5? so iL ^OFCAlJfO% ^OFCAIIFO/?^ ^^WE•llNIVER5•/^ o ■%iaAiNn-3ttv \WEUNIVER% ,^ — ^ i"*^ ';SlUBRARYQc ^^•lIBRAJiYQ^^ ^^OJUVDJO"^ ^^wmi^ ^WE•l]NIVERy//, <«5U3NVS01^ ^•lOSANCElfj> O %a3AJNa-3WV^ ^OFCALIFOR^ ^OF-CAllFOff^ ^ >— 'I I' ^ ,^WEUNIVER% ^lfiS^CEl£r^ ^/Sa3AJNa-3ttV .\W£UNIVER% =3 f V O ^lOSANCEl^^ o > I %a3AiNa-3W^ ^^x^t■UBRARYG^ ^lUBRARYQc, ^<«ojnv3jo'^ \Qi\mi^^ s c-> AV\EUNIVER% ^10SANCEI^;> o ^aaAlNQlW^ ^OFCAllFOi?^ ^OFCAHFOfti^ %A]ivjiaiv# "^6'Aavaaiii'^ CO ^,^^l•UBRARYQ^ ^IUBRARY£>/^ ^^MEUNIVERS/^ ^lOSANCEl£j^ ^ % ^^OfCAllFO/?^ ,^Wt■UNlVERS•//l £]? 5i ^lOSAKCElf/^ o %a3AiNnjwv ^OfCALIfOftj^ ^^AiiViian-^'^ ^"^OK \ll/j^ > c ^vlOSANCElfj-^ AINn-3WV ^^^t•llBRAHYac j^^lllBRARYGr^ ^JIIVDJO"^ '^^40dllV3JO>' \WFUNIVfRS'//- "^^ilJONVSOl^ vvlOSAJJCElfj> %a3AINft]WV ^OFCAllFOftiA ,^.OFCAIIFO% ^ =3 '^'^AIJVJjaiH^?^ ^6'Aaviiaii# AWEUNIVERy/A o ^ic ^WEUNIVERiV^ ^lOSANCElfj^ O^" '^AOJIIVD-JO'^ ?^ ^AdvaaiH"^ "^Jl^UDNVSOl^ ^lOSANCElfx^ o "^iGAiNa-jyvv ^•OFCALIFOftjj^ ^.OF- I"! '^:lOSANCElfj> ^lOSANCEl^^ J c> il>^ "^/SiHAlNftJWV^ ^^HlBKARYQr ^^N^llBRARYO^ !•'<'' ■^/iiGAlNn-iWV^ '^OJIIVJJO^ ^.aojiivjjo'^ ^.OFCALIFOftj^ ^OFCAllFORjk ^<3Aavaani^ AWEUNIVERSy/) ^Oc , -.^^UIBRARY<9/: AWEUNIVFWSyA ^•lOSANCEl^^ \^^L ^^IUBRARYQ<^ I NICHOL'S SEEIES OF STANDARD DIVINES. PURITAN PERIOD. iii^ ^mtml ipnfaa By JOHN C. MILLER, D.D., LINCOLN COLLEGE ; HONOBAST CANON OF WO&CESTEB ; KECIOB OF SI UABTIN'S, BIBMINQHAAL THE WOEKS OF EICHARD SIBBES, D.D VOL. I. COUNCIL OF PUBLICATION. W. LINDSAY ALEXANDER, D.D., Professor of Theology, Congregational Union, Edinburgh. JAMES BEGG, D.D., Minister of Newington Free Church, Edinburgh. THOMAS J. CRAWFORD, D.D., S.T.P., Professor of Divinity, University, Edinburgh. D. T. K. DRUMMOND, M.A., Minister of St Thomas' Episcopal Church, Edinburgh. WILLIAM H. GOOLD, D.D., Professor of Biblical Literature and Church History, Reformed Presbyterian Church, Edinburgh. ANDREW THOMSON, D.D., Minister of Broughton Place United Presby- terian Church, Edinburgh. ©tneral @Ji(tor. REV. THOMAS SMITH, M.A., Edinbueoh. THE COMPLETE WOEKS RICHARD SIBBES, D.D., MASTER OF CATHERINE HALL, CAMBRIDGE ; PREACHER OF GRAY's INN, LONDON. ^bitetr, Iviltlj gtfmoir, BY THE EEV. ALEXANDER BALLOCH GROSART, (cor. MEMB. SOC. ASTIQ. op SCOTLAND) KINROSS. VOL. I. CONTAINING : THE DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST THE BRUISED REED AND SMOKING FL.\X THE SWORD OF THE WICKED THE SOUl's CONFLICT THE saints' SAFETY IN EVIL TIMES CHRIST IS BEST, OR ST PAUl's STRMT- CHRISt's sufferings FOR MAN's SIN THE CHURCh's VISITATION THE ungodly' S MISERY THE DIFFICULTY OF SALVATION THE saints' HIDING-PLACE IN THE EVIL DAY. EDINBURGH: JAMES NICHOL. LONDON: JAIVIES NISBET AND CO. DUBLIN: W. ROBERTSON. M.DCCC.LXII. BmNBCRGH: PRIKTED Br JOHN GRE1- 3X V. I TO THE REY. JAMES AUGUSTUS KESSET, PCL, PREACHER TO THE HON. SOCIETY OF GRAY's INN, LONDON, &c. &c. &c. AND THE REY. CHARLES KIRKBY ROBINSON, M.A., MASTER OF ST CATHARINe's COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, DISTINGUISHED OCCUPANTS OF OFFICES FORMERLY HELD BY EICHAED SIBBES, D.D., THIS EDITION OF HIS WHOLE WORKS IS, WITH THEIR KIND PERMISSION, ^ RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY THE EDITOR. .?v •^ 430443 CONTENTS. PAGE Preface, ....... xiii Memoir of Richard Sibbes, D.D., . . . . xix Appendix to Memoir, ..... cxxxi Description op Christ Mat. XII. 18, . 1 Notes, ....... 31 The Bruised Reed and Smoking Flax Mat. XII. 20, . 33 Epistle Dedicatory, ...... 85-87 To the Christian Reader, . . . . .88-41 PART I. CHRIST WILL NOT BREAK THE BRUISED REED. The text opened and divided. "What the reed is, and what the bruising, ....... 43, 44 Those that Christ hath to deal withal are bruisod, . . 44 Bruising is necessary, 1. before conversion; 2. after conversion, 44 Use. Not to be rash in judging such, ... 44 Christ will not break the Bi-uised Reed, ... 45 Confirmed from his borrowed titles, relations, ofiices, . . 45 Use 1. Go boldly to the throne of grace, ... 46 Use 2. Despair not in thy bruisings, ... 46 Use 3. See the contrary to this in Satan, ... 40 (1.) Signs, (2.) Means, (3.) Measure, (4.) Comfort to the bruised, .... 4G— 48 PART II. NOR quench THE SMOKING FLAX. Grace is little at the first, ..... 49 Use. Not to be discouraged at small beginnings, . . 49 Grace is mingled with corruption, .... 50 Use. Hence we judge so variously of ourselves, . . 50 Christ will not quench small and weak beginnings — U CONTENTS. PAGE Because it is from him, .... 51 Because it is for him, ..... 51 Use 1. No more should we : therefore — 1. Let all men in general carry themselves with modera- tion ; yet with wisdom to discern those that are not such, and tenderness towards beginners, . . 51, 52 2. In particular to admonish of this, (1.) ministers, (2.) the church, (3.) magistrates, (4.) private Christians: that they quench not good things in others by their — example, slanderings, censuring and judging them — [1.] for matters indifferent, [2.] for weaknesses, . 53-57 Use 2. Examine whether we be such as Christ will not quench : 1. Kules how to examine ourselves, ... 58 2. Signs whereby to examine ourselves, . . 69 Some scruples of heart answered, that keep us from the com- fort of our examination, ..... 62 Use 3. We are encouraged to set upon duties, notwithstanding our weaknesses and disabiUties, .... 65 A case about indisposition to duty resolved, ... 66 Two doubts of acceptance, either, 1. From scruples about duties ; 2. Ignorance of our condition in Christ, . . 67 Weaknesses what, ...... 68 How to recover lost peace, ..... 69 Use 4. Let us frame our conceits accordingly, and not believe Satan's representations of Christ to us, . . . 71 Or of us unto ourselves, ..... 71 Use 5. Reproof of such as sin against this merciful disposition in Christ, as those do, — 1. That go on in ill courses, either fi-om despair, or pre- sumption, or a wilful purpose to quench the light that is in them, ..... 73 2. That neglect good courses from hopes to have comfort, because Christ is thus merciful, ... 74 3. That ill requite so gracious a Saviour as Christ is, (1.) by neglecting his Mediatorship, (2.) or by being cruel to him in his [1.] members, [2.] name, [3.] by divi- sions in opinion, ..... 75, 76 4. That walk contrary to Christ in their dealing with the tender, for their own gain, ... 77 5. That despise and stumble at this low stooping of Christ, 77 PAET in. UNTIL HE SEND FOETH JUDGMENT UNTO VICTORY. Explanation of the words, ..... 77, 78 The matter whereof is drawn out into six conclusions — . 78 Conclusion 1. Christ is so mild that yet he will rule those that enjoy the comfort of his light mildness, ... 79 Use. For trial to discern who may lay just claim to Christ's mercy, ....... 79 Conchmon 2. The spiritual government of Christ is joined with judgment and wisdom, ..... 80 Use 1. Spiritual wisdom and judgment is excellent, and in what respects, ...... 81 CONTENTS. IX PAGE Why Satan envies and spiteth it, . . . . 81 It is most necessary for the managing of a Christian's course, 81 Where true wisdom and judgment is, there Christ sets up his government, ...... 82 The best method for practice, .... 83 Use 2. There is no true judgment where the life is ill governed, 83 Conclusion 3. Christ's government is victorious, . . 84 1. In every private Christian, .... 84 2. In the church in general, . . . . 85 Why the victory seems sometimes to go on the contrary side, 85 Use 1. Comfort to weak Christians: the least spark in them, if it be right, will prevail, .... 86 (1,) Signs whether there be any such grace in us as will be victorious, ...... 87 (2.) Means to be used that it may be so, . . . 88 tJse 2. To admonish — 1. nations and states, 2. families, 3. every one in particular, (1.) for himself, (2.) his friends, to side with Christ, and to embrace his government, . 91 Use 3. To inform us that then Popery must come down, . 91 Conclusion 4. As Christ's government shall be victorious, so it shall openly appear, it shall be brought forth to the view of all to victory, ...... 91 Use. Deceit and error shall be laid open to shame, . . 92 Conclusion 5. This government is advanced and set up by Christ alone, ...... 93 In all spiritual essays look for strength from Christ, and not from thyself, ...... 94 Conclusion 6. This prevailing and victory shall not be without fighting, ....... 95 Because it is — 1. government, 2. spiritual government, 3. government with judgment, .... 95 Use. It is no sign of a good condition to find all quiet, . 96 Wheresoever Christ cometh, there will be divisions, . . 97 Miserable are those men that stand out against him, and are stiU under Satan's government, . . .97 Conclusion and general application of this third part, — to en- coui'age Christians to go on comfortably and cheerfully, with confidence of prevailing, both in respect, 1. of om*selves, although beset with corruption; and, 2. the church, although compassed with enemies, ..... 97 Notes, ....... 100, 101 The Sword OF THE Wicked Ps. XLII. 10, . 103 Notes, ....... 117. 118 The Soul's Conflict with itself, and Victory OVER ITSELF BY Faith Ps. XLII. 11. . 119 Dedication, . . . . . . .121 CONTENTS. PAGE To the Christian Reader, ..... 122-127 Verses by Benlowes and Quarles, .... 128, 129 Chap. 1. General observations upon the text, . . 131 2. Of discouragements from without, . . . 133 3. Of discouragements from within, . . . 136 4. Of casting down ourselves, and specially by sorrow. The Evils thereof, .... 142 5. Eemedies of casting down : to cite the soul, and press it to give an account, .... 144 6. Other observations of the same nature, . . 148 7. Difference between good men and others in conflicts with sin, ..... 153 8. Of unfitting dejection : and when it is excessive. And what is the right temper of the soul herein, . 155 9. Of the soul's disquiets, God's dealings, and power to contain oiirselves in order, . • . . 160 10. Means not to be overcharged with sorrow, . . 162 11. Signs of victory over ourselves, and of a subdued spirit, 169 12. Of original righteousness, natural corruption, Satan's joining with it, and our duty thereupon, . . 172 13. Of imagination : sin of it, and remedies for it, . 178 14. Of help by others : of true comforters, and their graces. Method. Ill success, .... 191 15. Of flying to God in disquiets of souls. Eight obser- vations out of the text, . . . .197 16. Of trust in God: grounds of it: especially his provi- dence, ...... 202 17. Of graces to be exercised in respect of divine provi- dence, ...... 207 18. Other grounds of trusting in God: namely, the pro- mises. And twelve directions about the same, . 212 19. Faith to be prized, and other things undervalued, at least not to be trusted to as the chief, . . 218 20. Of the method of trusting in God, and the trial of that trust, ...... 221 21. Of quieting the spirit in troubles for sin : and objec- tions answered, ..... 226 22. Of sorrow for sin, and hatred of sin, when right and sufficient. Helps thereto, . . . 232 23. Other spiritual causes of the soul's trouble discovered and removed : and objections answered, . . 237 24. Of outward troubles disquieting the spirit ; and com- forts in them, ..... 239 25. Of the defects of gifts, disquieting the soul. As also the afflictions of the chm'ch, . . . 242 20, Of divme reasons in a beUever, of his minding to praise God more than to be delivered, . . . 244 27. In our worst condition we have cause to praise God. Still ample cause in these days, . . . 248 28. Divers qualities of the praise due to God, With helps therein. And notes of God's hearing our prayers, 252 CONTENTS. XI PAGE Chap. 29. Of God's manifold salvation for his people ; and why- open, or expressed in the countenance, . . 258 30. Of God, our God, and of particular application, . 262 81. Means of improving and e\idencing to our souls that God is our God, . . . .267 82. Of improving our evidences for comfort in several pas- sages of our lives, .... 271 83. Of experience and faith, and how to wait on God com- fortably. Helps thereto, . . . 277 84. Of confirming this trust in God. Seek it of God him- self. Sins hinder not : nor Satan. Conclusion and sohloquy, ..... 282 Notes, ....... 289-294 The Saint's Safety IN Evil Times Ps. VIE. 14, . . 295 Notes, ....... 813 The Saint's Safety in Evil Times, Manifested by St Paul, fkom his Experience op God's Goodness in Greatest Distress 2 Tim. IV. 17, 18, 314 Notes, . . . . . . .884 Christ is Best; or, St Paul's Strait Phil. I, 23, 24, 835 Notes, ....... 350 Christ's Sufferings for Man's Sin Mat. XXVII. 46, 351 Notes, ....... 369 The Church's Visitation 1 Pet. IV. 17-19, 371 Notes, ....... 884 The Ungodly's Misery .....1 Pet. IV. 17, . 885 The Difficulty of Salvation = 1 Pet, IV. 18, .395 The Saint's Hiding-Place in the Evil Day 1 Pet. IV. 19, . 401 Notes, ....... 410 The Saint's Hiding-Place in the Evil Day 1 Pet. IV. 19, .411 *:f* The ' Notes ' prefixed to the several Treatises and Sermons will shew, that in the present volume are included the whole of the works published by Sibbes himself : ' The Description of Christ,' and ' The Sword of the Wicked,' being restored to their proper places, as introductory to ' The Bruised Eeed,' and ' The Soul's Conflict,' re- spectively.' — Q. EDITOR'S ADVERTISEMENT. Having now in my library the whole of the works of Sibbes, with the excep- tion of tioo small volumes, I beg to note them here, in the hope that thereby I may secure them. (l.j The Saint's Comforts, being the substance of divers sermons preached on Ps. cxxx., the beginning ; The Saint's Happiness, on Ps. Ixxiii. 28 ; The Kich Pearl, on Mat. xiii. 45, 46 ; The Success of the Gospel, on Luke vii. 34, 35 ; Mary's Choice on Luke x. 38-40. By a Eeverend Divine now with God. Printed at London by Thos. Cotes, and are to be sold by Peter Cole, at the sign of the Glove, in Cornhill, near the Exchange. 1638. 12mo. (2.) Antidotum contra Naufragium Fidei et Bonse ConscientisB, Concio Latine. . . 2 Tim. i. 14. Pp. 78. 18mo. In view of the bibliographical list (see a of this Preface), it is also exceedingly de- sirable to have the following editions : — (3.) Bruised Reed. Ath edition. 1632. 18mo. (4.j Two Sermons on First "Words of Christ's Last Sermon. 4to, 1636. 1st edition, (5.) Spiritual Man's Aim. 2d edition. (6.) Fountain Sealed. 2d edition. (7.) Divine Meditations. 2d edition. PREFACE. In presenting the public with the first volume of what, it is hoped, will prove a standard edition of the hitherto uncollected and in- edited works of Dr Richard Sibbes, I may be permitted to make the following remarks : — (a) Sibbes has had no preceding editor. The edition (so-called), of his 'Works,' noted below,* contains a mere fraction, and those which are included have been mutilated and most care- lessly printed. It were invidious to point out the abounding blunders of these volumes. ' This edition,' says the late Wilham Pickering, our English Aldus, 'which purports to be the entire works of Sibbes, contains only a small portion ; besides being incorrectly printed, and omitting the prefaces, dedications, and tables/ t There have been many editions, more or less accurate, and more or less attractive in their typography, of separate treatises, — especially of the Bruised Reed and Soul's Conflict. These, so far as known to us, will be recorded in a bibliographical list of editions in the concluding volume. (b) It may therefore be pleaded, that any shortcomings, whether of omission or commission, claim indulgence, in that the editor has had wholly to prepare his text from the original and early editions ;J * The Works of the Eeverend Richard Sibbes, D.D., late Master of Catherine Hall, in the University of Oxford {sic), and Preacher of Gray's Inn, London, &c. Aberdeen, 1812. 3 Vols. 8vo. f ' Bruised Reed,' reprint of 1888, p. xxi. X To explain ; — Adams's ' Sermons ' were collected by himself from the early 4to3 into a folio, and so it is an editor's text. Had Sibbes's numerous writings been brought together into a folio or otherwise, by himself, or under his authority, it is plain that the labour of editing would have been much simplified. and that these, excepting the three small volumes published by or under the sanction of the author, swarm with misprints and mispunctuations. The posthumous publication of the larger pro- portion explains this. It can hardly be hoped that in every case perfect accuracy has been attained, as many points must always remain to some extent matter of opinion ; but I have given a good deal of thought and pains to the production of an accurate text. It need scarcely be said, that in nothing save the modern- isation of the orthography and punctuation, are Sibbes's words touched. (c) By the kind help of friends interested in the work, every quotation and reference, coming within the general rule laid down for this series,* has been verified or filled in, as the case may be. Occasional casual references and allusions have been traced. It is believed that no quotation of any moment has been overlooked. This does not apply to the mere pointing of a sentence or barbing of an appeal with a saying introduced after the fashion of the age, as ' one saith,' or ' the heathen saith.' But when traced, even those have been given. {d) To the treatises embraced in this volume, which were pub- lished originally and superintended subsequently by the author in different editions, the 'various readings' are appended as foot-notes. The letters a, h, c, &c., refer to the few 'notes ' of the editor, added at the close of each treatise. These might have been multiplied ; but his design is simply to explain names, dates, facts. The old signi- ficant words that occur will be given as a 'glossary' in the last volume, with references to the places where they occur. This may prove a not unacceptable addition to the stores of the ' Philological Society,' in their laudable endeavour to furnish that great desi- deratum, a national dictionary of our English tongue. (e) Foi the ' Memoir ' I have done my humble best. None can regret its deficiencies more than myself Yet has it, as the wh.'^le undertaking, been done lovingly and as an honest piece of work. Those who have engaged in kindred investigations will best appre- ciate the difficulties involved. As compared with preceding me- moirs of Sibbes (or notices rather, for no one exceeds at the most five of our pages), it will be found more ample. I have been en- abled to enrich it with new matter, to recover old which was lost or neglected ; and to bring together what is scattered through many volumes. I felicitate myself upon the possession of Zachary Catlin's MS.-f- Writing of one who came under the persecution * Sco ' Editorial Note,' Adams' Works, vol. i. pp. ix, x. t See Aj)peudix A. to Memoir. PREFACE. XV of Laud, aiid who was a ' Puritan ' of the tnie stamp, the policy of Laud must come under review. On that policy I have decided opinions, which I have not concealed. But I trust I have not spoken uncourteously, much less untruthfully. There are some minds that cannot speak well of their own favourites except at the expense of others. They cannot laud the Churchman without, to use a word of Sibbes's, ' depraving ' the Puritan, or the Puritan without impaling the Churchman. Such men would quench Orion that Saturn's rings may gleam the brighter. Whereas our dark world needs both, neeas ail its stars. Let them all shine. Our great names are not so numerous, either in Church or State, that we can afford to ob- scure any of our historic lights. Let all irradiate the firmament of fame. (f) It would have unduly extended the ' Memoir ' to have in- cluded an analysis and estimate of the works of Sibbes, or a view of his ' opinions ' and ' character ' as reflected therein. This I hope to overtake in a short essay, to be given in the course of the issue of the works, in which I trust to be able to throw some little light on his relations to other writers and theirs to him, and per- chance to guide the casual reader to the treasures of rare thought, ripe wisdom, spiritual insight, beauty of illustration, sweetness of consolation, of this incomparable old worthy. (g) The pleasant duty remains of returning my warm thanks to very many friends and correspondents. It were to savour of osten- tation to name all who have rendered assistance, or endeavoured to do so. But I must mention a few. To the Rev. John Eyton Bicker- steth Mayor, M.A., Fellow of St John's College ; the Rev. Charles Kirkby Robinson, M.A., Master of St Catherine's College ; Charles Henry Cooper, Esq., F.S.A., and Thompson Cooper, Esq., F.S.A. ; Mr Wallis, — all of Cambridge, I owe special acknowledgments for various favours, and for local inquiries most obligingly made and communicated. My thanks are similarly due to Dr Hessey, preacher of Gray's Inn, London ; and to the Rev. Paul M. Sted- man, vicar of Thurston ; the Rev. W. G. Tuck, rector of Tostock ; the Rev. A. H. Wratislaw, Bury St Edmunds, from each of whom I have received many tokens of their interest in my labours, as well by letter, as personally on occasion of a visit to Suffolk. From his Grace the Duke of Manchester ; Richard Almack, Esq., Mel- ford, Sudbury ; James Spedding, Esq., editor of Bacon ; Joshua Wilson, Esq., Nevill Park, Tunbridge Wells ; Edward Foss, Esq., Churchill House, Dover ; William Durrant Cooper, Esq., F.S.A. ; Albert Way, Esq., F.S.A. ; R. Siegfried, Esq., Trinity College, Dublin ; Jonathan B. Bright, Esq., Waltham, Massachusetts, XVI PKEFACK. United States ; the Rev. W, G. Lewis, Westboume Grove ; the E.ev, George Thomson, Hackney ; the Rev. E. Pattison, Gedding ; the Rev. Robert Redpath, M.A., London ; W. E. Whitehouse, Esq., Bir- mingham, I have received various memorabilia, communicated with such ungrudging alacrity and kindness as much to deepen the obli- gation. I beg to thank the Rev. J. C. Robertson, Canterbury ; the Rev. Hastings Robinson, D.D., Great Warley; the Rev. William West, Hawarden ; the Rev. William Webster, M.A., Richmond ; Charles Bird, Esq., London ; the Rev. Dr Cairns, Berwick ; the Rev. Dr Bonar, Kelso ; the Rev. Dr Bryce, Belfast ; and the Rev. Thomas Smith, M.A., Edinburgh, and numerous anonymous correspond- ents, for service in verification of references in this volume and those that are to follow. I am sure the edition will owe much to the willing hand and vigilant eye of the last-named gentle- man, as General Editor of the series, in revision of the proofs with myself It would be ungrateful not to acknowledge the unvarying courtesy with which I have been permitted access to the stores of the great libraries, e. g., British Museum, where Mr Watt, as he is to all, was ever eager to assist ; Red Cross Street ; University and Advocates', Edinburgh. Nor can I withhold a grateful word from the Editors and Correspondents of 'Notes and Queries,' and other Hterary journals, whose columns I have had occasion to use, I have endeavoured to leave no source of information unconsulted, and have given the authority for my statements, whether in Memoir or Notes. ' For in all faculties, their writings have been of longest continuance, who have made fairest use of other authors.' 'For mine owne, either judgment or opinion ' also, with the foregoing, in the words of Sir John Hayward, ' as I do nothing the more value the spider's for that she draweth it out of her own bowels ; so doe I not esteeme the lesse of the honeycombe, because it is gathered out of many flowers.' — (Sanctuary of a Troubled Sou], Part ii. To the Reader, 1631. ISmo). Wherever I have been indebted to a pre- decessor, it is duly recorded. And now, with unfeigned diffidence in myself and my part, but with the conviction that no common service is being rendered to Christian literature by this edition of Sibbes, I would say, in the words of Isaak Walton, ' If I have prevented an abler person, I beg pardon of him and my reader.' — (Intr. to Life of Herbert^ A. B. G, 1st Manse, Kinross, 2d May 1862. MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. CHAPTER I. • MEMORIALS ' THAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN. Izaak Walton — Dr "William Gouge — Richard Baxter — John Davenport, B.D. — Leading ' Puritans ' — Sihbes's own indifference. There are more than common reasons to cause regret that hitherto there has not been, and in this later time can scarcely be, a worthy life of the 'heavenly' Richard Sirbes (the adjective, like the 'venerable' Bede, the 'judicious' Hooker, the 'holy' Baxter, being the almost invariable epithet associated with every mention of his name, through many generations after his departure).* I look upon my own gatherings, after no small expenditure of time and endeavour, all the more sorrowfully because of these reasons. I would fain have placed upon the honoured forehead of the author of the 'Bruised Reed' and 'Soul's Conflict' a wreath of 'amaranthine flowers;' but alas! have instead with difficulty gleaned a few crushed and withered leaves, some poor spires of faded grass and braids of grave-stone moss, with perchance a sprig of not altogether scentless thyme ; whereas in the course of my researches, I have come upon various notices and scintillations of revelation, which shew how diflterent it might have been had , 1625, p. 139. X Blomefieldj Norfolk, vol. i , pp. 481-82. § In British Museum. Addl. MSS. XXVI MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. little purpose to do so, or to prove liim ' sih' to this, that, or the other great family. The far-fountained 'red' ichor that has come down from ' The grand old gardener and his wife '* suffices, the more especially as, at the time of his birth at least, our author's family was assuredly lowly, and of the people : ' Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood. 't In all preceding notices, Sudbury, the old town, so far back as Ed- ward III.'s times inhabited by the Flemings, is given as Sibbes's birth-place. ' At Sudbury,' says Neal (' History of the Puritans'), and Brook (' Lives of the Puritans'), and so all the ' Biographical Diction- aries.' 'Nigh Sudbury,' says Fuller; ' At the' edges of Suffolk, near Sudbury,' says Clarke. This is a mistake. The town, 'as great as most, and ancient as any,' according to Thomas Fuller, that can boast of Thomas Gainsborough and Thomas Constable later, as natives, and of Faithful Teate, William Jenkyn, and Samuel Peyto earlier, as ministers, can afford to give up an honour to whidi it has no claim. Tostock, not Sudbury, was his birth-place. The ' regis- ters' of the period, of Sudbury and Tostock alike, have prished; but a contemporary manuscript 'Memoir' of Sibbes, from the pen of Zachary Catlin (of whom more anon), which the streamlof time, while engulphing so much else of what was precious and vhat was worthless, has floated down and placed by lucky accidert in my possession, states the fact. As this contemporary manuscript must be frequently laid under contribution in the sequel, it may be as well to give here its proem, which is sufficient, apart from what will subsequently appear, to attesf its au- thority and trustworthiness. ' At the request of a nolle friend. Sir William Spring, I have here willingly contributed to;he happy memory of that worthy man of God, Dr Sibbes, a few siidi flowers as I could collect, either from the certain relation of tiose that knew his first education, or from mine own observation ?f him sA that distance whereat we lived. And if anything herei recorded raiay seem convenient for his purpose, who is (as I am informed) * and t Tennyson. ' Lady Clara Vere de Vere ' Even were it possibi to trace the name of Sibbes up to ' Norman blood,' we must remember our Scottishproverbs : — A' Stuarts are no sib to the king, "» = Though of the sa* name, A' Campbells are no sib to the duke, / not of tlie same f^iily. Moreover, as he says liimself of another (Shorland), 'What should I oeak of these things, when he has personal worth enough ? I need not go abroar to commend this man, for there were tliose graces and gifts in him that made hii so esteemed, that verily I tliink no man of his place and years lived more desired, tnd died more lamented.' (' Clirist is Best,' page 347 of this volume of the works.) | MEMOIR OF RICH^VED SIBBES, D.D. XXVU about to publish the lives of some worthies deceased, I shall think my labour well bestowed. For I am not of that philosopher's mind, who lighting upon a book newl}' put forth, entitled, " The En- comium of Hercules," cast it away, saying,^^ quisLacedcemoniorum eum vitwperavit ?■ accounting it a needless work to praise him whom no man did or could find fault withal. I rather judge it a com- mendable thing to perpetuate and keep fresh the memory of such worthy men whose examples may be of use for imitation in this declining and degenerate age.'* I give his ipsissima verba of the birth-place, as above, and embrace in the quotation the birth-date as well. ' But I come to the matter. This Richard, the eldest son of Paul Sibs and Johan [== Joanna ?] was born at Tostock, in Suffolk, four miles from Bury, anno domini 1577.'"!* The source of the blunder of making Sudbury the birth-place is evidently confound- ing 'Bury' St Edmunds with Sudbury. Tostock is 'nigh' the former, but not 'nigh' the latter, and cannot at all be described as * on the edges' of Suffolk, being fifteen or twenty miles in the interior. Tostock, to which I thus restore, if not in the popular sense a great, at least a revered, name, and one of which any place miglit be proud, remains to-day very much as we may suppose it to have been two hundred years ago, except perhaps that 'its tide of work has ebbed away,' and it is now wholly rural. It is a small sequestered village in Thedwestry hundred, about, as we have seen, four miles from Bury St Edmunds, and about thirteen miles from Sudbury. ' A quaint, old, gabled place With Church stamped on its face. Exactly such a 'village' as 'Our Village' has made dear to us all. Its few picturesquely scattered houses cluster around an unenclosed 'common' (once abundant in 'merry England,' but now sparse), and present fine specimens of what every year is seeing disappear — the peaked-roofed, mos.sy-thatched, or saffron-tiled ' homes ' of our forefathers of the 16th and 17th centuries, with every 'coign of van- tage' of the over-hanging upper storeys and lozenge-paned wiudov/s, * Held by old swallows on a lease of love Unbroken, immemorial ;' and little gardens a-front flinging out into the air the breath of * Above and throughout I modernise the orthography ; but in Appendix A to this Memoir I reprint from my MS. the whole very interesting document. Thither I refer for further information concerning its author. t Neal gives 1579, and is followed by otliers; but the misprint is corrected by the statement that his death took place in 1635, in his 57th year, which, however, ought to be 58th. The ' Registers' of Tostock that remain commence long subsequent to 1677, and hence the date of his birth-rfay is lost. XSviii MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. old-fashioned flowers. It is pleasant in our day to come upon such a virgin spot. ' For it is well, amid the whirr Of restless wheels and busy stir, To find a quiet spot where live Fond, pious thoughts conservative, That ring to an old chime, And bear the moss of time. ' And sweeter far and grander too The ancient civilisation grew, With holy war and busy work Beneath the spire and round the kirk Tlian miles of brick and stone lu godless monotone.' The 'church,' lichened and lady-ferned, but in excellent preser- vation, is approached by a fragrant lane that strikes off from ' the rectory,' ' . . . where the biidding purple rose, Prolific of its gifts, the long year through Breaks into beauty. It is dedicated to St Andrew. ' Nor gargoyle lacks, grotesque and quaint, Nor saintly niche without its saint. Nor buttresi lightsome, nor the tower, Where the bell marks the passing hour. And peals out with our mirth, And tolls our earth to earth.' The ' font' — from which no doubt little Richard Sibbes was bap- tized — is noticeable. The 'benches' are of dark oak, grotesquely carved. The graves around are ozier-woven, and on some of the stones, the once great Suffolk name of Bacon, is still to be read ; also in the wrecks of the ' Registers' that remain, the mighty name of Wolsey occurs, as elsewhere in the neighbourhood (by a strange link with Germany and the Reformation), is to be found that of Luther. We visited the pnmitive hamlet on one of the finest of English September days, and our Scottish eye and heart were touched with the quiet English scenery, long familiar by the 'landscapes' of Suffolk's Gainsborough and Constable, and her poets, Bloomfield and Crabbe. There were the ' Cart on a Road,' ' Cows crossing a Ford,' ' Boys a-straddle on a Gate,' the ' Stile,' ringed with honey-suckle, and now the glowing, and now the bleak originals of ' The Farmer's Boy' and of 'The Borough.' Tostock was a cheery, sunny, many-memoried birth-place ; to this hour, with its sister-villages, possessing traditions of martyrs and reformers, Rowland Taylor and Yeoman, and, farther off, MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. XXIX Hooper and Coverdale and John Rogers, and legends of tlie Tndors and the Commonwealth. For a 'Puritan' none could have been more fitting, for all around were the family seats of grand old Puritan worthies, Barton-Mere, Talmach Hall, Pakenham, Nether Hall, where ' godly ministers ' were ever welcome to the Bar- nardistons and Brights, Veres and Brooks, Winthrops and Riches, Springs and Cavendishes, and the Bacon stock. But Sibbes was very soon removed thence to Thurston, a similar hamlet only about three miles distant. Here, our old worthy the Vicar of Thurston informs us, Mr and Mrs Sibbes ' lived in honest repute, brought up and married divers children, purchased some houses and lands, and there both deceased.' There will be something to say afterward of these ' divers chil- dren' who were 'married ;' but it is to be regretted that, the 'registers having perished, no positive light can be cast on the dates of the de- cease of the elder folks, except that the father was dead before 1608. Concerning him this is Catlin's testimony : ' His father was by his trade a wheel-wright, a skilful and painful workman, and a good, sound-hearted Christian.' ' Skilful and painful'* were very weighty words then, particularly ' painful,' which was the highest praise that could be given to a laborious, faithful, evangelical minister of the gospel. It is found in many an olden title-page, and un- derneath many a grave, worn face. A ' mill-wright,' or ' wheel- wright,' for they are interchangeable, was by no means an unim- portant ' craftsman ' in those da3^s. In country places, such as Thurston and Tostock, where division of labour could not be car- ried so far as in the large towns, the ' wheel-wright ' was compelled to draw largely upon his own resources, and to devise expedients to meet pressing emergencies as they arose. Necessarily this made him dexterous, expert, and ' skilful ' in mechanical arrangements. If thus early, the whole of Smiles's description, on whose authority I am writing this,-f* does not hold (for he speaks of him devising steam-engines, pumps, cranes, and the like) ; yet in those primitive days, perhaps more than some generations later, such tradesmen were, in all cases of difficulty, resorted to, and looked upon as a very important class of workmen ; while the nature of their business tended to make them thoughtful, decided, self-reliant. The cradle of little Richard, therefore, would seem to have been rocked at a fireside not altogether unprosperous. And yet there must have been in the outset somewhat of poverty and struggle, or, the elder Sibbes wiU need the full benefit of Catlin's character of him. For our guileless * Painful == full of pains, i.e., painstakintr, laboridus. t Smilus's Life of Briudley, iu Lives of the Eugiucers, V(>1 i. p. 312. TTT MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBEE5, D.D. chronicler, carrying us swiftly onward, adds immediately thereafter, ' This Richard he brought up in learning at the grammar school, though very unwillingly in regard of the charge.' We will in charity give Master Paul Sibs, wheel-wright, the benefit of tbe vicar's testimony, and ascribe the ' unwillingness ' to the res angustcB domi. Whether or not, the ' charge,' I fear, had prematurely removed the little fellow from the school to the wheel-wright's bench, but for his own bookish tastes, and the watchful interest of friends. This is explicitly affirmed in what follows. The sentence above, that tells us of the unwilling school-learning, through the ' charge,' thus continues — ' had not the youth's strong inclination to his books, and well profiting therein, with some importunities of friends, prevailed so far as to continue him at school till he was fit for Cambridge.' Most truly the ' boy was father of the man.' I turn asfain to the Izaak Walton-like words of the Vicar of Thurston. He says — ' Concerning his love to his book, and his industry in study, I cannot omit the testimony of Mr Thomas Clark, high constable, who was much of the same age, and went to school together with him at the same time, with one Mr E-ichard Brigs (afterward head master of the Free School at Norwich), then teaching at Pakenham church. He hath often told me that, when the boys were dismissed from school at the usual hours of elevei and five or six, and the rest would fall to their pastime, and some times to playing the wags with him, as being harmless and meani apparelled (for the most part in leather), it was this youth's con stant course, as soon as he could rid himself of their unpleasin; company, to take out of his pocket or satchel one book or other, and so to go reading and meditating till he came to his father's house, which was near a mile off, and so he went to school again. This was his order, also, when his father sent him to the Free School at Bury, three or four miles off, every day. Whereby the said Mr Clark did then conceive, that he would in time prove an excel- lent and able man, who of a child was of such a manly staidness, and indefatigable industry in his study.'* Milton's immortal portraiture of ' 21ie Child ' may be taken to describe Master Richard : — ' When I was yet a child, no chihlish play To me was pleasing ; all my mind was set, Serious to learn and know, and thence to do, What might bo public good.' — Paradise Regained. [B. i. 201 204.] The 'school near Pakenham church ' has long since disappeared, * ' Slaidmss' is the very word Lord Brooke uses to describe the youthhood of Sir Pliili[) Sidney : and indeed his whole description is reflected in the above. Cf. the Life of tlie renowned Sir I'hilip Sidney (ed. 1G52), pp. 6, 7. MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBEES, D.D. SXxi and no memorial whatever has been transmitted of it. The man- sion of Pakenham was the seat of the Gages, Avhence the mother of Sir Nicholas Bacon, father of the Bacon, came ; and later was the residence of Sir William Spring, at whose request Catlin drew up his notice of Sibbes. Probably, we err not in tracing back the after-friendship with Sibbes to those school-boy days. One likes to picture little Master Richard in his leathern suit (not at all uncom- mon at the period), studiously walking day by day from Pakenham to Thurston, and home again. Nor can we avoid thinking of other * boys,' who were then likewise ' at school,' and destined to cross one another's paths. Not a few of them will be found united in inti- mate friendship with the little leathern-suited pupil of Master Brigs. With others he came into conflict. They are relegated to a foot- note.* Having obtained all that he could, apparently, at the school of Master Brigs (of whom nothing has come down), little Richard, as our last citation from the vicar's manuscript has anticipated us in stating, was sent to Bury St Edmunds, to the ' Free School' there, by which must be intended the still famous * School ' founded by Edward VI. ; and we can very well understand the zest with which one so thoughtful and eager would avail himself of the advantages of such an institution. Dr Donaldson has failed to enrol Sibbes among the celebrities of the school, an omission which, it is to be hoped, will * Contemporary ' boys.' The greatest of all, Master Willie Shakespeare, rising into his teens, has only very lately been tossing his auburn curls at Stratford 'school;' and, still a 'boy,' is now wooing his fair Anne Hathaway. Master Joseph Hall is playing about Bristow Park, Ashby-de la-Zouch, under the eye of Mi.'^tress Winifred, of whom he was to write so tenderly as his more than Monica. Away in the downs of Berks, diminutive Willie Laud is playing at marbles under the acacia-walk of Reading. Master George Herbert is ruffling the humour of his stately brother, afterwards Lord Herbert of Cherbury, the 'doubter,' by overturning a glass of malmsey on his slashed hose and ' roses of his shoon.' In not distant Tarring, Master John Selden is already storing up in the wizard cave of memory those treasures of learning the world is one day to marvel at. Masters Phineas and Giles Fletcher are truanting in the linden glades of their father's vicarage. Masters (ieorge Wither and Francis Quarles are agog (in strange contrast with their grim scorn of such ' gaudery,' by-and-byc) over their new lace-frill. Master William Browne is chasing the butterflies in Tavistock. Masters Ussher andHobbes are perchance busy over their ABC. Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher are still asunder. Master Massinger, tossing ha'pence under the minster of Salisbury, no vision yet of the ' Virgin Martyr,' and no shadow of the ' stranger s grave ' he is to fill. Moreover, as Master Sibbes was thus footing it between Thurston and Bury, men were alive who had seen martyr faces, ' pale i' the fire.' In the words of Bourne, of a few years earlier, 'The Engli!>h air was thick with sighs and curses. Great men [were] lu avy-hearted at the misery which had fallen upon the land .... and he [may] have listened to their earnest, mournful talk. (Memoirs of Philip Sidney, by H. R. Fox Bourne, 8vo, 18G2, pp. 9, 10. ) MEMOIR OF EICHARD SIBBES, D.D. henceforward be supplied, for any school may boast of a name so venerable as the author of the ' Bruised Reed.' In the ' registers of the school the name of Sibbes has not been recorded. One would have been glad to know some of his schoolmates. I am not aware that history or biography has named any of them, none at any rate more distinguished than himself The statutes and other documentary manuscripts of the school have been lost, and nothing is known of its celebrated scholars till 1610 — long subse- quent to Sibbes — when the list is headed by that twin-brother to Pepys, Sir Symonds D'Ewes. Only one Master is given before 1583, a Philip Mandevill. In 1583, the office was filled by a John Wright, M.A., and in 1596, by Edmund Coote, M.A., who seems to have pub- lished his ' English Schoolmaster ' (hardly to be placed beside ' The Schoolmaster ' of Roger Ascham, though not without merit), during his short term of office. The earliest extant list of 'boys' is dated 1656. It is a fine glimpse of the student-boy old Catlin gives, leisurely footing from Pakenham to Thurston, and it is to be remembered he did the same to the more distant Bury. We can avouch that, in this good year Eighteen hundred and sixty-two, twenty-fourth of Queen Victoria I., few more pleasant rural roads can be found than that which now winds from Thurston to Bury. On either side are picturesque hurdle-fences tangled with purple cornel, or hedge-rows odorous with hawthorn spray. But it must have been very different in Master Richard's time. Macadam was still unborn ; and even a century and half later, Arthur Young* has anything but praise for this turnpike. ' I was forced," he tells us in reference to it, ' to move as slow in it as in any unmended lane in Wales. For ponds of liquid dirt, and a scattering of loose flints, just sujficient to lame every horse that moves near them, with the addition of cutting vile grips across the road, under the pretence of letting the water off, but without effect, altogether render at least twelve out of these sixteen miles (between Bury and Sudbury) as infamous a turnpike as ever was beheld.' Alas ! for bookish, studious Master Richard, if he found his school-walk such a Slough-of-Despond. Sent to Bury ' Free School' (visiting which I looked up at the time- stained bust of its youthful royal founder with interest for Sibbes's sake, who, pcrcliance, practised his first Latin in spelling out the not over-elegant or accurate inscription beneath), there would, no doubt, be rapid advancement. But the ' child' had become a ' lad,' and again there was threatened interruption to his school-learning. I * ' Six Weeks' Tour tlirougli tlio Soulbern Counties of England and Wales.' 