAGE.
GOD, Decrees of....................... . 668
“ Existence of............. e g & & © e º is e 699
“ faithful Creator....... e is º e º 'º º dº º ſº º ſº tº 328
“ Faithfulness of........ *... e º is e º 'º e º e º e 499
“ Father. . . . . . . . . gº e e g º º 'º e º 'º . 109, 582, 599
“ Father of Lights. . . . . . . . . . . . * * e o e e . 153
“ Favor of . . . . . . . . . . e tº e º 'º ſº º ºs e º 'º ºn ºn e e 241
“ Fear of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176, 250, 379
“ Fidelity of......... e e e º 'º e e s ∈ G e e s ∈ . 328
* Flock of. . . . . e e º e e º & © e º e e º e e tº º e º e tº 331
“ Followers of... . . . . . . & E & e º 'º tº e º ºs º & . 240
“ Forbearance of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 556
“ Foreknowledge of..... tº º & © tº $ tº . . . . . 67, 69
* Forgiveness from....... tº e º ºs e º 'º e º & © 377
“ Friends of....... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 484
“ Glorifying of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 312
“ Glory of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 450, 617
** Goodness of..... © e º e º e e 132,499, 515, 700
* Good Will of............ * @ e º e º e e is , 342
* Government of........ tº º e s tº e º 'º e º . . 677
“ Grace of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63,356, 483
* Graciousness of..... e e º ſº º ºs º dº º gº º ſº º 132
“ Greatness of....... Q tº tº º e º e º 'º . . . . . . 617
66 66 Praise for..... . . . . . . . . . 618
* Hand of..... tº e º sº gº º ºs e e º e º e º ºs e º e º 'º . 338
“ Happiness in . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 695
“ Hiding of the Face of..... . . . . . . . . . 570
* Holiness of....... * * * * * e º ºs & e º 'º º tº 107, 700
* Holy One of Israel. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 546
* Ignorance of..... tº e º e º e º 'º º tº & © e º tº e is 624
* Image of... . . . . & e e g c e e º e º e º 'º e º º c 76, 519
“ Jewels of... . . . . . . . . . e e g º e º 'º e g º e º & 136
“ Judge. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109
“ Judgment of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . * G - e. e. e. 108
* Justice of....... e w tº & © tº a s is e tº º e g g º º . 700
“ King of Glory. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 618
“ Kingdom of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 605, 617
“ Knowledge of, Absolute and Perfect... 677
“ Likeness to. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 521
* Long-Suffering of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 268
“ Love of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157
“ Love to. . . . . . . tº e º e º & & © 408, 470, 474, 489
“ Loving Kindness of . . . . . . . . . . . ... 467, 526
“ Majesty of...... e e º 'º e º ºs e e tº ſº e g º e º º ... 398
* Marking Iniquity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 375
“ Mercy of . . . . . . . . . . . .... 76, 158, 548, 700
66 66 Bestowment of. . . . . . . . . . . . 621
“ Message of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 402
“ Name of, hallowed. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 603, 629
“ Nearness to . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 260
66 66 Privation of...... . . . . . . . 261
G& 66 Restoration to . . . . . . . . . . . 261
“ Obligations to . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 622
“ of all Grace. . . . . tº & e e º e s a tº a . . . . . . . 350
* of Righteousness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 358
* Omnipotence of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 582
“ our Life. . . . . . . tº tº º e º e º e º º . . . . . . . . . 469
* Patience of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 483, 556
“ People of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158
“ Power of... . . . . . . e ‘º e º 'º e º e e s 81, 617, 700
<< Praise to . . . . . . & e º & © e º e s e º e s e s e e e . 484
* Prerogative of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 564
“ Presence of... . . . . . . * e e s e s e e º e s tº $ tº 701
“ Protection of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 241
* Purity of. . . . . . . . . . . ... . . . . . . . 443
“ Rejoicing in..... © º º º & © tº e e s tº e º e º e . 534
* Relation to. . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * g e e e 622
* Reverence of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 619
“ Sanctifying of, in the Heart.......... 244
&&. 66 Effects of... . . . . . . . . . . . . 245
* - Searcher of Hearts. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 459
PAGE
GOD, Shield, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e 4 e g c & e º ºs . 463
“ Sons of... . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * * * * * e e º e 505
“ Sovereignty of... . . . . . . . . . . . .... 109, 622
* Teaching of... . . . . . . . . & © e º 'º e e e s is e e 541
“ Union with . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263
“ Universal Sovereignty of......... ... 622
“ unwilling to afflict his People....... 565
“ Vision beatific of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 660
“ Warning by....................... 269
* Will of... . . . . . . . e e is a º e º a s e e 171,287, 607
“ Wisdom of........................ 700
“ Word of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123
&G & Operation of the . . . . . . . . . . . . 131
“ Worship of............... . . . . . 450, 664
Godliness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72
66 Mystery of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 584
Godly Men—
“ Preservation of the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 271
“ Sorrow of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . gº º ſº dº º ſº . . 470
66 “ Nature of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 472
Godly Sorrow. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 471
“God-Man”. . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e g º g º ºs e º dº e º 'º is 412
GooD—
“ Cleaving to. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 407
“ Conscience. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275
66 66 Answer of... . . . . . . . . . . . 275
“ Constancy of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 224
“ Conversation. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 168
“ Days. . . . . . . . . . . . . . & º e º 'º e º e º º tº e º e 226
“ Doing of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . e tº e º ſº e 224
“ done in Secret. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 427
“ Exactness of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 224
“ Following of..... & e º e º e º e º ºs e e º a e . . 241
“ Heart. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 502
“ Tidings. . . . . . . & s a tº e º ſº e º e º ºs e e s tº e e º e 680
“ Universality of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 224
“ Will of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 342
* Will to Christ. . . . . . . . . tº e s sº e º ſº tº e º e . 89
“ Works, Merit of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 376
Goodness of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 476
&G 6& Expression of........... 478
“ of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 500, 700
“ of the Lord. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 132
Good Will to Christ. . . . . tº e s tº e e º e a tº v c e º e º 89
“ “ of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 342
Gospel by Matthew, Lectures on. . . . . . . . . . 411
“ Design of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 535
“ End of... . . . * * * * * * * * * e s s e e º ºs e e º 'º . 427
“ Light of the......... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153
G6 “ Marvellous. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153
“ Not a Doctrine of Licentiousness... 418
“ of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 325
“ preached. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 479
“ Preaching of the . . . . . . . . . ... . . . . . . 294
Government of God Universal. . . . . . . . . . . . 677
GRACE OF GOD. . . . . . . . . . . © e º e s e º e º 'º e & 63,356
“ a Divine Light. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 527
“ and Glory. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71
“ and Obedience. . . . . . . . tº º e º e º e º e º E 505
“ and Peace. . . . . . . . . . . g is e e s a e º e º e 71, 72
“ assisting. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72
“ Beginnings of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125
“ Counterfeit of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 336
“ disguised. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 336
“ Doctrine of... . . . . . . . . . . . . * c e s e e s 96
* Freeness of... . . . . e e g º e º e º s e e º e a 181
“ given to the Humble. . . . . . . . . . . ... 337
“ Growth in... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 131
“ in Conflict... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 292
* Increase of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 337
“ of Life. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 208
INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 789.
PAGE. PAGE.
GRACE, Perseverance in. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 348 Heart, holy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 229, 232
“ preventing. . . . . . e tº e s e e º & e º ºs e º ſº e ∈ 72 | “ honest. . . . . . . . . . . * † tº e º 'º º ºs ... . . . . . 502
“ Progress in... . . . . . . . . . . . tº dº tº e º & º º 348 “ humble. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . 229
“ Riches of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 483 || “ liberal. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 428
“ Safety of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 337 “ Murder ...... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 633
“ State of. . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * e º e º sº e 459 || “ Preparation of the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 233
“ Supernatural. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 684 || “. Singleness of.... . . . . . . . tº e º sº tº º e º & Cº. 427
“ Working of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72 | “ Softness of..... e º ºs e º e º & 8 tº G ºn e º e º tº . 474
Graces and Gifts. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 309|Heaven, Kingdom of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 423
“. . of Christians. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 405 “ Obedience in . . . . . . . . . . tº 6 e º ſº e & C . 609
“ of the Spirit. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 304 “ Way to. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 691
Gracious Discourse. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 223 Heavenly-Mindedness of Ministers. . . . . . . . 578
Graciousness of the Lord. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 132 66 Wisdom. . . . . tº e s e º a tº e s e º ſº e º e s a de 441
Grapes from Thorns. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 490 | Heaviness of Christians. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83
Grass, Frailty of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122 66 66 Shortness of....... 84
GRIEF— 66 G& Utility of....... . . . 83
“ Degrees of . . . . . . . . * tº e e s e º e s e e e s e e 472 | Heirs of Life. . . . . . . * g º e º e º e º 'º dº tº e º & . .... 208
* generous . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 470 | Heirship with Christ..... tº º ſº e º º ......... 683
“ Nature of . . . . . . . . . . . . . & e º e º e e s e e is 473 | Hell, Prison of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . . . . . . . 424
“ Object of.... . . . . . . . . . . . & e º a º e º e ſº 471 | Herod the King............. . . . . . . . . . . . . 414
“ Subject of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 472 | << “ Anger of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 415
Ground for the Word. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . 501 6& “ Fear of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 415
“ Good. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .... 502 || “ “ Trouble of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 414
“ Highway. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e ºs º º 501 | Herodotus. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . . . . 493
“ Stony. . . . . . . . . . . tº e º se e º sº e e g º ºs e º º 501 | Hezekiah. . . . . . . . . Q & © tº º o g a e s e º $ t c & . . . . . 452
“ Thorny. . . . . . . . . . . © e s tº e º e º e º e º 0 & 501 | Hiding of God’s Face. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 570
Growth in Grace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 131 | Highway. . . . . . . . . . tº e º 'º e º a e e e s e º e º 'º & .... 501
“ in Spiritual Life. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 298 || Highways of Impiety. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 238
“ of Christians. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 130 | Hinderance to Prayer...... dº º ſº tº ſº tº º © º e º º º . 209
Guidance of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . ſº º e º e e º e º e 201 || Hoary Head. . . . . . . . . . . tº e º 'º e º e > . . . . . . ... 334
Guile. . . . . . . . & Cº º e º ºs º & © tº gº tº e º e º e tº º e º e º ſº º • 221 | Holin Ess. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106,458, 631
Guilelessness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 367 66 Breadth of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 503
66 of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 186 66 Depth of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 504
Guiltiness. . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * e s e s e tº e º e º 'º & tº º 66 66 Image of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 519
“ of Sin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 198, 562, 613 G& in Preaching. . . . . e is e º e º e s e º º ºs ... 111
&&. “ Confession of the . . . . . . . ... 613 66 Length of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 503
G6 Motives to . . . . . . . tº tº e º 'º º & e º & º e ... 504
H. <& Of God. . . . . . . . . . . & ſº º e º 'º e . . . . . . 700
HABAKKUK— Q & only Source of Happiness..... . . . 693
&Q Fear of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 532 66 Perfection of..... & e e s e º e 106, 504
<& Joy of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 534 6& Rule of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 240
&% Prophecy of... . . . . . . tº º º e º e ... 532 Holy Diligence. . . . . . . * * * * * * • * * * * e º e º e º e e 513
<& Song of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 533 “ Ghost, the. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 590
6& Trust of... . . . . . tº tº º e º e º sº e g g tº gº 531 “ Heart. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 229, 232