2d ed. 17G0. Pp. 88, 89. MEJIOIE OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. XXXIU find an objurgation rising to my lips against this so ' unwilling' father ; but it is silenced by the recollection of the vicar's testi- moiiy : ' He was a skilful and painful workman, and a good, sound- hearted Christian.' Master Catlm, I suspect thy sweet-nurtured charity was blind to Master Paul Sibs's penuriousness ! It may have been, again let us say, ))ressure of circumstances, many mouths to be fed, multiplied 'work' demanding another pair of hands. Still it is not altogether what we should like, to find Master Richard again hindered. ' His father,' continues our vicar, ' at length gretv weary of his exj^enses for books and learning, took him from school, bought him an axe and some other tools, and set him to his own trade, to the great discontent of the youth, whose genius wholly carried him another way.' So Master Paul Sibs proposed, but Another disposed. The lad was destined to work for his generation — and many generations — with other tools than these. CHAPTER III. STUDENT AND PREACHER AT CAMBRIDGE. Leaves Bury St Ednmnds for ' St Jolm's College,' Cambridge — Greaves — Knewstub — Eushbrook — Enters as ' sub-sizar ' — Jeremy Taylor 'pauper scholaris ' — Pro- gress—Degrees — B. A. — ' Fellow ' — M. A. — ' Taxer ' — B.D.— Paul Bayne — ' Conversion ' — A 'Preacher ' — Lectureship of' Trinity,' Cambridge — Memorial — ' Hobson ' — Accepts — Results — Samuel Clarke — Thomas Cawtou — John Cotton — ' Word in season ' to Thomas Goodwin — Prevalent ' preaching.' Once more vigilant friends stepped in. They saw the 'youth' set utterly against the grain, at the wheel- wright's bench. ' Where- upon,' approvingly, with the faintest touch of rebuke, chronicles good Zachary Catlin : ' Mr Greaves, then minister of Thurston, and Mr Rushbrook, an attorney there, knowing the disposition and fit- ness of the lad, sent him, witliout his father's consent, to some of the Fellows of St John's College of their acquaintance, with their letters of recommendation ; where, upon examination, he was so well approved of, that he was presently entertained as a sub-sizar, shortly after chosen scholar of the house, and at length came to be Fellow of the College, and one of the taskers of the university ; his father being hardly brought to allow him twenty nobles a year to- wards his maintenance in Cambridge, to which some good friends in the country, Mr Greaves, Mr Knewstub, and some others, made some addition, for a time, as need required.' I am sure all my readers will wish that we knew more of those ' ffood friends.' All XXXIV MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. honour to the memory of ' Mr Greaves and Mr Rushbrook.' Of ' Mr Knewstub,' the scholarly, the pious, the brave-hearted, no ad- mirer of the Puritans needs to be informed. His is truly a historic clarum et venerabile nomen. His letter of recommendation to St John's College would have the greater weight, in tliat he was one of its greatest lights, and, subsequently, its benefactor. One is pleased, nevertheless, to learn that it was ' upon examination,' not mere ' recommendation,' the youth was received. He was then in his eighteenth year. Entered as a sub-sizar, which is even beneath a sizar, young Sibbes must have been placed at a disadvantage. Jeremy Taylor, however, was entered as 'pauper scholaris,' lower still. That has transfigured, if not ennobled, the lowly ' sizar.' Cer- tainly the more honour is due to those who, starting with the meanest, have won for themselves the highest places. How many who entered among the highest are forgotten, while the lapse of time only brightens the lustre of our ' sub-sizar' and the * pauper scholaris.' The career of Sibbes at the university was singularly successful, and indicates in the son of the wheel-wright of Tostock and Thurston, no common energy and devotion to study. It is probable that his 'school-learning' at Pakenham and Bury St Edmunds, alike, was frequently interrupted and hindered. Nevertheless, he seems to have at once placed himself abreast of the most favoured students. The records and registers of St John's College, shew that he passed B.A. in 1598-9 ; was admitted ' Fellow' 3d April 1601, commenced M.A. in 1602, taxer (the ' tasker' of Catlin) in 1608, was elected 'College Preacher' feast of 1st March 1609, and graduated B.D. in 1610. We must return upon these dates. When Sibbes, in 1595, pro- ceeded to Cambridge, ' without the consent of his father,' but with kind words of cheer and something more from Mr Greaves, Mr Knew- stub, and Mr Rushbrook, it does not appear that he had any specific intentions in regard to the future. An academic life was evidently his ambition ; but to what profession, whether divinity, law, or medicine, he was ultimately to devote himself, was probably left undetermined. An event, or more accurately, the one great event and ' change' in every man — his conversion (I like and therefore use the good old puritan, because Biblical, word), in all likelihood led him to decide to serve God in the ministry of the gospel of his Son. Paul Bayne, sometimes Baine and Baines, one of the most remarkable of the earlier ' Doctrinal Puritans' (that name of stigma imposed by Laud), whose ' Letters,' second only to those of Samuel Rutherford, and other minor books, were long the chosen fireside reading of every MEMOIR OF EICHAKD SIBBES, D.D. XXXV puritan household, and whose ' Exposition of Ephesians' is worthy to take its place beside Rogers and Byfield on Peter, Jenkyn on Jude, Petter on Mark, Elton on Colossians and Romans, Newton on John, and their kindred folios, that lie now-a-days like so many unworked mines of gold — had succeeded Perkins as preacher at St Andrew's, Cambridge, ' and it pleased God,' says Clarke, ' to make him an instrument of the conversion of that holy and eminent servant of Christ, Dr Sibbes.' Sibbes himself is reverently reticent on the momentous matter, even in his preface to Bayne's ' Exposi- tion of the first chapter of Ephesians' (published separately in 1618), making no allusion to it ; but it probably took place somewhere about 1602-3.* In 1602, having passed M.A., he shortly there- after became a 'preacher.' By 1608 'he was a preacher of good note.' Where he did preach we are not informed. In his address to the reader prefixed to the 'Soul's Conflict,' he states that the ' Sermons' which compose it had been preached first of all ' about twelve years' before 'in the city,' i.e., London, and afterwards at ' Gray's Inn.' I have utterly failed to come upon any memorial of this ' city' ministry ; but it is probable that it was commenced between 1602 and 1607. Elected 'College Preacher' in 1609, he must have been then well known and distinguished. In 1610, when he had graduated B.D., another very important event happened. In that year a 'Memorial' was addressed to him, which, in so far as I can learn, appears to have been the origin of the subsequently celebrated ' Trinity Lectureship,' held since by some of the greatest names of the church. The memorial gives us * ' Conversion .... reticent.' This is quite in accord with Sibhes's declared senti- ments. I would refer the reader to ' The Description of Christ,' pp. 30, 31. There he will find not more sound than admirably expressed counsels and warnings as to the 'vainglory' of publishing abroad things too solemn to be so dealt with. I assume the responsibility of affirming, that at no period have those warnings been more demanded than the present. Every one who ' loves the Lord,' who prays and longs for the coming of ' the kingdom,' who mourns the wordliness and coldness of all sec- tions of Christ's divided church, must rejoice in the past two years' awakening and * revival.' 1 would gladly recognise the work of the Spirit of God in much that has taken place. I verily believe very many have been 'born again,' and more who were half asleep have been stirred and quickened. At the same time, it were to be un- faithful and untruthful to blink the ' evil' that has mingled with the ' good.' It becomes every reverent soul to protest against those premature declarations of ' con- versions,' and publication of 'expcrieftces' that have got so common. It is perilous to forget the Master's words, Luke xvii. 20. Paul was fourteen years a ' servant' of Christ before he made known his ineffable rapture and vision. Modern ' converts,' do not allow as many hours to expire ere their whole story is blazoned in the public prints. Surely a thing so awful and so sacred, unless in very exceptional instances, is for the ear of God alone. The Tract Societies would act wisely if they circulated by thousands as a ' Tract for the Times,' Sibbes's priceless words of ' Vainglory.' VOL. I. C XXXVl MEMOIR OF RICHABD SIBBES, D.D. insight into the! popularity of Sibbes as a preacher.* The ortho- graphy and wording of the original are retained : — * A Coppye of the general request of the inhabitants of o'' p'ishe deliv'ed to Mr Sibs, publique p'acher of the house of Cambridge. ' We wbose names ar heerunderwritten, the Churchevvardens and P'ishion- ers of Trinity p'ishe in Cambridge, with the ful and fre consent of Mr Jhon Wildbore o'' minister, duely considering the extream straytnes & div'se other discomodities concerning the accustomed place of y^ exercise & desireing as much as in vs lyeth y* more publique benefit of yo" ministery, doe earnestlye entreat j'ou wold be pleesed to accept of o' p'ishe Churche, which al of vs doe willinglye offer you for & concerning the exercising of yOf ministery & awditorye at the awntient and usual daye & houre. In witnes hereof wee have heervnto set to o' hands this 22th (sic) of Noveber 1610. ' John Wilbore, Minister. ' Edward Almond, ) ^i , , ' Thomas Bankes, } ^^^'^^^^^'^'l^^^- (Signed also by 29 Parishioners.) The churchwardens of the parish having kindly permitted access to their ' Records,' I hnd amongst them a list of the names of the sub- scribers to the lectureship in the several parishes of the town, with the amount of each person's subscription, which runs generally 13s. 4d., 10s., and 6s. 8d. per annum. Three gave £i per annum each, of whom one was Mr Hobson, the carrier, immortalised by Milton, and later by Steele in the 'Spectator,' and to this day a ' household word' in Cambridge, in kindly eccentric associa- tion with the proverb, ' Hobson's choice, that or none,' which no one book-read will need explained. One thing is noticeable, that a goodly number of the signatures to the memorial are with marks -\-. This is of the last interest and not a little touching. The ' common people' heard Sibbes, like his Master, ' gladly,' and the 'straytnes of the place' hindered others. This is a sign of change for the better in Cambridge very worthy of observation. ' The old longing after that full preaching of the gospel which had \ characterised the period of Perkins's seraphic yet pungent ministry, was revived. Sibbes responded to the memorial, and immediately it was felt that ' Trinity' had a man of mark as its ' Lecturer,' the coequal of Bayne of St Andrew's. How those saintly servants of the same Lord would rejoice to be fellow-helpers of each other, the younger 'serving' with the elder, as a son with a father. The lectureship of ' Trinity' was a complete success. Besides the townsmen, many scholars resorted to him, whereby he became, in the words of Clarke, a ' worthy instrument of begetting many sons * ' Trinity Lectureship.' Tho ' Memorial' is given by Mr Cooper in his Annala of Cambridge, iii. 168. MEMOIR OF EICHAKD SIBBES, D.D. XXXVU and daughters unto God, besides the edifying and building up of others.'* We have incidental confirmations of the weighty testimony of the * Pastor of St Bennet Fink, London.' More generally, in that curious little rarity of Puritan biography, ' The Life and Death of that Holy and Reverend man of God, Mr Thomas Cawton't (1662), we read ' He conscientiously and constantly laboured to counter- work those factors of hell, and drove a trade for God in bestirring himself to insinuate into any lad that was ingenious, and was very successful therein, to the astonishment and confusion of his opposers. Many had great cause to bless God for him, and their first acquaintance with him, for his bringing them to Dr Preston's and Dr Sibbes, his Lectures in those times.' More specially. Cot- ton Mather, the Thomas Fuller of New England, tells us of one memorable conversion through his instrumentality — John Cotton, who was in turn the * leader to Christ ' of a greater than himself, Dr Preston, and whom Oliver Cromwell himself addressed as ' my esteemed friend.']: It were like to rubbing off with coarse fingers the powder from a moth's wing, in any wise to change the loving and grave narrative. It is as follows : — ' Hitherto we have seen the life of Mr Cotton while he was not yet alive ! Though the restraining and prevent- ing grace of God had kept him from such outbreakings of sin as defile the lives of most in the world, yet like the old man who for such a cause ordered this epitaph to be written on his grave, "Here lies an old man who lived but seven years," he reckoned himself to have been but a dead man as being " alienated from the Ufe of God," until he had experienced that regeneration in his own soul, which was thus accomplished. The Holy Spirit of God had been at work upon his young heart, by the ministering of that reverend and renowned preacher of righteousness, Mr Perkins ; but he resisted and smothered those convictions through a vain persuasion, that if he became a godly man 'twould spoil him for being a learned one. Yea, such was the secret enmity and prejudice of an unregenerate soul against real holiness, and such the torment which our Lord's witnesses give * Clarke, Lives of Thirty-two English Divines, 3d edition, 1677, folio, p. 143. t ' Cawton,' p. 11. X Cotton and Cromwell. The letter of the great Protector, alluded to, a very striking one, will be found in Brook's Lives of the Puritans, iii. 158-9. It is also given with characteristic annotation in Carlyle's ' Cromwell,' iii. 221-225 (3d ed. 1850). When, may I ask in a foot-note, will America give us worthy editions of the still inedited and uncollected ' Works' of John Cotton, Thomas Hooker, Daven- port, and others of their kindred ? Surely this were better than much that has beea reprinted over the Atlantlo* XXXVlll MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. to the consciences of the earthly-minded, that when he heard the bell toll for the funeral of Mr Perkins, his mind secretly rejoiced in his deliverance from that powerful ministry by which his conscience had been so oft beleaguered ; the remembrance of which things after- wards did break his heart exceedingly ! But he was at length more effectually awakened by a sermon of Dr Sibs, wherein was dis- coursed the misery of those who had only a negative righteousness, or a civil, sober, honest blamelessness before men. Mr Cotton became now very sensible of his own miserable condition before God ; and the errors of those convictions did stick so fast upon him, that after no less than three years disconsolate apprehensions under them, the grace of God made him a thoroughly renewed Christian, and filled him with a sacred joy which accompanied him into the ful- ness of joy for ever. For this cause, as persons truly converted unto God have a mighty and lasting affection for the instruments of their conversion, thus Mr Cotton's veneration for Dr Sibs was after this very particular and perpetual, and it caused him to have the picture of that great man in that part of his house where he might oftenest look upon it.'* Various similar iniemorahilia might be here adduced from the Puritan 'Biographies' and 'Histories.' One additional 'word in season,' spoken to Dr Thomas Goodwin, may suffice. In his earlier days this celebrated divine leant to Arminianism rather than to Calvinism, and it was through Sibbes that his views were cleared, to his life-long satisfaction, on the point of Jesus Christ being the Head and Representative of his people. It is also recorded that, in familiar discourse with Goodwin, Sibbes said, 'Young man, if you ever would do good, you must preach the gospel, and the free grace of God in Christ Jesus. 'f The counsel was as a ' nail in a sure place,' and no reader of Goodwin needs to be told how fully and magnifi- cently he sets forth the ' grace' of God in Christ. Well was it that such men as Paul Bayne and Richard Sibbes were preachers in such a place and at such a time. From contem- porary accounts it is apparent, that notwithstanding the profound impression 'on the town' by Perkins, and notwithstanding that there were a few who, Mary-like, 'kept all the things' they had heard from him, ' and pondered them in their hearts,' Cambridge was sunken down, as a whole, to all its former indiiferentism and for- mality. The preaching that was fashionable among the 'wits' of * Cotton. Magnalia Christi Americana ; or the Ecclesiastical History of New England, book iii., c i., § 5, p, 15. Folio, 1702. t Robert Trail, A.M., Justification by Faith, Works, vol. i. p. 261 (edition 4 vols. 8vo, 1810). MEMOIR OF KICEARD SIBBES, D.D. TTTIX the university was a very different thing from the stern reproofs, bold invectives, burning remonstrances, prophet-like appeals of William Perkins. What was now cultivated and extolled was a frivolous, florid eloquence, that boasted itself on its deftly-turned tropes, its high-flown paraphrases of the classics, especially Seneca and Cicero, and the Fathers, the multiplied quotations of the ' ser- mons ' published shewing like purple patches on a thread-bare robe. There was trick of manner, mellifluous cadence, simpering refine- ment, nothing more. The Senhouses et hoc genus omne sprinkled eau-de-cologne over their hearers (if they durst it had been ' holy water'), while parched lips were athirst for the ' living water' — tickled the ear when the heavily-laden soul sought pardon, the weary rest, the bruised balm. The cross lifted up on Calvary be- neath the pallid heavens — the cross as proclaimed by Paul — was ' vulgar,' and to be kept out of sight. The awful blood must first be wiped off — the coarse nails withdrawn. Whoso gainsays, let him turn to their extant ' Sernx)ns.' But amid the faithless some faithful were found. There were some not ashamed of the gospel/ some who could stand and withstand 'the loud laugh.' The 'towns- people' would have that which the ' collegians' (so they called them) rejected. In such circumstances we may conceive that the ministry of Sibbes could scarcely fail to be a ministry of power. ' The Day* alone will fully reveal its fruits. CHAPTER IV. * preacher' at gray's inn, LONDON. 'Deprived' of Lectureship and 'Outed' from Fellowship — Sir Henry Yelverton — ' Preacher' at Gray's Inn — Correction of date — The ' Chapel' — The ' Inn' — Segar MS.— The Auditory— Lord Bacon. From 1610 to 1615, Sibbes held his lectureship and other honours without molestation. But in the latter year he was de^ prived (' outed,' says Clarke) both of his fellowship and lecture. Even thus early Laud was at work against all Puritanism and 'preaching ;' and this was the manner of his working. However, as in many other instances, while there was unquestionable hard- ship and hurt done by the double deprivation, it ' fell out for the furtherance of the gospel' Sir Henry Yelverton, that ' constant patron to godly ministers,' stepped in and secured the 'preacher- f hip ' of ' Gray's Inn,' London, for him. All preceding authorities ll MEMOIR OF EICHAKD SIBBES, D.D. give 1618 — the 'Synod of Dort' year — or 'about 1618,' as the date of this well-timed appointment. This is incorrect. I found the fol- lowing entry in the ' Order-Books : ' * ; * Quinto die, Feb. a.d. 1616. • At this penton [pension] Mr Kichd. Sibbs is chosen preacher of Graies Inne ; and it is ordered that he shal be continually resident, and shaU not take any other benefice or livinge.' f This appointment introduced him at a bound to the first society of the metropolis. Among the treasures of the British Museum is a noble folio, drawn up from the books of 'Gray's Inn,' by Segar, one of the society's former ' butlers.' + In it, with superb blazonry of shield and scutcheon, and all the 'pomp of heraldry,' are registered the names of those who were resident 'readers, benchers, an- cients, barristers, students,' from the earliest date. If one had the Greek of Homer, or the 'large utterance' of Milton, or even the rhetoric of Macaulay, it were possible to revivify the auditory of the 'chapel.' A more illustrious can scarcely be imagined. The flower of the old nobility, the greatest names of the state and of history, men who mark epochs, were embraced in it. I have looked through the roll from 1616 to 1635 — the period of Sibbes's; office — and almost at random I note Abbots and Ashleys, Audleys and Amhersts, Bacons and Barnardistons, Boyles and Brookes, Bradshaws and Barrows, Cromwells and Cholmleys, Cornwallises * 'Order Books.' These are deposited at 'Gray's Inn,' -where I had the privilege of an unrestricted examination of them. The volume from which I make all my excerpts, is a huge folio, marked ' Gray's Inn. Book of Orders. II. of Eliz. to XVIII. of Ghs. II.' t ' Chapel ' of ' Gray's Inn.' I cull from the ahove authority a record of the foundation of the ' preachership ' to which Sibbes was elected : — Chapell. ' It ai)pearoth as well by a deed of the Cort of Augmentacons, bearings date the 10th of November, in ye 33th (sic) yeare of ye reigne of King Henry 8. As also by an Exemplificacon thereof, made ye 12th November in ye said yeare. As also by anotluT Exemplificacon thereof, granted by ye late Queen Elizab., dated at "Westminster tlic 12t]i of ffebruary, in the fourth yeare of her reigne. That ye treasurer of ye Cort of Augmentacons, of ye said revenue of ye crowne, for the time beinge, sliould yeavely pay out of ye said treasurrcs to ye treasurer of ye house of Qrayc's Tun, Nigh llolborne, in ye county of Midd. for ye time being, ye sume of vi xiij iiij'' (£G, 13s. 4d ), in recompense of a yearly stipend of vij xiij iiij (£7, 133. 4d ), well, was duely proved before yo said Cort of Augmentacons to be issuinge out of yo possessions of yo late monasterie of St Bartholomew in Smithfield, besides London ; and of riglit payabhi, time out of mind, by ye prior and convent of the said monastrie and tlieir p'decossors, for ye findinge of a cliaplaine to celebrate divine Bervico in yo chapell of Graye's Inn aforesaid, for ye students, gent., and fellowes of ye said house," &c. &c. &c. t ' Segar.' Harleian MSS . 1912. 94, c. 25. Plut, xlvii. E folio. MEMOIB OF EICHAED SIBBES, D.D. xli and Chetwinds, Drakes and Egertons, Fairfaxes and Fitzgeralds, Nevills and Pelhams, Riches and Sidneys, Staffords and Stanleys, Standishes and Talbots, "Wallers, and Vaughans, and Veres.* Truly the wheel-wright's son has a worthy audience ; ay, and what is better, he is worthy of the audience. At the date of Sibbes's appointment, the greatest of all the names enumerated, Francis Bacon, had ' chambers ' in Gray's Inn ; and, after his fall, was a permanent resident.-j* When it was dark with him, he had Sibbes for his ' preacher.' Am I wrong in thinking that the touching appeal of the stricken Lord Chancellor to his peers, recorded by every biographer, ' I am a bruised reed' may have been a reminiscence of the golden-syllabled words which he had heard from the 'preacher' at Gray's Inn ? I know not that the author of the Bruised Reed is once named * ' Gray's Inn.' I may give in a foot-note, from Segar's folio, the earlier history of the Society with which the name of Sibbes is so indissolubly associated. Having recited certain ancient mediseval-Latin records, which are also supplemented by prior relations to the Dean and Chapter of St Paul's, the chronicler proceeds : — 'By all V"" severall offices, it appeares that the said manor of Portepole, now Gray's Inne, or within ye which a part of Graye's Inne is now situate, was anciently the Inheritance of the Grayes. But I do not find in any of ye said former, &c. . . , that any Gray, lord or owner of ye said manor or messuage, did at any time reside there. Keginald de Gray, in ye 44th year of ye reign of Kinge Edw. 3, for ye yearly ren' of Q ('?), as is mentioned in ye office, then found after his decease. And in ye w* office (the same beinge in form"^ inquisitions named mesuagium), is thereby fouid to he hospitium and in lease whereby it's manifested yt. ye house then and yet Inowne by the name of Gray's Inn, was demised to some p'sons of speciall regard and rank, and not to meane ones, or p'sons of meane or privat behav'-, but to such as were united into a Society p'fessinge ye lawes, that in those daycs begunn to congregat and setle themselves within ye Court (?) as an associated company entertayning hospitalitie together. And then this house grew to be off an higher title in ienominacon and became to be totally termed by ye Intitulacon of Hospitium in Portopole. And it also appeareth that ye said Keginald de Gray devised ye saic messuage as aforesaid in ye reigne of King Edw. 3. in his life- time, and at his death was held for liospitium and by the jury before whom ye said inquisition was taken in ye said 44th yeare of Edw. 3d (a" 1370), was found to bee hospitium, and not mesuaginm. Imediatly whereupon ye said hospitium is called Grey's Itne, or Hospitium Graiorum, for that that estate had been see long and by 8oe man/ severall descents in yt name,' &c. &c. &c. This quaint and curious narrative, which I believe is now for the first time pub- lished, explains the origin of the name ' Gray's Inn.' Those interested will find much aiditional information in Segar, — all the more valuable that many of the originas were destroyed by a fire at Gray's Inn. These missing portions have been transcrhed, but not very accurately, for the Hon. Society. t ' lacon and Gray's Inn.' See an interesting chapter of an unusually interest- ing, bat not very accurate, book, Meteyard's ' Hallowed Sjiots of Ancient London ' (4tJ, 1862), entitled 'York House, Strand, and Gray's Inn,' pp. 80-99. An engrav- ing of ' Gray's Inn ' is given on page 90. I need hardly say that all the old build- irgs, and the ' faire gardenne,' with its Bacon-planted elms, have long disappeared. Xlii MEMOIK OF EICHARD SIBBES, D.D. in all Bacon's writings, but then neither is Shakespeare. Still, I cannot help rejoicing that, in his closing years of humiliation and penitence, while he was building up the Cyclopean masonry of his * Novum Organum,' he had Richard Sibbes to lift his thoughts higher. I delight to picture to myself the mighty thinker and the heavenly preacher walking in the 'faire gardenne' of the Inn, holding high and sanctified discourse.* I fancy I can trace the influence of Sibbes on Bacon, and of Bacon on Sibbes. There are in Sibbes many aphoristic sayings, pregnant seeds of thought, felicitous ' similies ' (so marked on the early margins), that bear the very mintage of the ' Essays ;' and again there is in them an insight into Scripture, a working in of its cloth-of-gold with his own medi- tations, an apposite quotation of its facts and words, that surely came of the sermons and private talk under the elms with Sibbes. It is something to know that two such men knew each other. The ' Bruised Reed ' and ' Soul's Conflict,' and indeed nearly all his works, present specimens of the kind of preaching to which the auditory of 'Gray's Inn' listened from Sunday to Sunday, One is gladdened to think that such men heard such preaching, so wise, so grave, so fervid, so Christful. There grew out of it life-long friendships. CHAPTER V. PROVOSTSHIP OF TRINITY COLLEGE, DUBLIN. Archbishop Ussher — Dr John Preston — Letter of Sibbes — Sir William Temple- Letters of Ussher to Archbishop Abbot and the Hon. Society of Gray's Inn— Sibbes to Ussher — Archbishop Abbot to Ussher — Declines the Provostship. Installed as 'preacher' at Gray's Inn, Sibbes seems to have acted up to the letter of his appointment ; which, it will be re- membered, required that he was ' to be continually resident,' and ' to take no other benefice or living.' This he continued appa- rently to do, with the exception of occasional ' sermons ' in the 'city 'or in Cambridge, until 1626. In that year new honours came to him. Archbishop Ussher sought to have him mace pro- vost of Trinity College, Dublin ; and he was elected, on the death of Dr John Hills, ' Master' of St Katherine Hall (now College) Cam- bridge. A very interesting correspondence remains in relation to * One asks wistfully if they took any note of one William Shakespeare, vho, within tbroo months of the appointment to the ' preachership' at ' Gray's Inn,' vas laid beside his little Hamnet by the Avon ! (Died, 23d April 161G.) MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. xliii the former, which I would now introduce. He had long been in intimate friendship with the illustrious primate of Ireland, who, on his visits to London, was wont to invite himself to his ' study/ * One early notice of their mutual regard is contained in a por- tion of a letter from Dr John Preston to Ussher. It is as fol- lows : 'March 16. 1619. — Your papers you shall surely have with you ; and if there be no remedy that I cannot see you myself, I shall entreat you to make 'plain to Mr Sihhes (or whom else you will) the last point especially, when the LXX weeks began, though I should speak to you about many other things.' f The following brief letter of Sibbes himself a few years onward, 1622, gives us a further glimpse of their relations, as well as of various memorable names and occurrences. Ussher was then Bishop of Meath. Mr R. Sibbs to the Bishop of Meath. I I could not, Right Eeverend Sir, omit so fit an opportunity of writing unto you as the coming of two of my worthy friends, Sir Nathaniel Rich and Mr Crew ; though it were but to signify unto you that I retain a thankful and respectful remembrance of your lordship's foimer love and kindness. Mr Crew is aheady known unto you ; Sir Nathaniel, I think, a stranger yet unto you ; you shall find him for sincerity, wisdom, and right judgment worthy your inward acquaintance. How matters stand here you shall have better information from those worthy gentlemen than from me. For Cambridge matters, I suppose your lordship hath already heard that Dr Ward is chosen professor in Dr Davenant's place ; there is hope of Mr Preston's coming to be lecturer at Lincoln's Inn, which place is now void. Mrs More, Mr Drake and his wife, Mr Dod, with others that love you heartily in the Lord, are in good health, the Lord be praised. Sir Henry Savil hath ended his days, secretary Murray succeeding him in Eton, but report wiU prevent my letter in this and other matters. Sir, I long to see your begim historical discourse of the perpetual continuity of a visible church, lengthened and brought to these latter times. No one point will stop the clamour of our adversaries more, nor furnish the weaker with a better plea. Others not veiy well afiected to the Waldenses, &c., for some tenets . . . have gone about to prove what you do some other ways. But perhaps the present exigence of j'our Church is such as taketh up your daily endeavours and thoughts. And I know the zeal of your heart for the public good will put you forward for whatsoever is for the best advantage of the common cause. I fear lest the encountering with that daring chal- * 'Ussher and Sibbes.' Brook's 'Lives of the Puritans,' vol. ii. p. 416, From Brook's own copy, interleaved and containing additional MS. notes. In the library of Joshua "Wilson, Esq , Tunbridge "Wells. t ' Preston and Ussher.' This and the succeeding correspondence I take from 'The whole "Works of the Most Kev. James Ussher, D.D., Lord Archbishop of Armagh and Primate of all Ireland. "With a Life of the Author, and an Account of his Writings. By Charles Richard Elrington, D.D., Begins Professor of Divinity in the University of Dublin. Dublin : Hodges & Smith. 16 vols. 8vo, 1847, seq.' See vol. xvi. p. ;^73 Elrington supersedes Parr (who also gives the most of the letters), and I therefore take the whole from him. X ' Sibbes to Usher.' Letter ccclxiii. Vol. xvi. p. 395, 396. Sliv MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. lenger breed you a succession of troubles. How far you have proceeded in this matter we know not. The Lord lead you through all conflicts and businesses, with comfortable evidence of his wisdom in guiding you, and goodness in a blessed issue. Your Lordship's in all Christian affection and service, E. SiBBS. Gray's Inn, March 21. 1622. Advancing to 1626-27, Ussher was now archbishop and primate, and involved in an imbroglio of political and ecclesiastical difficul- ties. His was only a splendid exile. He writes, half-mournfully, half in dread, under date ' Feby. 9th, 1626 :' — * As for the general state of things here, they are so desperate that I am afraid to write anything thereof.'* He was specially ' troubled ' in the matter of * Trinity College,' of which he was the patron. Sir William Temple was provost, and from his great age, utterly inefficient, and even in dotage. There were perpetual disputes between him and the ' fellows,' so much so that the removal of the provost, in some quiet manner, was felt to be the only method of preserving the discipline and good order of the college. To this Ussher addressed himself, and ultimately persuaded the old man — a not unhistoric name — to resign, on condition that Sibbes took his place. This we learn from a letter of the primate to Archbishop Abbot, to whom, on 10th January 1626-27, he writes : — 'The time is now come wherein we have at last wrought upon Sir William Temple to give up his place, if the, oilier may he drawn over' That ' other ' was Sibbes. But all difficulty about the resignation, with or without conditions, was unexpectedly removed by the death of Sir William, who expired on the 15th of January 1626-27, five days only after the date of Ussher's letter, — upon which he again wrote Abbot in favour of Sibbes. The whole correspondence is of the last interest, and is self-explanatory. It may now be given in order, the more so, that, excepting one of the letters, it has been overlooked or left unused : — The Archbishop of Armagh to the most Beverend George Abbot, Archbishop of Canterbunj.\ My most Gracious Lord, — When I took my last leave of you at Lam- beth, I made bold to move your grace for the settlement of the provostship of our college here upon some worthy man, whensoever the place should be- come void. I then recommended unto you Mr Sibbes, the preacher of Gray's Inn, with whose learning, soundness of judgment, and uprightness of life I was very well acquainted ; and it pleased your grace to listen unto my motion, and give way to the coming over of the person named, when time required. The time, my lord, is now come, wherein we have at last wrought Sir William Temple to give up his place, if the other may be * UsBher, xv. 365-6. t Ussher, letter cxxi. zv. 361-2. MEMOIR OF KICHABD SIBBES, D.D. xlv drawn over. And. therefore I most humbly entreat jonr grace to give unto Mr Sibbes that encouragement he deserveth ; in whose behalf I dare under- take that he shall be as observant of you, and as careful to put in execution all your directions, as any man whosoever. The matter is of so gi'eat im- portance for the good of this poor church, and j'our fatherly care, as well of the chui'ch in general, as our college in pai'ticular, so well known, that I shall not need to press you herein with many words. And therefore, leav- ing it wholly to your gi-ace's grave consideration, and beseeching Almighty God to bless you in the managing of your weighty employments, I humbly take my leave, and rest. Your grace's in all duty, ready to be commanded, J. A. Drogheda, January 10. 1626. At the same time, the primate addressed a similar letter to the * Honourable Society of Gray's Inn,' to deprecate their putting any obstacles in the way of Sibbes's acceptance. By a slip of the pen, he inserts — ' Lincoln's' instead of ' Gray's ' Inn. As himself formerly 'preacher' in ' Lincoln's,' the mistake was natural : — The Archbishop of Armagh to the Honourable Society of Gray s-Inn.'-f- My most worthy Friends, — I cannot sufficiently express my thankful- ness unto you for the honour which you have done unto me, in vouchsafing to admit me into your society, and to make me a member of yoiu- own body. Yet so is it fallen out for the present, that I am enforced to dis- charge one piece of debt with entering into another. For thus doth the case stand with us. Sir William Temple, who hath governed om- college at Dublin these seventeen years, finding age and weakness now to increase upon him, hath resolved to ease himself of that burthen, and resign the same to some other. Now of all others whom we could think of, your worthy preacher Mr Sibbes is the man upon whom all our voices have here settled, as one that hath been well acquainted with an academical life, and singularly well quahfied for the undertaking of such a place of government. I am not ignorant what damage you are to sustain by the loss of such an able man, with whose ministry you have been so long acquainted ; but I consider withal, that you are at the well-head, where the defect may quickly be supplied ; and that it somewhat also tendeth to the honour of your Society, that out of all the king's dominions your house should be singled out for the place unto which the seminary of the whole Church in this king- dom should have recourse for help and succour in this case. And therefore my most earnest suit unto you is, that you would give leave unto Mr Sibbes to repair hither, at leastwise for a time, that he may see how the place will like him. For which great favour our whole Church shall be obhged unto you : and I, for my part, shall evermore profess myself to rest Your own in all Christian service, Ready to be commanded, J. A. Drogheda, January 10. 1626. Further : — The Archbishop of Annar/h to the most Beverend George Abbot, Archbishop of Canterbury. \ My very good Lord, — I wrote unto your grace heretofore concerning * Usslier, letter cxx., xv. 363-4. t Ussher, letter cxxi., xy. 366. Xlvi MEMOIR OF EICHAED SIBBES, D.D. the substitution of Mr Sibbes into the place of Sir "WiUiam Temple. But having since considered with myself how some occasions may fall out that may hinder him from coming hither, and how many most unfit persons are now putting in for that place, I have further emboldened myself to signify- thus much more of my mind unto you, that in case Mr Sibbes do not come unto us, I cannot think of a more worthy man, and more fitted for the government of that college, than Mr Bedel, who hath heretofore remained with Sir Henry Wotton at Venice, and is now beneficed about Berry. If either he, or Dr Featly, or any other worthy man whom you shall think fit, can be induced to accept of the place ; and your grace will be pleased to advise the fellows of the college to elect him thereunto ; that poor house shall ever have cause to bless your memory for the settlement of it at such a time as this, where so many labour to make a prey of it. Of the ' occurrences ' that might ' fall out ' to hinder Sibbes from coming, the primate had been informed in our next letter : — Mr R. Sibbs to the Archhishop of Aiinar/h.* Right Rev. and iry very good Lord, — I answered your letters presently upon the receipt of them, but out of a mind diversely affected as divers things presented themselves to me ; it much moved me when I perceived your great care of the place, the cost, the trouble, the more than ordinary inclination towards me, far beyond any deserts of mine. Yet as I signi- fied to your grace, when I consider God's pro\adence in raising me so little before, to another place, and that compatible with my present employment here in London, it moveth me to think it were rash to adventure upon another place. And I have entered into a course of procuring some good to the college, which is like to be frustrate, if I now leave them, and they exposed to some who intend to serve their own tm-n of them. The scandal whereof would lie upon me. The judgment of my friends here is for my stay, considering I am fixed already, and there must be a call for a place ; as to a place, they allege the good which may be done, and doubtfulness of good succession here ; and that it were better that some other man had that place that were not so fixed here. These and such like considerations move them to think, that when your lordship shall know how it is with me at this time, that you will think of some other successor. Nothing of a great time so much troubled me. I humbly desire you, my lord, to take in good part this my not accepting, considering now there be other difficulties than were when you were in England with us. It is not yet openly known that I refuse it, that so you may have time of pitching upon another, I write now this second time, fearing lest my former letter might miscany. I could set the comfort by jou against many objections, were not that late chief in Cambridge. I count it one part of my happiness in especial man- ner, that ever I knew your lordship ; the remembrance of you will be fresh in my heart whilst I live, which will move me to desire the multiplying of all happiness upon you and yours. I have not delivered the letter to my lord of Canterbuiy, because it hath reference to the business as it concemeth me. The Lord continue to honour you in his service for the good of many, and to keep you in these dangerous times. — Your Grace's to command in the Lord, R. Sibbs. Gray's Inn, Feb. 7. A.D. 1626. I humbly desire you to remember my service and respects to Mrs Ussher. * Ussher, letter ccclxxxvi., x a i. J40-1. MEMOIR OF RICHAED SIBBES, D.D. xlvU Upon receipt of this the primate wrote :* — ' But now very lately, even by the last packet, I have received a letter from Mr Sibbs, signifying his doubtfulness of accepting the place of provost here (he having beine at the same time chosen head of another college in Cambridge), which hath much altered our intentions.' A few days later, Ussher was informed more definitely by Dr Samuel Ward of Sibbes's election to the Mastership of ' Catherine Hall.' I give an extract, with context, as it introduces to us an eminent ornament of Sibbes's circle : — Dr Samuel Ward to Ussher — London, ' Feb. 13. 162G.'f The 25th of January deceased your good friend and mine, Mr Heiuy Alvey, at Cambridge. I was with him twice when he was sick : the first time I found him sick, but very patient and comfortable. He earnestly prayed that God would give him patience and perseverance. The later time I came he was in a skimber, and did speak nothing : I prayed for him, and then departed. Shortly after he departed this life. He desired to be buried privately, and in the churchyard, and in a sheet only, without a coffiu, for so, said he, was om* Saviour. But it was thought fitting he should be put in a coifin, and so he was : I was at his interring the next day at night. Thus God is daily coUecting his saints to himself. The Lord prepare us all for the dies ascensionis, as St Cyprian st}leth it. Since the death of Dr Walsall, Dr GosHn, our vice-chancellor, and Dr HiU, master of St Katherine Hall, are both dead. In their places succeed, in Bennet College, Dr Butts ; in Caius College, Mr Bachcroft, one of the fel- lows ; in Katherine Hall, Mr Sibbes of Grays Inn. Notwithstanding Sibbes's intimation, that he had not delivered the primate's letter to Abbot, he must have subsequently changed his mind, and done so. To Ussher's recommendation, Archbishop Abbot lent a cordially willing ear. This appears by his letter in reply, which woidd also seem to indicate that Sibbes had been persuaded to go over to Ireland, probably to consult personally with his friend : — The most Reverend George Abbot, Archbishop of Canterbury, to the Archbishop of Armacjh.X My very good Lord, — I send unto you Mr Sibbes, who can best report what I have said unto him. I hope that college shall in him have a veiy good master, which hitherto it hath not had. You shall make my excuse to the feUows that I write not unto them. You shall do well to pray to God that he wiU bless his church ; but be not too solicitous in that matter, which will faU of itself, God Almighty being able and ready to support his own cause. But of aU things take heed that you project no new ways ; for if they faU you shah bear a grievous burden ; if they prosper, there shall be no thanks to you. Be patient, and tarry the Lord's leism'e. And so com- mending me unto you, and to the rest of yqui' brethren, I leave you to the Almighty, and remain, Your lordship's loving brother, G. Cant. Lambeth, March 19. 