Haman. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 642 “ Life. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº s > * * * 138, 732
Hand of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 338 “ “ Instructions for... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 734
Hannibal. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * e ºs e e s e e º a . 421 “ “ Rules for. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 732
HAPPINESS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 694 | “ Obedience. . . . . . . . . . . . e G s s e º 'º e º º . . 505
6% Desire for. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 649 “ Spirit, the . . . . . C & e º e e s s a tº e s ∈ s e º e & ... 68
66 66 Universal. . . . . . . . . . . . 650 £6 <& Assistance of. . . . . . . . . . . . . 233
&ć in God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 695, 698 || Holyrood House, Meeting at. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27
K& Name, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 694 | Homage to Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 413
<& Nature of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 695 || Honest Heart. . . . . © e g º e s e e º 'º º 'º e s & ºn 8 ° tº . . 502
&ć not confined to Earth. . . . . . . . . . . 696 | Honor of the World. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 529
6& not on Earth. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 653 “ to God... . . . . . . . . * @ e º e º º . . . . . . . . . 487
&C. of Christians. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 240, 24 “ to Men. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 174
<& of Man. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 650 “ to Others. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . & s & a e º ºs e is 408
&ć of the Life to come. . . . . . . . . . . . 658 “ to Parents. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º 'º º º • 631
&G only from Holiness. . . . . . . . . . . . • 693 l Hope. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75, 92, 101
&G Search after. . . . . . . . . . . tº º e º 'º º 'º • 652 “ amid Billows. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 464
6. Way of... . . . . . . . . . . © e º 'º º ºr . 430, 692 “ in the Lord......... tº ſº e º 'º º tº a s a tº e º s º 392
YHarbinger of Christ. . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * * * * * 417 | “ of Christians. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 248
Harmony of the Scriptures. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 411 || “ of Glory. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107
Hatred. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 639 Horace. . . . . . . e e º a t e º e e s e s a tº * * * * 363,364,499
Healing. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 403 || Hospitality. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .308
“ of Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © tº e º e s e º e º 'º 199 || House of God, dwelling in....... . . . . . . . . . 475
Health, Blessing of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 433 | << “ Judgment in. . . . . tº gº tº º e º 'º ... 322
Hearing of Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e s a . 232, 234 || “ of Prayer.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .395
“ of the Word. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 502 | Household of Faith........... . . . . . . . . . . . 117
Heart, Communion with the . . . . . * e º e e º is e e 362 | Human Liberty....... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 678
“ Gladness of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .364 Humble Confidence. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 340
790
INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
Humble Heart. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ............ 229
Humility. . . . . . . tº º dº e º ºs e º ºs e ... 239, 334, 395,405
“ in Prayer...... e e º e g º e º a . . . . . . . .395
“ of David..... tº e s as e º e º e º e º 'º e º º . . 427
“ of Ministers. . . . . . . . . e e º e e s is e º 'º . 578
Husbands, Duty of..... © g º O e º e º 'º º & . . . . . 202
6& Honor from . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 208
66 Knowledge of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 207
Hutchinson, George. . . . . . . . tº e º 'º e e g º e º 'º e . 25
Hypocrisy........ s e e º e e º e º 'º ..... 128,427, 459
Hypocrite, Craft. . . . . . . . . tº e º e > * * * * * . . . . . 442
66 Doom of . . . . . . . & e º ºs e º t e º t e º 'º & . 428
I.
Identity of Religion. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 252
Idolatry. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 287, 444, 624
Ignis Fatuus. . . . . tº e º e º ºs e º e a e º 'º e º e º e º 'º e . 458
Ignorance and Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105
66 inconsistent with Religion. . . . . . 443
G6 of God..... & © tº e º e º & © tº e e º 'º e º e . 624
66 of the Law of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . 474
Illumination. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 687
Image of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76, 519,631, 675
Imitators of Good. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 238
“Immobilis”. . . . . . © e. e. e º e s m e º a tº t e º 'º e º e º e 492
Immoderate Speech. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 701
Immortality of the Soul. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 655
Impatience. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 409, 572
Impenitence, Sleep of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 456
Impenitency. . . . . . . . . . . * * * * B e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. 269, 515
Imperfect Perfection. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
Imperſection and Perfection. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 527
Impiety, Highways of... . . . . . . . . . . ....... 286
Importunity of Prayer. . . . . . . . . . .......... 396
Impurity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * * e º e º e s e e 426
“ discovered. . . . . . . . . . . . . & e º e s is a e e 640
Increase of Grace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 337
66 of spiritual Life. . . . . ſº e º e º e º e º e º e 130
Inequality of Christians. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 253
Infallibility of all Events praising God..... 493
Infancy of Christians... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125
“Infelix lolium”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 502
Inheritance of Christians..... © º ºs e º e º is e e a 74, 76
66 Assurance of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74
66 Cause of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 74, 80
{{ Certainty of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79
&G Estate of . . . . . . . . . . . ........ 80
66 Incorruptible.......... . . . . . . . 77
66 Preservation of..... . . . . . . . . . 80
66 Possession of................. 81
6& the Christian. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 218
6& Title to. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº tº 74
Çg undefiled. . . . . . . . . . .......... 78
66 unwithering. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79
Iniquity, Visitation of.................... 626
66 Forgiveness of......... tº e º 'º e º ſº . 365
€6 marked by God................. 376
66 taken away. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 400
Injuries. . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * c e e tº gº tº e º ºs e e º 'º e º 'º 217
Injustice in Dealing.......... tº dº e º ſº e º e º e e 637
G6 of Evil-Speaking............... . 251
Innocency of Children. . . . . . . . . e e º e º 'º & 8 ... 126
Inscription to the First Epistle of Peter.... 63
Instability. . . . . . . . . . . ‘. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103
Integrity of Ministers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 576
Interest in Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ......... 258
Internal Character of the Scriptures....... 692
“Interpretatio spei”........ © e º ºs º ºs e º 'º e º e 619
Interpretation of Calamities. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 554
Introduction to Theological Lectures....... 646
Invincible. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 573
PAGE
Invocation of Angels and Saints.........., 624
Irish Rebellion. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 324
Isaiah, Prediction of... . . . . . . . . ....... ... 419
“ vi., Expository Lectures on........ 398
“ Vision of... . . . . . . . . . . . . e tº e s tº ºn tº a º 398
Israel, “the Lord’s Son”. . . . . ... tº e º 'º e º e º & 414
“ Watchman of.................... 435
Israelites in the Wilderness........... ... 522
J.
Jehoshaphat. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... © e º e º ºs e e ... 521
Jerusalem, Destruction of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 556
JESUS—
“ Appearance of......... e e º e a s tº a s e e 87
“ Ascension of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 587
“ Author of Faith. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 507
“ Birth of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 412, 584
“ Burial of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 585
“ called a Nazarite. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 414
“ calling his Disciples. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 424
“ Crucifixion of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 585
“ Death of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 585
“ Descent of, into Hell. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 585
“ Finisher of Faith. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 507
“ Judge of the Quick and the Dead..... 589
“ King of the Jews. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 414
“ looking to. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 293, 507
“ Miracles of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 424
“ Name of, fragrant. . . . . tº e º e º ºs e º e e º 'º º 475
“ Name illustrated. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 413, 478
“ Pearl of great Price. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 430
“ Preaching of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 423
“ Preparation for. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 424
“ “Primum intelligibile”. . . . . . . . . . . . . 460
“ public Calling of...... tº º sº tº dº tº & e º e º 'º º 424
“ Resurrection of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76, 586
“ Revelation of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101
“ Rock of Salvation. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 431
“ Sitting at the right Hand of God. . . . . 587
“ Son of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * 584
“ Sufferings of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 585
“ Sun of Righteousness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88
“ Wisdom of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 443
Jewels of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136
Job. . . . . © e e s e º e s e º 'º e º & 8 s is a e e º ºs e s a s & 435, 493
John THE BAPTIST . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4.17
* Agreement of, with Christ. . . . . . . . . . 417
“ Course of Life of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 419
“ Doctrine of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 419
“ Habits of..... ge e º e de © e º e º te ſº tº e s a e e . 419
“ imprisoned. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 423
“ Office of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4.17
* Preacher of Repentance........ . . . . 418
“ Preaching of... . . . . . . . . . . . tº 9 s e º 'º e ſº 417
Jonah asleep. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 435
Joseph, directions to, from God....... . . . . . 412
“ Doubts of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 412
“ Dream by . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 412
“ Obedience of. . . . . . . . . . . . . © tº e º gº º & C & 412
Joshua. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 527
Joy of Christians. . . . . * g e º e º e g g ſº tº ſº tº ſº 82, 87, 91
66 66 Appropriation of... . . . . . . 88
&g £6 Causes of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92
6& &G Excellency of. . . . . tº e º e º e is 92
JUDGMENT. . . . . tº * * * * * e e e s e e s e g º 'º e º 'º º 269,322
66 by Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 589
66 Congruity of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 323
66 Equity of. . . . . . . . & e º tº e º 'º tº e º e e 322
6& Foresigns of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 324
& in the House of God. . . . . . . . ... 322
6& Mercy of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 323
INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
791
PAGE.
JUDGMENT of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 429
Ç6 “ Equity of . . . . . . . . . . . ... 109
Çg “ Exactness of . . . . . . . . . . . 109
6& “ Extent of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109
6& “ Impartiality of......... ... 109
£6 “ Universality of.......... 109
Ç6 the final. . . . . e ſº a tº º º e e e s e e º e e . 294
Judging of Men. . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º ºs e e . . . . . 429
$6 “ Absurdity of. . . . . tº e e º e º 'º º . 429
66 “Danger of... ... . . . . . . . . . . 429
Julian, the Apostate. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 426, 494
Justice of God . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º e º e º ºs e e s - 700
Justification. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66, 457
K.
Kempis. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 556
King of Terrors. . . . . . . . . . . e e s e o e º e º e s e e . 195
King-Craft. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * e e e º e e tº e º e º tº . 415
KINGDOM OF GoD. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 605
“ Blessings of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 606
66 Coming of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 606
66 Nature of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 605
“ Prayer for...... © e s tº e s is e e º e º 'º . 606
Kingdom of Heaven. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 418, 423
KNowLEDGE, Acquisition of, by Man. . . . . . . 699
66 COII, II,0ſl . . . . . . . . . • * g e e s tº e º 'º - 442
& & of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 461
66 of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 677
66 of the Divine Law . . . . . . . . . . 448
&6 of the Will of God. . . . . . . . . . . 288
& right. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113,474
<& spiritual. . . . . G. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e º ſº 160
knox, John. . . . . . . . . . . . . e e s e e º e e º e e º 'º e . 13
L.