1626. Sibbes no doubt found, on his arrival in Dublin, that the ' place • Ussher, letter cccxci., xvi. 453. f Ussher, xv. 369. J Usshen xv. 376 Xlviii MEMOIR OF EICHARD SIBBES, D.D. was likely. to prove harassing, and to lead him into controversy. A sentence from a letter of Joseph Mede, in like circumstances, explains his declinature : — ' I would not/ he writes to Ussher, ' be willing to adventure into a strange country upon a litigious title, having seen the bad experience at home of perpetual jars and dis- contents from such beginnings.' * Similar reasons, combined with the attractions of Gray's Inn and Cambridge, led Sibbes to return, leaving the provostship of Trinity College, Dublin, to be filled by the afterwards revered Bishop Bedell. CHAPTER VI. MASTER OF CATHARINE HALL, CAMBRIDGE. Accepts Mastership — Relaxation of ' order' at Gray's Inn — Founder of Catharine Hall and its celebrities — Its condition — ' Troublous times' — Dr John Preston — Trinity Lectureship — Bishopric declined — Friendship between Sibbes and Preston — Fellow-labourers — Conversion of Preston — The effect of the preach- ing of the two Puritan Masters — Auditory of St Mary's — Memorials of Trinity Lecture — Success of Sibbes as Master — Clarke and Fuller — Fellows. Having dechned the Provostship of Trinity College, Dubhn, Sibbes at once accepted the Mastership of Catharine Hall, Cam- bridge, to which, as has been narrated, he was almost simultane- ously elected. No record remains of the influence used to secure this coveted and often contested honour for the 'outed' Fellow and ' deprived' Lecturer. It is not improbable that it was to Dr John Preston, the Puritan Master of the 'nest of Puritans' (so his enemies designated it), Emmanuel, that he was indebted. Preston was then in the height of his favour with the Duke of Buckingham, — the acceptance of whose patronage is one of the stains upon the memory of the Puritans. He had long been in close friendship with the preacher of Gray's Inn. There must have been some relaxation of the 'order' under which Sibbes accepted the appointment of preacher to Gray's Inn, — to admit of his accepting the mastership of Catharine Hall, without resignation of the other. The statute is very explicit, as will be seen : — ' 15 Nov. 40 Eliz. (1598-9). — The divinity-reader to be chosen shall be nominated, having oio ecclesiastical prefer- ment other than a prebend without cure of souls, nor readership in an}'' other place ; and shall keep the same place as long as he con- tinues thus qualified, and no longer ; and to be charged with reading but twice a week, except when there is a communion.'")" * Ussher, as ante, p. 455-56, vol. xvi. t This ' order ' was made in the term provious to the election of the successor of ■MEMOIR OF EICHARD SIBBES, D.D. tIi't There were then, as now, the two distinct offices of reader, some- times called chaplain, and of preacher, sometimes called lecturer, and as in above order, ' divinity-reader.' * So that it was the more easy to arrange for Sibbes's absence during the week. From an entry, under date 19th Jan. 1612, we learn that * The preacher, ye chap- lain, ye steward were to be allowed such commons as gentlemen.'] Not as ' gentleman ' merely, but as associate and friend, was Sibbes regarded. The anxiety of the ' ancients, barris- ters, students,' to retain his services, would also smoothe the way to place in practical desuetude the ' order ' as to * no other ecclesiastical 'preferment! Be all this as it may, Sibbes entered on the master- ship of Catharine Hall forthwith. | Catharine or Katharine Hall, on whose Mastership Sibbes thus entered, was then, as it continues, one of the minor Colleges of the University. Yet is it not without its own celebrities, even the foremost names of English theology, Church and Puritan, before and since. It proudly tells of John Bradford the martyr, John Maplet, John Overall, William Strong, Ralph Robinson, Ralph Brownrig, John Arrowsmith, William Spurstowe, James Shirley (the dramatist), John Lightfoot, Thomas Goodwin, John Ray, Wil- liam Wotton, John Strype, Thomas Sherlock, Joseph Milner, and has recently lost Charles Hardwick. It was founded by a Robert Woodlark, D.D., § (whose name has passed away like his namesake's song of a previous summer), in 1475 ; and took its name in honour of the ' virgin and martyr St Katherine.' Its original endowment, beyond ' the tenements and garden,' was small for even those days. a certain Dr Crooke, •who was preacher from 1583 to 1599. His successor was a Mr Fenton, elected 7th Feb., 41st Eliz., 1598-99. In respect to the preacher being unmarried, the ' order ' was rigid, and probably explains why Sibbes remained so to the end. I cull a couple of entries that don't say very much for the chivalry of the Gray's Inn authorities : — 1612. 'A ffine paid upon change of life.' 1630, ' Noe women to come into any pt. of ye Chapell.' 1647, ' No familie to bee in the house.' — Segar MS. * ' Chaplain.' — I note certain little memoranda in relation to the ' Chaplain,' as distingushed from the ' preacher :' the later from Segar, being one of the items included in the destroyed originals — the warrrant itself having perished ; and the earlier from the 'order-book' at Gray's Inn: — 1625, Warrant (granted) to pay to the treasurer of Gray's Inn £6:13:4, June 25. yearly, during pleasure, for a chap- lain to read service daily in the chapel there. An earlier entry runs thus : — ' 5th Feb. 1620. Mr Finch allowed 4/ a week for reading in the Chappell.' t ' Order-Book' Gray's Inn, p. 16, Segar MS. X In Carter's History of the University of Cambridge (pp. 202-6), and Graduati Cantabrigienses, Dr Brownrig is erroneously stated to have been elected Master of Catharine Hall in 1631. Even so accurate a writer as Mr Russell (' Memorials of Fuller', p. 114) repeats the blunder. § ' Dr Woodelark.' The Cambridge Antiquarian Society have published a Cata- logue of Books presented by the founder to ' Catharine HaU.' I MEMOIE OF RICHAKD SIBBES, D.D. It had some subsequent 'benefactors,' among whom appear, earlier and later, Barnardistons and Clajrpoles. At the period of Sibbes's election, the buildings were dilapidated, the revenues limited, the students few in number. But he threw his whole soul into his office, and speedily not only attracted a fair share of young men, but also persuaded his many noble and wealthy friends to become ' benefactors.' So early as 1G30, there were no fewer than twenty- eight new entries of students ; and, by that time, the hall was reno- vated and adorned. Sibbes entered on his mastership in ' troublous times.' When deprived of his ' lectureship' at Trinity — which in all probability, as we said, originated with the memorial addressed to him by the parishioners — he was succeeded by a John Jeffrey, of Pembroke Hall, wha resigned in 1621. Upon his resignation a remarkable contest for the situation ensued. The ' townsmen' — who were now leavened with Puritanism through his preaching, and that of his associates — were desirous of electing Dr Preston ; and to make it better worth his acceptance, raised the stipend from i?-iO or i?50, to £80 a year. He was opposed by Paul Micklethwaite, fellow of Sidney College, who was supported by the Bishop of Ely, Francis White, a creature of Laud's, and the heads of colleges. It is diffi- cult to understand on what plea there was interference with the ' townsmen.' They had themselves originated the lectureship ; had themselves appointed Sibbes, had themselves supported it. But the matter came before the king at Boyston, and so intense was the royal wish to root out Puritanism, his primate inciting him to the dastardly work, that Dr Preston was actually offered a bishopric, the see of Gloucester being then void. He refused to withdraw. He accepted and entered upon the lectureship. AU honour to the ma,n who spurned a mitre, its honours and revenues alike, when offered at the price of proving false to the earnest desires of 'the people' to have the gospel, the very gospel, preached to them, — wherein, in the high but truthful enco- mium of Goodwin, he did ' bow his more sublime and raised parts to lowest apprehension.'* When Sibbes returned to Cambridge therefore, he found in Preston one like-minded, while equally did Preston find in him one worthy to stand by his side, and ' display a banner because of the truth.' Preston and Sibbes, from the date of the mastership of the latter, were the two great centres of influence in Cambridge, in so far as the preaching of the gospel was concerned. They loved one an- other with a love that was something wonderful. They were as * To the Reader. . , . Sermons before Hia Majesty, 1630. 4to. MEMOIR OF EICHARD SIBBES, D.D. K David and Jonathan in earlier, and as Lutlier and Melanclithon in later, days. They were never found apart when anything was to be done for theie Master. To the last it was so ; and when the prematurely old Master of ' Emmanuel' died, he left all his papers to his beloved friend the Master of Catharine Hall, along with John Davenport, sending words of kindly greeting by Lord Say and Seale to Gray's Inn. As Sibbes's return to Cambridge, and association with Preston, formed a marked era in his life and hfe-work, it is needful to dwell for a little on the history of his friend. Dr Preston was a man of extraordinary force of character and splendour of eloquence, and burned with the zeal of a seraph. Very remarkable were his antecedents. For years, like John Cotton, he had been the glory of the ' wits ' fc his learning and faculty of utterance. But by John Cotton's first sermon after his 'change,' he had been smitten as between joints and marrow, soul and spirit, and thenceforward had known nothing but Christ Jesus crucified. Cotton Mather tells the story of his conversion finely, and we may pause over it for a moment. ' Some time after this change upon the soul of Mr Cotton,' he says, ' it came to his turn again to preach at St Mary's ; and because he was to preach, an high expectation was raised through the whole university that they should hear a sermon flourishing indeed with all the learning of the whole university. Many diffi- culties had Mr Cotton in his own mind, and what course to steer.' And then he proceeds to tell how he decided ' to preach a plain sermon, even such a sermon as in his own conscience he thought would be most pleasing unto the Lord Jesus Christ ; and he discoursed practically and powerfully, but very solidly, upon the plain doctrine of repentance.' What then ? * The vain Avits of the university, disappointed thus with a more excellent sermon, that shot some troublesome admonitions into their consciences, discovered their vexation at this disappointment by their not humming, as according to their sinful and absurd custom they had formerly done ; and the vice-chancellor, for the very same reason also, graced him not as he did others that pleased him. Never- theless,' adds Mather, 'the satisfaction which he enjoyed in his own faithful soul abundantly compensated unto him the loss of any human favour or honour ; nor did he go without many en- couragements from some doctors, then having a better sense of religion upon them, who prayed him to persevere in the good way of preaching which he had now taken.' And then he continues, with exultation, ' But perhaps the greatest consolation of all, was a notable effect of the sermon then preached. The famous Dr VOL. I. d lii MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. Preston, then a fellow of Queen's College in Cambridge, and of great note in the university, came to hear Mr Cotton, with the same " itching ears " as others were then led withal. For some good while after the beginning of the sermon, his frustrated ex- pectation caused him to manifest his uneasiness all the ways that were then possible ; but before the sermon was ended, like one of Peter's hearers, he found himself "pierced at the heart." His heart within him was now struck with such resentment of his own interior state before the God of heaven, that he could have no peace in his soul, till, with a " wounded soul," he had repaired unto Mr Cotton, from whom he received those further assistances wherein he became a " spiritual father " unto one of the greatest men in his age.'* These were men who believed in a ' living,' presiding God, and who were not ashamed to recognise, nor afraid to avouch, ' the finger of God,' the very interference of God, as real as when the Lord met Saul of Tarsus, in the turning of a human soul to Himself. They saw in Sibbes reaching the conscience of John Cotton, and in John Cotton touching the heart of Dr Preston, so many links of the mighty chain of predestination, whose last link is fast to the throne of the Eternal. They are weaker and not wiser men who scorn such faith. It is not to be wondered at, then, that in the correspondence of the Puritans in Cambridge of this j)eriod, it was felt to be ' of God,' that quick as one preacher of the word, in its blessed height and depth, breadth and length, was removed thence, another succeeded. William Perkins was taken away, but Paul Bayne was ' sent' in his room. Paul Bayne was removed, and Sibbes was sent ; Sibbes was ' outed,' and John Preston took his place ; and now while the Master of Emmanuel was longing for one who might be a fellow-helper with him, again came Eichard Sibbes. The hearts of the praying few were cheered, and under the awakening, rich, full, grand, proclamations of the ' grace of God that bringeth salvation,' all Cambridge was moved. Preston was from day to day at Emmanuel and Trinity, and Sibbes from day to day at Catharine Hall, preaching as ' dying men to dying men ;' knowing nothing among them save Jesus Christ and him crucified, yea, regarding the demand of the ' wits' for ' polite' preaching as but an awful echo of the olden cry, ' Let him come down from the cross and we will believe him.' From tiiie title-pages of the early editions of their Sermons, we find that they were, again and again, appointed to preach at St Mary's, the church of the whole University. On these occasions * Magnalia, as ante page 16. MEJIOIB OF KICHAED SIBBES, D.D. Uii there was such a galaxy of men assembled as could not have been seen elsewhere in all the world. The effect was electric, among gentle as among simple. It rejoices one to scan the roll of the names of those who were then Masters, Fellows, and Students, and all of whom were found in attendance on the preaching of Sibbes and Preston. With relation to Sibbes, we read ' The Saint's Safety' and ' Christ is Best," ' Christ's Sufferings for Man's Sin' and ' The Church's Visitation,' and 'The Saints' Hiding-place,' with deepened interest, as, turning to the original title-pages, we find they were addressed to auditories that included the foremost names of the age. The dates inform us that these sermons, which are almost unrivalled for largeness, I might even say grandeur, of thought, rich- ness of gospel statement, impressiveness and pungency of application, and music of diction, were delivered when the several colleges sent to St Mary's names such as these. Foremost stands John Milton, then at Christ's, and himself WTiting sonnets on the very themes of Sibbes's discourses. Next comes Jeremy Taylor, just entered 'pauper sclio- laris,' as Sibbes assumed the Mastership. Behind him, already renowned as a ' public orator,' mark George Herbert. Side by side with him rises the girlish face, with its strange shadow of sorrow, of Matthew Wren, destined to belie God's handwriting in that face, by becoming a ' persecutor.' Very different is the next that meets our eye, William Gouge, of King's. And beside him is one who will be the preacher's successor at Catharine Hall, Kalph Brownrig, looking wistfully upward with his large, beaming eyes. Snug in some sequestered pew, taking keen note of all in that marvellous memory of his, see Thomas Fuller. Worn and weary, yet moved to listen, picture Edmund Castell and Abraham Whelock. Sitting at the foot of the pulpit stairs are Charles Chauncy and Richard Holdsworth, and dreamy Peter Sterry from Emmanuel. Taking notes, and wishing the hour-glass were turned again, is Joseph Mede. Fronting the preacher, and intent as any, lo ! the young Lord Wriothesly, son of Shakespeare's Earl of Southampton, and young Sir Dudley North, son of Lord North of Kirkling, both of Sibbes's OAvn college, St John's. Linking himself arm-in-arm with the preacher as he descends, mark stormy John Williams, after- wards Bishop and ' Lord Keeper.' And thus might be recounted, almost by the hundred, names that still shine like a winter's night of stars. St Mary's pews and lobbies, crowded, above and below, with such hearers, to such preachers, is a noticeable mark of progress.* Perhaps I cannot better illustrate the advance of Puritanism * I liave gfithered these names, after Masson (Life of Milton, i. 92-99), from numerous sources, but mainly from Cooper's 'Annals of Cambridge,' Wood's ' Athenae' Ey memoir of RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. in Cambridge than by here submitting a hitherto nnpubUshed document of this period, 1G26-27, recovered from the 'Church- wardens' books of the parish.* It very strikingly reveals the in- terest pervading the community in the Trinity lectureship. The document explains itself. I adhere to its orthography — ' Whereas, such p'sons as are interessed in the seates of the gallerie of this church (" Trinity") to sit there dureinge the time of the lecture, have- inge paid for the same to the p'ish, and yet, notwithstanding, are displaced by others haveinge not interest there, to their greivance and wronge ; and, unles redresse herein be speedely had, such p'sons soe greived will with- draw their cotribucons from the said lecture. For remedie whereof, it is ordered and agreed unto, by a joynt consent of all the p'shioners, that from henceforth noe p'son nor p'sons of what condyc'on soever, except such who have interest in the seats, shal be permytted to goe up into the gal- leries untyl the bell have done toUinge ; and then, yf any place be voyd, or may be spared to p'mytt, in the first place, grave divines, and after them such others as shall be lyked of by such as shall keep the dore : and yf any who have interest in the seates shall bringe any stranger to be placed there, and will have him to have his place in the gallerie, then such p'son bringing such stranger, to keepe belowe, and take his place els where for such t}TQe ; and yf any person interessed in the seats doe not repair to the church before the beU have done tollinge, then he to lose his place for that tymo. ' It is likewise ordered, by ye like consent, that such p'sons as have inte- rest in any of ye seates in ye church, shall not have it particularly to them- selves to place and displace whom they will, but only to have ye use of the seats, duringe the tyme of the lecture, for theire owne p'sons, and to receave into them such other of the parish, yf any such come, as shall belonge to such seate, and such others likewise as are people of qualitye who doe con- tribute to ye lecture ; and not to receave any children into their seats. ' It is further ordered that noe seats eyther in ye galleries or in ye church shall hereafter be disposed of to any w^^'out the consent of the parishiners at a publiq meetinge in the church. f Thus moving the ' whole city,' Sibbes and Preston went hand-in- hand ; and long after they were gone, when a very different spirit {by Bliss), Fuller's ' Worthies' (by Nichols), and the ' Lives of Nicholas Ferrar, and of Matthew Rohinson,' two of, I trust, a series of like ' Biographies,' under the scho- larly editorial care of Mr Mayor of St John's. Consult also the ' Memoirs' of each name given. All, however, wishing to get real insight into Cambridge-life of the period, I must again and again refer to Mr Masson's 'Milton.' Sibbes'a popularity and success is testified by all who write about him, and I can trace none who was so frequently called to preach in St Mary's. * From ' Between the Churchwarden's Accounts for 1626 and 1627, Trinity Parish, Cambridge.' Kindly pointed out to mo by Mr Wallis, and obligingly transcribed, with his usual exactness, by Mr Cooper, t It may be as well to round off, in a foot-note, such additional memoranda as are in my possession about the lectureship. On 11th May 1630, there was again in- terference and controversy, Dr Thomas Goodwin being the lecturer. A letter respecting it was addressed to the vice-chancellor by Dudley Carlcton, Viscount Dor- chester, one of the principal secretaries of state. This ' letter' may bo here given from MEMOIR OF EICHAED SIBBES, D.D. Iv reigned in Cambridge, born of the wild licence of the Restoration, white-headed men would recall their honoured names with a sigh. But, while thus faithful as a ' servant of Jesus Christ' in preach- ing, Richard Sibbes had the faculty of government. Catharine Hall soon found itself on an equality with its sister colleges. He returned from Sunday to Sunday, while the 'Courts' sat, to Gray's Inn, and was ever forward to plead the claims of his ' little house,' with his noble friends there. We have many testimonies to his influence and usefulness in both. Of the former, Samuel Clarke observes : ' About the year 1618 (1616), he was chosen Preacher to Gray's Inn, one of the learnedest societies in England, where his ministry found such, general approbation and acceptance that, besides the learned lawyers of the house, many noble personages, and many of the gentry and citizens, resorted to hear him, and many, till this day the Baker MSS. (xxvii. 137), as inserted in Cooper's Annals of Cambridge (iii. 229- 30). To my Reverend Friend Mr Dr BuTS, Vice-chan, ^c. Sir, — By reason of his Majesties late directions concerning lecturers, that they should read divine service according to the Liturgy, before their lectures, and th& afternoone sermons to be turned into catechising, some doubt hath beene made of the continuance of the lecture at Trinity Church, in Cambr. which for many yeares past liath beene held at one of the clocke in the afternoone, without divine service read, before yt, and cannot be continued at that hower, if the whole service should be reade before the sermon begin. Whereujjon his Majestic hath been informed that the same is a publick lecture, serving for all the parishes in that town (being fourteen in number), and that the university sermon is held at the same tyme, which would be troubled with a greater resort than can be well permitted, yf the towne sermon should bo discontinued : and that the same being held at tlie accustomed hower, there will b& tyme enough left after that sermon ended, and the auditory departed thence to their own parish churches, as well for divine service as for catechising in that and all other churches in the towne, which could not well be, yf divine service should be read in that church before the lecture ; besides the catechising in that church, would hereby be lost. Upon these motives his Majesty, being graciously pleased that the said lecture may be continued at the accustomed hower, and in manner as yt hath been heretofore used, hath given me in charge to make knowne to you his royall pleasure accordingly, but under this caution, that not only divine service, but cate- chising be duely read and used after that sermon ended, both in that and the rest of the churches of the towne ; and that the sermon doe end in convenient tyme for that purpose, soe as no pretext be made, either for the present or in future tyme, by color of the foresaid sermon, to hinder either divine service or catechising, which, his Majestic is resolved to have maintained. And so I bidd you heartily farewell, and rest. Yours to doe you service, Doechestee. From Whitehall, the 11th of May 1630. Mr Cooper annotates : ' Randolph in a poem " On Importunate Dunnes," after a curious malediction on the Cambridge tradesmen, adds — " And if this vex 'um not, I'le grive the town, With this curse, State, put Trhii/i/ lecture down." ' Randolph's Poems, ed. 1G43, p. 119. Ivi MEMOIR OF EICHAUD SIBBES, D.D. (1674-77), bless God for the benefit which they received of him.'* Besides this, various regulations and ' orders' as to seats and right of entrance in the order-books, inform us of over-crowded attendance. Thus, under 1623, ' All strangers to be kept out of the Chapell at Sermon, but such as are brought in by some of y® society.* Per- haps even more significant of a crowd is what follows : ' And all y® gentlemen to goe out of y^ Chappell bare-headed in decent manner.' Of the latter, again, Clarke says, ' About the year 1625, or '26, he was chosen Master of Katharine Hall in Cambridge, the government whereof he continued till his dying day ; and, indeed, like a faithful governor, he was always very solicitous and careful to procure and advance the good of that little house. For he procured good means and maintenance, by his interest in many worthy persons, for the enlargement of the College, and was a means and instrument to establish learned and religious Fellows there ; inasmuch as, in his time, it proved a very famous society for piety and learning, both in Fellows and Scholars.'-f- To the same effect, though with character- istic quaintness, Fuller testifies, ' He found the House in a mean condition, the wheel of St. Katharine having stood still (not to say gone backwards) for some years together ; he left it replenished with scholars, beautified with buildings, better endowed with revenues.'^ Somewhat boastfully, perhaps, Daniel Milles, in his list of Masters, thus describes Sibbes : — ' Ricardus Sibbs, Sacrje Theologiae Professor,§ omnium quos prassens setas viderit "vir pientissimus, concionator mellitissimus, qui baud paucoram corda suavitate dicendi emolliit, et vivendi sanctitate ad bonam frugem plane rapuit. Hie erat qui collegium istud partim temporum injuria, partim Praefectonun socordia et avaritia bonis suis spoliatum, et omni honore exutum, ad pristinam famam et dignitatem restituit, quiaque erat apud omnes pios autoritate maxima, largam benefactorum messem, in hoc vacuum gymnasiiun feliciter diduxit. Adeo ut non nude Praefecti nomine dignus videatur, sed alter fundator censeri debeat.' Other testimonies, as of Eachard,|| might be given, were it needful ; and, indeed, the tribute of Sir Philip Sidney to Hubert Languet must have been his, from many, " hating what is naught, For faithful heart, clean liands, and mouth as true. With his sweet skill my skill-less youth he drew To have a feeling taste of Ilim that sits Beyond the heaven, far mere beyond our wits.'' {Arcadia, Book iii. pp. 897-8, ed. 1755.) Of the Fellows, during Sibbes's Mastership, may be named Anthony * ' Clarke,' as ante, p. 144. f ' Clarke,' as ante, p. 144. X Fuller. ' Worthies.' edited hy Nichols. 2 vols. 4to. 1811. Vol. ii. p. 343. § i.e., D.D. 11 ' Eachard,' History of England, p. 451. MEMOIR OF EICHAED SIBBES, D.D. Ivii Pym (1628), probably a relative of the John Pym, who was a per- sonal friend, and mentioned in his will ; William Spurstowe (1630) ;* John Sibbes (1631), his nepliew ; Charles Pym (1631), brother of Anthony; Roger Fleetwood (1632) ; Joseph Spurstowe (1634). CHAPTER VII. SIBBES AND LAUD — ' THE PALATINATE.' The Puritans ■vratched — The Elector Palatine — Disasters — Shame of England — Battle of Prague — Frederick and Elizabeth fugitives — Persecution — Circular Letter by Sibbes, Gouge, Taylor, and Davenport — Citation before the Star- Chamber — Pronounced ' Notorious Delinquents.' All the emotion and interest to hear such preaching as was that of Sibbes and Preston, while it gives a measure of the progress of Puritanism (using the word in its recognised historic and lustrous sense), is also to the student of the period a measure of the hate with which the king (in so far as he had stamina enough to hate) and Bishop Laud, now rising into notice, regarded it. So early as 1611, the latter was a ' ivhisjjerer,' a ' busy-body' ever going about with sly, stealthy-paced, panther-like foot-fall, and keen, cold eye, if by any means, he might possess himself of secrets. Between Gray's Inn, and Catharine Hall, and St Mary's, with not unfrequent ' sermons* elsewhere, Sibbes had noble vantage-ground for noble service, and he was occupying it to the full ; and Laud was ready to pounce upon him. I have now to narrate the occasion. Sibbes was not a man to narrow his activities to his own immediate sphere, or to his own country. He watched with profoundest interest the progress of the great Protestant sister-countries, rejoicing in their joy and mourning with their mourning. In 1620, he had spoken burning words 'of the Palatinate ;' words that reveal the common shame of England for her king's pusillanimous desertion of the Elector Frederick, a man true and good in himself, and knit by the tenderest ties to the king of England. From shore to shore the nation had rung with acclaim over revolting Bohemia — the land of John Huss and many martyr-nameg. They had said 'Amen' to the rejection of Ferdinand II., and their hearts beat high for the Elector Palatine chosen in his stead, when he fearlessly said ' Yes' to the call. History tells the tragic sequel. * Spurstowe. The date, 1630, of Spurstowe's ' fellowship ' (he was afterwards Master), shews that Mr Masson has made a slip in enumerating his name among the distinguished 'fellows' under Dr Hill's Mastership. Life of Milton, i. 97. I cannot make even this small reference to Mr Masson without, in common with every literary man since the issue of his book, acknowledging my indebtedness to his industry, and almost prodigal elucidation and illustration of contemporary events and names. Iviii MEMOIR OP KICHABD SIBBES, D.D. Then opened what proved the ' Thirty Years' War,' in which the emperor, and pope, and the king of Spain were leagued against Frederick, and against the Protestant Union in him. All Europe looked on. Our own England was humiliated, all but treasonous, as James talked his foolish talk and lived his unclean life, and for- got daughter, son-in-law. Protestantism — all. Driven to do some- thing, he did his little when too late. In November 1620, the Protestants were smitten in one decisive battle — Prague ; and Frederick and his queen, losing Bohemia, losing the Palatinate, losing all, fled as refugees to Holland. What followed, only the great sealed 'book' above will declare. The triumphant enemy 'played havoc ;' and, through many dark and terrible years, the sufferings of the Protestants of Bohemia and the ' palatinate,' were something nnimaginable. The cry reached England, and public help was sought and denied. But it went not everywhere unheard, unheeded. The Puritans, Sibbes among the first, recognised their brotherhood, and out of their own private resources sought to do a little, if it were only to shew their sympathy. I have been for- tunate enough to recover a touching memorial of their efforts. Preserved among very different papers in Her Majesty's Record Office is a ' circular' letter, which, in the pathos of its simple words, goes right to the heart. Here it is : — Whereas, a late information is given to his Ma*'* of the lamentable dis- tresses of two hundred and forty godly preachers, with their wifes and families, and sundrie thousands of godly private persons with them, cast out of their house and homes, out of their cahings and countreys, by the furie of the mercilesse papists in the Upper Palatinate, whose heavie condicion is such as they are forced to steale theh servises of religion in woods and solitarie places, not without continual feare and damage of their lives ; and whose present want is such as they would be very thankful! for coarse bread (and) drinke if they coi;ld gett it. As tenderinge the miserie and want of deare brethren and sisters, desire aU godly persons to whom these presents may come, as fellowe feelinge members of the same body of Jesus Christ, to comiserate their present want and enlarge their hearts and hands for some present and private supply for them till some publique means (which hereafter may be hoped) may be raised for their reiiefe, as- suring themselves that whatsoever is cast into heaven, and falleth into the lappe of Christ in his members, shall return with abundant increase in the harvest ; neither lett any be discouraged least their bounty should misearrie, for we knowe a sure and safe way whereby whatsoever is given shall un- doubtedly come to their hands to (whom) it is intended. 2 Martii 1627. (Signed) Tho. Taylor. Richard Sibbs. John Davenport. William Gouge.* * ' Circular.' Described in ' Calendar of State Papers, Domestic Series of th& Eeign of Cliarles I., 1627-28.' By John Bruce, 1858 (Longman). MEKOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. Hx One of two copies of this affecting ' circular ' is endorsed by Laud, and the names noted so carefully, that the Sibbs within is corrected to Sibbes without. One marvels what ground even a Laud could find for opposition, much less persecution, in so piteous an appeal. But when there is a will to hurt or hinder, an occasion is not ill to devise. Perchance the vehement words, ' imerciless papists,' stung. At any rate, the four honoured men, Richard Sibbes, William Gouge, Thomas Taylor, John Davenport, were summoned before the Star Chamber, and reprimanded. It is not at all wonderful that William Prynne, in his ' Canterburie's Doom,' should ask, ' By what laiu of the land' — a question, by the way, that rings all through the charges of this extraordinary book, like a Gerizzim curse — ' did they convert Doctor Gouge, Doctor Sibbes, Doctor Taylor, and Master Davenport, as notorious delinquents, only for setting their hands to a certificate upon entreaty, testifying the distressed condition of some poor ministers of the Palatinate, and furthering a private contribution among charitable Christians for their relief, when public collections failed V It does not appear what further steps, if any, were taken ; but one thing is certain, the miserable persecution did not 'silence' Sibbes. For he not only preached, but published passionately rebuking words against the national lukewarmness. ' Wha.t,' asks he, ' shall the members of Christ suffer in other countries, and we profess ourselves to be living members, and yet not sympathize ivith tJtem ? We must be conformable to our Head, before we can come to heaven.' * What a pass things had reached, when those in autho- rity would have shut even the hand of private charity against such sufferers ! It is impossible to restrain indignation when reading of James's more than poltroonly, more than mean, desertion of his own ' flesh and blood,' not to speak of Protestantism ; but doubly base was Laud's interference to stamp out as a pestilent thing, this little effort to relieve ' godly preachers and private persons.' It only added to that thunder-cloud, which in a few years was to launch its lightnings on his own head, and whose preluding shadows were even now darkening the sky : such retribu- tion as comes ' When the quick darting lightning's flash Is the clear glitter of His golden spear.' f • ' Sonl's Conflict.' f Cecil and Mary, by Jackson, p. 19 (1858.) Is " MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. CHAPTER VIII. SIBBES AND LAUD AGAIN — ' THE IMPKOPRIATION FEOFEES.' Tlie Preacher of Gray's Inn under surveillance — Controversy not sought by Sibbea — Loyal to Church and State — The Puritans no ' Schismatics ' — Witness-bearing — Wonder and yet no Wonder — Laud's ' Beauty of Holiness ' — ' Solemnity ' — Persecution — ' Silencing' — William Prynne — Puritan Literature — Laudian- Bishop's Literature — Sibbes against Popery — Lord Keeper Finch — The ' Im- propriation ' Scheme — Sibbes a ' Feoffee ' — Checks upon Laud — ' Overthrow ' of ' Feoffees ' — Confiscation — Banishment — Verdict upon Laud. The Star Chamber citation, because of The Palatinate, with its result — a severe reprimand, and treatment as of ' notorious delin- quents,' — was only a slighter issue of that unsleeping and venge- ful resolution to suppress all Puritanism, which through upwards of a quarter of a century, Laud had planned. Accordingly, though defeated in the matter of the Palatinate, in so far as 'silencing' Sibbes and his compeers was concerned, they, in common with all the ' good men and true ' of the period — for really it appears that every man of note in his day, who was not his creature, was the object of his annoyance — were watched* Nor is it at all diffi- cult to understand, that such preaching as was being heard from Sunday to Sunday at ' Gray's Inn,' and down in Cambridge, and by crowds in St Mary's, when reported to him, as everything was reported — must have been superlatively offensive. We do not find Sibbes mixed up with the controversies of the day. There is in his works a noteworthy absence of those fires of intolerant passion that burn so fiercely in many of the writings and actings of his contempo- raries. Never once do we meet with him in the ante-chamber of ' the Court,' or mingling with the venal crowds that in unholy rivalry bade high and higher, or more properly low and lower, for place, seeking to cover their ' multitude of sins,' not with charity, but lawn sieves. He lived serenely apart from the miserable squabbling and personal resentments, and exacerbations of the semi-political, semi-theological polemics that agitated state and church. He was loyal, even tenderly charitable to tliose in authority ; and true to the church, if only the church would be true to him, by being true to its Head. Let us hear what he was saying about both in those days. Of the State he thus speaks : — ' Sometimes it falleth out that those that are under the government of others are most * ' Watched.* Scattered up and down Sibbes's writings are various indications of his knowledge of this espionage, e. g., ' So in coming to hear the word of God, some come to observe the elegancy of words and phrases, some to catch advantage, perhaj^s, against the speaker, men of a devilish temper.' — (' Bowels Ojjened,' pp. 130-31.) MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. ki injurious, by waywardness and harsh censures, herein disparaging and discouraging the endeavours of superiors for public good. In so great weakness of man's nature, and especially in this crazy age of the world, we ought to take in good ijart any moderate liap- piness we enjoy by government ; and not be altogether as a nail in the wound, exasperating things by misconstruction. ZTere love should have a mantle to cast upon the lesser errors of those above us. Oftentimes the poor man is the oppressor by unjust clamours. We should labour to give the best interpretation to the actions of governor's that the nature of the actions will possibly bear.' * Simi- lar sentiments abound. Of the Church we have many wise and considerate words. He had no wish for separation : none of the Puritans had, until they were driven to it. So far from seeking to divide 'the church' and injure it — the refrain of many an accusation — Sibbes has sarcasms that perhaps might have been spared, against those who even then felt they could not remain within her pale. ' Fractions,' he says, with an approach to un- kindness very unusual with him, ' always breed factions.' He could not mean it ; but this was capable of being turned by Laud to his own account. He was quick as a sleuth-hound to discern taint of treason. But we have more full and explicit state- ments. Thus with more than ordinary vehemence he expostulates, accuses : — ' What a joyful spectacle is this to Satan and his faction, to see those that are separated from the world fall in pieces among themselves ! Our discord is our enemy's melody. The more to blame those that for private aims affect differences from others, and will not suffer the wounds of the church to close and meet together.'f Was this man, so truly a man of peace, one to track and keep under surveillance, as though he had been at once traitor and fanatic ? Whence came it ? The answer is too easy. Though ' slow to speak,' and sweet-natured to a fault, he was fearless when the occasion demanded it.+ Even immediately on saying the above, * Bruised Keed, c. xvii. t Bruised Reed, c. xvii. X ' Sweet-natured to a fault.' Brook (' Lives of the Puritans,' ii. 419) remarks : ' This reverend divine was eminently distinguished for a meek and quiet spirit, being always unwilling to offend those in power.' This is too general, for however gentle, . Sibbes, when roused, spoke out with no thought of who might be, or might not be, offended. For, says he, ' It argues a base disposition, either for frown or favour, to desert a good cause in evil times ' (' Bowels Opened,' 1st edition, 1639, 4to, p. 45). Brook continues, from Calamy (Calamy's Account, vol. ii. pp. 605, 606) : ' This trait in his character will appear from the following anecdote : — A fellowship being vacant in Magdalen College, for which Archbishop Laud recommended his bell-ringer at Lambeth, with an ardent design of quarrelling witii Ixii MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. he takes care to guard himself from misconstruction, by adding : — * Which must not be understood, as if men should dissemble their judgment in any truth where ther6 is just cause of expressing them- selves ; for the least truth is Christ's, and not ours : and therefore we are not to take liberty to affirm or deny at our pleasure. There is a due in a penny, as well as in a pound ; therefore we must he faithful in the least truth, when season calleth for it! But again, so gentle and unpolemic was he, he continues finely : — ' But in some cases peace, by keeping our faith to ourselves, Rom. xiv. 22, is of more consequence than the open discovery of some things we take to be true : considering the weakness of man's nature is such, that there can hardly he a discovery of any difference in opinion, tvithout some estrangement of affection. So far as men are not of one mind, they will hardly be of one heart, except where grace and the peace of God, Col. iii. 15, bear great rule in the heart. Therefore, open show of difference is never good hut when it is necessary ; however some, from a desire to be somebody, turn into by-ways, and yield to a spirit of contradiction in themselves.'* And then, Leighton-like, he turns away from the distractions around him, and thinks of the ' rest that remains.' ' Our blessed Saviour, when he was to leave the world, what doth he press upon his disciples more than peace and love ? And in his last prayer, with what earnestness did he beg of his Father that they might be one, as he and the Father were one ! John xvii. 21. But what he prayed for on earth, we shall only enjoy perfectly in heaven. Let this make the meditation of that time the more sweet to ws.'-f* Even so — ' Search well another worhl ; who studies this, Travels in clouds ; seeks manna where none is.' % One wonders, and yet does not wonder, how such a peaceable and loveable man came to be thus harassed. But what has the dove done to make the serpent strike its fang into it ? Simply them if they refused, or of putting a spy upon them if they accepted, Dr Sibbes, who was ever U7iwilling to provoke liis superiors, told the fellows that Lambeth-house would be obeyed ; and that the person was young, and niiglit in time prove hopeful. The fellows therefore consented, and the man was admitted.' This ' anecdote ' carries improbability in the face of it, and neither Calamy nor Brook adduce any authority. Sibbes could have no voice in ' Magdalen,' in the election or rejection of a ' fellow.' Nor is there the slightest memorial of such an appointment as is stated. Surely if it had been made, name and date would have been notorious. Amid the many charges against Laud, this has no place either in Prynne or elsewhere. Calamy is not guilty, ordinarily, of introducing mere idle gossip, but it would seem that in the present instance he has. * aiid t Bruised Reed, c. xvii. X Henry Vaughan, Silex Sciutillans. Edition by Lyte, 1847, page 17. MEMOIR OF EICHARD SIBBES, D.D. Iliu crossed its 'path. What the lamb, to cause the wolf to take it by the throat ? Again, simply crossed its jpath. Sibbes had done that with Laud. While the king, under his mitred councillor's tuition, was straining every nerve to un-Sabbath Sunday, Sibbes and his co-Puritans held fast its inviolable authority. While proclamations, unsanctioned by Parliament, were issued to sub- stitute the May-pole for the Cross, the Book of Sports for the Book of God, and the village green for the sanctuary, Sibbes held up the cross and summoned the people to the sanctuary. While all doc- trinal preaching, all declarations of the grace of God in Jesus Christ, was sought to be put down (precursor of the infamous 'Directions'), Sibbes avouched his Calvinism, and spoke with no bated breath of Arminianism. While churchmen of the school of Laud would have men regard transubstantiation as a ' school nicety,' bowing to the table of the Lord, as 'becoming reverence,' images in churches worthy * commemoration,' sacerdotal absolution and confession to a priest as 'proper things' the Lord's Supper not as a sacrament, but as a sacrifice, — Sibbes protested, and gave them their proper designa- tion, with no periphi'asis or courtly phrase, of papistical innovation and delusions of the devil. I ana not sure that I v/ould make all his and the Puritans' side-thrusts against ' the papist' my own. I fear I cannot acquit either them or him of ' upbraiding,' and even blameable uncharity for the men, in the honesty of his indignation against their doctrines and measures. But we must not forget the circumstances of ' the time.' He was old enough to remember the Armada, sent to his own Suffolk shore under a pope's blessing, and a ' bull ' being nailed to the palace-door with a pope's ban. He was cognizant of innumerable plots, not merely against our religious, but also our civil, liberties. He heard claims asserted, not for equality, but supremacy. And then there were those high in authority, coquetting with that popery that had incarnadined England with her best blood, and had been got rid of at a cost inestimable. He could not but speak, and, speaking as a patriot and Protestant, it was not easy to 'prophesy smooth things' Perhaps Laud would have endured Sibbes's bold and passionate rebuke of the prevailing sins of the age, and even, however galled, have winked at his full and fervid assertions of the principles of the reformation from popery, and clear and articulate condemnation of Arminianism, had he gone no further. But words were not only to be answered with words, be it granted unadvised words, with occasional kindredly unadvised words. Action was to be met with action, if ' the church ' were not to be only a masked re-establishmeut of popery, Ixiv MEMOIR OF EICHARD SIBBES, D.D. and if the Calvinism of its fathers "were not to degenerate into uZ^ra-Arminianism ; and it was done, as we shall see. Peter Heylin was now at the ear of Laud ; and Hacket observes, that ' they that watched the increase of Arminianism, said, confidently, that it was from the year 1628 that the tide of it began to come in ;' and this because it was from that year that ' all the preferments were cast on one side.' * Similar is the testimony concerning the favour shewn to popery. Thus opposing Laud in his two darling objects, it is easy to foresee that one like Sibbes, resident in London,' could not fail to come into conflict with the vigilant and suspicious head of the church. Nor are we to suppose that, if he was vv^atched by Lambeth's police, Lambeth went unwatched. How far the primate was going in his 'papisti- cal tendencies,' may be gathered from one notorious exhibition. Besides its bearing on the persecution springing out of the im- propriation scheme, it gives point to a suggestive hit by Sibbes, which was probably the thing that stung Laud to further action against him and his coadjutors in another blessed work. I there- fore give the record of it from the admittedly authoritative pages of Rushworth and Wharton, in extenso : — On Sunday the 16th of January 1630-1, a new church — St Catherine Creed — in Leadenhall Street, was consecrated. It had been re-built, and had been suspended by the primate from all divine service, sermons or sacraments, until it should be re-consecrated. Laud and a number of his clergy came in the morning to perform the ceremony. Then as strange and sad a ' performance ' as ever men beheld was en- acted, regard being had to the fact that the performer was the Protestant Primate of England : — ' At the bishop's approach to the west door,' says Eushworth, * some that were prepared for it cried, with a loud voice, " Open, open, ye ever- lasting doors, that the king of glory may enter in ! " and presently the doors were opened, and the bishop, with some doctors, and many other principal men, went in, and immediately, falling down upon his knees, j with his eyes lifted up, and his arms spread abroad, uttered these words : " This place is holy ; the ground is holy: in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 1 pronounce it holy." Then he took up some of the dust, and threw it up into the air, several times, in his going up towards the ' chancel, f When they approached near to the rail and communion-table, the bishop bowed towards it several times ; and, retm'uiug, they went round the church in procession, saying the 100th Psalm, and after that the 19th Psalm, and then said a form of prayer, commencing, "Lord Jesus * Hacket . . . Life of Williami?, Lord Keeper. Pt. ii. p. 42 and p. 82. t Masson, ' Life of Milton,' i. 850, adds hero this foot-note : — This was sworn to on Laud's trial by two witnesses ; but Laud denies it, and moreover, says that, if it had been true, it would not have been a popisli ceremony, as the Komish pontifical prescribes, not ' dust,' but ' ashes ' to be thrown up on such occasions. MEMOIR OF EICHAUD SIBBES, D.D. kv Christ," &c., and concluding, " "We consecrate this church, and separate it unto thee, as holy ground, not to be profaned any more to common use." After this, the bishop being near the communion-table, and taking a ^n•itten book in his hand (a copy, as was afterwards alleged, of a form in the Romish pontifical, but according to Laud, furnished him by the deceased Bishop Andrewes), pronounced curses upon those that should afterwards profane that holy place by musters of soldiers, or keeping profane law- courts, or canying bm'dens through it ; and at the end of every curse, bowed towards the east, and said, "Let all the people say. Amen." \Vhen the cm-ses were ended, he pronounced a number of blessings upon all those that had any hand in framing and building of that sacred and beautiful church, and those that had given, or should hereafter give, any chahces, plate, ornaments, or utensils ; and at the end of every blessing, he bowed towards the east, and said, " Let all the people say. Amen." After this followed the sermon, which being ended, the bishop consecrated and ad- ministered the sacrament in manner following : — As he approached the communion-table, he made several lowly bowings ; and coming up to the side of the table, where the bread and wine were covered, he bowed seven times ; and then, after the reading of many prayers, he came near the bread, and gently hfted up a corner of the napkin wherein the bread was laid ; and when he beheld the bread, he laid it down again, flew back a step or two, bowed three several times towai'ds it, then he drew near again, and opened the napkin, and bowed as before. Then he laid his hand on the cup, which was full of wine, with a cover upon it, which he let go again, went back, and bowed thrice towards it ; then he came near again, and lifting up the cover of the cup, looked into it, and seeing the wine, let fall the cover again, retired back, and bowed as before. Then he received the sacrament, and gave it to some principal men ; after which, many prayers being said, the solemnity of the consecration ended.' That was the sort of thing that the primate and his like-minded bishops, sought to impose on men as 'SOLEMNITY !' That 'mounte- bank holiness' (it is Sir Philip Sidney's word of scorn) -vvas to be its translation of the grand old ' Beauty of Holiness,' (1 Chron. xvi. 29 ; Ps. xxix. 2, and xcvi. 9).* It is no light occasion that * 'Beauty of lioliness.' The vehement words of John Milton, stern as Jeremiah. a few year later, are memorable, and may not be passed by : — ' Now for their de- meanour within the church, how have they disfigur'd and defac't that more than angelick brightnes, the unclouded serenity of Christian religion, with the dark over- casting of superstitious coaps and flaminical vestures. . . . Tell me. ye priests, where- fore this gold, wherefore these roabs and surplices, over the gospel ? Is our religion guilty of the first trespasse, and hath need of cloathing to cover her nakednesse? What does this else but cast an ignominey upon the perfection of Christ's ministery by seeking to adorn it with that which was the poor remedy of our shame ? Believe it, wondrous doctors, all corporeal resemblances of inward holinesse and beauty are noio past.' (The Keason of Church Government, B. II. ch. ii. p. 154. Mitford's Milton. Prose Works, vol. i. Pickering.) Elsewhere, denouncing the ' chaff of over-dated ceremonies,' he thus describes the Laudian ' prelaty :' — ' They began to draw down all the divine intercourse betwixt God and the soul, yea, the very shape of God himself, into an exterior and bodily form, urgently pretending a necessity and obligement of joining the body in a formal reverence and worship circumscribed : they hallowed it, they fumed it, they sprinkled it, they bedecked it, not in robes of kvi MEMOIR OF EICHAED SIBBES, D.D. calls for one's judgment of another in so awful and sacred a thing as his religion, however it may be darkened by super- stition, or lightened by the fires of the wildest fanaticism. De- plorable, therefore, as this mummery may be to us, we may not pronounce that it was an unreal, much less that it was* a farcical thing to its chief actor. Such a soul as his, so small, so narrow, may have found channel deep enough for its reve- rence in such return upon an effete ritualism. We may agree with Macaulay's epithet of ' imbecile,' but not with the Puritan's angry charge of 'hypocrite.' But when one realises that prison, fine, the knife, the shears, persecution to the death, were the award of every honest soul that refused to regard as the 'Beauty of Holiness' such exaggerations of even popery, it is hard to withhold an anathema, ringing as Paul's, on the memory of him who devised, and of the craven bishops who cravenly enforced them. There the spider-soul sat, in its craft, spreading out its net-work over broad England, and by its Harsnets and Curies, Mountagus and Buckridges, Bancrofts and Wrens, and Main- warings, united in a brotherhood of evil, sought to entrap all who held to the divine simplicity of the New Testament. The secret threads, revealed by the tears of the persecuted, as by the morning dew is revealed the drop-spangled and else concealed web of the open-air spider, thrilled news up to the hand that grasped all, and forth the fiat went. * Within a single year, at this period,' says Neal, ' many lecturers were put down, and such as preached against Arminianism or the new ceremonies were suspended and silenced, among whom were the Bev. Mr John Rogers of Dedham, Mr Daniel Rogers of Wethersfield, Mr Hooker of Chelmsford, Mr White of Knightsbridge, Mr Archer, Mr William Martin, Mr Edwards, Mr Jones, Mr Dod, Mr Hildersam, Mr Ward, Mr Saunders, Mr James Gardiner, Mr Foxley, and many others.' * We have the burning words of Prynne, that at a ' later day,' in the day of his humiliation, the primate had to meet. Thus forcibly is the charge put — nor was it ever touched : — ' As ho thus preferred Popish and Arminian clergymen to the chief eccle- pure innoconcy, but of pure linen, with other deformed and fantastic dresses, in palls and mitres, gold and gewgaws, fetched from Aaron's old wardrobe or the flamen's vestry ; then was the priest sent to con his motions and his postures, his liturgies and lurries, till tlie soul, by this means of overbodying herself, given up to fleshly delights, bated her wing apace downwards.' In our own day, one has cha- racterised the same phenomenon, as presented by Tractarianism, which, indeed, was the harvest of the baleful seed sown by liaud, as ' a thing of flexions and genuflexions, postures and impostures, with a dash of man-millinery.' * nist. of Puritans, Vol. i. p. 589, &c. (ed., 3 vols. 8vo, 1837.) MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D,D. Irvii siastical preferments in our church, so, on the contrar}', (foUo^ving the counsel of Cautzen, the Mogonutive Jesuit, in his poHtics, see ' Look about you'), he discountenanced, suspended, silenced, suppressed, censured, imprisoned, persecuted most of the prime, orthodox, diligent preaching ministers of the realm, and forced many of them to fly into America, Hol- land, and other foreign places, to avoid his fury, only for opposing his popish innovations, and expressing their fears of the change of our religion. Not to trouble you with any forementioned instances of Mr Peter Smart, Mr Henry Burton, Mr Snelling, and others, we shall instance in some fresh examples ' Mr Samuel Ward's case, and Mr Chauncy's case, are then naiTated. ' To these we could add,' he proceeds, ' Mr Cotton, Mr Hooker, Mr Davenport, Mr Wells, Mr Peters, Mr Glover, and sundry other ministers, driven into New England and other plantations.' And then ' Dr Stoughton, Dr Sihhes, Dr Taylor, Dr Gouge, Mr White of Dor- chester, Mr Piogers of Dedham, with sundiy more of our most eminent preaching, orthodox divines, were brought into the High Commission, and troubled or silenced for a time by his procurement upon frivolous pre- tences, but in truth because they were principal props of our Protestant rehgion against his Popish and Arminian innovations.'* Now, we have the actual books containing the actual preach- ing of these men, and the numerous others who shared their per- secution. They are in our libraries ; and he must be either a bold or a very foolish man, not only rash, but reckless, who gainsays that, re'move these hooks fromi the Christian literature of the period and you reinove the very life-blood of that literature. The most recent, truthful, and catholic of ' the church' histo- rians, Mr Perry,t admits that all the practical writers of the age were of the puritans and sufferers for nonconformity ; and he names a few, Willet and Dyke, Preston and Byfield, Bolton and Hildersam, and Sibbes. ' This fact,' he candidly observes, ' must needs have told with extreme force against the interests of the church. It was doubtless alleged that the church divines could only speak when their position or their order was menaced, but in the face of the great and crying sins and scandals of the age they were dumb and tongue- tied ;' and he might have added, in view also of the gross ignorance and darkness in which whole districts of the country were shrouded. I should make larger reservation or exceptions in favour of 'church' writers than Mr Perry does ; for I find in Thomas Adams and Anthony Farindon, and others, whom I love equally with the fore- most of the puritans, the same preaching with theirs. Still it re- mains that the men whom Laud delighted to honour were the men who were vehement enough to bring men to ' the church,' but not at all concerned about bringing them to Christ ; ready to dispense * ' Canterburie's Doom,' pp. 362, seq. 1646, folio. t The History of the Church of England from the death of Elizabeth to the pre- sent time. By the Rev. G. G. Perry, MA., Rector of Waddington. Vol, I. 1861. (Saunders. Otley, & Co.) See C, ix. p. 326. VOL. I. e Ixviii MEMOIE OF EICHARD SIBBES, D.L). the sacraments, but oblivious of their antitype ; swift to jangle in. hot controversies on ' super-elementation,' but cold about the one transcendent change ; reverers of the altar, but despisers of the cross. We have defences of the church, its tithes and dignities, its upholstery and repairs, ad nauseam. We have the primate himself fervid about his genu-flexions and reverence to the na,7ne of Christ, and the name only ; and a Mountagu, ribald as Billingsgate against holy Samuel Ward. They were, as was jested of a modern Lord Chancellor, buttresses rather than pillars of ' the church.' We look in vain all through the extant writings of the bishops named, from Laud downward, for anything ap- proaching one earnest, heartfelt utterance as from a servant of Jesus Christ to perishing sinners, one living word to men as * under wrath,' nay, for one flash of genius, one gush of human feeling. They had no answer for the 'Anxious Inquirer' as he cried — ■ 'lama sinner, full of doubts and fears, Make me a humble thing of love and tears.' * There exists not a more meagre, inane, contemptible literature, taken as a whole, than that composed of the Laudian books pro- per; for it were a historic blunder, as well as a slander, to include Hall or Ussher or Bedell or Davenant among them, from the mere accident of their first appointment, more or less, coming from Laud. Yet we must believe that what they printed and gave to the world was their best, and at least was the preaching their auditories heard. On the other hand, it equally remains unchallengeable that the men whom Laud delighted to persecute were the only men then in England who were really discharging, in the fear of God, their office of preachers of the gospel, men, at the same time, of gener- ous loyalty, and lovers, with the deepest affection, of that reformed church from which they were driven in 1662. Such having been the state of things, it is only what we should expect, to find even the unpolemic and gentle Sibbes speaking out against the doings and tendencies of the men in authority. There is a time to be silent, and a time to speak. Fealty to truth demanded plain words, and translating of words into acts. Nor was either awanting. For words take these, over which we can conceive even the rheumy eyes of the primate flashing fire. They are taken from sermons preached during this period, and afterwards fearlessly published. I venture to italicise some few lines : — ' What shnll wc tliiuk them to bo of that take advantacjos of the bruised- ncss and iiihnnitios of men's spirits to relieve them with iiilse peace for * Hartley Coleridge. Poems, ii. p. 387 (edition 1851). MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. liriY iheir own worldly ends ? A wounded spirit will part with anything. Most of the gainful points of popery, as confession, satisfaction, merit, purga- tory, &c., spring from hence, but they are physicians of no ralue, or rather tormentors than physicians at all. It is a greater blessing to he delivered from " the sting of these scorpions" than ice are thankful for. Spiritual tyranny is the greatest tyranny, and then especially when it is where most mercy should be shewed ; yet even there some, like cruel surgeons, delight in making long cures, to serve themselves upon the misery of others. It bringeth men under a terrible curse, " when they will not remember to shew mercy, but persecute the poor and needy man, that they might even slay the broken in heart," Ps. cix. 16. ' Likewise, to such as raise temporal advantage to themselves out of the spiritual misery of others, join such as raise estates by betraying the church, and are unfaithful in the trust committed 'unto them, when the children SHALL CRY FOR THE BREAD OF LIFE, AND THERE IS NONE TO GIVE THEM, bringing thus vpon the jjeople of God that heavy judgment of a sphitual famine, starving Christ in his members. Shall we so requite so good a Saviour, who counteth the love and mercy shewed in "feeding his lambs," John xxi. 15, as shewed to himself? ' Last of all, they cany themselves very unkindly towards Chi'ist, who stumble at this his low stooping unto us in his government and ordinances, that are ashamed of the simplicity of the gospel , that count preaching foolishness. ' They, out of the pride of their heart, think they may do well enough without the help of the word and sacraments, and think Christ took not state enough upon him, and therefore they will mend the matter WITH their own devices, whereby they may give the better content to flesh and blood, as in popery.'* Elsewhere, in his most eloquent sermon entitled ' The Saint's Safety in Evil Times,' he thus fearlessly speaks : — * I beseech you consider, what hui't have we ever had by the " Reforma- tion " of religion ? Hath it come naked unto us ? Hath it not been attended with peace and prosperity? Hath God been " a barren wilder- ness to us?" Jer. ii. 31. Hath not God been a wall of fii-e about us? which if he had not been, it is not the water that compasseth our island could have kept us.f Once more, in the ' Ungodly 's Misery,' also ' preached ' at this period, we have these plain-spoken words : — ' What is the gospel but salvation and redemption by Christ alone ? Therefore, Rome's church is an apostate church, and may well be styled an adulteress and a whore, because she is fallen from her husband Christ Jesus. And what may we think of those that would bring light and dark- ness, Christ and Antichrist, the ark and Dagon, together, that would re- concile us, as if it were no great matter ?' | Still again, in his exceeding precious sermons on Canticles, he strikes high, even right at the prelates, on their neglect of abounding error : — * Thus,' says he, ' popery gi-ew up by degrees, till it overspread the * ' Bruised Reed,' page 78. J ' Ungodly's Misery,' p. 388. t ' Saint's Safety,' page 312. hx MEMOIR OF RICHAED SIBBES, D.D. church, whilst the watchmen that should have kept others awake fell asleep THEMSELVES. And thu3 wc answcr the papists when they quarrel with us about the beginning of their errors. They ask of us when such and such an heresy began ; we answer, that those that should have observed THEM WERE ASLEEP. Popery is a " mystery," that crept into the church by degrees under glorious pretences. Their errors had modest beginnings.' * These two words, ' glorious pretences,' must have been treasured up by Laud. They reappear in his ' Answers ' to the ' Charges ' acjainst him, as I shall notice anon. These were fiery words, and given to the world in print, the former in 'The Bruised Reed,' in 1629-30, the latter in 'The Saint's Safety,' in 1632-3, they could not fail to rouse the pri- mate. Almost immediately upon his appointment to the preacher- ship of Gray's Inn, Laud had sought to have him deprived and silenced ; for tidings had reached him of the Trinity lecture- ship and the evangelical, ' soul-fatting ' (good old Bolton's word) preaching there. But Lord Keeper Finch had interfered to de- feat his machinations, a right good service by not the best of men I fear, which he did not forget to plead when he stood at the bar of the House. Thus did he bring it up, the little quarto contain- ing the full ' speech ' b.eing now before me : — ' I hope for my affec- tion in religion no man doubteth me. What my education was, and under whom I lived for many yeares, is well knowne. I lived neere thirty years in the society of Gray s Inne ; and if one (that was a reverend preacher there in my time. Doctor Sibs) were now living, he were able to give testimony to this House that when a party ill-affected in religion sought to tyre and weary him out, he had his chiefest encouragement and help from me.' Let the erring Lord Keeper have the benefit of this redeeming trait. Defeated in this earlier effort, Laud postponed, but did not aban- don, his purpose. He soon found a pretext. As was observed before, Sibbes was a man of beneficent action as well as of beneficent words ; and holding as he did that the church was for the nation, and not the nation for the church, — that the ministry was for the preaching of the gospel, — he joined hand and heart in counter- working those schemes, that, by quenching every ' golden candle- stick ' within which burned the oil of the sanctuary, sought to bring back the darkness and superstitions of the worst of popish times. Things had come to the crisis of endurance. If Laud and his myr- midons would ' deprive,' ' out,' ' silence,' ' persecute ' the humble, faithful, godly preachers of salvation by grace, who were bearing the * heat and burden ' of work, and would intrude men, from the bishop to his humblest curate, wlio enforced a thinly-veiled popery in * 'Bowels Opened,' pp. 84-5. MEMOIR OF EICHAED SIBBES, D.D. Ixxi practice, and imscriptural, ani^iscriptural teaching in doctrine, something was demanded that should neutralise such doings. What was devised is matter of history. ' Feoffees ' were appointed — the sacred ' twelve ' in number — to raise funds, and buy in from time to time such ' impropriations ' as were in the hands of laymen, when they could be purchased, and then to appoint therein as lecturers those who would really do the work of preaching. Superadded was the appointment of similar lecturers in the more neglected regions where lay-impropriations were not purchasable. Years before Sibbes had expressed his earnest wish that a ' lecturer ' were in every dark corner of England.* It was a noble enterprise, and was nobly responded to. The best and wisest, the purest and holiest men of the age, took their part in the undertaking. I hesi- tate not to avouch, that there was scarcely a man whose name is now remembered for good, but was found subscribing amply and co-operating zealously for its accomplishment. The national heart was stirred, and it was found to beat in the right place. Sibbes, along with his old friends and coadjutors, Davenport and Gouge, was appointed one of the 'Feoffees.' It needs not to be told how this drew down the vengeance of Laud. The scheme had been more or less hindered from its inauguration in 1626, but not till 1632-3 (coincident with Sibbes's defences of 'The Re- formation from Popery ') was open action taken. The delay was caused by no relenting, much less forgetfulness. But events in the interval had transpired to ' give pause.' James had died, and his son reigned in his stead. The plague had passed over the metro- polis in 1625, and there was 'lamentation and woe' in tens of thousands of households, again returning dolefully in 1630. There were political movements, also, that whitened to pallor the proudest cheek. One ' Mr Cromwell ' had come up to Parha- ment in 1627-8. Besides 'the Petition of Right,' and the ex- torted and memorable Soit fait comme il est desire, and the ' Declaration,' most uncourtly words fell from Masters Pym and Hampden and Ehot, and many others. But very especially was there plain-speaking, in his own stammering but forcible and resolute fashion, by ' Mr Cromwell ' about increase of ' popery.' The House of Commons resolved itself into a Committee of Re- ligion. Let Thomas Carlyle, tell the issue. ' It was,' says he, ' on the 11th day of February 1628-9, that Mr Cromwell, member for * His words are memorable : ' If it were possible, it were to be wished that there were set up some lights in all the dark corners of this kingdom, that might shine to those people that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.' — (Saint's Safety, p. 331 of the present volume.) Ixxii MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. Huntingdon (then in his thirtieth year), stood up and made his firsts speech, a fragment of which has found its way into history, and is now known to all mankind. He said : " He had heard by relation from one Dr Beard (his old schoolmaster at Huntingdon) that Dr Alabaster (prebendary of St Paul's and rector of a parish in Herts) had preached flat popery at Paul's Cross ; and that the Bishop of Winchester (Dr Neile) had commanded him, as his diocesan, he should preach nothing to the contrary. Mainwaring, so justly cen- sured in this House for his sermons, was, by the same bishop's means, preferred to a rich living. If these are the steps to church- preferment, what are we to expect ? " ' * We shall probably not greatly err if we conclude that even the ' red face' of Laud blanched under that question of ' Mr Cromwell,' knowing as he well did that the facts named were only two out of many, and knowing also the ' stuff ' of which the men were made who were upon the inquisition. Then came ' remonstrances ' and ' declarations ' stronger still, and they who drew them up meant to have what they demanded. True, the chief speakers were ' indicted ' in the Star-Chamber, and ultimately sent to the Tower, ' Mr Cromwell,' and ' Mr Pym,' and ' Mr Hampden ' alone excepted (marvellous and suggestive excep- tions). There lay Denzil Holies and Sir John Eliot, John Selden, Benjamin Valentine, and William Couton, Sir Miles Hobart and William Longe, William Strode and Sir Peter Hayman. For eleven years it was decreed to be penal so much as to speak of assembling another Parliament. There were ' wars and rumours of wars,' too. Every one who at all knows the time can see that a constraint which could not be disregarded was put upon Laud in the matter of his persecuting for religion. He durst not go in the teeth of the unmis- takeable menaces of the last memorable Parliament. He noted down everything, and certainly would not fail to note down what Rous and Pym, Eliot and Selden, had said. Let us hear a little of what was said. Francis E-ous, trembling like an old Hebrew prophet with his 'burden,' had denounced that 'error of Arminianism which makes the grace of God lackey it after the Avill of man,' and called on the House to postpone questions of goods and liberties to this question, which concerned ' eternal life, men's souls, yea, God him- self.' Sir John Eliot re2)udiatcd the claim that ' the bishops and clergy alone should interpret church doctrine ; and, professing his respect for some bishops, declared that there were others, and two especially, from whom nothing orthodox could come, and to em- power whom to interpret would he the ruin of national religion! John Selden, grave and calm, referred to individual cases in which * Cromwell's Letters and Speeches, 3d edition, i. 29. MEMOIR OF KICHAED SIBBES, D.D. Ixxiii Popish and Arminian books were allowed, while Calvinistic books were restrained, notwithstanding that there was no law in England to prevent the printing of any books, but only a decree in Star- Chamber.' And then on one occasion the whole House stood up together, and vowed a vow against ' innovations in the faith.' The issue of that, passed with closed doors, and with clenching of teeth and gripping of sword-hilts, none will soon forget. We have to do with only one of the three ' Resolutions : — ' Whoever shall bring in innovation of religion, or by favour or countenance seem to extend Popery or Arminianism, or other opinion disagreeing from the true and orthodox church, shall be reputed a capital enemy to this kingdom and commonwealth.' * After these things it is remarkable that the king, a man without mind, and Laud, a man without either mind or heart, should at all have adventured to go against the mind and heart of England. But so it was. There was of necessity greater secrecy, very much of covert plotting against the liberties, civil and religious, of England. The 'feoffees' at last, borne with involuntarily from 1626, were summoned before the Star Chamber and High Commission both. And that was but the execution of Laud's cherished purpose from the beginning. For in that strangest of strange 'Diaries,' the oddest combination, that ever has been written, of piety and gro- velling superstition, of faith and the most babyish credulity, (for Pepys' is wisdom itself in comparison f), we light upon this entry : — ' Things which I have projected to do, if God hless me in them — ' III. To overthrow the feoffment, dangerous hoth to Church and State, going under the specious pretence of buying in impropriations.' Opposite these words, a few oiit of many equally deplorable, that a little onward came to be to their writer terrible as the mystic ' handwriting ' of Babylon's palace-wall, is inscribed ' DONE.' And it was done — for the moment ; but it was a tremendous success to its doer. If only Nemesis had been touched with ruth to blot out the handwriting ! But no ! There the entry stood, when per- haps not altogether lawfully or honourably, at least not courteously, the diary was seized : — * Consult for the facts introduced Masson's Life of Milton, i. 181, 329, seq. ; Car- lyle's ' Cromwell ; ' John Forster's ' Statesmen of the Commonwealth,' and others of his historical works ahout this period. t Pepys. I do not know if his prescient entry in favour of the Puritans has been remarked. Having witnessed Ben Jonson's ' Bartholomew Fair,' he jots down, ' And is an excellent play ; the more I see it the more 1 love the wit of it ; only the business of abusing the Puritans begins to grow stale, and of no use, thei/ being the people thai at last will be found the wisest.' See Index of any edition of ' Diary ' under ' Bartholomew Fair.' Ixxiv MEMOIR OF KICHAED SIBBES, D.D. 'Feb. 13. 1632. ' Wednesday. — The feoffes that pretended to buy in impropriations were dissolved in the Chequer Chamber. They ivere the main instruments for tl^ Puritan faction to undo the Church. The criminal part reserved.'* Reserved ! Ay, and transferred ! Those who had engaged in the impropriation scheme, including Sibbes, having been thus summoned before the Star-Chamber, were dealt with, not as honourable and good men, but as ' crimi- nals and traitors.' The verdict was — CONFISCATION of the funds and BANISHMENT of the men ! Some fled to Holland, some to New England.f Had the nation's * Laud's ' Works,' vol. iii. p. 216, 217. t Of the ' fugitives' associated with Sibbes in the ' feoflfees' scheme, the most eminent was John Davenport, In Anderson's Life of Lady Mary Vere, in ' Memor- able Women of Puritan Times,' some very touching letters of his are given from the Brit. Museum MSS. (Birch 4275, No. 69). Two extracts will shew the anxiety in which these godly men were kept, and at the same time shew how far they were from wishing to be ' schismatics,' or in any way to injure the church. First of all, while he and Sibbes and others were under the ban of the ' High Commission' as mentioned above, he writes, ' I have had divers purposes of writing to your honour, only I de- layed in hope to write somewhat concerning the event and success of our High Com- mission troubles ; but I have hoped in vain, for to this day we are in the same condition as before, delayed till the finishing of the session in Paliament, which now is unhappily concluded without any satisfying contentment to the king or commonwealth. Threatenings were speedily revived against us by the new Bishop of London, Dr Laud, even the next day after the conclusion of the session. We now expect a fierce storm from the enraged spirits of the two bishops ; ours, as I am informed, hath a particular aim at me upon a former quarrel, so that I expect ere long to be deprived of my pastoral charge in Coleman Street. But I am in God's hand, not in theirs, to whose good pleasure I do contentedly and cheerfully submit myself.' A more beautiful charity, or more modest assertion of conscience, than in our next extract, can scarcely be imagined. ' Be not troubled, much less discouraged, good madam, at any rumours you meet with concerning my present way. The persecution of the tongue is more fierce and terrible than that of the hand. At this time I have some of both The truth is, I have not forsaken my ministry, nor resigned up my place, much less sepor rated from the church, but am only absent a while to wait upon God, upon the settling and quieting of things, for light to discover my way, being willing to lie and die in prison, if the cause may be advantaged by it, but choosing rather to preserve the liberty of rny person and ministry for the service of the church elsewhere, if all doors are shut against me here Tlio only cause of all my present sufferings is the alteration of my judgment in matters of conformity to the ceremonies established, whereby I cannot practise them as formerly I have done ; wherein I do not censure those that do conform {7iay, I account many of them faithful and worthy instruments of God's glory ; and I know that I did conform with as much inward peace as now I do forbear ; in both my uprightness was the same, but my light different). In this action I walk by tliat light wliich shineth into me With much advice of many ministers of eminent note and worth, I have done all that I have done hither- to, and with desire of pitching upon that way wherein God might be most glorified. In his duo time he will manifest it.' MEMOIR OF KICKARD SIBBES, D.D. IxXV tongue not been cut out — no Parliament sat for years ! — there had been stormy debates on that ! So far as Sibbes was concerned, it does not appear that any part of the sentence was ever put into execution. He continued preacher at Gray's Inn, and Master of Catharine Hall. This assures us that powerful friends, the Brooks and Veres, Manchesters and Warwicks, must have stood by him. But there was no compromise on his part. I find that almost like a menace, and most surely a defiance, Sibbes introduced into a sermon, preached immediately after the decision, an expUcit eulogy of Sherland, the recorder of Northampton, for what he had done toward the impropriation scheme ; and published the sermon.* Still it was crushed, the 'monies' confiscated,' the 'purchases' reversed, the whole holy enterprise branded, and its agents dis- graced. One thing is to be recalled. Among the * things pro- jected,' Laud enumerates, with imbecile forgetfulness, precisely such a scheme of purchase of ' impropriations ' — by HlMSELF.t So that it stands confessed that not the thing itself was dan- gerous and illegal, but the doers of it. Let only him and his appoint to the places, and all was well and right. But let men such as Sibbes, Gouge, Taylor, Davenport in the Church, and the foremost men for worth in the State, their enemies themselves being witnesses, be the appointers, and instantly it smells of 'treason, stratagem, wiles.' These or those dangerous to Church and State ? What is the award of posterity ? And yet defenders have been found for the transparently mendacious and infamous act. Such jeer at the paltry minority of Puritanism, oblivious of what a living poet has finely expressed — ' You trust in numbers, I Trust in One only.' J Let US see how Laud himself met it when it came in awful re- surrection back upon him. Every one is aware that the suppres- sion of the 'feoffment-impropriation' scheme formed one of the counts in the great roll of accusation, whose issue was the block on Tower Hill. A careful record was kept of charges and answers, and the whole have been republished in the Works of Laud. It is but fitting that what he had to say should appear. Here, then, are ' charge ' and ' defence.' The whole case, so vital as between Laud and the Puritan worthies, among whom Richard Sibbes was prominent, can then be judged of : — * See ' Christ is Best,' in the present Yolume, p. 349. t See the whole list in his works, as after-referenced. J Cecil and Mary, as ante, p. 10. Ixxvi MEMOIR OF KICHAED SIBBES, D.D. That whereas divers gifts and dispositions of divers sums of money werehere- tofore viade hy divers cliaritahle and tvell-disjjosed j)ersons, for the buying in of divers impropriations, for the maintenance of preaching the ivord of God in several churches; the said archhp., about eight years last past, ivilfully and maliciously caused the said gifts, feoffments, and conveyances, made to the uses aforesaid, to be overthrown in his majesty's Court of Exchequer, contrary to law, as things dangerous to the Church and State, under the specious j^retence of buying in appropriations ; lohereby that pious ivork was suppressed and trodden down, to the great dishonour of God and scandal of religion. This article is only about the feoffments. That which I did was this : I was (as then advised upon such information as was given me) clearly of opinion, that this was a cunning way, under a glorious pretence, to over- throw the church government, by getting into their power more dependency of the clergy than the king, and all the peers, and all the bishops in all the kingdom had. And I did conceive the plot the more dangerous for the fairness of the pretence ; and that to the State as well as the Church. Hereupon, not "maliciously" (as 'tis charged in the article), but con- scientiously, I resolved to sujjpress it, if by law it might be done. Upon this, I acquainted his majesty with the thing, and the danger which I con- ceived would in few years spring out of it. The king referred me to his attorney, and the law. Mr Attorney Noye, after some pause upon it, pro- ceeded in the exchequer, and there it was, by judicial proceeding and sen- tence, overthrown. If this sentence were according to law and justice, then there's no fault at all committed. If it were against law, the fault, whate'er it be, was the judges', not mine ; for I solicited none of them. And here I humbly desired, that the Lords would at their leism'e read over the sentence given in the exchequer,* which I then delivered in; but by reason of the length, it was not then read. Whether after it were, I cannot tell. I desired likewise that my counsel might be heard in this and all other points of law. 1. The first witness was Mr Kendall. f He says, that speaking with me about Presteen, ' I thanked God that I had overthrown this foeffment.' 2. The second witness, Mr Miller,]: says he heard me say, ' They would have undone the church, but I have overthrown their feoflment.' These two witnesses prove no more than I confess. For in the manner afore- said, I deny not but I did my best in a legal way to overthrow it. And if I did thank God for it, it was my duty to do so, the thing being in my judgment so pernicious as it was. 3. The third witness was Mr White, one of the feoffees. § He says, * that coming as counsel in a cause before me, when that business was done, I fell bitterly on him as an underminer of the church.' I remember well his coming to me as counsel about a benefice. And 'tis very likely I spake my conscience to him, as freely as he did his to me ; but the parti- culars I remember not ; nor do I remember his coming afterwards to me to * Sir Lcolin Jenkins liath a copy of it out of the records of the exchequer. W. S. A. C. (See liushwortli's Collections, vol. ii. pp. 151, 152.) t ' William Kendall.'— Prynue's Cant. Doom, p. 388. i ' Tempest Miller.'— Ibid. § John Wliitc. He was, in 1640, M.P. for Southwark, and chairman of the ComniiUoe for Relijiijion. Ho was commonly called ' Century' White from the title of his celebrated tractate, 'The Firat Century of Malignant Priests,' (Wood. Ath. Ox. iii. 144, 145). MEMOIR OF RICHAUD SIBBES, D.D. Ixxvii Fulham; nor his offer ' to change the men or the course, so the thing might stand.' For to this I should have been as willing as he was ; and if I re- member right, there was order taken fortius in the decree of the Exchequer. And his majesty's pleasure declared, that no penny so given should be turned to other use. And I have been, and shall ever be, as ready to get in impropriations, by any good and legal way, as any man (as may appear by my labours about the impropriations in Ireland). But this way did not stand either with my judgment or conscience. 1. First, because little or nothing was given by them to the present in- cumbent, to whom the tithes were due, if to any ; that the parishioners which payed them, might have the more cheerful instruction, the better hospitality, and more full relief for their poor. ' 2. Secondly, because most of the men they put in, were persons dis- affected to the discipline, if not the doctrine, too, of the Church of Eng- land. ' 3. Thirdly, because no small part was given to schoolmasters, to season youth above, for their party ; and to young students in the univer- sities, to purchase them and their judgments to their side, against their coming abroad into the church. ' 4. Fourthly, because all this power to breed and maintain a faction, was in the hands of twelve men, who were they never so honest, and free from thoughts of abusing this power, to fill the church with schism, yet who should be successors, and what use should be made of the power, was out of human reach to know.' 5. Because this power was assumed by, and not to themselves, without any legal authority, as Mr Attorney assured me. He further said, ' that the impropriations of Presteen, in Radnorshire, was specially given to St Autolin's, in London.