“Lachrymer inanes”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 473
Lamb of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . e - © e º e e s e e º e . 412
Lauderdale. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . e e º ºs e º e e . 25, 26
& G Speech of... . . . . . e e º 'º e s is & © e e º e 7
Laughing Philosopher. . . . . . . . . . . © e e º e º º . 472
Laughter, Madness. . . . . tº e º e º & © e º s e e . . . . . 529
Laver of Regeneration. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
Law and Prophets. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 425
LAw, the—
“ Discovery of.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 620
“ drives us from Ourselves. . . . . . . . . . . . 620
“ Excellency of. . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 620
“ Exercise of Love....... © e ºs e º e º 'º º ... 619
“ given to Man . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 664
“ humbles us. . . . . . . . . . . • e º e º ºs e s tº e º E . 620
* Ministration of Death. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 620
“ of God. . . . . . . . • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * . 448
6& “ Height of the Original. . . . . . . . 489
&G “ Ignorance of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 474
66 “ Keeping of...... e tº 6 º' g º e º 'º ºt . 470
&ć “ Knowledge of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 448
66 “ Largeness of the Acting of.... 488
66 Ç6 6& “ Object of.... 488
“ Perfection of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 620
“ Judgment of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41
“ restrains the Wickedness of Men..... 621
“ Rule of Equity to Men....... . . . . . . . 631
“ Rule of Life. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 621
“ Rule of Piety to God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 631
“ Rules to understand. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 620
“ Spiritual Sense of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 426
* Tables of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 631
** Trial of Love. . . . . © e s - tº 8 . . . . . . . . . . 619
“ Writer of, on the Heart..... • ‘e e & © tº e º 562
“ written on the Heart. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 560
66 “ Necessity of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 563
PAGE.
Leading of the Spirit. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 421
League and Covenant of Scotland... . . . . . 31, 724
Lebanon. . . . . . . G. e. e. e º 'º e º 'º e s tº • * * * * * * * * * * . 137
Lecture on Romans xii. . . . . . . . .... . . . . . . . 404
Lectures— -
66 on Isaiah wi..... e e º e º e s º º e a tº e e 398
Ç6 on Psalm xxxix. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 385
66 on the Gospel by Matthew. . . . . . 411
Leighton, Alexander. . . . . . e tº º e º tº G & º & 8 * e a 7
LEIGHTON, ROBERT. . . . . . tº gº tº e º & & Gº tº º e e º º 7, 739
66 Abstinence of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39
66 Amiableness of... . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
66 Anecdotes of..... . . . . . 10, 39, 40, 46
66 Aphorisms of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
&Q Articles of, for a Union with the
Covenanters. . . . . tº e º e º e º & . . . 24
{& Attainments of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47
G& became a Prelate...... . . . . . . . 12, 14
6& “ Archbishop. . . . . . . . . . . 26
{{ Beneficence of... . . . . . e - e º e s sº 17
6 & Birthplace of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8
6& Character of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36, 47
66 Charges by . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * * * 20
G& College-Life of....... • * * e º e º a 8
6& • Consecration of, to the Prelacy... 18
G& Critical View of his Works.... 50–52
& Criticisms on Preaching, by.... 21
64 Death of..... © e a tº e º 'º e º e . . . . . 46
66 Definition of “ the Mark of the
Beast,” by . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
6% Deliverance of, from Drowning... 10
66 Denial by, of the Title, “LoRD !” 19
66 Discipline of. . . . . . . © e e º 'º e º 'º e º ºs 21
66 early Life of . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº gº tº 8
66 Ecclesiastical Constitution of... 32
6& Election of, as Presdent of the
University of Edinburgh..... 11
46 Enemy of monastic Seclusion... 36
6& Entrance of, on the Ministry... 9
6& Epitaph of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46
66 . Example of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39
66 Excellence of, in the Pulpit. ... 50
6& Fancy of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50
Çg Family of . . . . . . . . . . . e e º 'º - e. e. e. e. 7
6& Father of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e e s e e 7
G& Fondness for Music........... 44
& 4 Fraud upon. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10
© Frugality of. . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * 53
66 Garlands of, by Burnet........ 46,47
&G Generosity of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46
G& Hatred of Persecution, by.... , 40
Çg Humility of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
&G Income of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54
&é Indulgences of: . . . . . . . . . . . . 39
66 Interment of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46
&G Interview of, with Charles II... 22
CG Letter of, concerning the prelati-
&6 cal Dignity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16
{{ Letter to, from Charles II...... 45
G& Letters of... 16, 20, 32, 34, 38, 41, 42
. . . . . . . . . . . . 44, 45, 54, 57,761–767
&G Liberality of.... . . . . . . . . • e º ºs e & 4()
&&. Life of. . . . . . . . . . . . . tº a sº e º e º ºs e 7
& Love of rural Scenery, by . . . . . . 44
Ç6 Meeting of, with the Presbyte-
rians, at Holyrood-House..... 27
Çg Missions appointed by . . . . . . . . . 28
Ç6 Objections by, to the Office of
66 Prelate. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
6& Offers of Accommodation, by... 30
66 Opposed to Persecution. . . . . . . . 40
792
INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
PAGE.
LEIGHToN, Pedigree of... . . . . . . . . ........ 7
GG Piety of...... © e º 'º e s a tº º º te e º º º 38
& 4 Plan by, to purge the Church... 28
£& Pulpit Oratory of... . . . . . . . . ... 741
$6 Purity of... . . . . . • e e º 'º e º e º e º e 50
{& Refusal by, to sit in the Parlia-
ment. . . . . . . . . © e s e e e ... . . . . . 19
$6 Religious Abstraction of..... ... 38
6& Reordination of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17
$6 Residence of, in his See. . . . . . . . 19
66 Resignation of his Archbishop-
ric, by . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35,36
© & Speech of, for Reconciliation.... 29
(6. 66 on the Oath of Sã-
premacy. . . . . * c e º e e e º e e & tº tº gº e 19
a & Travels of..... tº º e º ſº º ſº e º e tº e º º 8
& C Treaty by, rejected. . . . . . . . . . . 30
{{ Views of, on ecclesiastical Polity 38
{& Visit of, to Lord Perth. ... . . . . . 45
G& Will of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53
•6 Withdrawment of, from his See 22, 35
& 6 Writings by..... & © e º e - © e º is º º . 48
Aetrovpyot 9eov. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 487
Leper, the . . . . . . . . tº t e º it s > * * * * e is tº e º º & 6 g º e 431
G6 Approach of, to Christ... . . . . . . . 431
66 Confidence of... . . . . . . e e º O & ſº e e 431
& 6 Cure of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * e s e e \ 432
66 Humility of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 431
&G Worship of Christ, by........... 431
Letter of James Mitchell. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11
“ to Leighton from Charles II. . . . . . . . 45
Letters of Leighton... 16, 20, 32, 34, 38, 41, 43–45
e e s e s e e e º e e . 54, 57, 761–767
Liberality of Heart. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © e º e s a tº 428
Liberty, human. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • * * * * * * * * * 678
“ of Events. . . . . . . . . & e e e s e e . . . . . . 493
* of the Will. . . . . . . . e e s e º e e º e º e º 'º 542
LIFE—
“ a long. . . . . . . . . . ſº º v c e º 'º e s gº tº e . . . . . . 226
“ Blessings of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 654
“ Brevity of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 389
“ Desire of. . . . . . . . sº e º e º 'º e º e e º e º e º ſº tº 397
“ Eternal. . . . . tº e s e e is e e º 'º tº e s tº e a . . . . . . 593
“ holy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * e e º e 732
“ Instructions for a holy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 732
“ of Believers, from God, through Christ 536
“ of Holiness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138
“ of John Knox. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
“ Periods of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 653
“ Purity of . . . . . . . . . • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 702
“ Rules for a holy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 732
“ spiritual. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 130
“ to come . . . . . . . . . . tº & e s e g º e º º . . . . . . 658
64 “ Happiness of. . . . . . . . ... . . . . . 659
“ to Righteousness. . . . . . . . tº e º 'º e º e s e º 196
“ with Christ. . . . . . . . . © e º e º 'º . . . . . . . . .317
Light, a Representation of Christ.......... 461
“ of God’s Countenance. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 526
“ of the Church. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 454
“ of the World. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 425
“ Likeness to God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 521
Limits about Mount Sinai. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 619
Living after the Flesh . . . . . . . • * * * * * • * * is e e 686
* Hope. . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * e e s e e s e e e 75
“ to God. . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * e s a e 291, 294
“ Waters, Fountain of... . . . . . . . . . ... 470
Long-Suffering of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . * * e s e e 268
Looking to Jesus. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 293, 507
LoRD, the—
& & Anger of. . . . . . . . e g º e s tº tº . . . . . . 237
&6 Ears of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231
º
PAGE.
LoRD, the Eyes of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 229
& & Face of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 230
&G Glory of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 462
66 Good Providence of.......... ... 231
£6 Love of... . . . . . . . . . & a tº e º e o e º e 231
€6 of Hosts. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 450
66 Service of... . . . . . . . . tº tº e º & © ... 409
66 Shield, the. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 463
&&. waiting for. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 380
Lord’s Day. . . . . . . . * * * * e s e º e º e o e º e s e e s e 631
“ Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 594
6% “ Brevity of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 597
64 “ Doxology to. . . . . . . . . tº sº sº e º ſº 617
G6 “ Necessity of... . . . . . . . . . . . . 594
& “ Order of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 597
&G “ Preface of the............. . 599
& “ prescribed. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 596
{{ “ Use of. . . . . . . . . . . . e e e e s tº e e 594
Lord’s Supper. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 644
66 “ Admission to. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 644
LOSS of the Soul. . . . . . . . . . . . • e ee e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. 464
LovE—
“ Brotherly. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213,408
66 &G Fervency of... . . . . . . . . . . . 116
Gé 46 Purity of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117
6& {& Sincerity of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116
* Characters of......... tº e e g º e º 'º e º e º tº 476
“ Evidence of Election........... . . . . 508
“ Fulfilling of the Law. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 560
“ grows by Opposition. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 514
“ Power of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 470, 478
Love in Christians—
& & & 4 Degree of... . . . . . . . 306, 407
66 66 Fruits of... . . . . . . . . . . . 306
6& & 6 Nature of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 300
66 {& Union of, with Prayer... 305
Love of Christ Inseparable............... 514
“ of Enemies. . . . . . . . . . . © e º e > - tº e º dº e e 426
“ of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157
“ of the Brotherhood. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175
“’ of Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . © e º sº tº e º e º e º e º e º & 448
“ of Vanity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 360
“ to Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . 89, 92, 197, 243, 476
66 46 Evidences of.... . . . . . . . . . . 480
“ to God. . . . . ....... 408, 470, 473, 487, 561
Loveliness of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . • * c e o e º e 476
Lovers of Pleasure. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 482
Loving Kindness of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 464, 467
66 6 & Assurance of. . . . . . . . . . . . 465
{& G& Participation of......... 468
66 Çg Time of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 469
Loving Kindness of the Lord.......... ... 525
Lucian. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 454
Luke, Gospel of . . . . . . . . . * * tº e º ºs e º e º ºs e e º ºs 411
Lust. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 489
“ making Provision for..... * e a e s e e º e a 522
Lustre of the Church..... * * * * * * * e s e e 454, 459
Lusts of Men. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105, 286
Luther. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 240
“ the Schoolmasters of.............. 421
Lying. . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * * * e e s e s e s e e a e . 638
M.