* I say the more the pity, considering the poorness of that country, and the little preach- ing that was among that poor people, and the plenty which is in Lon- don. Yet because it was so given, there was care taken after the decree, that they of St Autolin's had consideration, and I think to the fidl. He says, ' that indeed they did not give anything to the present incumbents, till good men came to be in their places.' Scarce one incumbent was bettered by them. And what then ? Li so many places not one ' good man' found? 'Not one factious enough against the church, for Mr White to account him good ? ' Yet he thinks ' I disposed these things afterwards to unworthy men.' ' TruW, had they been at my disposal, I should not wittingly have given them to Mr White's worthies.' But his majesty laid his command upon his attorney, and nothing was done or to be done in these things, but by his direction. For Dr Heylin, if he spake anything amiss concerning this feoffment, in any sermon of hisf he is living to answer it ; me it concerns not. ' Mr Brown in the sum of the charge omitted not this. And I answered as before. And in his reply he * This impropriation was, after the forfeiture, granted by King Charles I. to the rector of Presteign for ever. This gi-ant was revoked during the Eebellion, hut con- firmed by King Charles II. at the beginning of his reign. t The Sermon to which reference is here made, was preached by Heylin, at St Mary's, Oxford, July 11. 1630, at the Act. The passage relating to the feoffees will be found in Prynne fCant. Doom, p. 386), who transcribed it from a MS. copy of the Sermon in Abp. Laud's study ; and in Heylin (Cypr. Ang. p. 199, Lond. 1671). who appears in his turn to have transcribed it from Prynne. Ixxviii MEMOIR OF EICHAED SIBBES, D.D. turned again upon it, that it must be a crime in me, because I projected to overthrow it. But, under favour, this follows not. For to project (though the word ' projector' sounds ill in England), is no more than to forecast and forelay any business. Now as 'tis lawful for me, by all good and fit means, to project the settlement of anything that is good ; so is it as lawful, by good and legal means, to project the overthrow of anything that is cun- ningly or apparently evil. And such did this feoffment appear to my under- standing, and doth still.' As for reducing of impropriations to their proper use, they may see (if they please) in my Diary (whence they had this) an- other project to buy them into the church's use. For given they will not be. But Mr Pryn would shew nothing, nor Mr Nicolas see anything, but what they thought would make against me. Of this Defence, it must be said in the apophthegm of Helps, * It would often be as well to condemn a man unheard, as to con- demn him upon the reasons which he openly avows for any course of action/* Still, in common with the whole of the 'Answers,' as tragically told in the ' History of the Troubles,'-}- it exhibits no little astuteness and dexterity, and more than all his resoluteness in assertion of conscience. There is also characteristic strategy shewn in his retreats behind others who acted with him, now Attorney- General Noye, and now the king himself, with an almost humorous contrast in the surrender of Hey] in to his fate. While then we cannot altogether deny that an answer (not reply merely, but answer) is returned, nor that his infamy was shared ; yet there lies behind all the indisputable fact, that here was an associa- tion of the very salt of Church and State, seeking from their own resources to purchase in a legal way, — in the very way their accuser himself had done, and still proposed to do, — ' impropriations' in the hands of laymen who were not only willing, but wishful, to part with them, and to place therein, through the recognised autho- rities, men of kindred character with themselves, in order that the gospel might be fully preached, and the people cared for — and Laud prevents. It is not more strange than sad, that in this nine- teenth century, men should be found maintaining that Laud did right — that in entering among ' the things to be done,' the overthrow of the ' Feoffees,' or the frustration of an earnest effort whereby men of God, in the truest sense, would have 'fed the flock of God, which he hath redeemed with his own blood,' he came to a resolution, and in the execution of it performed a service, to be remembered and praised, not deplored. But, indeed, such de- fences only mask a deeper hatred. For often, as Lovell Beddoes puts it — * Thoughts in the Cloister and tlie Crowd. 1835, 12mo, page 9. t The History of the Troubles and Trial of Archbishop Laud. Works (edited by Scott and Bliss in ' Anglo-Calhclic Library'), vol. iv. pp. 302-306. MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. Iirn'x ' These are the words that grow, like grass and nettles Out of dead men ; and speckled hatreds hide, Like toads, among them.'* There is always a certain nimbus of glory around a decollated head, and I am disposed to concede that a truer man, great among the small, fell on Tower Hill than he whose face paled on the awful block of Whitehall window, though it was a king's and has been canonized as a martyr's. There was a stout-heartedness in the face of fearful odds in the stricken and forsaken primate through- out his trial that commands a measure of respect ; and, perhaps, such is the inscrutable mystery of poor human nature, he deceived himself into a conscientious suppression of all consciences that dif- fered from his own. Neither would I fors^et that one or two, or even three or four — Hall and Prideaux, Ussher, Davenant, and WilHam Chillingworth — may be named, who, self-contradictorily, were advanced in the church more or less by him.t I will not conceal this, though historic candour compels me to affirm that, in so far as they fell in with his wishes (taking Bishop Hall as an example), they stained the white of their souls, and that Ussher and the apostolic Bedell and ChilHngworth protested against the ulti- mate development of his views and actings. I gladly give him all praise for his honest and courageous word to the king, when his irreverent Majesty camein too late and interrupted * prayers.' It was a brave and worthy request that he made that the king should be present ' at prayers as well as sermon every Sunday.' J I found no common joy also in coming, in the arid pages of the * Diary,' upon these pitying words about a very venerable Puritan, gleaming like a drop of dew, or even a human tear : — ' In Leicester the dean of the Arches suspended one Mr Angel 1, who had con- tinued a lecturer in that great town for these divers years, without any license at all to preach, yet took liberty enough. I doubt his violence hath cracked his brain, and do therefore use him more tenderly, because I see the hand of God hath overtaken him.' § Brook (' Lives of the Puritans ' ||) testily criticises the entry. The conclusion was false, for the ' violence ' of the good AngeU was the ' fine frenzy ' of a man in awful earnest, in a fashion which Laud could not so much as apprehend. Still he is entitled to the full advantage of it, and to have it placed beside the kindred touch- * Poems : Posthumous and Collected, vol. i. p. 109. t ' Advanced.' The most has been made of this in the following acute and, in certain respects, valuable pamjihlet : — ' A Letter to the Kev. J. C. Ryle, A.B., in Reply to his Lecture on " Baxter and his Times." By a Clergyman of the Diocese of Exeter. Exeter, 1853. 8vo.' X Diary, Nov. 14. 1626. § Ap. for 1634, pp, 325-6. |I Brook, iii. 236. IXXX MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. ing notices of his dying servants, his love for whom is remarkable.* But with every abatement, unless we are to blur the noblest names of the Christianity of England ; to write ' false ' against its truest, and refuse honour to men who, rather than fail in fealty to what they believed was written in the word of God, hazarded all that was dear to them ; unless we are to overtop the loftiest intellects by one of the lowest, and sanctified genius and learning by one who was no scholar, and even could not write tolerable English, we must denounce every attempt to exalt and extol the morbid craving for an impossible 'uniformity' of this hard, cruel, unlovingly zealous, and unlovable man, around whom there hangs but a single gentle memory of tenderness to frailty or mercy to penitence ; from whose pen there never once flowed one true word for Christ or the salva- tion of souls ; from whom, in his darkened end, there came not so much as that remorseful touch that wins our sympathy for a Stephen Gardiner, ' Erravi cum Petro at non fievi cum Petro.'-f Claver- house, the * bloody,' and the first Charles, the ' false,' have been idealised. We look upon their pensive faces, and feel how traitorous they must have been to their better nature. But Laud it is not pos- sible to idealise. The more, successive biographers have elucidated his history ; they have only the more made him a definite object of contempt. He Vv^as elevated above men who, by head and shoulders (and we know what the head includes), were taller than himself. I The stilts fell from beneath him, and he found his level, as ' im- becile ' (it is Lord Macaulay's word), as contemptible, as worthless a man as ever rose to power — a mitred Robespierre. A certain party are voluble in pronouncing their judgments upon the victims of Laud. It were to play false to truth to let them go unanswered ; and the present is undoubtedly an occasion demanding such answer and out-speaking. But — ' I say not that the man I praise By that poor tribute stands more high, I say not that the man I blame Be not of purer worth than I ; * Land's servants. I give one entry in Diary: — 'Sept. 23. 1621. — Thy. Mr Adam Torless, my ancient, loving, and faithful servant, tlien my steward, after he had served me full forty two years, died, to my great loss and grief.' t Gardiner. Fuss's Judges of England, v. 370. X A few wise words from ' Thoughts in the Cloister and the Crowds' may enforce our remarks — ' Perhaps it is the secret thought of many that an ardent love of power and wealth, however culpable in itself, is nevertheless a proof of superior sagacity. But in answer to lliis it has been well remarked, that even a child can clench its little hand the moment it is born ; and if tliey imagine that the successful, at any rate, must bo sagacious, let tliem remember the saying of a phi]oso])ber, that the meanest reptiles are found at the summit of the loftiest pillars.' (Pp. 20-1.) MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. Ixxxi But when I move reluctant lips For holy justice, human right, The sacred cause I strive to jilead Lends me its favour and its might.'* CHAPTER IX. SIBBES'S 'introductions' TO WORKS OF CONTEMPORARIES. Whitaker — Duke of York —Paul Bayne — Henry Scudder — Ezekiel Culverwell — Dr John Preston — John Smith — John Ball — Richard Capel. But I turn the leaf, and pass on in our ' Memoir.' And it is a. pleasant change to turn from a Laud, chaffering over the breadth of a phylactery ; from a Mountagu, overwhelming holy men, such as Samuel Ward, with the ribaldry of a ' Gagg for the new gospel ! — no, a new gagg for an old goose ! ' from a Wren, tracking every ' two or three ' who sought to meet together in the name of the Lord, to Richard Sibbes at his post, discharging his duties as a minister of Christ through ' good and evil report,' and sus- taining the kindliest relationship with all the 'good men and true' of his contemporaries. There are pleasant memorials of the latter in various occasional productions, such as 'prefaces' and 'epistles dedicatory,' which Sibbes from time to time prefixed to good books of good men. These I would now bring together. They give us some very precious glimpses of his society, from a pretty early date to near the close. They are, indeed, so many little ' essays' on reli- gious subjects, written in his very best style, and breathing all the sweetness, and informed with all the spirituality, of hislargerwritings. Where can we turn to more felicitous words about ' faith,' and 'prayer,' and ' holiness,' and the 'Christian life' ? while there is a modesty of praise of the author introduced, whether living or dead, in striking contrast with the adulation then prevalent. First of all, I find among the ' Epicedia in Obitum Gul : Whitakeri,'t a copy of Greek verses to the memory of that truly great man, whose mother was Elizabeth Nowell, sister of Dr Alexander Nowell, and who, if he had found such a biographer as Nowell has in Archdeacon Churton, would be better known to the present generation. As a Master of Sibbes's own College of St John's, and as having married a sister first of Samuel and Ezekiel Culverwell, and next the widow of Dudley Fenner, and in every-day association with the Culverwells * ' Passion-Flowers,' by Mrs Howe. Boston, 1854, p. 113. t "Works, Geneva, fol. 1610, vol. i. p. 706 ; previously published in 1596. 4to. Ixxxii MEMOIR OF EICHARD SIBBES, D.D. and Fenners, Cartwright, Fuller, Chadderton, and Dod, Whitaker could not but be known and esteemed by him. He was venerated by all parties. He was, says even the atrabilious Anthony Wood, ' one of the greatest men his college ever produced, the desire and love of the present times and the envy of posterity, that cannot bring forth a parallel.' * ' The learned Whitaker,' observes Leigh, ' the honour of our schools and the angel of our church, than whom our age saw nothing more memorable.' f 'Who,' exclaims Bishop Hall, ' ever saw him without reverence, or heard him without won- der?'! Whitaker died in 1596, the second year of Sibbes's stu- dentship. It is significant that the verses of such a mere youth received a place beside the tributes of the greatest men of the a^e:— T'/^K o^driv ffccgoSoi/ ToXkoig, 'ga/tfr^oa Ua'TTiSTUtv "E^o^&S U'Travruv, o d' avid^a/jusv sbvsi 'laog, Kat Mcusojv o^dSjg rag dv'sifjyi &\i^ag. T^v Xv/JLTjv TiaxYiV Zojv 7i davuv Ti. • V IxXXvi MEMOIE OF EICHAUD SIBBES, D.D. mine, by unnecessary intermeddling. The worthiness of the men on both side is such, that it should move men to moderation in their censures either way. Neither is this question of like consequence with others in this busi- ness, but there is a wide difference between this difference and other differ- ences. And one cause of it, is the difficulty of understanding, how God conceives things, which differs in the whole kind from ours, he conceiving of things altogether and at once without discourse, we one thing after another, and by another. Our comfort is, that what we cannot see in the light of nature and grace, we shall see in the light of gloiy, in the university of heaven ; before which time, that men should in all matters have the same conceit of things of this nature, is rather to be wished for, than to be hoped. That learned bishop (now with God) that undertook the defence of Mr Perkins, hath left to the church, together with the benefit of his labours, the sorrow for his death, the fame of his worth, an example hke- wise of moderation, who, though he differed from Mr Perkins in this point, yet shewed that he could both assent in lesser things, and with due respect maintain in gi-eater matters.* If we should discern of differences, the church would be troubled with fewer distempers ; I speak not as if way were to be given to Vorstian, lawless, licentious liberty of prophecy ; that every one, so soon as he is big of some new conceit, should bring forth his abortive monster : for thus the pillars of Christian faith would soon be shaken, and the church of God, which is a house of order, would become a Babel, a house of confusion. The doleful issues of which pretended liberty, we see in Polonia, Transylvania, and in countries nearer hand. We are much to bless God for the king's majesty's firmness this way, unto whose open ap- pearing in these matters, and to the vigilancy of some in place, we owe our freedom from that schism, that troubleth our neighbours. But for diversity of apprehensions of matters far remote from the founda- tion ; these may stand with public and personal peace. I will keep the reader no longer from the treatise ; the blessing of heaven go with it, that through the good done by it, much thanksgiving may be to God in tha Church ! Amen. R. Sibbs. Gray's Inn. Our next name is Henry Scudder, whom Richard Baxter and John Owen united to praise while he was alive. In 1620, he pubHshed his inestimable little treatise, worthy companion to his ' Christian's Daily Walk in Holy Security and Peace,' entitled ' Key of Heaven, the Lord's Prayer Opened.'t To it Sibbes prefixed a ' Recom- * The ' learned bishop ' is Eobert Abbot, Bisliop of Salisbur^y, and the reference is to liis ' Defence of the Keformed Catholick of W. Perkins against Dr W. Bishop.' 4to, 1611. t A Key of Heaven : the Lord's Prayer opened, and so applied, that a Christian may learn how to pray, and to procure all things which may make for the glory of God, and the good of himself, and of his neighbour. Containing likewise such doctrines of faith and goodness, as may be very useful to all that desire to live godlj in Christ Jesus. The second edition, enlarged by the author. Mat. vii. 7, Aek, and it shall be given you ; seek, and ye shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened nuto you. Oratio justi davis coeli. London : Printed by Thomas Harper, for Ben- jamin Fisher, and arc to be sold at the sign of the Talbot in Aldersgate Street. 1633. This ' Key ' has b(>(Mi crroiieously included among Sibbes's own writings, e.g., Brook f Lives of Puritans, ii. 420), and oven in Dr Bliss's Sale-Catalogue. MEMOIB OP RICHAED SIBBES, D.D. IxXXvil mendation,' whicli is in itself an Essay on Prayer, of rare value. Scudder was a contemporary of Sibbes in Cambridge, of Christ's Church. Afterwards he became successively minister at Drayton, in Oxfordshire, and at CoUingbom-Dukcs, in Wiltshire. In the year 1643, he was chosen one of the 'Assembly of Divines,' and was exem- plary in his attendance. His books are pre-eminently scriptural and practical, and there are occasional similes and scraps of out- of-the-way incidents of a quaint beauty and appositeness. It is easy to understand that such a man would be dear to Richard Sibbes.* Thus he writes : — To be much in persuading those that be favourites of some gi'cat person, to use that interest for theh best advantage, were an endeavour somewhat needless, considering natural self-love inclineth men in such cases to be sensible enough of their own good. Yet so dull is our apprehension of matters that are of an higher nature, that though we have the car of God always open unto us, and free access to the throne of grace through Christ who appeareth in heaven for us, carrying our names in his breast, yet we need stirring up to improve this blessed liberty, though the whole world be not worth this one prerogative, that we can boldly call God Father. This dis- proportion of om* carriage ariseth in part from Satan's malice, who laboureth to keep us in darkness, that we beheve not, or mind not our best privileges, which if we did, how glorious would dhr lives appear ! how comfortably and fi'uitfully should we walk ! what honour should God have by us ! what Bweet sacrifice from us ! how should we overlook all opposite power ! But now by reason we are prone to believe Satan, and the lies of our own heart ; and ready to call truth itself into question, as if these things were too good to be true, no mar\^el if we pass our days so deadly. For what use of an hidden and locked up treasure, if we use not this key of prayer to fetch from thence for all our need ? What benefit of all the precious promises made in Christ unto us, unless we allege them unto God, and with a re- verend boldness bind him with his own word, which he can no more deny, than cease to be God ? If we took these things to heart, God shoukl hear oftener from us, we would be more in heaven than we are, seeing we should bring as much grace and comfort from God as we coukl bring faith to grasp and carry away. Besides this fore -mentioned mindlessness of our privileges, since the fall the soul naturally loveth to spend and scatter itself about these present Bcnsible things, and cannot without some strife gather itself together, and tix upon heavenly things. Now this talking with God requireth an actual bent of the mind, and carrieth up the whole soul into heaven, and exerciseth, as all the parts, so all the graces of the soul, faith especially, prayer being nothing else but the flame of faith. And Satan knowing that when we send up our desires to God, it is to fetch supply against him, troubleth the soul, weak of itself, with a workl of distractions. Where he cannot corrupt the doctrine of prayer (as in popery) with heresies and superstitious foUies, there he laboureth to hinder the exercise of it. Wherein we should be so far from being discouraged, that we sbould reason rather that must needs be an excellent duty which is so irksome to the flesh, and which the devil so eagerly sets against. This should encourage us to this exercise, whereia * Scudder. Consult Brook's 'Lives of the Puritans,' ii, 504, sej. IxXXviii MEMOIR OF EICHAED SIBBES, D.D. lieth all our strength, that if in spite of Satan's annoyance and our own in- disposition, we will set upon this duty, we shall find ourselves by little and little more raised up to heaven, and our hearts more and more enlarged, God rewarding the use of that little grace we find at the first, with increase of strength and comfort. To him that hath (in the exercise of that he hath) shall be given more. We should labour not to be ignorant of Satan's en- terprises, who besides his diverting our minds from prayer, and disturbing us in it, laboureth by all means to draw us to some sin, the conscience whereof will stop our mouths, and stifle our prayers, and shake our confi- dence, and eclipse our comfort ; which he oft aimeth more at than the sin itself unto which he tempteth us. We should labour therefore to pre- serve ourselves in such a state of soul, wherein we might have boldness mth God, and wherein this gainful trading with him might not be hindered. To pass over many other causes of the neglect of this intercourse, and dealing with God by prayer, we may well judge, as one of the chief, a self- sufficiency whereby men dwell too much in themselves. He that hath no- thing at home will seek abroad. The poor man (saith Solomon) speaketh supplications. If we were poor in spirit, and saw our own emptiness, it would force us out of ourselves. Alas ! what temptation can we resist, much less overcome, without fresh succour ? What cross can we endure without impatience, if we have not new support ? What success can we look for, yea, in common afiairs, without his blessing ? What good can we do, nay, think of, without new strength ? When we do any good by his power, . do we not need pardon for the blemishes of our best performances ? What good blessing can we enjoy, so as we defile not oui-selves in it, without a further blessing, giving us with the thing the holy use of it ? Yet we see ■ most men content to receive blessings as they come from God's general • providence, without regarding any sanctified use by prayer, whereas holy ' men, knowing that God will be sought unto even for those things of which he hath given a promise, Ezek. xxxvi. 37, in obedience to this his divine order, desire to receive all from him as a fruit of their prayers. Axid God's manner is to keep many blessings fi-om his children until they have begged them, as delighting to hear his children speak. The consideration whereof moveth those that have nearest communion with God to acknowledge him in all their ways, depending on him for direction, strength, success, where- upon he delighteth in shewing himself more familiarly unto them in the sweetest experiences of his love, guiding them by his counsel whilst they abide here, and after, bringing them to glory, Ps. xxxvii. 24. As other graces grow in those that are in the state of grace, so this spirit of prayer receiveth continual increase upon more inward acquaintance with God, and their own estates. Whence they can never be miserable, having God to pour forth their spirits and ease their hearts unto, who cannot but regard the voice of his own Spirit in them. But of ourselves, such is our case, that God who knoweth us better than "we know ourselves, saith, we know not what or how to pray, Rom. viii. 26. This language of Canaan is strange unto us. Which oitr blessed Saviour in mercy considering, stirred up a desire in his disciples to be taught of him the Son, how to speak to the Father. Where thereupon he teacheth them a fonn, which for heavenly fulness of matter, and exactness of order, sheweth that it could come from no other Author. This holy pattern comprising so much in so little, all things to be desired in six short petitions, it is needful for the guides of God's people to lay open the riches of it to the view of those that are less exercised. An endeavour MEMOIR OF EICHAKD SIBBES, D.D. Ixxyjx ■which his excellent majesty thought not unbeseeming the greatness of a king. For the use of a set form of prayer, and this in special, I will make no question ; yet in the use of this prayer, we may dwell more in the medita- tion and enforcing such petitions as shall concern our present occasions. For instance, if ever there were time of prajing, ' Let thy kingdom come,' let Chi'ist ai'ise and his enemies be scattered, then certainly now is the time for us to ascend up into heaven by our prayers, and awake Christ, that he would rebuke the winds and waves, and cause a calm ; that he ■would be strong for his church, in maintaining his own cause. It is God's manner, before any great work for his chm'ch, to stir up the spirits of his beloved ones to give him no rest. How earnest was Daniel with the Lord immediately before the delivery out of Babylon, Dan. xi. And undoubtedly, if we join the forces of om* praj'ers together, and set upon God with an holy violence, he would set his power, his wisdom, his goodness on work for the exalting of his church, and ruin of the enemies of it. Now is the time for Moses his hands to be upheld, whilst Amalek goeth down. The prevailing power of prayer vvdth God in times of danger, appeareth not only in the sacred history of the Bible, but hath been recorded in all ages of the church. In the primitive church, a.d. 175, the army of Chris- tians was called the thundering legion, because, upon then- prayers, God scattered their enemies with thunder, and refreshed themselves with showers in a great drought. After, in the good Emperor Theodosius his time, a.d. 394, upon an earnest prayer to Clu-ist, the winds fought from heaven for him against his enemies, as they did for us in 1588. And continually since, God never left the force of faithful prayer mthout witness. K we would observe how God answereth prayers, we should see a blessed issue of all the holy desires he kindles in om- hearts ; for he cannot but make good that title whereby he is styled, ' a God hearing prayer,' Ps. Ixv. 2, which should move us to sow more prayers into his bosom, the fruit whereof we should reap in our greatest need. It would be a strong evidence in these troublesome times of the futm'e good success of the chm-ch, if we were earnest in soUciting Christ ■with these words which himself hath taught us, ' Let thy kingdom come.' For put him to it, and ' he -will never fail those that seek him,' Ps. is. 10. He loveth importunity. But to speak something of this treatise of this godly and painful minister of Christ, which is written by him without affectation, as desirous to clothe spiritual things with a spiritual manner of writing, the diligent and godly reader shall observe a sound, clear, substantial handling of the greatest points that natm-ally fall within the discourse, and a more large and usefril unfolding of many things, than in former treatises. It appeareth he sought the good of aU ; so that, besides the labours of other holy men, there wiU be just cause of blessing God for his assistance in this work. To whose blessing I commend both it and the whole Israel of God. Gray's Inn. R. Sibbes. Passing on to 1623-4, we have a delightful ' epistle' prefixed to Ezekiel Culverw^ell's ' Treatise of Faith applied especially unto the use of the weakest Christians.' * This little volume had * A Treatise of Faith. Wherein is declared how a man may live by faith, and find relief in all his necessities. Applied especially unto the nse of the weakest Christians. By Ezekiel Culverwell. The just shall live by faith. The seventh XC MEMOIR OF KICHAKD SIEBES, D.D. passed through seven editions by 1633 ; and it were well if its popularity could be revived ; for it overflows with profound thought, sagacious counsel, pungent appeal, and true eloquence. But let Dr Gouge characterise it and its author. ' God,' he says, ' sent Ezekiel Culverwell, as of old he sent Ezekiel Buzi, to set forth the promises of God more plentifully and pertinently than ever before ; and that to breed faith where it is not, to strengthen it where it is weak, to settle it where it wavereth, to repair it where it decayeth, to apply it aright to every need, to extend it to sanctification as well as to justification, and to point out the singular use of it in matters temporal, spiritual, and eternal.' And he adds — ' What I say of him, I know of him ; for from mine infancy have I known him, and under his ministry was I trained up in my younger years, he being at least two-and-twenty years older than myself.'* Let us now read Sibbes's ' Epistle to the Christian Reader : ' — The leading of a happy life (the attainment whereof this treatise directeth tmto) is that which all desire, but God's truth only discovereth, and faith only enjoyeth. In the first Adam, our happiness was in our own keeping ; but he, by turning from God to the creature, made proof what and whence he was ; a creature raised out of nothing, and without the supporting power of him in whom all things consist, subject to fall into a state worse than nothing again. Hence God, out of his infinite power, and depth of goodness intending the glory of his mercy, in restoring man, would not trust man with his own happiness ; but would have it procured and established in the person of a second Adam, in whom we recover a surer estate than we los' in the first. For though Adam's soul was joined to God, yet that knitting was . within the contingent and changeable liberty of his own will ; but now wo are brought to God in an everlasting covenant of mercy, by faith in Christ ; who, by taking the nature of man into unity of his person, and not the person of any, became a public person, to be the author of eternal salvation to all that receive him ; and so gathering us that were scattered horn God, into one head, bringeth us back again to God, by a contrary way to that where- by we fell, that is, by cleaving to God by faith, from whom we fell by distrust. A fit grace for the state of gi'ace, giving the whole glory to God, and empty- ing the soul of all self-sufiiciency, and enlarging it to receive what is freely wrought and oflered by another. Thus we come to have the comfort, and God the glory of mercy ; which sweet attribute moved him to set all other attributes on work to make us happy. Out of the bowels of which mercy, as he chose us to eternal salvation in Christ, so vouchsafeth he all things necessary to life and godliness. And as the same love in God giveth us heaven, and furnisheth us with all things needful in the way, until we come thither ; so the same faith which saveth us, layeth hold likewise on the promises of necessaiy assistance, comfort, provision, and protection : and edition, corrected and amended. Ephes. vi. 16, ' Above all, taking the shield of faith.' Rora. XV. 4, ' Whatsoever things wore written aforetime, were written for our learn- ing, that we through patience and comfort of the Scriptures might have hope.' London : Printed by J. D. for Hen. Overton, and are to be sold at his shop at the entering in of Fope's-head Alley, out of Lumbard Street, 1633. * ' To the Christian Reader,' prefixed to Treatise of Faith, supra. MEMOIR OF KICHARD SIBBES, D.D. XCl this office it perfonneth in all the several stations of this life, until it hath brought us unto the enjoying of him ' in whose presence is fuhiess of joy for evermore,' Ps. xvi. 11. We see that same love in parents, which moveth them to give an inheri- tance to their sons, moveth them likewise to provide for them, and to train them up in experience of their fatherly care. So it pleaseth our first and best Father, besides the main promise of salvation, to give us many other rich and precious promises, that in taste of his goodness and truth in these, we may at length yield up our souls to him, as to our faithful Creator, 1 Pet. iv. 19, with the more assured comfort ; and the longer we live here, be more rooted in faith. ' I know whom I have trusted,' 2 Tim. i. 12, saith aged St Paul. But alas ! how little is that we know of his ways. Job xxvi. 14, because we observe him not, making good his word unto us ! ' All his ways are mercy and truth,' Ps. xxv. 10, and every ' word is a tried word,' Ps. xii. 6. For the better help of God's people, to know their portion in those good things, which their father not only layeth up for them, Ps. xxxi. 19, for times to come, but layeth out for them here as his wisdom seeth fit ; this reverend and holy man of God hath compiled this treatise, wherein he layeth open the veins of promises hidden in the Scriptures, to the view of every Christian, and digesteth them in their orders ; and withal, sheweth their several value and use, for the beautifying of a holy life ; which wits less exercised, of themselves, would not so well have discerned. Now that we may the rather benefit ourselves by this treatise, it will not be inconvenient to know these four things. First, that it supposeth a reader grounded in the knowledge of the nature and properties of God, of Christ and his offices, of the covenant of grace, and such like : because as in an arch, one stone settleth another, so there is such a linking together of points in divinity, that one strengtheneth another. For from whence hath faith that efficacy, but because it is that which is required in the covenant, to lay hold on the free promises ? And whence have the promises their strength, but from the constant nature of Jehovah ; who giveth a being to his word, and is at peace with us, by the all-sufficient sacrifice of the Mediator of the new covenant ? Words have their validity fi-om the authority of the speaker. Were not faith founded on the word of an infinite God, so thoroughly appeased, the soul would sink in gi'eat temptations, whereas now even mountains vanish before a believing soul. For what can stand against Christ, who is able to subdue all to himself? Hence it is, that now we are by faith, Phil. iii. 21, safer than Adam in Paradise, because we have a promise, which he wanted. Safer it is to be as low as hell with a promise, than in paradise without it, because faith wrought by the power of God, hath what strength God hath, on whom it resteth, and therefore worketh such wonders : God honouring that gi'ace, which honours him so much. But howsoever the knowledge of these things serveth the argument in hand ; yet it must not be expected, that he should be long in these things, which are but coincident, and should be foreknown : which I speak, be- cause some of weaker judgment, not considering the just bounds of treatises, may expect larger handling of some things. ^Miereas he hath laboured especially to furnish the argument in hand, and not to load the discourse. In the second place, it must be known, that the fruit of these things belong to such as are in Christ, in whom all promises are yea and amen, made and performed. He that by the immortal seed of the word and Spirit is born again, may claim a title to that he is bom vmto. These promises XCil MEMOIR OF EICHAED SIBBES, D.D. be as well his inheritance, as heaven itself is. For clearing of this, there be three degrees of promises ; one of salvation to absolute and personal obedience ; but this, by reason of weakness of the flesh, di-iveth us to a despair of ourselves, and so to the second promise of life by Christ. This requireth nothing but receiving by faith, which is wrought in those that are given to Christ, whilst grace is offered, the Spirit clothing the words with a hidden and strong power, and making them operative ; when they are commanded to believe, their hearts are opened to believe. To persons in this estate, are made a third kind of promises, of aU that is needful in this world, until all promises end in performance. Of both these promises, and the last especially, this book speaketh. Thirdly, it must be pressed upon those that mean to profit, that they resolve to come under Christ's government, and be willing to be led by the Spirit into all revealed truth. Wisdom is easy to such as are willing ; and the victory is as good as gotten, when the will is brought from thraldom to base affections, to resolve to be guided. For such a heart lieth open to God's gracious working, and the Spmt readily closeth with such a spirit, ' as putteth not bars of obstinacy. Notwithstanding, we must know in the fourth place, that when wc are at the best, we shall yet be in such a conflicting state, as that we shall long after that glorious liberty of the sons of God, after we have done the work God hath given us to do. For God will have a difference betwixt heaven and earth ; and shai-pen our desire of the coming of his kingdom, which nothing doth so much, especially in times of outward prosperity, as those tedious combats of the inner man. And yet let this raise up our spirits, that it is so far that this remainder should prejudice our interest in hap- piness, that thereby we are driven every day to renew our claim to the promise of pardon, and so to live by faith until this unclean issue be dried up. These sour herbs help us to relish Christ the better. Moreover, though in this life our endeavours come short of our desires, and we always allow a greater measure than we can attain unto ; yet we may, by stirring up the graces begun in us, and by suing God upon those promises of his Spirit and grace, whereby he hath made himself a debtor unto us, come to that measure, whereby we shall make the profession of religion glorious, and lovely in the eyes of others, and comfortable to om-selves ; and so shine far brighter than others do. Why then do we not, in the use of all sancti- fied means, beg of God, to make good the promises wherein he hath caused us to trust '? I)o we not, beside hfe of our bodies, desire health and strength to discharge all the offices of civil life ? And why should we not much more (if the life of God be in us) labour after health and vigour of Spirit, and for that anointing of the Holy Ghost, whereby we may do and sufier all things, so as we may draw others to a liking of our ways ? The truth is, Satan laboureth to keep us under belief of particular promises, and from renewing our covenant, in confidence, that God will perfect the work that he hath begun, and not repent him of his earnest. So far as thus we cherish distrust, we lie open to Satan. Strengthen faith, and strengthen all. Let us therefore at once set upon all duties required, and be in love with an holy life, above all other lives, and put ourselves upon God's mercy and truth ; and we shall be able fi"om experience, so far to justify all God's ways as that we would not be in another state for all the world. What gi'cater encouragement can we wish, than that om* corruptions shall fall more and more before the Spirit, and we shall be able to do all things through Christ that strengtheneth us ? MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. XCIU ■ To make these ways of God more plain unto us, this pains is taken by this man of God. Not to disparage the labours of other holy men (as far as I can judge), there is nothing in this kind more fully, judiciously, or savourily written, with greater evidence of a spirit persuaded of the goodness and truth of what it sets down. And though (distinct from respect to the author) the treatise deserveth much respect, yet it should gain the more acceptance, especially of those that are babes and young men in Christ, that it is written by a father of long and reverend esteem in the church ; who hath begun in all these rules to others. As for our bodies, so for our souls, we may more securely rely on an old experienced physician. He commendeth it unto thee, having felt the kindly working of it upon him- self. The Lord by his Spirit convey these truths into thy heart, and upon good felt hereby in thy soul, remember to desire God that he may still bring forth more fruit in his age, until he hath finished his coui'se with credit to the gospel, and an assured hope of a blessed change. Gray's Inn. Richard Sibbes. We place along with this another 'epistle' by Sibbes, prefixed to another small book by Culverwell. The copy of this in my library, was formerly in the possession of Charles I., and has his royal arms enstamped in gold on each side. Judging from its appearance, it must have been well read. The book is entitled, ' Time Well Spent in Sacred Meditations, Divine Observations, Heavenly Exhortations ;' and the 'Epistle Dedicatory' is addressed to an 'excellent Chris- tian woman,' who seems to have been greatly beloved by Sibbes, Mrs More. * It runs as follows : — To the rirjht icorshipfid and truhj religmis Mrs More. Eight Worshipful and worthy Mrs More. — The church of God hath not only benefit by exact and just treatises knit together in a methodical dependency of one part from another, but likewise of sententious independent speeches, that have a general lustre of themselves, as so many flowers in a garden, or jewels in a casket, whereof every one hath a distinct worth of tiiemselves ; and this maketh them the more acceptable, that being short they are fitter for the heart to carry, as having much in a little. This moved this reverend man of God, to spend what spare hours his sickness would afibrd him about thoughts in this kind. He was many years God's prisoner under the gout and stone, such diseases as will allow but little liberty to those that are arrested and tortured by them. So fruitful an expense of time in so weak and worn a body is seldom seen, scarce any came to him but went away better than they came ; God gave much strength of spirit to uphold his spirit from sinking under the strength of such diseases. It were a happy thing if we that are ministers of Christ, would on all con- ditions and times think of our calling, that our office is not tied to one day in a week, and one hour or two in that day, but that upon all fit occasions we are to quicken ourselves and others in the way homeward, as guides to heaven. We read not of the opening of heaven but to some gi-eat pm-pose. So it should be with the man of God, he should not open his mouth and let any thing fall (so far as frailty and the necessary occurrences of human life ■wiU permit) but what might minister some grace to the hearers. The reason why I made choice of you to dedicate them mito, is not that * Mrs More. She is named in his Will. XCIV MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIDBES, D.n. I mip;Iit discharge mine own debt unto you witli another man's coin, but that I could not think of any fitter than yourself, whom this ancient minister of Christ esteemed always very mi;ch for eminency of parts and grace, and you him as a man faithful, and one that maintained his ministerial authority with good success in his place ; God allotting your habitation in your younger years in that part of the country where he lived, and where you first learned to know God and yourself. In those times those parts were in regard of the air unhealthful, yet that air was so sweetened with the savouiy breath of the gospel, that they were termed the holy land. Here- upon I thought meet to commend these sententious speeches by your name to others. Which though (divers of them) may seem plain, yet what they want in show they have in weight, as coming fi-om a man very well ex- perienced in all the ways of God. The Lord follow you with his best bless- ings, that you may continue still to adorn the gospel of Christ in your place ! Yours in all Christian ser-\dce, R. Sibbes. Before passing on to other ' Epistles' of a public kind, I would here introduce a letter to Ussher, of probably 1628-29, which hap- pens to have been preserved. It reveals to us the keen zest and interest with which Sibbes observed what was transpiring, ' Peti- tion of Right,' and the like. It falls in here fittingly as an intro- duction to the next ' Epistle,' as there is in it a passing notice of the last illness of the ' Master' of ' Emmanuel.' Mr R. Sibbs to the Archbishop of Atmagh. Right Reverend, — My duty and ser^ace premised. I am forced of the sudden in midst of straits and distractions to write unto you, your ser- vant being presently to depart here : but I choose rather thus to express my remembrance of your grace, than to let slip so fit an opj^ortunity. I hope I shall always carry you in my heart, and preserve that deserved respect I owe to jou, who are oft presented to me as one that God hath shewed himself unto in more than ordinary measure, and set up high in the affections of the best. I know not the man li\'ing more beholden to God, in those respects, than yourself. It went for current here a while that you were dead, which caused the hearts of many to be more refreshed upon hearing the contrary. It is very ill losing of men of much meaner service in the church in these almost desperate times. Yesterday there was an agreement between the two houses about a petition of right, whereby the liberty of the subject is like to be established. Here is much joy for it, if it prove not a lightning before death. Our fears are more than our hopes yet. Doctor Preston is inclining to a consumption, and his state is thought doubtful to the physicians. The neighbour schism getteth still more strength with us. Bo)d dcjiciunt, mail perfwiuut. I cannot now enlarge myself, your servant hastening hence. The Lord still delight to shew himself strong with you, and to shield you in the midst of all dangers, and glorify himself by you, to the great comfort of his church, and the dis- heartening of his enemies ! I desire your grace to remember my respect to your wife, humbly thanking you \roi\\ for yom- undeserved love. — Your Grace's in all Christian service, to be commanded, R. Sibbs.* May 27. ♦ Ussher, ante xvi. letter ccccxxii. MEMOIR OF RICHAKD SIBBES, D.D. XCV We have a series of prefaces, in union with John Davenport, to various posthumous works of Dr John Preston, of whom I have had occasion to speak repeatedly in this memoir. I trust that the time is not distant when we shall have a worthy edition of his writings to place beside those of Sibbes. No books had such a wide, nay, universal audience through many generations. Edition fol- lowed upon edition, and now it is not easy to collect them all. It is mournful to think how Cambridge neglects her most illustrioua sons ! The Preston epistles call for no comment beyond an explana- tory word. I give them in order : — I. The ' New Covenant or Saint's Portion.' -'■= Dedication. niustrissimis, et Honoratissimis Viris, Theophilo Comiti Lincolniensi, et Gulielmo Vice-Comiti Say et Sele, Dominis suis submississime colendis has Johannis Prestoni, S.S. Theol. Doct., et CoUegii Immanuelis Magistri Primitias Devotissimi, Tarn Authoris, Dum Viveret, Quam Ipsorum, Qui Supersunt, Obseq^uii Testimonium, L.M.D.D.D. KiCHARDUS SiBS. Johannes Davenport. To the Reader. It had been much to have been desired (if it had so pleased the Father of spirits), that this worthy man had sur\'ived the publishing of these and other his lectm-es ; for then, no doubt, they would have come forth more refined and digested ; for, though there was very httle or no mistake in taking them irom his mouth, yet preaching and wi-iting have their several graces. Things livened by the expression of the speaker, sometimes take well, which after, upon a mature review, seem either superfluous or flat. And we oft see men very able to render their conceits in writing, yet not the happiest speakers. Yet we, considering (not so much what might have been, as) what now may be for the service of the church, thought good rather to communicate them thus, than that they sbould die witb the author. He was a man of an exact judgment and quick apprehension, an acute reasoner, active in good, choice in his notions ; one who made it his chief aim to promote the cause of Christ and the good of the church, which moved him to single out arguments answerable, on which he spent his best thoughts. He vv-as honoured of God to be an instrument of much good, whereunto he had advantage by those eminent places he was called unto. As he had a short * The New Covenant, or the Saint's Tortion : a Treatise unfolding the All-Suffi- ciency of God, Man's Uprightness, and tlie Covenant of Grace. Delivered in four- teen sermons upon Gen. xvii. 1, 2; ^hereunto are adjoined four sermons upon Eccles. ix. 1, 2, 11, 12. By the late faithful and wortliy minister of Jesus Christ, John Preston, Dr in Divinity, Chaplain in Ordinary to his Majesty, Master of Emmanuel College in Cambridge, and sometimes preacher of Lincoln's Inn. The fourth edition, corrected. ' He hath given a portion to them that fear him : he will ever be mindful of his covenant,' Ps. cxi. 5. London : Printed by I. D. for Nicholas Bourne, and are to be sold at tlie south entrance of the Royal Exchange 1630, 4to. XCVl MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. race to run, so he made speed, and did much in a Httle time. Though he was of an higher elevation and strain of spii'it than ordinary, yet, out of love to do good, he could frame his conceits so as might suit with ordinary understandings. A little before his death (as we were informed by the Right Honourable the Lord Viscount Say and Sele, in whose piety, wis- dom, and fidelity he put great repose), he was desirous that we should peruse what of his was fit for public use. We are not ignorant that it is a thing subject to censure to seem bold and witty in another man's work, and, therefore, as little is altered as may be. And we desire the reader rather to take in good part that which is intended for public good, than to catch at imperfections, considering they were but taken as they fell from him speakmg. And we entreat those that have anything of his in their hands, that they would not be hasty, for private respects, to publish them, till we, whom the author put in trust, have perused them. We pm-pose (by God's help) that what shall be judged fit shall come forth. We send forth these sermons of God's Ail- Sufficiency, and Man's Uprightness, and the Covenant of Grace first, as being first pre- pared by him that had the copies, and because the right understanding of these points hath a chief influence into a Christian life. The Lord give a blessing answerable, and continue still to send forth such faithful labourers into his harvest ! Richard Sirs. John Daa'enport. II. The ' Breastplate of Faith and Love.'* Dedication. Illustrissimo, Nobilissimoque Viro, Roberto Comiti Warwicensi, Johannis Prestoni, S.T.D., et CoUegii Immanuelis Q.f Magistri (cujus tutela?, dum in vivis esset, Primogenitum suum in DiscipHnam et Literis expoliendum tradidit), posthumorum tractatuum partem de natura fidei, ejusque effi- cacia, deque amore et operibus bonis, Devotissimi, tarn authoris, dum viveret, quam ipsorum qui supersunt, obsequii testimonium. M.D.D.D. RiCHARDUS SiBS. Johannes Davenport. To the Christian Reader. Christian Reader — Innumerable are the sleights of Satan, to hinder a Christian in his course towards heaven, by exciting the corniption of his own heart to disturb him, when he is about to do any good ; or by dis- couraging him with inward terrors, when he would solace himself with heavenly comforts ; or by disheartening him under the fears of sufierings, * The Breastplate of Faitli and Love.- A treatise, ■wherein the ground and exercise of faith and love, as they are set upon Christ their object, and as they are expressed in good works, is explained. Delivered in 18 sermons upon three several texts, by the late faitliful and wortliy minister of Jesus Christ, John Preston, Dr in Divinity, cliaplain in ordinary to his Majesty, Master of Emmanuel College in Cambridge, and sometimes Preacher of Lincoln's Inn. Tlio fourth edition. ' But let us who are of the day bo sober, putting on the breastplate of faitli and love,' 1 Thess. v. 8. ' What will it profit, my bretliren, if a man say he have faith, and hath not works? Can faith save him?' James ii. 14. Lnprinted at London by R. Y. for Nicholas Bourne and are to be sold at the soutli entrance of the Eoyal Exchange. 1G34. t Qu. ' quondam ?' — Ed. MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. XCVH when he should be resolute in a good cause. A t}7)e whereof were the Israelites, whose servitude was redoubled when they turned themselves to forsake Egypt. Wherefore we have much need of Christian fortitude, according to that direction, ' Watch ye, stand fast, quit yourselves like men,' 1 Cor. xvi. 13 ; especially since Satan, Uke a serpentine crocodile pursued, is by resistance put to flight. But as in wars (which the Philistines knew well in putting their hope in Goliath) the chief strength of the soldiers lieth in their captain, so in spiri- tual conflicts all a Christian's strength is in Christ, and from him. For before our conversion we were of no strength ; since our conversion we are not sufficient of ourselves to think a good thought. And to work out from the saints all self-confidence, God, by their falls, teacheth them ' to rejoice in the Lord Jesus, and to have no confidence in the flesh.' "Whatsoever Christ hath for us, is made ours by faith, which is the hand of the soul enriching it by receiving Christ, who is the treasm'e hid in the field, and with him, those unsearchable riches of gi'ace, which are revealed and offered in the gospel ; yea, it is part of our spiritual aiTuour. That which was fabulously spoken of the race of giants is truly said of a Chris- tian, he is born with his armour upon him ; as soon as he is regenerate he is armed. It is called a breastplate, ©wea^, 1 Thess. v. 8, because it preserves the heart; a long, large shield, Qupsog of dv^a, Eph. vi. IG (as the word signifieth), which is useful to defend the whole man from all sorts of assaults. ^Vhich part of spiritual armour, and how it is to be managed, is declared in the former part of the ensuing treatise, in ten sermons. Now, as all rivers return into the sea whence they came, so the believ- ing soul, having received all from Christ, returneth all to Christ. For thus the believer reasoneth. Was God's undeserved, unexpected love such to me that he spared not his only-begotten Son, but gave him to die for me ? It is but equal that I should live to him, die for him, bring in my strength, time, gifts, liberty, all that I have, all that I am, in his service, to his glory. That aflection, whence these resolutions arise, is called love, which so inclineth the soul that it moveth in a dnect line towards that ob- ject wherein it expecteth contentment. The soul is miserably deluded in pursuing the wind, and is taking aim at a fl\"ing fowl, whilst it seeks hap- piness in any creature ; which appears in the restlessness of those u'regular agitations and endless motions of minds of ambitious, voluptuous, and covetous persons, whose fi-ame of spirit is like the lower part of the elementary region, the seat of winds, tempests, and earthquakes, full of unquietness ; whilst the believer's soul, like that part towards heaven which is always peaceable and still, enjoyeth true rest and joy. And in- deed the perfection of our spirits cannot be but in luiion with the chief of spirits, which communicateth his goodness to the creatm-e according to its capacity. This aflection of love, as it reflecteth upon Christ, being a fi'uit and efiect of his love to us apprehended by faith, is the subject of the second part of the following treatise, in seven sermons. The judicious author, out of a piercing insight into the methods of the tempter, knowing upon what rocks the faith of many sufiers shipwi-eck ; that neither the weak Christian might lose the comfort of his faith through want of evidences, nor the presumptuous rest upon a fancy instead of faith, nor the adversaries be emboldened to cast upon us, by reason of this doc- trine of justification by faith only, their wonted nicknames of Sohfidians and Nullifidians ; throughout the whole treatise, and more especially in the last sermon, he discom'seth of good works as they arise from faith and XCVUl MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. love. This is the sum of the faithful and fruitful labours of this reverend, learned, and godly minister of the gospel, who, whilst he lived, was an ex- ample of the life of faith and love, and of good works, to so many as were acquainted with his equal and even walking in the ways of God, in the several turnings and occasions of his life. But it will be too much injury to the godly reader to be detained longer in the porch, We now dismiss thee to the reading of this profitable work, beseeching God to increase faith, and to perfect love in thy heart, that thou mayest be fruitful in good •works. Thina in our Lord Jesus Christ, Richard Sibbs. John Davenport. in. The Saint's Daily Exercise. * To the Reader. Courteous Reader, — To discoui'se largely of the necessity and use of this piece of spiritual armour, after so many learned and useful treatises upon this subject, may seem superfluous, especially considering that there is much spoken to this purpose, for thy satisfaction, in the ensuing treatise, wherein, besides the unfolding of the nature of this duty (which is the saint's daily exercise), and strong enforcement to it, there is an endeavour to give satisfaction in the most incident cases, want of clearing whereof is usually an hindi'ance to the cheerful and ready performance thereof. In all which, what hath been done by this reverend and worthy man we had rather should appear in the treatise itself, to thy indifterent judgment, than to be much in setting down our own opinion. This we doubt not of, that, by reason of the spiritual and con^'incing manner of handling this argument, it will win acceptance with many, especially considering that it is of that nature wherein, though much have been spoken, yet much more may be said with good relish to those that have any spiritual sense ; for it is the most spiritual action, wherein we have nearer communion with God, than in any other holy performance, and wherebj'^ it pleaseth God to convey aU good to us, to the performance whereof Christians find most backwardness and indisposedness, and from thence most dejection of spirit, which also in these times is most necessary, wherein, unless we fetch help from heaven this way, we see the church and cause of God hke to be trampled under feet. Only remember, that we let these sermons pass forth as they were delivered by himself in public, without taldng that liberty of adding or de- tracting, which perhaps some would have thought meet ; for we thought it best that his own meaning should be expressed in his own words and manner, especially considering there is little which perhaps may seem super- fluous to some, but may, by God's blessing, be useful to others. It would be a good prevention of many inconveniences in this kind, if able men would be persuaded to publish their own works in their lifetime ; yet we think it a good service to the church when that defect is supplied by giving * The Saijit's Daily Exercise ; a Treatise Tinfolding the whole Duty of Prayer. Delivered in five sermons upon 1 Thes. v. 17. By the late faithful and worthy minister of Jesus Christ, John Preston, Dr in Divinity, Chaplain in Ordinary to his Majesty, Master of Emmanuel College in Cambridge, and sometime Preacher of Lincoln's Inn. The fourtii edition, corrected. ' The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much,' James v. 16. 'If I regard iniquity in my lieart, the Lord will not hear my prayer,' Ps. Ixvi. 18. London : Printed by W. I. for Nicholas Bourne, and are to bo sold at the south entrance of the Koyal Exchange. 1630. 4to. MEMOIR OF RICHAED SIBBES, D.D. XCIX some life to those things, which otherwise would have died of themselves. The blessing of these labours of his we commend unto God, and the benefit of them unto thee, resting thine in our Lord Jesus Christ, Richard Sibs. John Davenport. rV". The Saints' Qualification. * Dedication. Illustrissimo, Nobilissimo Viro, PhiHppo, Pembrochiae, et Montis Gomerici Comiti, Baroni Herbert* de CardilTs et Sherland, Ordinis Gar- terii Equiti, Regiae Domus Camerario, Eegite Majestati a Secretioribus Consiliis, &c., triplicem hunc Johannis Prestoni, S.S., Theologise Doct. CoUeg. Immanuelis Nuper Magist. et Regiae Majest. a Sacris, Tractatum, de Humiliatione, Nova Creatura, Pr^paratione ad Sacram Sjnaxin, in Devotissimae, Tarn authoris, quam Ipsorum, Observantiae Testimonium, L.M.D.D.D. RiCHARDUS SiBS. Joannes Davenport. To the Christian Header. The good acceptance the sermons of this worthy man have found amongst well-disposed Christians, hath made us the willinger to give way to the publishing of these, as coming fi-om the same author. The good they may thus do prevails more for the sending of them forth than some imperfec- tions (that usually accompany the taking of other men's speeches) may do to suppress them. Something may well be yielded to public good in things not altogether so as we wish. They are enforced upon none that shall except against them, they may either read or refuse them at theii" pleasure. The argument of them is such as may di'aw the more regard, being of matters of necessary and pei-petual use. For ' Humiliation ' we never so deeply see into the grounds of it (sinful- ness of natm'e and life) ; or, so far as we see, look upon it with that e3-e of detestation we should ; and therefore a holy heart desireth still farther light to be brought in, to discover whatsoever may hinder communion with God, and is glad when sin is made loathsome unto it, as being its greatest enemy, that doth more hurt than all the world besides, and the only thing that divides between our chief good and us. As this humilia- tion increaseth, so in the like proportion all other gi'aces increase ; for the more we are emptied of ourselves, the more we are filled with the fulness of God. The defects of this appear in the whole frame of a Christian Ufe, * The Saints' Qualification : or, a treatise — 1, of humiliation, in ten sermons ; 2, of sanctification, in nine sermons ; -whereunto is added a treatise of communion with Christ in the sacrament, in three sermons. Preached by the late faithful and worthy minister of Jesus Christ, John Preston, Doctor in Divinity, chaplain in ordinary to his majesty, master of Emmanuel College in Cambridge, and sometime preacher of Lincoln's Inn. The third edition, corrected. ' When men are cast down, then thou shalt say, There is lifting up : and he shall save the humble person,' Job xxii. 29. ' Cast away from you all your transgressions, whereby ye have transgressed, and make you a new heart, and a new spirit,' &c., Ezek. xviii. 31. ' He that eats my flesh and drinks my blood, dwelleth in me and I in him,' John vi. 56. Loudon ; Printed by R. B. for N. Bourne, and are to be sold by T. Nicholea at the Bible in Pope's -head Alley. 1637. 4to. VOL. I. g C MEMOIR OP RICHAKD SIBBES, D.D. whicli is so far unsound as we retain anything of corrupted self, unhumbled for. The foundation of Christianity is laid very low ; and therefore the trea- tise of ' Humiliation ' is well premised before that of the * New Creature.' God will build upon nothing in us. We must be nothing in ourselves before we be raised up for a fit temple for God to dwell in, whose course is to pull down before he build. Old things must be out of request before all become new ; and without this newness of the whole man from union with Christ, no interest in the new heavens can be hoped for, whereinto no defiled thing shall enter, as altogether unsuitable to that condition and place. Nothing is in request with God but this new creature, all things else are adjudged to the fire ; and without this it had been better be no creature at all. By this we may judge of the usefulness of discourses tending this way. One thing more thou art to be advertised of (courteous reader), and that is, of the injurious dealing of such as for private gain have published what they can get, howsoever taken, without any acquaint- ing either of those friends of the author's that resided in Cambridge (to whose care he left the publishing of those things that were delivered there) or of us, to whom he committed the publishing of what should be thought fit for public view of that which was preached in London. Hereby not only wrong is done to others, but to the deceased likewise, by mangUng and misshaping the birth of his brain ; and therefore once again we desire men to forbear publishing of anything until those that were entrusted have the review. And so we commit the treatise and thee to God's blessing. RlCHAUD SiBS. John Davenport. In 1 682, Sibbes introduced to the world the excellent folio of John Smith on ' The Creed,' * and the well-known and still vital treatise of John Ball on ' Faith.' -f* John Smith was 'preacher of the word at Clavering in Essex.' He succeeded Bishop Andrewes as lecturer in St Paul's Cathedral. Anthony Wood speaks of him as being skilled in the original languages, and well acquainted with the writings of the ablest divines. He died in November 161 6. J * An Exposition of the Creed ; or, an Explanation of the Articles of our Christian Faith. Delivered in many afternoon sermons, by that reverend and worthy divine, Master John Smith, late preacher of the Word at Clavering in Essex, and sometime Fellow of St John's College, in Oxford. Now published for the benefit and behoof of all good Christians, together with an exact table of all the chiefest doctrines and uses througliout the wbole book. ' Uprightness hatli boldness.' Heb. xi. 6, ' But without faith it is impossible to please him : for he that cometh unto God must be- heve that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.' At London : Imprinted by Felix Kyngston, for Robert Allot, and are to be sold at his shop, at the sign of the Black Bear, in Paiil's Churchyard. 1632. t A Treatise of Faith. Divided into Two Parts, the first shewing the Nature, the second the Life of Faith, both tending to direct the weak Christian how he may pos- Bess the whole word of God as his own, overcome temptations, better his obedience, and live comfortably in all estates. By John Ball. Hab. ii. 4, ' The just shall live by his faith.' The third edition, corrected and enlarged. London : Printed by Robert Young, for Edward Brewster, and are to be sold at his shop, at the sign of the Bible, upon Fleet Bridge. 1637. 4to. J Wood's Athenae (od. by Bliss), ii. 188. And see Chalmers's Biog. Diet., sub. voce MEMOIR OF EICHAED SIBBES, D.D. 'Cl So far as I have been able to read his folio, I must regard Sibbes's "Introduction as its most valuable feature. Pearson, indeed, over- .shadows all such works. John Ball has been very lovingly written of by very many. Wood and Clarke, Thomas Fuller, and Eichard Baxter, and Simeon Ash join in speaking ' well ' of him. His books, larger and smaller, are worthy of a place beside those of Sibbes. His ' Power of Godliness ' (1657), a thin folio, is marked by extraordinary acquaintance with the workings of the human heart. There are touches of weird subtlety, and one in reading can easily understand the stillness of his auditory. His treatise on ' Faith ' is rich and practical.* With these few words, let us turn to the two ' epistU «« : ' — ■ I. Smith on the Creed. To the Christian Reader. It is available, for the better entertainment of this work, to know some- thing concerning the author, concerning the work itself, and concerning the argument ; for the author, my acquaintance with him was especially towards the declining part of his years, at what time (as they speak of the sun towards setting) the light and influence which comes from worthy men is most mild and comfortable. The gifts of men then, perhaps, are not so flourishing as in their younger time, but yet more mature, and what cometh from them is better digested. In the prime of his years he was trained up in St John's CoUege, in Oxford, being there Fellow of the House, and for piety and parts esteemed highly in the University of those that excelled in both. Afterwards he grew to that note that he was chosen to read the lectm'e in Paul's, succeeding therein that great, learned man, Doctor Andrewes, late Lord Bishop of Winchester, which he discharged not only to the satisfac- tion, but to the applause of the most judicious and learned hearers, wit- nessed by their frequency and attention. Not long after he w\as removed to a pastoral charge in Clavering, in Essex, where being fixed till his death, he shined as a star in his proper sphere. This good man's aim was to convey himself by all manner of ways into the heart, which made him willingly heard of all sorts ; for witty things only, as they are spoken to the brain, so they rest in the brain, and sink no deeper ; but the heart (which vain and obnoxious men love not to be touched), that is the mark a faithful teacher aims to hit. But because the way to come to the heart is often to pass through the fancy, therefore this godly man studied by lively representations to help men's faith by the fancy. It was our Saviour Christ's manner of teaching to express heavenly things in an earthly manner ; and it was the study of the wise man, Solo- mon, becoming a preacher, to find out pleasant words, or words of delight, Eccles. xii. 10. But when all pains are taken by the man of God, people will rehsh what is spoken according as their taste is. It falleth out here as it doth in a garden, wherein some walk for present delight, some carry flowers away with them to refresh them for a time ; some, as bees, gather honey, which they feed on long afterwards ; some, spider-Uko, come to suck that which may feed that malignant and venomous disposition that they bring with them. There cannot be a better character of a man than * Consult Brook, ' Lives of the Puritans,' ii. 440, sej. Cll MEMOm OF EICHAKD SIBBES, D.D. to observe what he relisheth most in hearing ; for as men are, so they taste, so they judge, so they speak. Ezekiel, besides prophetical gifts fit for so high a calling, had no doubt a delightfiil manner of expression of him- self, whereupon the wickeder sort of Jews, engaged in sinful courses, came to hear him but as a musician to please their ears, neglecting the authority of his person and the weight of his message, Ezek. xxxiii. 32. It is no wonder, therefore, if in these days people stick in the bark and neglect the pith ; though sometimes it falleth out with some, as with Augustine hear- ing Ambrose, whilst they bite at the bait of some pleasing notions, they are, at the same time, catched with the Spirit's hook. He was skilful in the original languages, and thereupon an excellent textman, well read in wi'iters that were of note in the several ages of the church, which m.ade him a well furnished and able divine. His judgment was clear and his conscience tender, and, which helped him most, he brought to the great work of the ministry an holy and gracious heart, which raised and carried him to aims above himself and the world. In his con- versing he was modest, fruitful, wise, and winning ; in his expressions witty and graceful, insomuch that he hath left a fresh and sweet remembrance of them to this day. Towards his end he grew more spiritual, setting light by all things here below, and only waited (as his expression was) for the coming of the Comforter ; at length, his work being finished, breathing out his life with that wish of the spouse, ' Yea, come. Lord Jesus,' Rev. xxii. 20. Thus much I thought not unfit to be made known of the man. Now, for the work itself, it must be considered by the learned reader that these things were spoken, though to a people high-raised in knowledge, and more refined than ordinary by his teaching, yet to the people, not with a purpose that they should come to the view and censure of the learned. But though they were delivered to the people, yet are they not so popular, but (if my love to the man and the work deceive me not) they will leave the best reader either more learned or more holy, or both. It must, there- fore, be remembered, for the more favourable acceptation of this work, that these sermons were taken by one of his parish, a man, though pious and of good parts, yet not skilful in the learned languages ; and therefore it must needs be that many apt and acute sentences of the fathers, by which this learned man did use to beautify and strengthen -the points he delivered, are fallen to the ground and lost, for lack of skill to take up. But howso- ever much of the spirits be lost, yet here you have the corpse and bulk of the discourse, and not without some life and vigour, wherein this is peculiar in his manner of handling, that he hath chosen fit texts of Scripture to ground his expositioii of every article upon. Now, for the argument itself, the Creed, I think it fit to premise some- thing, because it hath been omitted by the author, or at least not gathered with the rest. The Creed is of middle authority, between divine and human, and called the Apostles' Creed, not only for consanguinity with the apostles' doctrine, but because it is taken out of the apostles' writings, and therefore of greatest authority next to the Scriptures. It is nothing else but a summary comprehension of the counsel and work of God concerning our supernatural condition here and hereafter. The doctrine of salvation is spread through the Scriptures as spirits in the arteries and blood in the veins, as the soul in the body. And here, for easier carriage, the most necessary points are gathered together, as so many pearls or precious Btones, that we might have a ready use of them upon all occasions, being, as it were, a little Bible or Testament that Christians of all ranks, as suited MEMOIR OF EICHARD SIBBES, D.D. Clll for all conditions, may bear about with them everywhere without any trouble. In every article there is both a shallow and a depth, milk for babes and meat for strong men. Though there be no gi'owth in regard of fundamental principles (which have been alike in all ages of the church), yet there hath and will be a proficiency in regard of conclusions drawn out of those principles. The necessities of every Christian, and the springing up of unsound opinions in the church, will continually enforce diligence and care in the further explication and application of these fundamental truths. It will not, therefore, be amiss to set down a few directions for the more clear understanding of the Creed, and for the better making use of it. And first, for the understanding of it, it hath the name of Creed or Belief, from the act exercised about it, to shew that it doth not only contain doctrine to be believed, but that that doctrine will do us no good unless, by mingling it with our faith, we make it our belief. Therefore, both the act and the object are implied in one word. Belief. Secondly : From the execution in crea- tion and incarnation we must arise to God's decree ; nothing done in time which was not decreed before all times, ' Known unto the Lord are all his works from the beginning of the world,' Acts xv. 18. Thirdly: We must arise from one principal benefit to all that follow and accompany it, as in forgiveness of sins, follow righteousness, peace, and joy, the spirit of sanctification, Christian liberty, &c. Though the articles be nakedly pro pounded, yet are we to believe all the fruits and privileges. So to God's creating of heaven and earth we must join his providence in upholding and ruling all things in both. Fourthly : In the consequent we are to under- stand all that went before by way of cause or preparation, as in the crucify- ing of Christ, his preceding agony and the cause of it, our sins, and the love of God and Christ in those suff'erings, &c. Fifthly: Though we are to believe circumstances as well as the thing itself, yet not with the same necessity of faith, as it is more necessary to believe that Christ was cruci- fied than that it was under Pontius Pilate ; though when any circumstance is revealed we ought to believe it, and to have a preparation of mind to believe whatsoever shall be revealed. Yet in the main points this preparation of mind is not sufiicient, but there must be a present and an expressed faith. We must know that, as in the law, he that breaketh one commandment breaketh all, because all come from the same authority ; so, in the grounds of faith, he that denies one in the true sense of it denies all, for both law and faith are copulatives. The singling out of anything is contrary to the obedience of faith. Fides non elifjit objectiini. For particular and daily use, we must know, first, that every article re- quires a particular faith, not only in regard of the person believing, but likewise in regard of the application of the article believed ; or else the devil might say the creed, for he believes there is a Creator, and that there is a remission of sins, &c. ; but because he hath no share in it, it enrageth him the more. Om- adversaries are great enemies to particular faith, and think we coin a thirteenth article when we enforce particular assm-ance, because, say they, particular men are not named in the Scripture, and what is not in Scripture cannot be a matter of faith. But there is a double faith, a faith which is the doctrine we do believe, and faith which is the grace whereby we believe ; and this faith is a matter of experience wrought in our hearts by the Spirit of God. It is sufiicient that that faith which we do .believe is contained in the Scriptures. Now whereas they object that we make it a thirteenth article, their fourteenth apostle adds to these twelve many more articles of faith, which he enforceth to be beUeved, with CIV MEMOIR OF EICHAED SIBBES, D.D. the same necessity of faith as these twelve ; neither hath he only entered upon Christ's prerogative in minting new articles of faith, but likewise they have usurped over all Christian churches by adding Roman to the catholio church in the creed. A bold imposture ! But for special faith, the main office of the Holy Spirit is in opening general truths, to reveal our particular interest in those truths, and to breed special faith whereby we make them our own, because the Spirit of God reveals the mind of God to every particular Chiistian, 1 Cor. ii. 11, 12 ; for as the things believed are truths above natm'e, so the grace of faith whereby we believe is a grace above nature, created as a supernatural eye in the soul, to see supernatural truths. Secondly, Where sacred truths are truly apprehended, there the Spirit works an impression in the soul suitable to the things believed ; every article hath a power in it which the Spirit doth imprint upon the soul. The belief of God to be the Father Almighty breeds an impression of de- pendence, reverence, and comfort. The belief and knowledge of Chi'ist cru- cified is a crucifying knowledge. The true knowledge and faith in Chi'ist rising, is a raising knowledge. The knowledge of the abasement of Christ is an abasing knowledge ; because faith sees itself one with Chi'ist in both states. We cannot truly believe what Christ hath wrought for us, but at the same time the Spirit of Christ worketh something in us. Thirdly, It is convenient for the giving of due honour to every person to consider of the work appropriated to every one : all come fi'om the Father ; all are exactly performed by the Son in our natm'e for the redemption of those that the Father hath given him. The gathering out of the world of that blessed society (which we call the church) into an holy communion, and the sanctifying of it, and sealing unto it all the privileges believed, as forgiveness of sins, resurrection of the body, and life everlasting, &c., proceed from the Holy Ghost. Fom'thly, It has pleased the great God to enter into a treaty and cove- nant of agreement with us his poor creatures, the articles of which agree- ment are here comprised. God, for his part, undertakes to convey all that concerns our happiness, upon our receiving of them, by believing on him. Evei-y one in particular that recites these articles from a spirit of faith makes good this condition, and this is that answer of a good conscience, which Peter speaks of, 1 Pet. iii, whereby being demanded what our faith is, every one in particular answers to every article, I beUeve ; I not only understand and conceive it, but assent unto it in my judgment as true, and consent to it in my will as good, and build my comfort upon it as good to me : this act of belief carries the whole soul with it. Fifthly, Though it is we that answer, yet the power by which we answer is no less than that whereby God created the world and raised Christ from the dead. The answer is ours, but the power and strength is God's, whereby we answer, who performs both his part and om-s too in the cove- nant. It is a higher matter to believe than the common sort think it. For this answer of faith to these truths, as it is caused by the power of God's Spirit, so is it powerful to answer all temptations of Satan, all seducements of the world, all terrors of conscience from the wrath of God and the curse of the law ; it setteth the soul as upon a rock above all. Sixthly, These articles are a touchstone at hand to try all opinions by, for crooked things are discerned by bringing them to the rule. What directly, or by immediate and mere consequence, opposeth these, is to be rejected as contrary to the platform of wholesome doctrine. That oiw MEMOIK OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. CV monster of opinions, of the bread into the body of Christ by transubstan- tiation, overthrows at once four articles of the Creed — the incarnation of Christ, ascension, sitting at the right hand of God, and coming to judgment; for if Christ's body be so often made of a piece of bread, being in so many phices at once here upon earth, how can all these articles be true ? Again, seventhly, These grounds of fixith have likewise a special influence in dii'ection and encouragement unto all Christian duties. A holy life is but the infusion of holy truths. AugiTstine saith well, Non bene vivitur, tibi bene de Deo non credit ur : men of an ill belief, cannot be of a good life ; whereupon the apostles' method is, to build their exhortations to Christian duties upon the grounds of Christian faith. But we must remember, that as faith yields a good life and conscience, so a conscience is the vessel to preserve the doctrine of faith, else a shipwreck of faith will follow. If there be a delighting in unrighteousness, there will not be a love of the truth ; and if we love not the truth, then there will be a preparedness to believe any lie, and that by God's just judgment, 2 Thes. ii. 12. Eighthly. As these fundamental truths yield strength to the whole fi'ame of a Christian life, so they are so many springs and wells of consolation for God's people to draw from ; whereupon that good Prince George Anhalt (who in Luther's time became a preacher of the gospel), intending to com- fort his brother Prince John, raiseth his comfort from the last three articles — remission of sins, resurrection of the body, and life everlasting ; which, as they have their strength from the former articles, are able to raise any drooping spirit, and therefore in the greatest agonies it is the readiest way to suck comfort fi'om these benefits. But I omit other things, intending only to say something by way of preface. And thus, good reader, I com- mend this work unto thee, and both it and thee to God's blessing. Thine in the Lord, K. Sibbes. II. Ball on ' Faith.' The Preface to the Reader. Glorious things are spoken of the grace of graces (faith) in the Scrip- tures, God setting himself to honour that grace that yields up all the hon- our- unto him in Christ : who indeed is the life of our life, and the soul of our soul. Faith only as the bond of union bringeth Christ and the soul together, and is as an artery that conveys the spirit fi'om him as the heart, and as the sinews which convey the spirit to move all duty from him as head, whence St Paul maketh Christ's living in us, and our living by faith all one. Gal. ii. 20. Now that which giveth boldness and liberty to faith, is not only God's assignment of this office to it in the covenant of gi-ace to come unto Christ, and unto him in Christ, to receive grace, but likewise the gi'acious promises whereby the great God hath engaged himself as a debtor to his poor creature, for all things needful to life and godliness, until that blessed time when we shall be put into a full possession of all things we have now only in promise, when faith shall end in fi-uition, and pro- mises in performances. Faith first looks to this word of promise, and in the promise to Christ, in whom and for whom they are yea and amen, both made and perfonned. And in Christ it eyeth God in whom it last resteth, as its proper centre and foundation ; otherwise how should we weak sinful creatures dare to have any intercourse with God that dwelleth in that light that none can attain unto, if he had not come forth and discovered his good pleasure in Christ the substantial Word, and in the word inspired by the Holy Ghost for the good CVl ^MEMOrR OP KICHAED SIBBES, D.D. of those whom Grod meant for to make heirs of salvation ? Now these pro- mises whereon all our present comfort and future hope dependeth lie hid in the Scriptures, as veins of gold and silver in the bowels of the earth, and had need be laid open, that God's people may know what upon good grounds to lay claim imto. Those, therefore, that search these mines to bring to light these treasures, deserve well of God's church. We commend (and not without cause) the witty industry of those that from springs remote bring rivers to cities, and by pipes from these rivers derive water to every man's house for all domestical services ; much more should we esteem of the religious pains of men that brings these waters of life home for every man's particular use, in all the passages and turnings of this life. In which regard, I do not doubt, but the pains of this godly, painful, and learned man will find good entertainment of all children of the pro- mises that hope to inherit them, who hath with great pains, and with good evidence of spiritual understanding, endeavoured to clear most matters con- cerning faith, and likewise discovered the variety and use of the promises, with teaching Christians how to improve their riches in Christ here spread before them, how to use the shield of faith and the sword of the Spirit upon all occasions, that so they might not only be believing but skilful Christians, knowing how to manage and make the best advantage of their faith and the word of faith. Which if they could do, there would another manner of power and beauty shine in their lives than doth. He is a man that hath formerly deserved well of the church, but in more special manner fitted for a treatise of this nature, as having been put to it to know by experience what it is to live by faith, having in sight for matters of this life very little whereupon to depend. Those that are driven to exercise their faith cannot but find God faithful, as never failing those that trust in him, they see more of God than others do. If it be objected that others of late time have digged in the same mine and laljoured in the same field, and to good purpose and success, I answer, it is true, the more this age is bound to God that directs the spirits of men to so useful, so necessary, an argument, seeing without faith we have no communion with the fountain of life, nothing in this world that can yield settled comfort to ground the soul upon, seeing without it the fairest car- riage is but empty and dead morality, neither finding acceptance with God nor yielding comfort to us in our greatest extremities, and by it God him- self and Christ, with all that he hath done, sufiered, conquered, becometh ours and for our use. Besides, none that I know have written in our lan- guage so largely of this argument ; and such is the extent and spiritualness of this heavenly point, that many men and of the gi'eatest graces and parts, may with great benefit to the church dive and dig still into this mystery. Neither let any except against the multitude of quotations of Scriptures ; they are brought under their proper head, and set in their proper place, and the matter itself is cut out into variety of parts. Store (as we used to speak) is no sore, we count it a delight to take out of a full heap ; the more light the conviction is the stronger ; what suits not at one time will suit our spirits and occasions at another, and what taketh not with one may take with another. But the full and well handling of matters in this treatise carries such satisfaction with it, that it frees me from necessity of further discourse, and mine own present weakness of body taketh me off. Only I was willing to yield that testimony to the fruitful pains of a faithful labourer in God's vineyard, and I judge it deserved. Beceive it, therefore. Chris- tian reader, with thanks to God that stirreth up such helpers of that faith MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. CVU by ■which we live, stand, conquer, and in which we must die, if we look to receive the end of our faith, the salvation of our souls. Richard Sibbes. The last epistle known to me is prefixed to a very striking and suggestive book, to wit, Richard Capel's ' Treatise of Tempta- tions.' * Nearly related to the noble family of Capel, he was yet a staunch Puritan and 'Nonconformist:' his son Daniel having also been one of the ' ejected ' of 1662. He was very much esteemed by Sibbes, who left to him a memorial 'ring' in his wilLt The book itself is well fitted to comfort the despondent, and may be placed beside Brook's 'Precious Remedies for Satan's Devices,' which it somewhat resembles, though wanting in the wonderful learning and ingenuity of illustration of that most learned and vivid of the later Puritans. The ' epistle ' follows : — To the Christian Fieader. After the angels left their own standing, they envied ours, and out of envy became both by office and practice tempters, that they might draw man from that happy commimion with God, unto that cui'sed condition with themselves. And success in this trade hath made them both skilful and dihgent, especially now, their time being but short. And if neither the first or second Adam could be free fi-om their impudent assaults, who then may look for exemption ? The best must most of all look to be set upon as ha\ang most of Chi-ist in them, whom Satan hates most, and as hoping and disheartening of them, to foil others, as gi'eat trees fall not alone ; no age or rank of Christians can be free. Beginners he labours to discourage ; those that have made some progress, he raiseth stoiTQS against ; those that more perfect he labours to undermine by spiritual pride ; and above aU other times, he is most busy when we are weakest, then he doubles and multi- plies his forces, when he looks either to have all, or lose all. His course is either to tempt to sin or for sin. To sin, by presenting some seeming good to draw us fi-om the true good, to seek some excellency besides God in the creature, and to this end he labours in the first place to shake our faith in the word ; thus he dealt with Adam, and thus he dealeth with all his posterity. And besides immediate suggestions, he cometh unto us, by our dearest friends, as unto Christ by Peter ; so many tempters, so many deAdls in that iU office, though neither they or we are oft aware of it ; the * Tentations : their nature, danger, cure. By Eichard Capel, sometime Fellow of Magdalen College in Oxford. The sixth edition. The fourth part left enlarged hy the author, and now there is added his remains to the work of Tentations. To which thou hast prefixed an abridgment of the author's life, by Valentine Marshall, of Elmore, in Gloucestershire. 