Macarii, the . . . . . . . . . 8 s tº e º s e e s e e º 'º & © e º e a 364
Mackenzie’s History of Scotland. . . . . . . . . . 23
Madness of Men. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 556
Magi, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 413
Magical Arts. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * 624
Magnanimity of Ministers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 579
Majesty of God.......... tº º e º e º e s a e e s e. e. e. 398
Malice. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126
INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
793
PAGE.
Malice of Satan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 436
MAN–
“ Creation of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 673
“ Dominion of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 675
“ Folly of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123, 54
“ Glory of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122
“ Image of God in. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 675
“ Liberty of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 678
“ on Earth a Sojourner and a Stranger... 396
“ Original Dignity of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 676
“ Structure of... . . . . . . © tº e º 'º tº e º is e º e e s 674
“ Vanity of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e e s is e 121,390
“ Vitiated Condition of... . . . . . . . . . . . . 676
“Manhood of God”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 411
Manner of Prayer. . . . . . . . e s a e e s tº ſº e º e º e . 597
Man’s Nature, Misery of.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 482
Mantle of Christ’s Righteousness. . . . . . . . . . 458
“Mark of the Beast”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
Marriage. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 202
Martyr’s Answer to the Emperor. . . . . . . . . . 498
Marvellous Doctrine of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . 431
Masters of Arts, Exhortations to... . . . . . . . 708
Matter of Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . . . 597
Matthew, Call of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 438
66 Gospel by, Lectures on...... . . . . 411
M“Crie's Life of John Knox. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
Measure of our Days. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 389
Meditation. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 421
MEDITATIONs—
G6 on Psalm iv. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .357
&ć on Psalm xxxii. . . . . ... . . . . . . 365
& C on Psalm crxx. . . . . . . . . . . . . 370
Meekness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 239, 250, 425
66 of Ministers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 578
Meeting at Holyrood-House. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27
Melchisedec. . . . . . * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * . "363
MEN–
“ base and brutish. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 436
“ held by God. . . . . . . . . . e e s tº e e s tº e º 6 tº 416
“ Madness of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº tº º e a tº e º e 556
* Wickedness of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 515
Mercy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º e e 442,700
“ despised. . . . . & e º ſº e º e e º ºs e º 'º º & . . . . . . 545
“ of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76, 158, 548, 700
“ Seat, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 160
Merit of good Works. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 376
Message from God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e g tº . 402
Messiah, the . . . . . . . . . . . . e e o e e s e º 'º e s s e e . 478
Meum and Tuum............... . . . . . . . . . 489
Middleton, character of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
Milk of the Word. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 129
“ pure. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 128
“ rational. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 130
Milky Way. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 459
Mind, Moderation of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 428
“ of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . tº tº e e s e & e º e º e 285
MINISTERS OF THE CHURCH. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 311
66 Fidelity of..... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 578
66 Friends with God.... . . . . . . . . . 578
66 humble. . . . . . . . . . . ..... . * * * g e ge 578
66 Magnanimity of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 579
6& meek. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 578
66 not earthly-minded. . . . . . . . . . . . 578
&&. Piety of....... tº º e º e º ºs e º as e º is tº e 577
& & privy Trials of... . . . . . tº º ſº tº º º . . 729
£6 Prudence of. . . . . . . . . tº e º 'º - sº e º º 578
& righteous. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 578
€6 Strengtheness of the Brethren. . 577
Ministry of Reconciliation....... . . . . . . . . . 575
66 66 Duties of the.... 577
66 6& Pretenders to the 576
PAGE
Ministry of Reconciliation, Qualifications for
e. . . . . . . . . . 579
Miraculous Works of Christ. . . . . . . & e e s tº e is 431
Miser of Athens. . . . . . . . . . . . & e º 'º e º 'º e g º º . 320
Misery of Man’s Nature............ . . . . . 482
“ of Sinners. . . . . . . & de e º 'º e s e e . . . . . . . 157
“ of the Lost. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 433
Mission of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 440
Mistakes concerning Faith. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 143
66 66 the Sacraments, ...... 273
Mitchell, James, Letter by........ * - - - - - - - 11
Moderate Episcopacy, Defence of.......... 723
Moderation. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .... . . . . . 429, 441
66 of Mind. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 428
Mohammed's Mountain..... tº e e º e s tº º te e s tº º 154
Morality. . . . . . . . . . . . . & e o e e s e e tº e e s is e e s º ºs 443
Mordecai. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e e º ºs e º 'º 642
Motives to Obedience.......... & e s e º e º e > . 621
Mount Sinai, Limits around. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 619
Mundus immundus..... e is e º e s e e º e is is e º º º . 471
Murder. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº g º is e º 'º tº e º 'º e º ſº º º . 426
Mutual Subjection. . . . . . . . dº º e º ºs & ſº A tº e º 'º º , 335
Mystery of Faith. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 581
“ of Godliness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 584
“ of the Trinity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 582, 664
Mystical Babylon. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 445
N.
Name of God, Use of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 629
“ of Jesus, Fragrancy of. . . . . . . . . . . . . 475
Naphtali. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e e º ºs & tº dº e º ſº tº e º & 11
Nathaniel. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 438
Natural Corruption. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 481
Nature of Man, Misery of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 483
Nazarite. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 414
Nazianzen. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 421
Nearness to God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 260
66 “ Privation of... . . . . . . . . ... 261
66 “ Restoration to . . . . . . . . . ... 261
Necessity and Providence. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 679
“ Cord of... . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º e º e 485
“ of Events. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 493
“ of Suffering. . . . . . . . . . * * * e s e s e º e 254
Neginoth. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 357
Neighbor, Love of... . . . . . . . tº e º & © º ºs e º e º sº 562
Nest of Fools. . . . . tº e º 'º e tº tº º & Cº $ tº ſº ſº º ºs e º ºs 523, 537
New Birth. . . . . . . . . . . . . . e e e º e º e º sº e º 'º e º gº 125
Newborn Babes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126
New Creation. . . . . tº e s is s º tº e º e º e . . . . . . . . . 681
Nimbleness in the Ways of God. . . . . ... . . . 508
Noah. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 268
“ Obedience of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 270
“ Saving of. . . . . gº tº e. e. e. e. tº e º u e º º º e º e º e º 271
Nourishment. . . . . . . . . . e e º e º e º e tº º e º ºs º º ... 127
O.
Oath of Supremacy in Scotland. . . . . . . . . ... 19
Oaths, Multiplication of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 743
OBEDIENCE. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 63, 67, 105, 404
66 and Grace. . . . . . e e º e e º e e º ºs e º 'º 505
66 for Conscience” Sake. . . . . . . . . . 486
66 of Faith. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 145
Obedience of Heaven. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 607
66 66 Cheerfulness of... . . . 608
&6 66 flows from Reverence
and Love. . . . . . . . . 621
&G ( & Harmony of. . . . . . . . . 609
&6 66 Motives to the . . . . . . . 621
66 K& on Earth, prayed for... 609
66 66 Unanimity of. . . . . . . . 609
66 66 Universality of... . . . 608
100
794
INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
PAGE.
Obedience of Noah. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 270
66 to God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 505
6& “ Activity of... . . . . . . . . . . 508
66 “ Alacrity of.... . . . . . . . . . 508
G& “ Constancy of . . . . . . . . . . . . 508
66 to Parents. . . . . . . tº sº e º & sº º º e º 'º º . 632
&6 to the Gospel. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 325
Object of Love. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 561
Objects of preaching the Gospel . . . . . . . . . . 296
Obligations from the Example of Christ. ... 185
& 4 to God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 622
Observation of Providence. . . . . * e s e º e a e s e a 523
G& 66 Character of.... 524
66 66 Privilege of..... 525
Q & 66 Wisdom of...... 524
Offering of Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232
Offices in the Church. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 407
Ointment, precious, a Symbol of Christ. . . . . 476
“Old Man,” the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126
Olympic Games. . . . . . . . . . . . . © e g º ºs e º 'º º º ... 507
Operation of the Word of God. . . . . . . . . . 131,500
Opposition to Sim. . . . . . . © e. e. e. e. e. e º 'º e s o e s e e 225
Oracles of God. . . . . . . . . . . . * e s s e e < e < e e ... 311
Oration, valedictory. . . . . . . . . . . . . & e s e e e º e 721
Order of Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 597
Ostentation. . . . . . . . • * * * * * * tº e e º e s tº e . . . . . 442
- P.
TIaxty yeweata . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * @ n e e º e a q e º e a 683
Palsy, the Man sick of the...... * * * > * * * * * 436
IIavečia. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • * * * * * c e s e e e s s e e e 638
Parable of the Sower. . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * . 500
Pardon prayed for. . . . . © e º e º e e . . . . . © a e e º e 613
Parents, Obedience to. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 632
TIapoikot. . . . . º tº e º e º * * * * * * * * * e e e e s e e a e s e 518
Partakers of Glory . . . . . . . . . . . . , e º e º º tº ... 330
Paths of Righteousness. . . . . . . . . . . & B e. e. e. e - 236
PATIENCE. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..... 63, 184
{g in Suffering. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 185
6& in Tribulation. . . . . . . e e s tº s e g º O & 409
Çg of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 186
Çg of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 548, 557
6& of the Saints. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 492
Patient Sufferer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 446
Payment of Debts. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 487
** of Tribute. . . . . . . . * * * * * * e s e e a e e 486
Peace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 71
“ Christian. . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º 'º e ſº & e º a 2 & 356
“ Ecclesiastical. . . . . tº º e º 'º e º e º º • . . . . . . 73
“ Seeking of..... e e º 'º e a * * * * * e s s e e a e e s 226
“ Sons of . . . . . . . . . . . • * * * * * * * * e º e s e ... 314
Pearl of Great Price..... * c e º e º e e s c e s s a e e 430
Peculiar People. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148
“Pelagus aquarum”...... . . . . © e s e º e e º e . . 472
People of God. . . . . . . . . . . . • * * * * * * * * g º e . . 158
Perfect Tranquillity..... & e º e s e e s e e º e º e º e 659
Perfecting of Holiness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 504
Perfection and Imperfection. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 527
&ć imperfect. . . . . . . . . . . . . . & e s e º e e 67
66 of Christians......... e Gº e e º 'º e º e 3.48
66 of Holiness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 106
Ç6 threefold . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
Performance of Redemption. . . . . . . . . . . . ... 114
Peripatetic Philosophers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 671
Perjury . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * * * e s e e . . 639
Persecuted Christians. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 242
Persecution. . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 240
Perseverance in Grace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 348
66 in Prayer. . . . . tº e º e º º tº g e º º . . 430
Persian Soldier. . . . . . . . . e e º e º is e º e º e º e e º e 365
Persius. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 363
PAGE.