1 Cor. x. 13, There hath no tentation taken you, but such as is common to man : but God is faithful, who will not suifer you to be tempted above that yoii are able ; but will with the tentation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it. London : Printed by Tho. RatclifiFe, for John Bartlet, long since living in the Goldsmith's Eow in Cheapside, at the Gilt Cup ; since at St Austine's Gate ; now in the New buildings on the south side of Paul's near St Austine's Gate, at the sign of the Gilt Cup, and at the Gilt Cup in West- minster Hall, over against the Upper Bench. 1659. t Consult Brook, supra, iii. 289 seq. CYin MEMOIR OF RICHAED SIBBES, D.D. nearest friend of all our own flesh, is the most dangerous traitor, and there- fore most dangerous because most near, more near to us than the devil himself, with which, if he had no intelligence, all his plots would come to nothing ; this holding correspondence with him, layeth us open to all danger ; it is this inward bosom enemy that doth us most mischief. When Phocas (hke another Zimrj) had killed his master, Mam-icius the emperor, he laboured like Cain, to secure himself with building high walls, after which he heard a voice telling him, that though he built his walls never so high, yet sin within the walls would undermine all. It is true of every particular man, that if there were no tempter without, he would be a tempter to him- self ; it is this lust within us that hath brought us an ill report upon the creature. This is that which makes blessings to be snares unto us ; all the corruption which is in the world is by lust, which lieth in our bosom, 2 Pet. i. 4, and as Ahithophel, or Judas, by familiarity betrayeth us, yea, oftentimes in our best afiections, and actions, nature will mingle without * zeal, and privy pride will creep in, and taint our best performances with some corrupt aim. Hence it is, that our life is a continual combat. A Chi-istian, so soon as new bom, is born a soldier, and so continueth until his crown be put upon him ; in the mean time our comfort is, that ere long, we shall be out of the reach of all tentation ; ' the God of peace will tread down Satan under our feet,' Rom. xvi. 20. A carnal man's life is nothing but a strengthening and feeding of his enemy, a fighting for that which fighteth against his soul. Since Satan hath cast this seed of the serpent into our souls, there is no sin so prodigious, but some seed of it Im'keth in our natm-e ; it should humble us to hear what sins are forbidden by Moses, which if the Holy Ghost had not mentioned, we might have been ashamed to hear of, they are so dishonourable to our nature ; the very- hearing of the monstrous outrages committed by men, given up of God, as it yields matter of thanks to God for preservation of us, so of humility, to see our common nature so abused, and so abased by sin and Satan. Nay, so catching is our nature of sin, that the mention of it, instead of stiri'ing hatred of it, often kindles fancy to a liking of it ; the discovery of devilish policies and stratagems of wit, though in some respects to good purpose, yet hath no better effect in some, than to fashion their wits to the like false practices ; and the innocency of many ariseth not from the love of that which is good, but from not knowing of that which is evil. And in nothing the sinfulness of sin appears more than in this, that it hindereth all it can, the knowledge of itself, and if it once be known, it studieth extenuation, and translation upon others ; sin and shifting came into the world together ; in St James his time, it seems that there were some that were not afraid to father their temptations to sin, upon him that hateth it most (God himself), whereas God is only said to try, not to tempt. Our adversaries are not far from imputing this to God, who maintain concupiscence, the mother of all abominations, to be a condition of nature as first created, only kept in by the bridle of original righteousness, that from hence, they might the better maintain those proud opinions of perfect fulfilling the law, and meriting thereby. This moved St James to set down the true descent and pedigree of sin ; we ourselves are both the temptei-g and the tempted ; as tempted we might deserve some pity, if as tempters we deserve not blame. In us there is both fii-e and matter for fire to take hold on. Satan needs but to blow, and oftentimes not that neither ; for many, if concupiscence stir not up them, they will stir up concupiscence. So long * Qu. ' with our ?' — Ed. MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D,D. CIX as the soul keeps close to God and his truth, it is safe ; so long as our way lieth above, we are free from the snares below. All the danger first riseth from letting our hearts loose from God by infideUty, for then presently our heart is dra-mi away by some seeming good, whereby we seek a severed ex- cellency and contentment out of God, in whom it is only to be had. After we have once forsaken God, God forsakes us, leaving us in some degree to ourselves, the worst guides that can be ; and thereupon, Satan joins forces with us, setting upon us as a friend, vmder our ovnx colours ; he cannot but miscarry that hath a pirate for his guide. This God suftereth to make us better known to om-selves ; for by this means, corraption that lay hid before, is drawn out, and the deceitfulness of sin the better known, and so we are put upon the daily practice of repentance and mortification, and driven to fly under the wings of Jesus Christ. Were it not for temptations, we should be concealed from ourselves ; our graces as unexercised, would not be so bright, the power of God should not appear ; so in our weakness, we would not be so pitiful and tender towards others, nor so jealous over our own hearts, nor so skilful of Satan's method and enterprises, we should not see such a necessity of standing always upon our guard ; but though, by the overruling power of God, they have this good issue, yet that which is ill of itself, is not to be ventured on, for the good that cometh by acci- dent. The chief thing wherein one Christian diflers from another is watch- fulness, which though it require most labour, yet it bringeth most safety ; and the best is no farther safe, than watchful, and not only against sins, but tentations, which are the seeds of sin, and occasions which let in ten- tations. The best, by rash adventures upon occasion, have been led into temptations, and by temptation into the sin itself; whence sin and temp- tation come both under the same name, to shew us that we can be no further secm-e from sin, than we be careful to shun temptations. And in this every one should labour so well to understand themselves, as to know what they find a temptation to them. That may be a temptation to one which is not to another ; Abraham might look upon the smoke of Sodom, though Lot might not ; because that sight would work more upon Lot's heart than Abraham's. In these cases a wise Christian better knows what to do with himself than any can prescribe him. And because God hath our hearts in his hand, and can either suspend or give way to temptations, it should move us especially to take heed of those sins, whereby, gi'ieving the good Spirit of God, we give him cause to leave us to our own spirits ; but that he may rather stir up contrary gracious lustings in us, as a con- trary principle. There is nothing of greater force to make us out of godly jealousy ' to fear always.' Thus daily * working out om- salvation,' that God may delight to go along with us, and be om- shield, and not to leave us naked in the hands of Satan, but second his first grace Avith a farther degree, as temptations shall increase. It is he that either removeth occa- sions, or shutteth our hearts against them, and giveth strength to prevail over them ; which gracious promise you cannot be too thankful for. It is a great mercy when temptations are not above the supply of strength against them. This care only taketh up the heart of those who, having the life of ■Christ begun in them, and his nature stamped upon them, have felt how sweet communion and acquaintance with God in Chi-ist, and how comfort- able the daily walking with God, is ; these are weary of anything that may draw away their hearts from God, and hinder their peace. And therefore they hate temptations to sin as sin itself, and sin as hell itself, and heU most of aU, as being a state of eternal separation from all comfortable ex MEMOIR OF EICHARD SIBBES, D.D. fellowship with God. A man that is a stranger from the life of God, can- not resist temptation to sin, as it is a sin, because he never knew the beauty of holiness ; but from the beauty of a civil life, he may resist temptations to such times * as may weaken respect, and from love of his own quiet, may abstain from those sins that will affright conscience. And the cause why civil men fear the less disturbance fi'om temptations is, because they are wholly under the power of temptation, till God awaken their heart. What danger they see not, they feel not, the strong man holds his posses- sion in them, and is too wise, by rousing them out of their sleep to give them occasion of thoughts of escape. None more under the danger of temptation, than they that discern it not ; they are Satan's stales, ' taken by him at his pleasure,' whom Satan useth to draw others into the same snare. Therefore Satan troubleth not them, nor himself about them ; but the true Christian fears a temptation in everything. His chief care is, that in what condition soever he be, it prove not a temptation to him. Afflictions, indeed, are more ordinarily called temptations, than prosperity, because Satan by them breedeth an impression of sorrow and fear, which affections have an especial working upon us in the course of our lives, making us often to forsake God, and desert his cause. Yet snares are laid in every- thing we deal with, which none can avoid but those that see them. None see, but those whose eyes God opens ; and God useth the ministiy of his servants for this end, to open the eyes of men, to discover the net, and then, as the wise man saith, ' In vain is the net spread before the sight of any bird.' Domine, quis evadet laqueos istos multos nisi videat istos ? Et quis videbit istos, nisi quern illuminaveris luniine tuo ? ipse enim pater tenebra- rum laqueos suos abscondit, Soliloq. cap. 16. Which goeth under August- ine's name. Tom. 9. This moved this godly minister, my Christian friend, to take pains in this useful argument, as appeareth in this treatise, which is written by him in a clear, quick, and famihar style ; and for the matter and manner of handling, soUd, judicious, and scholar-like ; and which may commend it the more, it is written by one that, besides faithfulness and iruitfulness in his ministry, hath been a good proficient in the school of temptation him- self, and therefore the fitter, as a skilful watchman, to give warning and aim to others ; for there be spiritual exercises of ministers more for others than for themselves. If by this he shall attain, in some measure, what he intended, God shall have the glory, thou the benefit, and he the encourage- ment to make public some other labours. — Farewell in the Lord, RiCHAKD SiBBES. These ' epistles ' and ' prefaces ' shew the cordial relations sus- tained by Sibbes towards liis fellow-divines and contemporaries ; and down to a late period, the booksellers found it a profitable advertisement to say of a book, ' Recommended by Dr Sibbes.' -f* * Qu. ' sins ?'— Ed. t ' Recommended by Dr Sibbes.' Tbc various books of Preston are usually thus advertised ; and those of Burroughs, Hooker, and Cotton as ' approved by Dr Sibbes,' Eglesfield and Colo in their book-lists supply various examples. MEMOIR OF EICHARD SIBBES, D.D. OB CHAPTER X. SIBBES VICAR OF TRINITY, CAilBRIDGE — PEACE-MAKER. Presentation to Vicarage of Trinity by the King — Another relaxation of ' order' of Gray's Inn — Lord Keeper Williams — 'Tender Conscience' — 'Consolatory Letter' — Thomas Goodwin — 'Summer visits' — Earls of Manchester and Warwick — Truro and Say and Seal — Brooks and Veres — Thurston — ' Mother and brethren .' From the manner in which Sibbes escaped the practical effects of the ' High Commission ' and ' Star-Chamber ' decisions, in strik- ing contrast with Davenport and Hooker, and others of the fugitives to Holland and New England, and from the fearless way in which he continued to preach the same sentiments, it is evident that he must have personally commanded the weightiest regard, and secured influence that could not be disregarded. In 1627, he passed D.D. Tn 1633 (shortly after the overthrow of the ' Feoffees ' scheme, which makes it the more memorable), he was presented by the king, Charles I., on its resignation by Thomas Goodwin, who scarcely held it a year,* to ' the vicarage of the holy and undivided Trinity, in the town of Cambridge.' We have the fact in the ' Foedera : — * Ricardus Sibbes, clericus, in Sacra Theologia Professor, habet con- similes Literas Patentes de pz'esentatione ad Vicariam sanctse et individuae Trinitatis in Villa Cantabrigiae, Diocesis Eliensis, per resignationem ultimi Incumbentis ibidem jam vacantem, et ad nostram presentationem pleno jure spectantem ; et deriguntur hae Literas Reverendo in Christo Patri Domino Francisco Eliensi Episcopo. Teste Rege apud Westmonasterium, vicesimo primo die Novembris 1633.' \ This ' presentation ' speaks much for Sibbes ; for at this date Laud was filling every place with men of his own kind. We have not the means of determining by what influence this appointment was obtained. One tells us Goodwin resigned ' in favour of Sibbes,' but that could scarcely be, inasmuch as he at the same time resigned all his offices and honours in the University. Besides, the difficulty is only removed back a stage ; how did it come about that a Puritan resigned and another stepped into his place ? It may be that it was a tacit recompence for the former injustice of ' outing ' him from his lectureship of Trinity and his fellowship ; but it is more probable that on the ' Feoffees' ' decision, the powerful friends of the preacher at Gray's Inn interfered in such a way as to let the primate under- stand that they, at any rate, were not to be trifled with ; and that then he secured, or at least did not hinder, this ' presentation.' But there is the further difficulty of the ' order ' of Gray's Inn, that their preacher was not only to be continually resident, but * Eymer's Foedera, xis., 440, No. 81, ed. 1732. t ■f^*'^-. xix., 586. CXU MEMOIE OF RICHABD SIBBES, D.D. likewise to have no other ecclesiastical preferment. As Sibbes actually accepted and acted as vicar, the ' order ' must once more have been relaxed in his favour. Indeed, I suspect that ' order ' ■was originally passed for a personal object and from a personal reason. The immediate predecessor of Sibbes was a Mr Fenton, — in all likelihood, though no Christian name appears in the ' Order- Books ' of Gray's Inn, the same with Roger Fenton, D.D., who was a great pluralist, and who died 16th January 1615-16. He held the prebend, rectory, and vicarage of St Pancras, and the rectory of St Stephen's, Walbrook, and also the vicarage of Chig- well, Esfc-ex, till his death. Probably he neglected his duties as preacher at Gray's Inn. Hence the check put upon his successor.* For one so faithful in the discharge of his office, and who was regarded by all as a personal friend, there would be no great diffi- culty in making arrangements, in order to his accepting the ' pre- sentation,' and still continuing the honoured preacher of Gray's Inn. It is greatly to be lamented that the most diligent and persistent research has failed to add any memorials to the fact of his en- trance on the vicarage of Trinity. Though he must have been non-resident, he would have many opportunities to officiate during * vacation ' time at the Inn. This is the last public honour recorded as having been conferred upon Sibbes. What remains to be told partakes of the privacy of his daily life. One little fact, half-casually recorded in that extraordinary folio, ' Scrinia Reserata : a Memorial offer'd to the great de- servings of John Williams, D.D., who some time held the place of Lord Keeper of the Great Seal of England, &c., &c., &c., by John Hacket, late Lord Bishop of Litchfield and Coventry,' 1693 — a book sui generis, and than which none gives profounder insight into the ' form and pressure of the age,' — brings out a very beautiful side of Sibbes's character, and dates to us, if I err not, one of the most interesting, biographically, of his minor writings. Vindicating Williams — a vindication which, the more successful it is, the more it damages the strangely contradictory character of the Lord Keeper — from the rumour of favouring Puritans, Hacket thus introduces Sibbes : — ' Another rank for whose sake the Lord Keeper sufFer'd, were scarce an handful, not above three or four in all the wide Bishoprick of Lincoln, who did not oppose, but by an ill education seldom used the appointed cere- monies. Of whom when he was certified by his commissaries and ofl&cials- * ' Check put upon his successor.' For these facts and the inference from them I owe thanks to Dr Hesse 7 MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. CXIU he sent for them, and confer'd with them with much meekness?, sometimes remitted them to argue with his chaphiin. If all this stii-red them not, he commended them to his old collegiate Dr Sibbes, or Dr Gouch (Gouge), tcho knew the scruples of these mens hearts, and how to bring them about, the best of any about the city of London.'* There is such a fascination, spite of all his errors, or it may be crimes, about the hot-blooded Welshman, so stormy and impulsive, so wise and yet so foolish, that one is glad to find, that even when he was ' Lord Keeper,' and surrounded by very different men, he forgot neither him who was once his humble fellow-student of St John's, nor the staunch puritan of ' Blackfryers/ William Gouge, also a contemporary at Cambridge, but — ' They had been friends, when friendship is A passion and a blessedness ; And in a tender sacrament Unto the house of God they went, And phghted love, — caressing The same dear cup of blessing. * They had been friends in youth, most dear ; In studious night, and mirthful cheer, And high discourse, and large debate, Unmixed by bitterness or hate — Their fellowship, I ween, A pleasant thing had been.' It is specially pleasing to know what was the occasion of again associating the students of earlier years — to wit, tender dealing with tender consciences. I like to place that over against his after humiliating repudiation of all Puritans, extorted from him while under the shadow of a charge of treason, and in a letter to LAUD.f He was truthful in his favour ; untruthful in his disfavour. The fact also dates, as I have intimated, one of the minor writings of Sibbes, which illustrates how he would discharge the office assigned to him. It is entitled : — A Consolatory Letter To an afflicted Conscience : full of pious admo- nitions and Divine Instructions. Written by that famous Divine, Doctor SiBBS : and now published for the common good and edification of the Church. Ecclesiastes vi. IQ, Be not thou just overmuch, neither make thy selfe overivise ; icherefore shouldest thou, be desolate. [Woodcut portrait. iEtat : Suie 58.] London, Printed for Francis Coules. 1641. t * i. 95. ' Scrinia ' seems to have been a favourite title. The historical student will recall also ' Scrinia Ceciliana.' t Works of Laud. vi. pp. 312-314. Sept. 9. 1638. X For a copy of this excessively rare ' Letter,' published in a thin 4to, pp. 6, lam indebted to the kindness of Joshua Wilson, Esq., Nevill Park, Tunbridge WeUs, who has devoted much time to good purijose in investigating the history, and bio- graphy, and bibliography of Puritaui.sm. His ' Historical Inquiry concerning the Principles, &c., of English Presbyterians ' (1835) has not gathered all its renown yet. CXIV MEMOIR OF EICHAKD SIBBES, D.D. I introduce this ' Letter ' liere, retaining its ortnography : — Deare Sir, I understand by your Letter, that you have many and great tryals ; some externall and bodily, some internall and spirituall : as the de- privall of inwai'd comfort, the buffetings (and that in more then ordinary manner), of your soule, with Satans temptations : and (which makes all those inward and outward, the more heavy and insupportable) that you have wanted Christian society with the Saints of God, to whom you might make knowne your griefes, and by whom you might receive comfort from the Lord, and incouragement in your Christian course. Now that which I earnestly desire in your behalfe, and hope likewise you doe in your owne, is that j'ou may draw nearer to God, and be more con- formable to his command by these afflictions ; for if our afflictions be not sanctified, that is, if we make not an holy use of them by purging out the old leaven of our ingenerate corruptions, they are but judgments to us, and makes way for greater plagues : loh v. 14. And therefore the chiefe end and ayme of God in all the afflictions which he sends to his children in love, is, that they may be partakers of his holinesse, and so their afflictions may conduce to their spirituall advantage and profit, Heb. xii. 10. The Lord aymes not at himselfe in any calamities he layes on us, (for God is so infinitely all-sufficient, that we canadde nothing to him by all our doings or sufferings) but his maine ayme is at our Melioration and Sanctification in and by them. And therefore our duty in every affliction and pressure, is thus to thinke with our selves : How shall we carry and behave our selves under this crosse, that our soules may reap profit by it ? This (in one word) is done by our returning and drawing nearer to the Lord, as his holy Apostle exhorts us, lames iv. 8. This in all calamities the Lord hath a speciall eye unto, and is exceeding wroth if he finde it not. The Prophet declares That his anger was not turned fro^n Israel, because they turned not to him that smote them, Isa. i. 4, 6. Now it is impossible that a man should draw nigh to God, and turne to him, if he tm-ne not from his evill wayes: for in every conversion there is Terminus a quo, something to be turned from, as well as Terminus ad quod, something to be turned to. Now, that we must turn to, is God ; and that we must tm-ne from, is sinne ; as being diametrall}'^ opposite to God, and that which separates betweene God and us. To this purpose we must search and try our hearts and wayes, and see what sinnes there be that keepe us from God, and separate us from his gracious favour : and chiefly we must weed out our speciall bosom-sins. This the ancient Church of God counsels each other to doe in the time of their anguish and aflliction. Lam. iii. 39, 40, Let iis search and try our wayes, and turne arjaine to the Lord : for though sinne make not a final! divorce betwixt God and his chosen people, yet it may make a dangerous rupture by taking away sense of comfort, and suspending the sweet influ- ence of his favour, and the efl'ectuall operation of his grace. And therefore (deare Sir) my earnest suit and desire is, that you would diligently peruse the booke of your conscience, enter into a thorow search and examination of your heart and life ; and every day before you goe to bed, take a time of recollection and meditation, (as holy Isaac did in his private walkes. Gen. xxiv. 03), holding a privy Session in your soule, and indicting your selfe for all the sins, in thought, word, or act committed, & all the good duties you have omitted. This self-examination, if it be so strict and rigid as it ought to be, will soone shew you tho sins whereto you MEMOIR OF RICHAED SIBBES, D.D. CXY are most inclinable (the cliiefe cause of all your sorrowes), and conse- quently, it will (by God's assistance) eftcctually instruct you to fly from those venomous and fiery serpents, which have so stung you. And though you have (as you say) committed many grievous sinnes, as abusing God's gracious ordinances, and neglecting the golden opportunities of grace : the originall, as you conceive of all your troubles ; yet I must tell you, there is another Coloquintida in the pot, another grand enormity (though you perceive it not) and that is your separation from Gods Saints and Servants in the Acts of his publike Service and worship. This you may clearly discern by the affliction it selfe, for God is methodicall in his corrections, and doth (many times) so suite the crosse to the sinne, that you may reade the sin in the crosse. You confesse that your maine afflic- tion, and that which made the other more bitter, is, that God tooke away those to whom you might make your complaint ; and from whom you might receive comfort in your distresse. And is not this just with God, that when you wilfully separate your selfe from others, he should separate others from you ? Certainly, when we undervalue mercy, especially so great a one as the communion of Saints is, commonly the Lord takes it away from us, till we learne to prize it to the full value. Consider well therefore the haynousnesse of this sin, which that you may the better conceive, First, consider it is against Gods expresse Precept, charging us not to for- sake the assemblies of the Saints, Heb. x. 20, 25. Again, it is against our own greatest good and spirituall solace, for by discommunicating & excommunicating our selves from that blessed society, we deprive our selves of the benefit of their holy conference, their godly instructions, their divine consolations, brotherly admonitions, and charitable reprehensions ; and what an inestimable losse is this ? Neither can we partake such profit by their praj'ers as otherwise we might : for as the soule in the naturall body conveyes life and strength to every member, as they are compacted and joyned together, and not as dis-severed ; so Christ conveyes spirituall life and ^dgour to Christians, not as they are disjoyned from, bvit as they are united to the mysticall body, the Chm-ch. But you will say Enr/Iand is not a true Church, and therefore you separate ; adhere to the tnie Church. I answer, our Church is easily proved to be a true Church of Christ : First, because it hath all the essentialls, necessary to the constitution of a true Church ; as sound preaching of the Gospell, right dispensation of the Sacraments, Prayer religiously performed, and evill persons justly punisht (though not in that measure as some criminals and malefactors deserve :) and therefore a true Church. 2. Because it hath begot many spirituall children to the Lord, which for soundnesse of judgement, and holinesse of hfe, are not inferiour to any in other Reformed Churches. Yea, many of the Separation, if ever they were converted, it was here with us : (which a false and adulterous Church communicated.) But I heare you reply, our Church is corrupted with Ceremonies, and pestered with prophane persons. What then ? must we therefore separate for Ceremonies, which many think may be lawfully used. But admit they be evils, must we make a rent in the Church for Ceremonious Kites, for circumstantiall evils ? That were a remedy worse than the disease. Be- sides, had not all the true Churches of Christ their blemishes and deformi- ties, as you may see in seaven Asian Churches ? Rev. ii. and iii. And though you may finde some Churches beyond Sea free from Ceremonies, VOL. I. h CXM MEMOIR OF BICHAED SIBBES, D.D. yet notwithstanding they are more corrupt in Preachers, (which is the maine) as in prophanation of the Lord's day, &c. As for wicked and prophane Persons amongst us, though we are to labour by all good meanes to purge them out, yet are we not to separate because of this residence with us : for, there will bee a miscellany and mixture in the visible Church, as long as the world endures, as our Saviour shewes bj many parables : Matth. xiii. If therefore we should be so oveijust as to abandon all Churches for the intermixture of wicked Persons, we must saile to the Antipodes, or rather goe out of the world, as the Apostle speaks : it is agreed by all that Noahs Arke was a type and embleme of the Church. Now as it had been no lesse then selfe-murder for Noah, Sem, ov laphet, to have leapt out of the Arke, because of that ungracious Cains * company ; so it is no better then soule-mm'der for a man to cast himself out of the Church, either for reall or imaginall corruptions. To conclude, as the Angell injoyned Hagar to returne, and submit to her Mistris Sarah, so let me admonish you to returne yoiu- selfe from these extravagant courses, and submissively to render your self to the sacred communion of this truly Evangelicnll Church of England. I beseech you therefore, as yon respect Gods gloiy and your owne eternal! salvation, as There is hut one body and one spirit, one Lord, one Baptisme, oyie God and Father of all, who is above all, and through all, and in lis all ; so endeavour to keep the xmity of the spirit in the bond of peace, Eph. iv., as the Apostle sweetly invites you. So shall the peace of God ever establish you, and the God of peace ever preserve you ; which is the prayer of Your remembrancer at the Throne of Grace R. SiBS. The preceding ' Letter,' the more valuable because of the paucity of such memorials of Sibbes, v^^as in all likelihood ad- dressed to Thomas Goodwin, D.D., who has been designated the Atlas and patriarch of Independency. Francis White, Bishop of Ely, "within whose jurisdiction the Church of Trinity, Cambridge, lay, being one of the ultra-zealous adherents of Laud, had put every obstacle possible in the way of Goodwin's acceptance, and subse- quently of his installation ; but he was ultimately installed as vicar, having passed from the curacy of St Andrew's, Cambridge, thereto. On the succession of Laud to the primacy, his special charge to his bishops was to watch over the lecturers, and ' watch over' had a terrible significance. White harassed all within his dio- cese who sought to preach evangelically. He renewed his attacks upon Goodwin. The result was, that, dissatisfied with the restric- tions imposed upon preaching that trutli which, from the time of Sibbes's barbed words to him, he had found to be the very life of his own soul, he resigned at once his vicarage, lectureship of Trinity, and fellowship of Catharine Hall, and removed, as it would appear, to London, where he began to propagate his new views and conclusions in regard to church government. He shrank not from the name, then of evil omen, of ' Separatist.' t The * Qu. ' Cliam's ?'— Ed. t Consult Dr Hallcy's Memoir of Goodwin in this series, II, xxiii-iv. MEMOIR OF RICHAED SIBBES, D.D. CXVU whole circumstances of the case, their previous friendship, their mutual sentiments, warrant, I apprehend, the supposition that this grave, loving, skilful, and admirable letter Avas addressed to Thomas Goodwin. If so, it was unsuccessful in winning him back to ' the church.' Methinks Sibbes would have acted more faithfully as well as more consistently, had he followed the example of his friends, Goodwin, John Cotton, John Davenport, Thomas Hooker, Samuel Stone, and their compeers. The spirit that pervades his letter i-s worthier than his arguments. It seems difficult to see how Goodwin could have remained within the pale of the church, gagged and hindered as he was in what was to him momentous beyond all earthly estimate ; and it was equally impossible to give ' assent and consent' to what those in authority pronounced to be the ' beauty of holiness,' and teaching of the Book of Common Prayer. Sibbes allowed of neither. By the powerful influence of his many friends, while certainly, as we have seen, summoned before Star Chamber and High Commission, he held on in his way of preach- ing the same gospel everywhere. That explains his remaining within the church. Who doubts for a moment, that, if his mouth had been shut, as was Goodwin's, on the ' one thing,' Sibbes would have placed himself beside his friend ? Perhaps there would have been more of hngering effort to get above the difficulties, more pain in sundering of the ties that bound him to the church, more sway given to heart than head. Still the final decision, beyond all debate, would have been that of the ' two thousand' of 1662. The more shame to those who compelled such loyal lovers of 'the church' to leave her. This letter gives us insight into Sibbes's method of procedure in dealing with the scruples of the conscien- tious. It is to be regretted that we have no more of such letters, and none of his conversations with them. But we have the fact, upon various authority, that he was at all times ready to speak a word in season, and on principle, contrived to sanctify all his intercourse with his fellow-men, as well more privately as publicly. He had many opportunities of influencing for good some of the finest minds of the age ; and he availed himself of such opportunities. He was wont, Samuel Clarke informs us, ' in the summer time, to go abroad to the houses of some worthy personages, where he was an instrument of much good, not only by his private labours, but by his prudent counsel and advice, that upon every occasion he was ready to minis- ter unto them.' * Charles Stanford has well Kmned to us such visits in Alleine's day. If you wish, he says, ' to see what Puritan life was like in " the high places," go with l^Ir Alleine and * Clarke, ante, p. 145. CXVIU MEMOIR OF EICHABD SIBBES, D.D. his brother Norman, to spend an evening with Admiral Blake at his country house at Knowle.' * Instead of Alleine let us go with Sibbes, and instead of Admiral Blake at Knowle, let the visit be to John Pym, or to Lady Mary Vere, or to Sir Robert and Lady Brooke, or any of those great and true families, whose heads ' bore, without abuse, The grand old name of gentleman,' and ' feared God,' and were ' lovers of all good men.' Suppose Colonel Hutchinson and the Puritan Admiral to be also guests. There would be the simple meal, — the Bible would be brought in, — ^there would be prayer, — there would be conversation such as Christians love, and which they can only have when in ' their own company,' — there would probably be discourse, in logical forms, on some of the mysteries of Christian truth, — of course, there would be reasonings over some ' case of conscience.' Dr Gouge would be apt to get prosy, in discussing the opinions of Fragosa, Talet, Sayrus, and Boderiques, or of Doctors XJrsinus or Lobetius ; Master Davenport would interpose a ' why ' or ' how ;' and Richard Sibbes would close with some sweet words from John or the Lord himself, modestly confirming his own elucidations of them from Bernard, or with a quaint saying from Luther, or a wise apophthegm from Augustine. Then there would be a flow of grace- ful and varied talk, not only on politics (' Petition of Right,' and so on), but on books, pictures, gardening, or the last scientific experi- ments of the ' Oxford Society;' and the tall-browed statesman, and the great sailor, ' would affect a droll concern to prove before the ministers, by the aptness and abundance of their Latin quotations, that in becoming ' leader in the House ' and admiral, they had not forfeited their claim to be considered good classics.' You could not find better types of the winning, yet stately Christian gentle- man, than among such Puritan circles ; and where will you match their ' fair ladyes V We have confirmation of the 'visits' and of their results in the several ' epistles ' and * dedications ' of his posthu- mous writings. Each of these records personal intercourse and kind- nesses, and the tenderest cherishing of his memory. He was a fre- quent guest with the Earls of Manchester and' Warwick, and Ladies Anne and Susanna, their Countesses, Lord Say and Seal, Lord Roberts^ Baron Truro, and Lady Lucie his consort, but most of all with the Brooks and Veres, with whom he lived on the most familiar terms. The 'dedications' and 'epistles' will be found in their respective * Joseph Alleine: liis Companions and Times, pp. 131-2; and Hepworfh Dixon'a Life of JUake, p. 2G7. I accommodate, rather than quote from Stanford's picturesque and masterly work. MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. CXIX places ; but, as it reflects interesting light and mutual honour on both, I must introduce in full the ' epistle dedicatory' of the ' Foun- tain Sealed,' to ' the truly noble and much honoured lady, the Lady Elizabeth Brooke, wife to Sir Robert Brooke,' and also glean a few biographic sentences from others. The 'epistle' to Lady Brooke, one of the most remarkable women of England, at a period when there were many such, is as follows : — ■ To the truly noble and much honoured lady, the Lady Elizabeth Brooke, wife to Sir Robert Brooke. ' Madam, — Besides that deserved interest your Ladyship held in the affections and esteem of this worthy man more than any friend alive, which might entitle you to all that may call him author, this small piece of his acknowledge th a more special propriety unto your Ladyship. For though his tongue was as the pen of a ready writer in the hand of Christ, who guided him, yet your Ladj'ship's hand and pen was in this his scribe and amanuensis, whilst he dictated a first draught of it in private, with intention for the public. In which labour, both of humility and love, youi' Ladj'- ship did that honour unto him which Baruch, though great and noble, did but receive in the like transcribing the words of Jeremiah from his mouth, wherein yet your Lad3'ship did indeed but write the story of your own life, which hath been long exactly framed to the rules herem prescribed. We, therefore, that are intrusted in the publishing of it, deem it but an act of justice in us to retm-n it thus to your Ladyship, unto whom it owes even its first birth, that so, wherever this little treatise shall come, there also this that you have done may be told and recorded for a memorial of you. And we could not but esteem it also an addition of honour to the work, that no less than a lady's hand, so pious and so much honoured, brought it forth into the world, although in itself it deserveth as much as any other this blessed womb did bear. The Lord, in way of recompense, write all the holy contents of it yet more fully and abundantly in your ladyship's heart, and aU the lineaments of the image of Jesus Christ, and seal up all unto you by his blessed Spirit, with joy and peace, to the day of redemption. — Madam, we are your Ladyship's devoted, Thos. Goodwin. Philip Nye. It was no uncommon thing for ladies moving in the highest circles thus to ' take down ' the sermons of their ministers, or discharge the office of amanuenses. Contemporaneously with Lady Brooke we find Lady Elizabeth Rich, another of Sibbes's friends, transcribing and preparing for the press William Strong's great foHo ' Of the Covenants.'* Of Lady Brooke, her biographer Park- hurst states, among many other things of note, that — ' She used a mighty industry to preserve what either instmot'^d her mind or affected her heart in the sermons she had heard. To ineoo sue gave great attention in the Assembly, and heard them repeated in her family. And thus she would discourse of them in the evening ; and in the follow- ing week she had them again repeated, and discoursed the matter of them to some of her family in her chamber. And besides all this, she -wrote the substance of them, and then digested many of them into questions and * 1678. Dedication by Theophilus Gale to Lady Elizabeth Kich. CXX MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. answers, or under heads of common-places, and then they became to her- matter for repeated meditation. And by these methods she was always in- creasing her knowledge, or confirming the things that were known.'* Addressing Lord Roberts, Baron Truro, and Lady Lucie, John 8edgwick thus commences his ' dedication ' of the ' Beams of Divine Light :'— * Right Honourable and truly Noble, — It was not so much the nobility of your blood, as that of grace given unto you from the divine hand, ivhich did so much interest you in the love and esteem of that ivorthy servant of Christ, the author of this work, in whom Urim and Thummim met, whose whole course being a real and vital sermon, sweetly consonant to the tenor of his teaching, made him amiable living and honourable dead, in the opinion of as many as well knew him. This was the thing, I suppose, which wrought unto him from you, as well as from many otJiers of your noble stock and rank, more than an ordinary esteem.' -f Again, in like manner he addresses Robert, Earl of Warwick, and Lady Susanna, in ' Light from Heaven :' — * For me to commend the author, were to make the world to judge him either a stranyer unto you, or a man that had not ingratiated himself with you whilst he lived near unto you. I well knew that he had an honourable opinion of you both, and of yours You that knew and loved him so well shall, ia vouchsafing to read over these ensuing sennons, find his spirit in them.' | These ' testimonies ' might be greatly multiplied, and it is very pleasing to know that one who so carried about with him the ' sweet savour ' of Christ was thus welcomed at the Kimboltons, and Cockfields, and Hevinghams, and other of the family seats and castles of the nobility and gentry. It is especially honourable to Sibbes that he received such cordial welcome from the nobles and gentry of his own native county of Suffolk. The Tostock ' wheelwi'ight's ' son reversed the too often true saying of a pro- phet not being withovit honour 'save in his own country and among his own kin.' The Day will declare the good effected by these summer visits and 'conferences in private, done aptly, pithily, and profitably .... much in few words.' § While thus a visitor among the 'great ones,' he did not forget his birth-place or school-boy haunts, his ' mother, and brethren.' I turn here to the manuscript of the Vicar of Thurston : — * Anno Domini 1G08. I came to be minister of Thurston, and he was then a Fellow of the College, and a preacher of good note in Cambridge, and we soon grew well acquainted. For whensoever he came down into the * Quoted in Wilford's ' Memorials and Characters,' folio, 1741, page 210. Con- sult pp. 209-213, and Appendix xvii. t Ep. Dod., 4to, IGSg. X Ep. Ded., 4to, 1638. 