Pestilence of 1665. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 282
PETER—
“ a Copresbyter. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .329
“ Desire of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72
* Inscription by..... tº e º 'º e º e º ſº e º 'º º . . . 63
“ Office of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64
“ Salutation by . . . . . & e º e º 'º tº e º e e º e º & . 63
“ Title of . . . . . . . . . . * * e e s e e e s e e º 'º e e 64
“ Wife’s Mother of . . . . . . . . . e e º e º 'º - ... 433
& 4 €6 “ cure of... . . . . . . . . . . . 433
. Peter Martyr... . . . . & e º 'º e º e e e s . . . . . . . . . . . 435
(Pavraguas . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * * * e s a e a e º 'º º 519
Pharisees, vain glory of........... e e s a º º . 427
Philosopher’s Stone....... tº c e g c e s e e º 'º e º 'º 486
‘poovnua. . . . . . . . ‘.................. . . . . 481
Piety of Ministers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . . 577
Pilgrims . . . . . . . • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 163
Pious Invocation... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 595
Pity . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * * * * * * s e e º o v c s e 214
Platonists, notions of..... & e º e g º e º e º 'º º . . . 672
Pleasure, Lovers of... . . . . . - e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e º º 'º º 482
Pleasures in the World . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 529
“ of Religion..... tº e s a c e s e e º e º e º 'º 666
TIAeovešta . . . . . . . . . . . * e º e e o e s e e e r s e º e º 'º e 638
Plutarch . . . . . . . . . . . . . © e e º ºs e e a e o 0 ° . . . . . 346
“Polar Splendor” the..... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57.1
Politian. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 365
Pollution of Sin..... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66
Poverty of Spirit.................. • * * * * * 425
PoweR ascribed to God.......... e e º e º e e a 354
“ of God... . . . . . . . . . e - e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e º º 81,700
“- of Jesus. . . . . . . . & © tº e º 'º e º e º e º e º ºs e 436
“ of Religion. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 686
“ of Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 198, 562
Praise . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • * * * * c e º 'º g º e ... 138
Praise of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..... 353, 617
KG “ Tirections for the... . . . . . . . . 354
Praises to God... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 484
PRAYER. . . . . . . . 209, 228, 372, 421, 427, 428,430
“ Acceptance of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e 232
“ Answers to. . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º ºr º e º 'º º 234
“ Art of . . . . . . . . . . . . . & e º e º e º e º e - e. . 541
“ Babbling in . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 428
“ Blessings of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232
“ Breathing of Hope. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 619
“ Brevity in . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 597
* Confidence in. . . . . . . . to º & t e e º e º e e e 602
“ Continuance in . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 410
“ Delight in.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232
“ Described . . . . . e e º e s e º e s e e e s a . . . . .298
“ Dignity of... . . . . . . . . 232, 236, 299, 595
“ Disappointment in... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228
“ Duty of ..... e e s e e e º e º 'º e e 232, 235, 595
“ Effects of..... e ſº e º & tº ſº º ſº tº º e º e ... .. 300
“ Ejaculatory...... © º º Gº & © tº e º e º e º e º º º 291
“ Elevation of Soul in. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 602
“ Equity of...... º e º te e º e º s e e > * > * * * * 299
“ Exercise of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232
“ Faith in....... tº e º e º O & e º º e . . . . . . . 396
“ Fervency of...... © tº e e s e e 234, 395,430
“ for Daily Bread. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 610
6& 66 comprises Godliness,
Moderation, Piety,
and Soberness.... 611, 612
“ for Deliverance from Temptation... 616
“ for Pardon. . . . . . e & e e e º e s tº . . . . . . . 612
“ Form of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . & ſº e º e < e º e 596
“ Formality in. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 430
“ Graces of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 234
“ Hearing of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232, 234
“ Hindrances to...... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 209
INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
795
Prayer, Humble Boldness in..... tº ºn s a e c e s e e 602
“ Humility in . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 395
“ Importunity in . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 396
“ Manner of . . . . . . . . . . . . . e e e e e º e º 'º 596
“ Matter of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 597
“ of the Saints. . . . . e g º e e º 'º º e º 'º º e s ∈ tº 138
** Order of . . . . . º e s a e s e º e e . . . . . . . . . 597
“ Perseverance in. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 430
* Precautions before..... tº e º e º 'º º e º º . 233
“ Qualifications for. . . . . . . . tº e º ſº º tº e º & 232
* Slothfulness in. . . . . . . e e º 'º e s tº e . . . . 234
** Strength of... . . . . tº e º º is ſº e º ºs e º 'º º ſº º 541
“ Utility of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 299, 595
“ Wanderings in... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 233, 541
“ Way to offer...... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232
Prayers...702, 708, 709, 711, 713, 714, 716, 717,
e a e º ſº e s tº t e º e º e e . 719, 721, 722, 734, 735
Preacher of Righteousness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . , 268
Preachers, Ensamples. . . . . . . . . * e s m e º e º ſº e 333
&G Reward of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 334
PREACHING— *
66 Ambition in . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 333
64 and Baptism. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 417
&6 Constrainedness of . . . . . . . . . . . . . 332
66 Covetousness respecting. . . . . . . . 333
66 Criticism on by Leighton. . . . . . . 21
66 Exemplary Temper in. . . . . . . . . . 332
6& of Christ. ........ sº tº ſº e º 'º e e s e e º 'º 266
66 of the Gospel. . . . . . . . . . 294, 311, 479
66 Gé Object of....... 296, 312
66 Qualities of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.11
& © Ready Mind for...... tº e g º º ºs e º e 332
66 Willingness for. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 332
Precautions before Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 233
PRECEPTs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 619
&6 Preface to . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º º . . . . . 620
66 Division of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 622
66 Excellency of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 620
66 Perfection of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 621
C& rofit of... . . . . . . & sº º e e º 'º º ºs e º & . 622
66 Style of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 622
Precept I. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 622
66 Command of..... tº e º e º & * * * * * * * 623
“ Profaneness forbidden by . . . . . . . . 624
66 Prohibitions of... . . . . . . . . . . . . ; 624
66 Scope of . . . . . . . . . . tº a tº e º 'º e º e º g 623
66 Sense of. . . . . . . . . . . . º, e e s ∈ tº 623
66 Sins against . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 623
Precept II. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ...... . . . . . . . . . 625
66 Commands of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 626
66 Enforcement of................. 627
66 Prohibitions of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 626
&G Tenor of . . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . 625
Precept III. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © e º a n e º e . . . . . 627
66 Commands of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 629
66 Commination of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 628
66 Contents of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 627
66 Prohibitions of . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . 628
Precept TV... . . . . . . . . . & ſº º ſº º is ſº e º ſº. tº e e s p as e 629
6& Obedience of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 629
66 Observance of ............. .... 631
&&. Reason of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 629
66 Scope of. . . . . © e º s e a 9 @ 9 s e e º ºs e e e 629
. &c. Violations of....... & e º e º 'º e º e º º 631
Precept W. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 631
&&. Commands of . . . . . . e e º 'º e º e º ſº tº e 632
PAGE.
Precept VI. . . . . . . . • * - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 633
66 Improvement of..... • . . . . . . . . 634
66 Requisitions of................ 633
66 Scope of . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * c e e . 633
Precept VII. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • * * * * * * * e e e s e 634
66 Rules of.... . tº e º 'º º e º 'º º e . . . . . . . 635
Precept VIII. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * e s e º 'º e g 636
& 4 Requirements of............... 637
Ç6 Sins against. . . . . * tº e º 'º e . . . . . . . . 638
Precept IX. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº º is a º º e º º e º º º 638
66 End of....... tº e º ºs º e º e º º gº & © e º ºs 638
66 Offences against.......... . . . . . 640
Gé Perjury condemned by.......... 639
66 Meaning of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 631
66 Obedience to Parents enforced by 632
G& Order of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 631
&G Prohibitions of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 632
66 Promise of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 631
66 Prohibitions of..... tº e º ſº tº dº tº e º ºs . 639
Precept X. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 640
&G Observance of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 642
& Romish division of ..... • * * * * * * * 640
& Subjects of........ . . . . . . . . . . . . 641
66 Transgressions of........ ..... 641
Preciousness of Christ.......... © tº e º 'º e º e ºs 147
Preface by Doddridge........ e e º 'º e º 'º º º . . . 59
“ to Theological Lectures........... 645
Preference of others. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 408
Prelačy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 724
Preparation for the Communion........... 704
66 of the Ark....... . . . . . . . . . . . 270
& 6 of the Heart...... . . . . . . . . . . . 233
Presbyterian Eloquence displayed......... 50
Presence of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 457, 459
&G God. . . . . . . . . . . . e e º e s tº e º e e º e 701
Present Duty. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * * * * 558
Preservation of the Godly........... . . . . . 271
Pretences to Faith. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 144
Pretenders to the Ministry............ . . . 576
Pride of Man . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123
Priesthood, Christians a Holy..... 134, 137, 148
& 6 Spiritual . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137
“Primum visibile” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 460
Prison of Hell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 424
Prison, Spirits in the . . . . . * = e s e e º e e e ... 265, 267
Privilege of observing Divine Providence... 525
Privileges of the Children of God . . . . . . . ... 342
66 Spiritual . . . . . . * * * * * e e s is e º e º e 535
Privy Trials of Ministers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 729
Profanation of the Lord’s Day. . . . . . . . . . . . 604
66 of the Name of God.......... . 603
Profane Speech. . . . . . . . . . . * @ e º & e º e º sº e ... 220
Profaneness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * & & © º º 624
Profitable Discourse. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 223
Progress in Grace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 348
Promises, Application of... . . . . . . . © tº e º e º º 133
“ Belief of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133
“ of God . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 504
“ to Holiness....... * * * * e e o 'º e e s e e 505
Prophecy, fulfilment of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 423
&G of Balaam. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 414
Prophets and Law. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 425
“ Benefits of....... * @ e º & © tº º e e g º e e 98
“ Diligence of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97
“ Extent of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98
“ False. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * s e e s e 431
“ Search by . . . . . . . . . . . * e º 'º e º e e º s 97
“ Success in. . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº ſº e s tº e e 98
Propitiatory, the..... tº e a e º e º e º 'º e º e º e e s ſº . 366
Prosperity of Fools . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 250
“ of the Ungodly. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 465
Protection of God. . . . . . . . . . . • * * * * * is e e s s a 241
Proud, resistance to the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 337
Providence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 450, 665
66 Belief in . . . . . . . tº e º e º ºs e is . . . . . . .342
66 Observation of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 523
796
INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
PAGE.
Providence of the Lord . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231
Prudence of Ministers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 578
Psalm iv., Meditations on. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 357
* xxxii. 66 • * g º e e º e º e º e º ºs º º 365
“ xxxix. Lectures on . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 385
“ cxxx. Meditations on........ . . . . . . 370
Punishment, eternal. . . . . © a s g c e º e º 'º . . . . . . 690
Pure Conscience. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 581
Purgation of Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . . © tº e e s a a e s e a 400
Purification. . . . . . . . . . • e e e º e e s e e s e e º e s e e 66
Purifying Faith. . . . . © e º e e º e º & ºn s e º e º & & © . . 144
Purity in Heart. . . . . . . e & e º e º 'º - © a e e * G - © e > 425
“ of action. . . . . . . . . • * * * * * ~ * * * * * * * * * 441
“ of God. . . . . . . tº s a e s e º & © e º 'º e º e º e a e 443
“ of Life. . . . . . . . . . . tº es e º e º e e s p → e º e . 702
Purpose of Redemption. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113,440
Purveyors for the Flesh. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 522
“Put on the Lord Jesus”. . . . . 9 * * * e º e . 521, 523
Pythagoras . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • * * * * * g º º . 362
Q.
Qualifications for Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232
6& of Brotherly Love. . . . . . . . . . 1 16
& 4 of Ministers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 577
Qualities of Preaching. . . . . . . . . . . . . © e º e º e 311
Quickening of Christ by the Spirit......... 264
R.
Readiness of Chrstiains. . . . . & e º e º e e is . . . . . 250
Reading of the Scriptures. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 730
Ready mind for Preaching. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 333
Rebecca. . . . . . . . . . . . tº tº e a º gº e tº e º & e º 'º . . . . . 336
Rebel against God. . . . . . . . . e e º e º ºs e º e º e º ſº 481
Rebukes from God. . . . . . . . . . . º e º e º ºs e º e º º 394
Receiving of the Truth. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 288
Reconciliation, Ministry of... . . . . . . . . . . . . 575
& 4 with God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73
Redemption, Application of... . . . . . . . . . . . . 114
66 Object of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 440
&6 Performance of . . . . . . . . . . . . . 114
66 Purpose of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113
Reformation, external.... . . . . º e º s e s tº e º 'º e ºs 253
Regeneration, Character of..... & © e º s e 118, 681
& 6 Dignity of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121
66 Duration of... . . . . . . . . . . . . 121
66 Laver of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
& & Necessity of... . . . . . . . . . . . . 687
& 4 Origin of . . . . . . . . e tº a e º 'º e . . 121
6& Seed of........ • e º 'º e º s e e a s 121
Rejection of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 146
Rejoicing in God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * - © e º sº 534
“ in Hope. . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º 'º e º ºs e ge 409
“ of Christians. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .316
Relation between Sobriety, Watchfulness,
and Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 301
Religion, Enemies of......... tº e º e º ºs e º e º gº 251
“ False. . . . . . . © tº e º e º & e º e º º & º e º e º & 443
“ Identity of........ * * * * * * * * * e s e e 252
* Pleasure of.............. . . . . . . 666
“ Power of... . . . . . . . . . . . . * c e º e º e 686
“ Rules of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 700
“ Sense oſ, universal ......... . . . . 660
“ Utility of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 666
“ Way to Happiness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 690
Religious Delay . . . . . . . . . . . © e º e º e * * * e s e e 434
6 & “ Excuses for. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 434
Remedy for Evil Speaking. . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . 221
Remission of Sins. . . . . . . e e e º 'º e º 'º e º e º e º e . 394
Removal of Guiltiness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200
Renouncing of Baptism. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27
Repentance . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 368, 394, 418
8 | SANCTIFICATION .
66
PAGE.
Repentance and Deliverance. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 518
66 Effects of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 420
66 Fruits of . . . . . * e a e e º 'º e s s e s e º 'º. 419
66 Preaching of . . . . . . . © º e º a tº 418, 423
Reproach for Christ. . . . . e e s a e e º º e º B & e e º a 318
Resistance to the Proud. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 337
66 to the Devil. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 346
Resolution . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103
Rest and returning. . . . . . . . . . . . . e e e s tº e º ... 546
Restoration to Happiness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200
Resurrection of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 276,280
4% of Jesus. . . . . . . . . . . tº e s tº a º . 76,586
66 of the Body. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 593
66 Spiritual. . . . . . . . . . "... • * * * * * * * * 685
Return to the Right Way. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200
Returning and Rest. . . . . . . . . . . . . © e s e º 'º - a 546
Revelation of Jesus Christ. . . . . © º & © tº gº º tº º º 101
Revenge. . . . . . . . . . . . . * * e e s e º e s e e s & e e 217,426
Reverence in Preaching. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.11
Reverence of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 629
Reviling. . . . . . . . . . . . . • * * * * * * * * * e s e a º 285, 426
Riches . . . . . . . . . . . . . G s tº e º e º e s e e s a tº e º e º e 528
“ of God’s Grace. . . . . . . . . . . . © e is e º e º e 483
Righteous, the . . . . . . . . * tº e º ſº e º e º 'º e e s tº e º 'º . 227
Righteousness, Life to . . . . . . . . . • * e º e e s e . . 196
66 of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 458
6& Paths of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 236
6& Sacrifices of..... & e º e s a e 138, 362
{{ to Men . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º c 631
Riot, excess of... . . . . . . • * * * * * * & º 'º e º e º e . . 292
Rioting. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 520
“Rivers of Waters”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 471
Romanists at Douay. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .... 746
Romans xii., Lecture on...... . . . . . . . . . . . . 404
Rome, Mother of Abominations........... . 170
“ Sin of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 577
“ Superstitions of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 170
Royal Priesthood . . . . . • e e e º e º e s e e e e s tº e º 'º 453
Royalty of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 414
Rule of Equity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 430
“ of Holiness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • a s e º 'º e 240
Rules for a Holy Life. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 732
“ for Evil Speaking ..... e e ºs e º e º e º e º & 251
jº S.
Sabbath Day, Sanctification of... . . . . . . . . , 629
Sacrament, a light. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 417
£6 Description of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 273
&6 Mistakes concerning.......... 274
Sacrifice of Ourselves, Body and Soul, to God
through Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . “139, 140
Sacrifices of Righteousness........ 138, 139, 362
Sad condition of Man. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 515
£6 Cause of it. . . . . . . . . . . . ... .. 518
Sad Supposition. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 532
Safety of Grace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . e e º e º & 337
SAINTs—Blessedness of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70
& 6 Communion of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 591
& & Company of. . . . . . © e º º e º e e o ºs e s - tº 256
&&. Courage of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 492
&G Delight of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 525
G& Example of . . . . . . . tº e º e º & . . . . . . . 256
K6 Patience of..... © e º e º e s e e s p * * * * * 492
{& Prayers of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138
Sallust . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 251
Salt of the Earth. . . . . . . e e º e s e º is e º 'º - © e . . 425
Salutation by Peter. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . e 63
Salvation. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70, 91, 95
“ of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 549
© e º e º e º º º
Means of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117
INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
797
PAGE.
Sanctification—Nature of................. 118
£6 Seat of........ tº e º e º e º e º 'º e 117
66 Worker of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 118
Sanctifying of God in the Heart. . . . . . . . . . . 243
&G of God’s Name. . . . . tº ſe tº e º 'º e º ſº tº 603
Sarah. . . . . . . © e º e º e º e º 'º e * * * * * e s e e º 'º e º e s e 207
“ Daughters of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 207
Satan, a Liar....... & e º e º & tº º tº e º e e º 'º . . . . . 422
“ Malice of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 436
“ Slaves of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 505
“ Strongholds of... . . . . . . tº e º e º 'º • . . . . 504
Saving of Noah.......... tº gº º e º e º ºs e º 'º e º 'º º 271
Savior. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . e e º e º 'º s ºn e 680
“ Administration of the . . . . . . . . . . . . . • 424
“ Public Calling of the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 423
Schoolmasters of Luther. . . . . © e e e i º e s & e s e 421
Scotland, Prelacy in . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * 724
66 State of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29
£6 “ during the Commonwealth 745
Scottish assertory Act . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26
“ Indulgence. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26
“ League and Covenant..... tº e º e º 'º • 31
“ Oath of Supremacy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19
“ Prelacy, Scheme of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18
* Presbyterian Eloquence displayed... 50
Scribes, cavils of................... . . . . . 437
SCRIPTURE—Abuse of................... 423
66 Character of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 697
66 Cited by the Devil. . . . . . . . . . . 422
66 Divinity of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 696
6& Doctrine of . . . . . * e s e e s a e e s e e 697
Çg Evidences of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 696
66 Harmony of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 411
66 Reading of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 730
66 Style of . . . . . tº e º e º ſº tº e º 'º e º 'º e º 697
66 Sublimity of................. 697
G& Testimony to... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 697
66 Use of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . , 423
66 Word of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 460
Secrecy in doing good.................... 427
Secret of State...... tº e e º e º º 'º & © º e s e e s s e g tº 439
Seed of the Word . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 500
Seeking of Peace ....................... 226
“ the Kingdom of God..... ſº e º e º e º º º 429
Seers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e a tº e º 'º a º º 444
Self-cleansing . . . . . . . . . © & e g e º c e º 'º e º º e º e ºs 503
Self-deception ........... tº e º 'º dº ſº e º 'º * e e º ſº gº 431
Self-denial. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 405
Self-examination.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 336
Self-love . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 305, 449
Self-righteousness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 425
Seneca. . . . . . . . . . . . . ........ 128, 366, 370, 498
Sense of Religion universal . . . . . . . . . . . . . 660
“ of the Law. . . . . . . . . e e º e º e º is e e º e º ºs 426
Separation from God by Sin...... . . . . . . . . . 518
SERMONS . . . . . . . . . tº e s e e e º e º e º 'º e s sº e a . 441–580
66 Believer, the, a Hero............ 495
& 6 Calamities Interpreted........... 554
66 Christ the Light and Lustre of the
Church. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 454, 459
66 Christian Triumph..... & © tº e º ſº 509, 512
66 Confession of Faith............ . 550
66 Confidence of Faith....... tº e º e º º 531
66 Contempt Punished. . . . . . . . . . . . . 545
66 Divine Glory of Sion, the . . . . . . . . 450
66 Docile Sufferer, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . 446
G& Folly of Man, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 541
& Generous Grief. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 470
66 God’s End and Design in Affliction 564
6& Goodness of God ... . . . . . . . . . . . . 513
66 Grace and Obedience. . . . . . . . . . . . 505
PAGE.
Sermons—Grapes from Thorns. . . . . . . . . . . . 490
6% Heavenly Wisdom.............. 441
66 Holiness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 503
66 Hope amid Billows............. 464
66 Imperfection. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 527
66 Law the, written upon the Heart 562
{& Love the fulfilling of the Law. ... 560
& 4 Mercy despised. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 545
66 Name the, of Jesus fragrant. . . . . 475
66 Observation of Providence. . . . . . 523
€6 Parable of the Sower. . . . . . . . . . . 500
6& Patient Sufferer, the . . . . . . . . . . . . 446
66 Perfection. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 527
&G Prayer of Faith. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 550
66 Present Duty. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 558
&G Sinner the, a Rebel against God... 481
&G Spiritual Privileges. . . . . . . . . . . . . 535
&G Suitable Exercise in Affliction. ... 569
46 Teaching of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 541
6 & Time to Awake . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 519
6& To the Clergy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 574
66 True Christian a, the best Subject 484
& & Wickedness of Man. . . . . . . . . . . . 515
Serpentine Wisdom . . . . . . . . tº dº º ſº tº º e º e º ºs e º 'º 442
Servants. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 178
“ Duty of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 179
G6 “ extent of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 180
66 “ Principle of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181.
“ of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 172
Service of the Lord. . . . . . . . . tº e º e º e º e º e º 'º º 409
“ of the World . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 428
&G “ fruitless. . . . . . . . . . . ... 429
66 “ impossible for a Christian 428
66 “ needless. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 428
66 “ Unworthiness of . . . . . . . 428
Servile Fear . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 177
Settling of Christians. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 348
Shadow of Death. . . . . * * * * * * * * * * * * * * e s e e 423
Sharp, Character of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
Shechem, Men of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 486
Shechinah. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 539
Shining of the Church. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 457
Ç6 66 Constancy of........ 458
46 & 6 Humbleness of . . . . . . 458
&6 £6 Progression of..... ... 458
Short Catechism. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 643
“Shot Proof”. . . . . . . . . . . & e e s s e º e © e tº e º º ºs 463
Signs of Christ’s Royalty. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 417
Simplicity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 442
SIN–and Calamity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 518
“ and Ignorance. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105
“ and Impenitence. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 565
* Bearing of by Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 193
“ Cessation from . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . 284
“ Chains of... . . . . . dº º ºs º e º ſº tº tº º sº e º 'º gº tº e 285
“ Confession of... . . . . . . . . • * * * * * * * * * . 369
“ Covering of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 366
“ Death to . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 193
“ Deformity of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .... 396
“ Drudgery of... . . . . . . . . . . e tº e º e º e e º ſº 172
“ Forgiveness of... . . . . . . . . . . . 437, 440, 592
“ Guiltiness of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 562
“ Nature of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º e 472
“ of Germany. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 577
“ of Rome. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 577
“ of the Heart...... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 641
* Opposition to... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 225
** Pollution of. . . . . . gº º . . . . . . . . . . . . 66
** Power of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 562
“ Purged. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 400
66 Stain of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66
798
INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
PAGE.
Sin—the Cause of Affliction. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 565
“ Transfer of to Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191
“ Wages of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 172
“ Weight of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190
Singleness of Heart. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 427
Sinner, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 481
“ a Rebel . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 484
“ a Wandering Sheep. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199
“ Wretched State of..... e e º 'º º º • . . . . . 440
Sinners, Comfort of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 440
“ Dead. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © º e º 'º e º 'º . . . . 157
“ Misery of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157
Sins, Forgiveness of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 592
“ of the Tongue . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 387
“ of the Ungodly. . . . . . . e e s e a e s e e s e º e . 471
Sitting of Jesus at the Right Hand of God. 587
Slaves of Satan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e e º sº a . 505
Sleep and Death. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 456
“ Arising from . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 456
“ Avoiding of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 700
“ Brother to Death. . . . . . . . . . . e e º e º e º 0. 519
“ of Impenitence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 456
Slothfulness in Business. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 408
& 4 in Prayer . . . . . tº e s e s a e e e º e s e e 234
“Small Stars”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 458
Sobriety. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 102, 301, 344, 700
Society, Choice of...... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 222
“ of Heaven . . . . . . . . . . . tº º, e º e º e º ºr e º 659
Softness of Heart. . . . . . . . . e e e s e º 'º e s a e º a e 474
Solemn League and Covenant. . . . . . . . . . 31, 724
Solomon. . . . . . * - e º e - e Q e º 'º e a e e s e e e a e º º 449, 507
Sons of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 505
“ of Peace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © & © & G G & . 314
Sophocles. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © e º 'º e º 'º º e º º º ... 443
20%poovun. . . . . . . . . . . & Q & e º e . . . . . . . . . . . . . 701
Sorrows of Christians........ . . . . . . . . . . . 82
“ of the Godly..... Q tº e º ſe e º e º 'º º º ... 472
Soul, the Committed to God............... 326
“ Ground of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © tº e º 'º e e 328
“ Immortality of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 655
* Loss of..... © e º e º e º e e º a s tº ſº e º e º 'º - . . 464
“ Tumult of . . . . . © º gº tº e º 'º . . . . . . . . . . . . . 416
Soul—Filthiness........ © º º ºs e º e º º . . . . . . . 279
Sower, the Parable of.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 500
Speakers of Evil........... e s • e e s e . . . . . . 251
Speaking, force of......... . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 431
“ of Evil........ e e e º 'º a © e e s e o e e ... 219
Speech, Bridle of the.......... • * * * * * * * * * 222
“ Fruitless. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 220
“ Immoderate. . . . . . . . . . . © e º a tº e º e o e 701
“ Profane. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 220
“ Uncharitable... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 220
“ Vain... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 220
Spirit, Filthiness of the.................. 504
Spirit, Fruits of the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 557
Spirit, Leading by the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 421
Spirit of Glory ...... e - e º ſº º e • . . . . . . . . . . . . 321
Spirit of God, Work of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 69
Spirit of Judgment. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 454
Spirits in Prison...... e ſº e º 'º e º e . . . . . . . 265, 267
Spiritual Death. . . . . . . . . . . . . e Q e º e º 'º º 456
Spiritual Doubtings. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 144
Spiritual Knowledge... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 160
Spiritual Life ..... e e º e e º º ºs tº a e s e e . . . . . 130, 288
Spiritual-Minded Christians............... 520
Spiritual-Mindedness... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 291
Spiritual Priesthood... . . . . . . . e is e e º 'º e º e e ... 137
6% &&. Office of... . . . . . . . . . . . . 137
6& 46 Service of... . . . . . . . . . . 138
G6 <& Success of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 139
Spiritual Privileges.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 535
PAGE.
Spiritual Resurrection. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 684
Spiritual Sacrifices. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138, 139
Spiritual Sense of the Law............... 426
Spiritual Wickedness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 504
Spotlessness of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 186
Sprinkling, Use of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66
Stability of the Church. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 492
Stain of Sin... . . . tº e º O & tº e tº e º e º e s e º e s tº e º a 66
Star-Chamber. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 740
Star of Bethlehem. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 414
Stars ... . . . . . . . . 6 * * * * * * * * * c e s e º e º s is a e e . 459
State-secret. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 439
Steadfastness in the Faith................ 347
Stoics, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 371
“ Notions of . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 672
Stony Ground. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © tº tº e G e º e º 501
Strait Gate, the . . . . . . . . . . © º e o e º º te łº º sº tº ſº e . 430
Strength of Faith. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 572
Strengthening of Christians. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 348
Strife and Envy. . . . . . . . . . e e º e º e c . . . . . . . . 520
Strongholds of Satan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 504
Students, exhortations to . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 706
Stumblers at the Word. . . . . . . . . . . . e º e e º º . 146
Style of the Scriptures................... 697
Subject, the best. . . . . . . e e e º 'º e º e e s e e . . . . . 484
Subjection, mutual. . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 335
Submission to Civil Power. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 169
$4. to God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 394
Success of the Word. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 502
Sufferer, the..... . . . . . . . & e º 0 e º e º a s e e s e ... 446
Suffering. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . & © & © tº º e º 'º is g g º e º º 184
| Suffering of Christians.... . . . . . . . 240, 243, 319
“ Fear of... . . . . . . e is e s e e s º ºs e e s tº ... 243
“ for Righteousness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 241
“ Necessity of..... e & © e º is e º e s e e s sº e 254
“ of Jesus............ e e º e º º tº e e e º 'º 585
Sufferings of Christ........ ... .... 96, 188, 256
& 4 Cause of... . . . . tº e e e º e s e e e e e s e e 259
&& Consideration of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 256
“ End of... . . . . . . . • e e s e e s e e a º e e º 193
Sun of Righteousness . . . . . . . . . . * tº e g º º 413, 457
Sun, the, a Symbol of Christ......... . . . . . 461
Superiors, Duty to... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 632
Supernatural Grace. . . . . . . . . . © e º e º tº e º e º s tº 687
Superstition . . . . . . . . . . . e e e º e º º e º & © e º e º º e 443
Supplicating of God. . . . . . . & © e º e º e º 'º e º e ... 429
Supreme Object of Love. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 561
Swearing. . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e < e e e º a s e . . . . . . .426
Ç6 profane. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 604, 628
Symbol of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 461
Sympathy. . . . . . . * e º ſº º e º e e º 'º e º e & & © tº g º ºs e tº 212
T.
Tables of the Law........ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 620
“Take heed how you hear”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 502
“Taking heed to our Ways”. . . . . e e º e º 'º ... 386
Tasting by Christians. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133
Teaching of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 541
Tears of the Godly. . . . . . . . . . . ſº tº e º e º sº tº tº e > 473
Temperance . . . . . . . . . . © tº º e º 'º e º e º & e & . 102, 700
Temple, Christians a..... • e e s & G e º e G & 6 & E & 134
Temple of God. . . . . . . . • e s e e º e s e º e s a s . . . .395
Temple, the Spiritual. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 134
66 “ Foundation Stone of... . . . . . . . 135
* “ Materials of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135
* “ Nature of..... e e a e o e º e º e e e s a 134
* “ Structure of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136
TEMPTATION... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . 82,422, 616
66 Deliverance from, Prayed for... 616
&é of Christ. ... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 421
66 Comfort from...... . . . . . . . . . . . . 423
INDEx OF SUBJECTs.
799
PAGE.
TEMPTATION, Instruction from . . . . . . . . . . . . 423
66 Places of. . . . . . ... . . . . . . . . . . . 422
66 Watchfulness against. . . . . • . . 616
Tertullian. . . . . e ſº e º 'º º © e e º ſº e º e º e e tº e º ſº dº ſº tº 368
Testimony, external to the Scriptures. . . . . . 697
Theft. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * e º e º 'º º e º ºs e tº . . . . . . . 636
THEOLOGICAL LECTURES... . . gº º e º e a . . . . . . 645
6& “ Authority of the Scriptures 694
66 “ Before the Communion.... 704
66 “ Being of God...... . . . . . . 660
&G * Christ the Savior. . . . . . . . 680
&G “ Christian Religion, the way
to Happiness. . . . . . . . . . 690
66 “ Creation of Man......... 674
66 * Creation of the World.... 670
66 * Decrees of God. . . . . . . . . 668
66 “ Divine Attributes. . . . . ... 698
6& “ Eternal Punishment...... 688
66 “ Happiness. . . . . . . . . . . 649, 694
6& “ Happiness in God........ 694
66 “ Happiness of Man....... 650
6& “ Happiness of the Life to
COſſle. . . . . . tº º 'º e º 'º . . . . . 658
6& “ Holiness the only Happi-
ness on Earth. . . . . . . . . 693
66 “ Human felicity not on earth 652
66 * Immortality of the Soul... 655
{& “ Introduction. . . . . . . . . . . . 646
66 “ Law Given to Man. . . . . . 664
&G “ Life According to the Rules
of Religion . . . . . . . . . . . 700
66 “ Preface to the .......... . 645
&6 “ Providence. . . . . . . . ... 664, 676
K6 “ Purity of Life........... 702
66 “ Regeneration. . . . . . . . 682, 685
66 “ Religion, Pleasure and
Utility of . . . . . . . . . . . . 666
&&. “ Scriptures, Authority of... 694
66 “ True Felicity...... e e º 'º e = 688
6& “ True Way to Happiness... 690
6& “ Worship of God. . . . . . . . . 664
& “ Theology, Definition of... 691
6eogrwyers . . . . * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * g e e . . 626
“Thickets of Ignorance”..... º tº ſº e º & © 443
Thorny Ground. . . . . . * * c e º e e s e e • . . . . . . . . 501
Thoughts, Evil. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 490
“ of Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 641
Time to Awake. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 519
Tongue, Sins of the . . . . . . . . . tº º is a c e s a e e s e 387
Tranquillity of Spirit. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73
{ % Perfect...... * * * * * * * * ſº e e . . . . . 659
Treasure of Christians. . . . . . . . © e a e e º & © & 79
Treasures of Egypt. . . . . . * * * * * * * * g. . . . . . . 463
Trees of Righteousness............ . . . . . . 557
Trial of Faith, ........ tº e º a s e e º a e e . . . . 86, 570
“ “ End of........... * * e º e tº . . . . . . . . 87
Trials and Dangers....... * e º 'º e º e º e . . . . . 466
Tribulation. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6 tº e º 'º e º e 67
66 Patience in... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 409
Tribute, Payment of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 486
Trinity, Mystery of the... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 664
“Tristes Ineptiae”. . . . . . & Cº º sº tº gº . . . . . . . . . . 531
Triumph, the Christian. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 509, 512
True Christian, the best Subject.......... . 484
True Felicity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 688
Trust in God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 495
66 Assurance of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 497
66 Basis of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 497
66 Peace from. . . . . . tº ſº e º º tº e º ºs . . 498
Trust in the Lord........... & e º e g tº e . . . . . 363
Truth of the Christian Religion........... 692
PAGE.
Truth, Reception of the . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . 285
“ the Word of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68
U.
Unanimity. . . . . . . . tº e º e º & e • . . . . . . . . . . . . . 210
Unbelief. . . . . . . . . . . tº e º 'º e º e º s & e g tº ſº & e º 'º e . 145
Unbelievers, misery of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 146
Uncharitable Speech . . . . . . . . . . . . . . e e º is tº gº 220
Understanding of the Divine Law. . . . . . . . . 620
UNGODLY, the— *.
66 Candle of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 464
66 Character of . . . . . . . . . . . . . 545
£6 Evil Tongues of... . . . . . . . 251
66 Prospects of........ . . . . . . 464
G& Sins of..... º e º e º e º e º s e e e 470
66 Way of. . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º gº 255
Unholy Persons, Converse of.......... . . . . 439
Union of Believers with Christ.......... . 191
“ to God . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * e s e e 263
Universal Desire for Happiness. . . . . . . . . . . 658
66 Judgment . . . . . tº e º 'º º ſº º is e . . . . . . 589
66 Sense of Religion.............. 660
Unjust Dealing, cause of................. 637
Unpersuasion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 146
Use of God’s Name. . . . . tº e º e º e e * * * * * * . . . 629
Use of Scripture. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . & is tº e e s tº 423
Utility of Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 236, 299, 595
Utility of Religion. . . . . . . . . . . . gº tº dº º e º e º 'º e 666
V.
Wain Conversation....... & e e g º ºs e e . . . . . . . 110
66 66 Redemption from...... . 112
Vain Disquietude . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . 428
Vain Glory, desire of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 427
Vain Speech. . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * * * e e º e e 220
Vanity, Love of... . . . . . . . . . & º 'º º ſº e º e º e º sº 360
Vanity of Man. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121, 390
Waledictory Oration. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 721
Vigilance. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . de tº gº tº e º e º 'º º º . . . . 345
Wigor of Body and Mind . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 659
Virgins, the..... • * * * * * e s e º e º e a e s e º e s e º ºs 479
Vision beatific of God. . . . . . . . © tº ſº tº e º 'º e g º tº 659
Vision of Isaiah. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * e º 'º 398
Visitation, day of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 169
Vocation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70
W.
Wages of Sin . . . . . . . . tº º 'º e º º e º º º tº e º e e º sº . 172
Waiting for the Lord. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 350, 392
Waldenses, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 166, 248
Walking as in the presence of God........ 701
66 directed. . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e s & ſº tº e º ºs e e 519
66 honestly, as in the day. . . . . . . . . . . 520
Wandering Sheep. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199
Wanderings in Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 233, 641
Wantonness. . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * e s e e º e e ... .. 520
War against the Soul........... tº e º e o e ... 164
Warning by God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º 'º ºn e e 269
Watch-bell, the . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º e º & tº e º e º 'º 519
Watchfulness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 102, 345, 700
66 to Prayer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 301
Watchman of Israel ........ * * c e s e º is e e º sº. 435
Way of Affliction. . . . . dº º º ſº gº e º gº tº e º g g º is º º e 566
Way of God’s Commandments............ 505
66 “ excellency of the . . . . . . . . . . . . 509
Way of Happiness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 430, 692
Way of Peace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 509
Way of Sin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº º e º g º ºs e º is tº º e 259
Way to Happiness by Religion............ 690
Ways of God . . . . . . . . . 509
66
66 Cheerfiness in ...: 509, 608
800 INDEX OF SUBJECTS.
PAGE. PAGE.
Ways of God, End of.................... 509 || WIVEs, Subjection of.................. . 203, 204
66 “ Evenness in.......... . . . . . . . 508 || “Wonderful,” Jesus the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 413
&C. “ Nimbleness in.......... • . . . 508 || WoRD, the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123
Westminster Assembly. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 723 “ “ a Light . . . . . . . . . . . . . • * * * * * tº gº º 417
Wheels of the Soul. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 572 “ “ Dispensation of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 500
White Garments. . . . . . . . . . . dº º e e º e º e º ºs º is . 521 “ “ Hearing of... . . . . tº e º e º 'º . . . . . . 502
Wickedness of Man. . . . . . . e e º e º e a & ſº tº e º ºs º 515 “ “ Nature of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 500
Wild Ass Colt............ tº e º e e s e º e º e º º ſº 523 “ “ of God . . . . . . . . . . . * c e s & e º e º 'º º 123
Will of God ..... tº e º 'º º e º e º º e º 'º & . 171,287, 607 “ “ of Truth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68
66 * Knowledge of... . . . e - ſº º tº º . . . . 288 “ “ Operation of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 131, 501
& “ Our Rule. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 289 “ “ Seed of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 500
Willingness for Preaching. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 332 “ “ Stumbling at. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 146
WISDOM. . . . . . . . . . . tº e s tº ſº e e e e º e s e e e s e & 108, 441 “ “ Success of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 502
“ and Worth. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 529 “ “ Sweetness of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 134
“ Devilish. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 442 || Work of the Spirit of God. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69
“ Earthly . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © e e º g º e º º 442 || Works Good, Merits of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 376
* Excellence of. . . . . . . . . . e & º e º 'º º ºs . 442 | Works of Charity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 138
“ Gentleness of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 442 Works of Christ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 431
“ Heavenly. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 441 | Works of God in Creation. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 383
“’ Impartiality of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 442 || WoRLD, the
“ in Preaching..... & e º 'º e º e º e º e º & © tº 311 66 “ Course of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 292
“ Natural. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 442 {& “ Creation of. . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 381, 670
“ Not Censorious. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 442 66 “Service of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 428
“ of God. . . . . . . . . . . © º e º º e º 'º e º & 8 º' 700 66 66 “ Fruitless. . . . . . . . . . . ... 429
“ Origin of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 443 66 “ “ Impossible for a Christian 428
“ Peaceable. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 441 66 « “ Needless. . . . . tº tº e º & e º e ge 429
* Purity of...... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 441, 444 66 “ Unworthiness of... . . . . . . . . . . . 428
“ Sensual. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 442 | Worship of Christ. . . . . • - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 413, 416
* Serpentine. . . . . . . . . * e º e º e s e º e º & • 442 || Worship of God.............. 450, 454, 664, 726
“ Sincerity of.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 442 | Wrath of Man. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 490, 492
“ Undissembling. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 442 66 “. Event of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 491
“ Unostentatious. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4:42 &S “ Limitation of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 494
Witchcraft. ........ tº e º e º e e e º e º e º a s . . . . . . 624 & “ Made to Praise God. . . . . . . . 492
Witness, False. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º 'º e º & Gº . . 489 || Wretchedness of Sinners..... . . . . . . . . . ... . 436
WIVES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 202 || Writing of the Law of God on the Heart.... 563
* Chastity of . . . . . * e e e s e º e s e º e o e . . . . 204 66 66 66 “ Necessity of it... 563
“ Conversation of . . . . . . . e tº e < e º e s e º º e 204 £6 Ǻ 66 “ Writer the, of... 564
“ Daughters of Sarah... . . . . . . . . . . . . . 207
* Duty of... . . . . . . e e º e º e e º º e & e º e ... 202 Y.
“ Fear of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . gº tº º e e º 'º º • . . 205 Youth. . . . . . tº e e g c e º & © tº e º e s e tº $ tº . . . . . . . . . 334
“ Guilelessness of Spirit of ....... . . . . . 206
“ Weakness of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 206, 207 Z.
“ Modesty of. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 205 || Zeal, Imprudent, .... & º is is e s e e . . . . . . . . . . . 429
“ Ornaments of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 205, 206 || Zion’s Plea against Prelacy...... . . . . . . . . 8, 739
THE END.
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