2 ' Epistle Dedicatory ' to ' Evangelical Sacrifices,' 4to, 1G40. MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. CXXl country to visit his mother and brethren (his father being deceased) he would never fail to preach with us on the Lord's day, and for the most part twice, telling me that it was a work of charity to help a constant and a pain- ful preacher, for so he was pleased to conceive of me. And if there were a communion appointed at any time he would be sure not to withdraw him- self after sermon, but receiving the bread and wine at my hands, he would always assist me in the distribution of the cup to the congregation.' The church of Thurston, in which Sibbes thus ministered, has only within these two years disappeared. Its great tower fell, and it was found necessary to rebuild the whole. This has been done nearly in fac-simile of the original.* The parsonage of the excel- lent vicar remains. It has degenerated into a kind of farmer's house, but on a recent visit I found many traces of former elegance and comfort. It is two-storied, with lozenge-paned windows, and heavy sculptured doorway. In front is an avenue of noble chesnuts and beeches, and pollard limes. The ' garden ' must have been of con- siderable extent. Imagination was busy calling up Sibbes and Catlin walking arm-in-arm along the mossed avenue. I stepped across the threshold of the ancient house, sat down by the carved mantel-pieced fireside with reverence. It was something to know that there our worthies had many and many a time exchanged loving words, perhaps smoked a pipe. Finely does the vicar continue his personal reminiscences of the visits to Thurston, and of his friend's kindnesses. We must asrain listen to him : — * As for his kindness to his kindred, and neglect of the world, it was very remarkable. For this I can testify of my own knowledge, that, purchasing of Mr Tho. Clark and others in our town a messuage and lands at several times to the value of fifty pounds per annum, he paid the fines to the lords but never took one penny of the rents or profits of them, hut left the benefit wholly to his mother and his tivo brethren as long as he lived. So much did this heavenly-minded man of God' ('heavenly' seems instinctively to drop from eveiy one who writes of him) ' slight this present world (which the most men are so loth to part withal when they die) that he freely and un- desired parted with it whilst he lived, requiring nothing of them but only to be liberal to the poor. Nay, over and besides, if any faithful, honest man came down from Cambridge or London, where he lived, by whom he might conveniently send, he seldom or never failed to send his mother a * An engraving of the churcli as it was before its fall is given in one of those privately printed family histories, for which we are indebted to the lovo of the Americans towards their mother country. ' The Brights of Suffolk, England ; repre- Bented in America by the descendants of Henry Bright jun., who came to New England in 1630, and settled in Watertown, Massachusetts. By J. B. Bright. For private circulation. Boston. 1 vol. royal 8vo. 1858.' See opposite page 109. This book is of the deepest interest, well arranged, and illustrated lavishly with portraits and other illustrations.' Mr Bright in the most obliging manner sent me a copy. eXXU MEMOIR OF RICHAKD SIBBES, D.D. piece of gold, for the most part a ten shilling piece, but five shillings was the least, =1'- and this he continued as long as his mother lived. And would she have been persuaded to exchange her counti-y life for the city, he often told me that he would willingly have maintained her there in good view and fashion, like his mother, but she had no mind to alter her accustomed course ol life in her old days, contenting herself with her own means, and that addition which her son made thereunto.' And still farther the good old man continues, with a love and reverence most affecting, and that only a true man could have se- cured : — ' For his special kindness to myself, in particular, I cannot omit that, being trusted by personages of quality with divers sums of money for pious and charitable uses, he was pleased, among many others, not to forget me. At one time he sent me down three twenty-shilling pieces of gold enclosed in a letter, and at two other times he delivered to me with his own hand two twenty- shilling pieces more ; and so far was this humble saint from Pharisaical ostentation and vainglory, and from taking the honour of these good works to himself, that he plainly told me that these gratuities were not of his own cost, but being put in trust, and left to his own discretion in the distribution, he looked upon me as one that took great pains in my ministry and in teaching scholars, and at that time labouring under the burden of a great charge of children, and so thought me a fit object of their intended charity. And from myself his love descended down to my son for my sake, for whom (before he had ever seen him, being then at the grammar-school at Bury, he then, chosen Master of Katherine Hall, pro- mised me a scholarship there of five pounds a year, and to provide for him a tutor and a chamber. And such was his constancy of spirit and his reality, that whatsoever promise he made me he would be sure both to re- member it and to make it good as freely as he first made it, that was un- asked and undesired. And for these manifold kindnesses all that he de- sired at my hands was no more but this, that I would be careful of the souls of my 2Jeople, and, in special, of his mother, his hretliren, and his sisters, and would give them good counsel in their disposing themselves in mar- riage, or upon any other occasion, as I saw they stood in need. And this one thing I may not pass over concerning myself, that in his last will and testament he gave me a legacy of forty shillings, with the title of " his loving friend," which I the rather mention, because I had not the least thought to have been in that sort remembered by him at his death, h\'ing at no less distance from him than of threescore miles. In a word, such v/as the low- liness of this sweet servant of God, such his learning, parts, piety, pru- dence, humility, sincerity, love, and meekness of spirit (whereof every one was a loadstone to attract, unite, and fasten my spirit close to his), that I profess ingenuously no man that ever I was acquainted withal got so far into my heart or lay closer there, so that many times I could not part from him with diy eyes. But who am I ? or what is it to be beloved of me, especiaUy for him that had so inaiiy caul great friouls as he had '? Yet even to me the great God is pleased to say, " My son, give me thy heart," and this poor and contrite heart I know he will not despise ; and this heart of mine, as small as it is, yet is too great to close with a proud, profane, worldly, malicious heart, though it be in a prince. But true virtue and * This may fairly bo couBidered equal to a pound of our present money. MEMOIR OF RICHAKD SIBBES, D.D. CXXUi grace are the image of God himself, and where they are discerned by wis- dom's children they command the heart and are truly lovely and venerable, whereas carnal notions and unmortified affections (whereof this man of God was as free as any man I know living), they do render a man, whatever he be, if not hateful and contemptible, yet at least less lovely and honourable. But my love to this good man hath transported me beyond my pui'pose, which was to speak of some things less visible to others, especially con- cerning his first education. For when he came to the university and the city, there his life and actions were upon a public theatre, and his own words, without a trumpet, would praise him in the gates. As for his kind- ness to his kindred and to myself, I know none that took more notice of them than I, and therefore I could not hide them from the world upon this occasion without some kind of sacrilege.' Thanks, chatty Zachary, for thy golden words 1 Thou wert a meet companion of Richard Sibbes ! Would that we might recover thy ' Hidden Treasure,' * for, of a truth, it must breathe thy very spirit ! All the notices of the author of The Bruised Reed and Soul's Conflict harmonise with the tribute of the vicar of Thurston. Whether it be Clark or Thomas Fuller, Prynne or Eachard, or his numerous ' prefacers,' he is invariably spoken of with the most touching kindliness. CHAPTER XL ' THE BEGINNING OF THE END.' Retrospect — Character — Humility — the English Leighton — his ' Cygnea-Cantio ' vel Concio. We have now reached ' the beginning of the end.' A few months later, and Richard Sibbes lay dying. But at this point, I would observe, that up to the latest he continued faithfully to execute his office as a ' 'preacher of the word.' Left alone (for Preston was gone : and Cotton, and Davenport, and Hooker, and many others of his circle, were fugitives in New England), he had ever-increasing de- mands made upon him, and no ' door of entrance' was opened into which he did not enter, still ' Hoping through the darkest day.' f He continued to preach at Gray's Inn, in the good old way, the simple gospel that Paul preached, and that of all men John Cal- vin, following Augustine, in his estimate, had best interpreted. * The following is the title, from Crowe's Catalogue of our English writers on Old and New Testament, &c., 1668 : — ' Hidden-Treasure, two sermons on Mat. xiii. 44. 4to. 1633,' Can any reader help to this? t Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell, p. 34, 12mo. 1846. CXXIV MEMOIR OF EICHAED SIBBES, D.D. He resided with enlarged acceptability as Master of Catharine Hall, adding to its Fellows, and Students, and Revenues, and from 1632-3, he was, as already recorded, Vicar of Trinity, Cambridge. One incidental sentence informs us, that he was very fully, if not over, occupied, even before his presentation to the Vicarage of Trinity. It occurs at the close of the address ' To the Christian Reader' prefixed to ' The Bruised Reed :' ' What I shall be drawn to do in this kind,' he says, ' nnust be by degrees, as leisure in the midst of many interruptions tvill permit! His was a self-sacrificing, self-consuming life. Quaintly does Mather put it of another. ' There,' he says, ' 'twas that, like a silk- worm, he spent his own bowels or spirits to procure the " garments of righteousness " for his hearers ; there 'twas ... he might chal- lenge the device and motto of the famous Dr Sibs, a wasting lamp, with this inscription, " Prcelucendo pereo," or, " My hght is my death." '* Another casual reference indicates earlier personal sickness. He closes one of his ' Epistles ' prefixed to Ballf by saying, ' Mine own weakness of body taketh me off.' His published writings afford the best evidence of what stamp his preaching Avas. The most cursory reader is struck with the Paul-like kindling of emotion, the Paul-like burning of utter- ance, as often as the name of Christ occurs ; and it is most interest- ing to mark the majestic procession of his words as he walks along some great avenue of thought, leading up to the cross, and from the cross, in farther vista, to the house of many mansions, and to the throne of sculptured light. Very beautifully does Clarke put this : — His learning was mixed with humility, whereby he always esteemed lowly of himself, and was ready to undervalue his own labours, though others judged them to breathe spirit and life, to be strong of heaven, speaking with authority and power to men's consciences. His care in the course of his ministry was to lay a good ^foundation in the heads and hearts of his hearers. And though he were a wise master-builder, and that in one of the eminentest auditories for learning and piety that was in the land, as was said before, yet according to the grace which was given to him (which was indeed like that of Elisha in regard of the other prophets, 2 Ivings i. 9, the elder brother's privilege, a double portion), he icas still taking all occa- sions to jrn'ach of the fundamentals to them : and amongst the rest, of the incarnation of the Son of God, one of the chief fundamentals of our fixith, one of the chief of those wonders in the mercj'^-seat which the cherubim gaze at, which the angels desire to pry into, 1 Pet. i. 12. And preaching at several times, and by occasion of so many several texts of Scripture con- cerning this sulgect, there is scarce any one of those incomparable benefits which accrue to us thereby, nor any of those holy impressions which the meditation hereof ought to make on our hearts, which was not by him * Life of Urian Oakes. Magualia Am. as ante, b. iv. pp. 18G, 187. t -^nte p. cvi. MEMOIR OF RICHABD SIBBES, D.D. CXXV sweetly unfolded, as may appear by those sermons now in print, ' And therefore,' saith a reverend divine, ' the 7ioted humility of the author I less wonder at, finding how often his thoughts dwelt upon the humiliation of Christ. '•■;= The ' reverend divine' referred to was Thomas Fuller, who plays with the conceit in his own wisely-witty way. We cannot pass it by :— He was most eminent for that grace which is most worth, yet costs the least to keep it, viz., Chnstian humility. Of all points of divinity, he most frequently pressed that of Christ's incarnation ; and if the angels desired to pry into that mystery, no wonder if this angelical man had a longing to look therein. A learned divine imputed this good doctor's great humility to his much meditating on that point of Chi-ist's humiliation when he took our flesh upon him. If it be true what some hold in physic, that omiie par nutrit suum par, that the vitals of our body are most strengthened by feed- ing on such meats as are likest unto them, I see no absm-dity to maintain that men's souls improve most in those graces whereon they have most constant meditation, whereof this worthy doctor was an eminent instance. f Aye, quaint and loveable Fuller, and there is a higher autho- rity than ' physic' for it, even 2 Cor. iii. 18, ' We all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even of the Lord, the Spirit.' Thus growing in holiness and humility, Richard Sibbes passed along his ' pilgrimage.' We have found that he lived in troublous times, and that he did not escape his own share of its trials and persecution. It had argued time-serving or a cold neutrality had it been otherwise. We find him also taking a fitting stand for ' the truth,' and speaking brave and noble words, and flinching not from giving them to the world. At the same time, it must be apparent to all who have followed our memoir thus far, that naturally Sibbes was of a ' meek and quiet spirit,' willing to bear and forbear much. I picture him as an English ' Leighton,' as he has been pourtrayed in a little volume of ' poems,' entitled ' The Bishop's Walk.' '^ We have to change very little in the scenery, have but to translate ' Dunblane' to the ' fair garden' lined with elms, of Gray's Inn, or to the acacia-bordered ' Walk' of St Catherine Hall, Cambridge, or, perhaps, to the bosky glades of the Veres, or Brooks, or Man- chesters, or Warwicks. I invite my readers to judge : — * Clarke, ante p. 144. t Fuller's ' Worthies,' ante p. 343 of vol. ii. % TheBishop's Walk and the Bishop's Times, By Orwell. Cambridge : Macmillan, and Co. 1861. The measure will reveal the source of earlier quotations in this memoir ; and certainly the gifted author promises to take a high place among the poets of Scotland, It may be noted here, that among the few Puritan books in th& library of Leighton (preserved at Dunblane) are Sibbes's Bruised Reed (6th edition, 1638) and Soul's Conflict (4th edition, 1638). CXXVl MEMOIR OP EICHAKD SIBBES, D.D. Two hundred years have come and gone, Since that fine spirit mused alone On the dim walk, with faint green shade By the light quivering ash-leaves made, And saw the sun go down Beyond the mountains hrown. Slow pacing with a lowly-look, Or gazing on the lettered book Of Tauler, or A Kempis, or Meek Herbert with his dulcimer, In quaintly pious vein Rehearsing a deep strain : Or in the Gold-mouthed Greek he read High rhetoric, or what was said Of Augustine's experience, Or of the Gospel's grand defence Before assembled lords, In Luther's battle-words. Slow-pacing, with a downcast eye. Which yet, in rapt devotion high. Sometimes its great dark orb would lift. And pierced the veil, and caught the swift Glance of an angel's wing, That of the Lamb did sing ; And with the fine pale shadow, wrought Upon his cheek by years of thought. And lines of weariness and pain, And looks that long for home again ; So went he to and fro With step infirm and slow. A frail, slight form — no temple he, Grand, for abode of Deity ; Eather a bush, inflamed with grace, And trembling in a desert place, And unconsumed with fire. Though burning high and higher. A frail, slight form, and pale with care» And paler from the raven hair That folded from a forehead free Godlike of breadth and majesty — A brow of thought supreme And mystic, glorious dream. And over all that noble face Lay somewhat of soft pensiveness In a fine golden haze of thought. That seemed to waver light, and float This way and that way still, With no firm bent of will. God made him beautiful, to be Drawn to all beauty tenderly. And conscious of all beauty, whether In things of earth or heaven or neither ; So to rude men he seemed Often as one that dreamed. But true it was that, in his soul, The needle pointed to the pole. Yet trembled as it pointed, still Conscious alike of good and ill ; In his infirmity Looking, Lord, to thee. Beautiful spirit ! fallen, alas, On times when little beauty was ; Still seeking peace amid the strife, Still working, weary of thy life. Toiling in holy love. Panting for heaven above : I mark thee, in an evil day. Alone upon a lonely way ; More sad-companionless thy fate, Thy heart more truly desolate. Til an even the misty glen Of persecuted men. For none so lone on earth as he Whose way of thought is high and free Beyond the mist, beyond the cloud. Beyond the clamour of the crowd. Moving, where Jesus trod, In the lone walk with God. We have here the very man before us, and the very books he loved, and the very age he ' fell on,' and from which he was ' taken away.' Looking at the portrait, over and over engraved for the early quartos and duodecimos, and his one folio, Richard Sibbes must have been a man of larger mould, of more massive head, ampler brain-chamber, keener vision than Robert Leighton.* As * Russell, in his 'Memorials of Fuller' (1844), and Mr Mayor, in his prefatory remarks to Catlin's MS., from the Baker MSS., have anticipated the comparison of Sibbes with Leighton. Tlio former says — ' Dr Richard Sibbes ... a writer sur- passed by none in that purity and depth of true spirituality, which also characterised MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. CXXVll one studies the ruff-girted ' Master '-capped face, a more robust soul looks out from the benignant eyes. The seamed and lined forehead tells of deeper thinking, not without storms of doubt and wrestling (that always so leave their mark, like the waves on the sea-shore sands, as though the soul's mystic sea beat there). But the ' inner men,' in their spiritual-mindedness, unworldliness, meek- ness, humility, peacefulness, surely very closely resemble one an- other. But now the stage darkens for ' the end,' * Like a cave's shadow enter'd at mid-day.' * He has to preach but other two ' sermons,' and then go forth on the last great journey. With strange fitness he chooses for his texts, John xiv. 1, 2, ' Let not your heart be troubled ; ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions ; if it were not so, I would have told you.' These two sermons will appear in an early volume. CHAPTER XII. * THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH.' Last Illness — Finishes ' The Soul's Conflict ' — Draws up his ' Will ' — 'Falls on Sleep.' Having preached the last of these two ' sermons,' he ' fell sick that very night, June 28,' with some un-named illness. Feeling that he was indeed dying, he, on ' July 1,' put the finishing touches to his ' Address to the Christian Reader,' for the * Soul's Conflict,' which had been passing through the press during his absence at Cambridge. Glancing over the proof-sheets, he detected certain passages which he found misunderstood, and noticed them ; but apparently was too weak to do more. On the 4th, he ' set his house in order,' by revising and altering his ' last will and testament.' He had many friends, gentle and simple, and it is with no com- mon satisfaction that it is in our power to present this closing me- morial : — t Leighton in a succeeding ago,' p. 8L The latter — 'When we consider the beauty of Sibbes' language, and the gentleness of his temper, in both which respects ho almost deserves the name of the Puritan Leighton, we cannot but wonder at the general neglect which has obscured his memory,' p. 253. * 'Aden :' Poems. By Mrs Clive. 1856. P. 39. t Extracted from the Principal Registry of Her Majesty's Court of Probate, in the Prerogative Court of Canterbury. CXXVIU TiTEMOIR OF BICHAED SIBBES, D.D. ' In the name of God, amen, I, Richard Sibbs, Doctor of Divinity, weake in body, but of p'fect memory, doe make and ordaine this my last will and testament, in manner and forme foUoweing : First, I comend and be- queath my soule into the hands of my gratious Saviour, whoa hath redeemed it w*'' his most pretious blood, and appeares now in heaven to receave it, with humble thankes that he hath vouchsafed I should be home and live in the best tymes of the gospell, and have my interest in the comforte of it ; as alsoe, that he hath vouchsafed me the honour of being a publisher thereof w**" some measure of faythfuUnes. My body I would have to be buried at the discretion of my executors. And as for that outward estate that God, in his rich goodnes, hath blessed me w*^all, my minde and will is as foUoweth : First, I give and bequeath unto my brother Thomas Sibbs of Thurston, in the countie of Suffolk,* all my messuages, lands, and tene- ments, with the appurtenances, lyeing and being in Thurston aforesaid, or elsewhere, for and dureing the terme of his naturall life ; and after my said brother's decease, to John Sibbs, sonne of my late brother John Sibbs, and now a student at Katherine Hall, in Cambridge, f and to his heires for ever : Item, I give unto my sister, Margaret Mason, foui'tie pounds ; and unto the children of my late sister, Susann Lopham, deceased, the some of thirty pounds, to be equally devided amongst them ; as likewise, I give unto the children of my late sister, Elizabeth King, deceased, the some of fourtie pounds, to be equally decided amongst them ; the said threescore and ten pounds, soe given to the children of my said sisters, I would have payed to the said children, severally and proporconably, at the dayes of their marriage, or when they shall accomplish their severall ages of one-and- twenty yeares, or otherwise sooner, at the discretion of my executors : Item, I give unto my uncle Sibbs, yf he be liveing, fourtie shillings ; and unto the children of my late aunte who dwelt in or neer Walding- feild, in Essex, | the some of three pounds : Item, I give unto my cosen, Jeremy Huske, unto my cosins, Anne Beckett and Elizabeth Beckett, to every of them fourtie shillings : Item, I give mito the poore of the said towne of Thurston twentie shillings : Item, I give unto such of my poore kindred as are now dwelling at Stowlangton, § in Suffolke, or elsewhere, whoe are now knowne to my executors, fourtie shillings, to be disposed according to the discretion of my executors : Item, I give unto James Joyner of London, whoe hath beene very faithfuU in his service unto me tenn pounds ; and to my loveing frends, Mr Dermer, haberdasher, dwelling on Ludgate Hill, twenty shillings, and to his wife twentie shillings, and to Widdow Dermer twentie shilUngs ; and to my good friends Goodman Pin- kaur and Goodman Rocke, dwelling in Perpoole Lane, to each of them twenty shillings : Item, I give unto Mr Nicholas Parry, steward of Grayes Inne, three pounds ; and to Mr Guy, cheife cooke there, a ring of tenn shillings ; and to his under servants, to be disposed at his discretion, the some of twenty shillings in the whole : Item, I give unto the three cheife butlers of Gr;iyes Inne, to eveiy of them, twenty shillings ; alsoe, I give unto the inferiour servants of that house twenty shillings, to be disposed of ac- cording to the discretion of the steward ; and as for that Hono^'® Society of Grayes Inne, I have nothing to bequeath unto it but the prayers of a sicke and dyeing man, that it may continue to be still a semenary of worthy men, * See B in Appendix to this Memoir, f Ibid. % Thig h a slip. It is in Suffolk, near Sudbury, on borders of Essex. g Stowlangtoft, three miles from Thurston. MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. CXXIX whoe may be alwayes ready to maintaine religion and justice, w*'' humble tliankes for all their kindnesse and loveing respects towardes mee : Item, I give unto my auncient and deare frend, ould Mr Mew, in remembrance or* my love, one of Mr Downham's books, called a Direccon to a Christian Life ;=■'- and to my deare and very worthy frend, Mr John Pym, f a ring ol fourtie shillings : Item, I give unto my very good frend, Mr William Mew, one silver spoone, now in the custody of James Joyner aforenamed : Item, I give unto the poore of the parrish where I shal be buried twenty shillings : Item, I give unto my very worthy, religious, and bountifall frend, Mrs Maiy Moore,! as a poore remembrance of my harty love unto her, one lyng of fourtie shillings ; and to my very worthy frends S'' Robert Brooke of Langly, to his lady,§ and to his brother, Mr John Brooke, to each of them a ring of fourtie shiUings ; and to my kind frend, Mr Stevens of Gloucester- shire, aringii oftwentie shiUings ; and to my worthy friend, Mr Capell,ir late preacher in Gloucestershire, twenty shiUings : Item, I give five pounds to the poore of the p'ishes of Trinity and St Andrews, in Cambridge : Item, Whereas there is due unto me, from the CoUedge of St Katherine, in Cam- bridge, one hundred pounds, for w"** Mr Goodwyn and Mr Arrow Smith** stand bound to mee, haveing the seale of the said coUedge for their securetie, I doe hereby give and bequeath unto the said coUedge, for ever, the said some of one hundred pounds, for the setling of a scholarship of fower pounds p. ann. ; to w"'"' said schoUership my will and desire is, that my kinsman, John Sibbs, aforemenconed, shal be first elected and admitted ; and that in all future eleccons, when the same shal be void in tyme to come, yf any of my kindred shal be then students in the said coUedge, the p'son soe of kynne to me shal be p''ferred before another : Item, I give unto my loveing frend, Mr Catline, preacher of Thurston, fourtie shillings : Item, I give unto my good frend, Mr Almond of Cambridge, fyve pounds, praying him to im- ploy the same for the benefit of his sonne and my godsonne : Item, I give mito my godsonne, Richard Clerk, fortie shillings ; and whereas, by the will of Mrs Gardiner, late of London, widdow, deceased, I was desired to dispose a certain some of money, in such manner as in her said will is spe- cified, all w"^ money hath beene accordingly disposed, excepting only fyve pounds, payable unto Mr Sjonons of Katherine Hall, my wiU therefore is that payment be made of the said fyve pounds unto Mr Symonds afore- said ; and to my reverend frende, Dr Gouge, I doe give, as a testimony of my love, twenty shillings, desiring him to take the papies to preach my funerall sermon iff Item, My will is, that my reverend frend, Mr Downeham, shall have two of those bookes of his owne making backe againe w'^'' were by him delivered unto me, and are remayning in my studie at Grayes Inne ; all the rest of my goods and chatties, my funerall, debts, and legacies being payed and discharged, I give unto my brother and kinsman before named — that is to sale, to my brother Thomas Sibbs, and my nephew John Sibbs, formerly menconed, whome, together w*'' John Godbold of Grayes Inne, * PubUshed 1622, and entitled ' A Guide to Godliness ; or, a Treatise of a Chria- tian Life.' The author was John Downame or Downham, B.D., brother of George, Bishop of Derry. He died 1644. t See references in loc. at p. cxxxvii, Appendix A X Sibbes dedicates Culverwell's ' Time Well-spent ' to her, ante p. xciii, seq. g See reference in loc. p. cxxxvii, Appendix A, II Ibid. % Ibid. ** Drs Goodwin and Arrowsmith. tt See Mr Mayor's note in loc. Appendix A, CXXX MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. Esquire, I doe hereby ordajiie, constitute, and appoynt to be the executors of this my last will and testament, giving unto the said Mr Godbould a peece of my owne plate, such as himself shall choose out of that plate of myne, which is now in the custody of the said James Joyner ; and I doe entreate my worthy and very loveing frends, S"" Nathaniel Rich, Sir Natha- niell Barnardiston,-'- and S" William Spring, Knighte,t to be overseers of this my will, desireing my executors, in aU things of difficulty, to be advised by them in the execution of the same ; and as a remembrance of my love to every of the said overseers of my will, I give unto each of them a ring of twentie shillings. — In wittnes whereof I have hereunto set my hand and scale, this fourth daye of July, in the eleaventh yeare of the raigne of our sov'aigne Lord Charles, by the grace of God, Idnge of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, defender of the faith, &c., and in the yeare of om* Lord God 1635. Signed, sealed, and published to be the last wiU and testament of the said Richard Sibbs in the presence of us. Probatum fuit testamentum sup''scriptum apud London coram ven^ viro magistro Willimo Merricke legum doctore : Surrogato ven^'^ viri Domini Henrici Marten militis, legum etiam doctoris, curiiB prerogativae Cantuar. magistri, custodis sive com"" legitime constituti; undecimo die mensis Julii anno Domini millesimo sexcentesimo tricesimo quinto, Juramentis Thomse Sibbs et Johannis Sibbs duorum executorum in senior J testamento nomi- iatorum : Quibus commissa fuit admiuistracio omnium et singulorum bonorum piriu (?) et creditorum dicti defuncti de bene et fideliter adminis- trando eadem ad sancta dei evangelia juratis : Reservata potestate similem commissionem faciendi Johanni Godbould Ar : alteri executor! etiam in senior | testamento nominato cum ven'it eand™ petitum.' His will was drawn up on Saturday the 4th, and then he quietly waited his ' change.' ' Paulisper senex, oculos claude, nam statim lumen Dei videbis ' (' Shut thine eyes a little, old man, and immediately thou shalt see the light of God '§). Thus remembering his kinsmen and friends left behind, even the humblest, and looking upward, he ' walked through the valley of the shadow of death,' and went, from the Sabbath below (it was a Sabbath morning) to the Sabbath above, to ' be with the Lord.' ' Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord. . . . Yea, saith THE Spirit, for they rest from their labours, and their tvorks do follow theon,' Rev. xiv. 13. He died 5th July 1035, in the 58th year of his age. An entry in the ' Register ' of St Andrew's Church, Holborn (within which parish Gray's Inn is situate), tells us he was buried there on the next day : — * Sir Niitliauiel Barnardiston. Tlie ' Rich ' and ' Barnardiston ' families are historic in tlieir warm support of the Puritans. It were superfluous to annotate names that are found in every Puritan 'History.' t Sir William Sprint;;, Knt. Ho was of Pakenham, near Bury St Edmunds, of the ancient family of Lavenham. See Burke's 'Extinct' Baronetcies; also ante page xxvi. J Qu. ' superscripts ?' — Ed, § Sozomen, lib. ii. cap. ii. Stanford's AUeine, p. 21. MEMOIR OF RICHARD SIBBES, D.D. CXXXI 1635. July 6. Kichard Sibbes, D.D., sometime preacher in Gray's Iim, died in his chambers at Gray's Inn, 5th.' * 1. 2. ' Servant of God ! well done ; Tranquil amid alarms, Eest from thy loved employ ; It found him in the field, The battle fought, the victory won, A veteran slumbering on his arms, Enter thy Master's joy.' Beneath his red-cross shield : — The voice at midnight came ; His sword was in his hand. He started up to hear : Still warm with recent fight, A mortal arrow pierced his frame. Keady that moment at command, He fell, — but felt no fear. Through rock and steel to smite. The pains of death are past. Labour and sorrow cease, And life's long warfare closed at last, His soul is found in peace. Soldier of Christ ! well done ; Praise be thy new employ ; And while eternal ages run Eest in thy Saviour's joy. f I would have my readers turn to the perhaps over-garrulous, yet interesting ' reflections ' upon the death of Sibbes,J and add only a few words by Ashe, Church, and Nalton : — * This bright star, who sometimes with his li^^ht refreshed the souls of many of God's people while he shone on the horizon of our church, set, as we say, between the evening of many shadows and the TYiorning of a bright ho^ped-for i^eforviation, which, though for the present (1654) overcast, yet being so agreeable to the mind of Jesus Christ, and ushered in with the groans and prayers of so many of his saints, we doubt not but will in God's own time break forth gloriously, to the dissipating of those clouds and fogs which at the present do eclipse and darken it.' § Even so : — ' God's saints are shining lights ; . . . . Tliey are indeed as pillar-fires. Seen as we go ; They are that city's shining spires We travel to.' || A. B. a * It has been found impossible to identify his grave; no stone, the simplest, marks it. Is there to be no memorial raised? t James Montgomery, 'The Christian Soldier.' Poetical Works, p. 305, ed. I vol. 8vo. 1851. X Appendix A, p. cxxxviii, req. See also B, pp. cxl-xli, in Appendix, for notices of Sibbes's family and name ; and C, p. cxli, for references concerning his suc- cessors at Gray's Inn and Catharine Hall § 'To the Reader,' Heav. Couf. between Christ and Mary, 12mo. 1664. II Vaughan, as ante p. 39. VOL. I. * APPENDIX TO MEMOIR. A, page xxvi, et alibi.— ZACRABY CATLIN. It has been deemed proper to give in full, in this appendix, the * Memoir ' of Sibbes, drawn up by Zachary Catlin (the manuscript of which, as has been stated, is in my possession). Accordingly it is sub- joined, verbatim et literatim from the original holograph with signature. Two copies of this ' Memoir ' are preserved at Cambridge ; one among the Baker MSS. (xxxviii. 441-446) ; the other, recently presented, in Univer- sity Library.* That by Baker has been edited with scrupulous fidelity by Rev. J. E. B. Mayor, M.A. ; and forms one of the ' Communications ' of the Cambridge Antiquarian Society (read December 1. 1856, No. vii. pp. 252-264). It is to be regi-etted that it abounds with the most smgular misreadings ; for which Baker, not Mr Mayor, must be held responsible. Mr Mayor's notes, characteristically full of out-of-the-way reading, are appended. They are marked M. That in University Library, Mr Cooper informs me, ' is a trauscript written about 1750, and contains some slight 'verbal variations from the Baker MS.,' but he adds, ' these variations can be of little value, because the scribe read the olden hand so imperfectly, that he throughout calls the subject of the memoir " Gibbs." ' Of Catlin very little is known beyond the incidental notices of himself and father, in his memoir of Sibbes. The ' Diary of John Bous, incum- bent of Santon Downham, Suffolk, from 1625 to 1642, edited by Mary A. E. Green, (Camden Society, 4to, 1856,)' introduces him thus : — ' Upon Shrovemoonday, February 13. [a.d. 1632], IVIi- Catlin xhirston — preaching at Bury, gave out before his sermon that it was good Mi; CutUn's the ministers of the combination wold meete to consulte of the making of the combination, that those ministers that wold doe good might be put in seasonably for it. I learned since, that a newe-come minister was put in tii'st in the combination, to beginne on Plough Moon- day, but as it seemed would not goe before the graver preachers, and, therefore, lefte the day unprovided ; but Mr Catlin by entreaty, preached at that time, ex improritio, and after wold have beene freed of this his owne time, but could not (thus he said before the sermon), and in his seimon said thus much obiter, which I heard. We are blamed for om- chm-ches, but it is certaine, that these coui'tes extracte more from us than will re- payer our churches, adome them, and keepe them so.' Pp. 68, 69, * A third is in Harl. MSS., 6037, fol. 17. CXXXIV APPENDIX TO MEMOIE. Mr Mayor has overlooked the marginal-note, ' Thirston,' when he asks if our Zachary Catlin were ' the Mr Catlin mentioned by John Rous.' ' Thirston,' i.e., Thurston, gives the answer in the affirmative. Mr Cooper has favoured me with a note of various Catlins of the several colleges, Cambridge. There is a Zachaiy Catlin of Christ's, B.A. 1598, M.A. 1602. This was probably our Zachary. There is a Jonathan Cathn of Catharine-Hall, B.A. 1631, M.A. 1635, who was most likely the son mentioned as cared for by Sibbes. The name, spelled ' Catling' and ' Catlyn,' occurs in Mr Bright's volume {ante page cxxi), as an 'overseer' in the will of one of the Nether-hall Brights, and elsewhere as a ' witness ' (see pp. 108, 128). I have been unable to trace to any library the two sermons published by him {ante page cxxiii). Considerable 'Notes' on the family and name of Catelyne or Catlin (unpublished), will be found in ' Davy's Suflblk Collections,' vol. xlvi. (pp. 312-24). . . . Pedigrees C, Caa — Cha ; Mus. Brit. Jure Emptionis, 19, 122. Plut. clxxvi. E. With these slight memoranda, I beg now to submit, ' Dr Sibbs, his Life, by Zachary Catlin.' At the Request of a Noble Friend, S[ir] W. Spring,* I haue here will- ingly contributed to the happy memory of that worthy man of God Doctour Sibs a few such Flowers, as I could collect, eyther from the certain Rela- tion of those yt knew his first Education, or from mine own observation of him, at that distance, whereat we lived. And if any thing here recorded, Mr Clark of ^^^J Seem convenient for His purpose, who is (as I am in- London.t formed) about to publish the Lives J of some Worthyes lately deceased, I shall think my labour well bestow'd. For I am not of that Philosopher's mind, who lighting upon a Book newly put forth, entitled, The encomium of Hercules, cast it away, saying, Et quis Lacedcemoniorum eum vituperaAdt ? accounting it a needles § work to prayse him, whom noe man did, or could find fault withal. I rather iudge it a commendable thing, to perpetuate and keep Fresh the Memory of such worthy men, whose ex- amples may be of use, for Imitation, ia this declining, and degenerate Age. But I come to the matter. He was born This Richard, the eldest Son of Paul Sibs and Johan, was 5 77. born at Tostock|| in Suifolk, 4 miles from Bmy, anno domini 1577, from whence his Parents soon removed, to a Town adioining, called, Thurston, where they lived in honest Repute, brought up, and maried divers children, purchased some Houses and Lands, and there they both De- ceased. His Father was by his Trade, a Wheelewright, a skilful and painful workman, and a good sound harted Christian. This Richard he brought up to Learning, at the Grammar Schole, though very ^ unwillingly, in re- gard of the charge, had not the youth's strong Inclination to his Book, and wel profiting therein, with some Importunity of Freinds prevailed so far, as to continue him at Schole, til he was fit for Cambridge. Concerning his His industry loue to his Book, and his Industry in study, I cannot omit the in his study. Testimony of M""- Thomas Clark, High Constable, who was * See Prynne's ' Canterb. Doome,' p. 3Y6. — M. t Mr Clark of London. Probably ' Samuel Clarke,' who included a Memoir of Sibbes in his ' Thirty-two lives ' {ante p. xxxvii), without however using Catlin's MS. Perhaps as the volume was published in 1652, and the MS. is dated November 1st of that year, it may not have reached him in time. But neither does any trace of it appear in subsequent editions. — G. J ' Plan ' in Baker, by Mr Mayor. — G. § 'Useless ' in Baker, by Mr Mayor. I designate the remaining mis-readings by M. B.— G. II ' Tastock ' in M. B.— G. % ' Yet ' in M. B.-^G. APPENDIX TO MEMOIK. CXXXV much of the same Age, and went to schole, together with him, at the same Time, w**" one M''- Rich. Brigs (afteru'ard, Head Master of the Free Schole at NoiTvich) then teaching at Pakenham chm-ch. He hath often told me, that when the Boies were dismist from Schole, at the usuall Hom'es of eleuen, and 5, or 6, and the rest would fal to their pastime, and sometimes to plaiing the Waggs with him, being haimlet* and meanly apparel'd, for ye most part in Leather, it was this Youth's constant course, as soon as he could rid himself of their unpleasing company, to take out of his Pocket or Sachel, one Book or other, and so to goe reading t and meditating, til he came to his Father's house, w"*" was neere a mile of, and so as he went to Schole agen. This was his order also, when his Father sent i^^ ^ ^^y^, him to the Free Schole at Bury, 3, or 4 Miles off, every day. ofx.afr,;, nr-. 'Whereby ye said M''- Clark, did then conceive yt he would in ■jroXvfj.a.Cvis. Time prove an excellent and Able man, who of a child was of ^f a's'phi.hir'to such a manly staydnes § and indefatigable industiy in his study, be (IuXotovos, His Father at length gi-ew vveaiy of his expenses for books and — Ascham4 learning, took him from Schole, bought him an Axe and some other tooles, and set him to his own Trade, to the great discontent of the youth, whose Genius wholy caried him another way. Whereupon, M"- Greaves || then Minister of Thurston, and M'- Rushbrook an Attorney there, knowing the disposition and fitnes of the lad, sent him, without his Father's consent, to some of the Fellowes of S*' John's colledge, of their acquaintance, with their Letters of Recommendation, where, upon examination, he was Hisprofiting so wel approved off, that he was presently entertained as a Sub- inCambr. sizar, shortly after chosen Scholer of the House, and at length came to be Fellow of ye Colledge,^ and one of the Taskers of ye University, His Father being hardly brought to allow him 20 Nobles a yeare toward his maintenance in Cambr. , to which some good friends in the country, M"". 6rreaves,** M''. Knew- stub,f t and some others, made some addition, for a Time as need required. Anno domini 1608, I came to be Minister of Thurston, and he was then a Fellow of the Colledge, and a Preacher of good Note in Cambr., and weef| soon grew §§ wel acquainted, for whensoeuer he came down into ye Country, to visit his Mother and brethren (his Father being deceased) he would never faile to preach with us, ||j| on the Lords day, and for the most part, twice, telling me, that it was a work of charity, to help a constant and painful preacher, for so he was pleased to conceiue of me. And If there were a Communion appointed at any Time, he would be sm'e not to with- draw himselfe after seimon, but receiving the Bread and wine at my hands, he would always assist me in the distribution of ye cup to the congregation. As for his kindnes to his kindred,^! IF and neglect of the world, His uindnes it was veiy remarkable, for this I can testify of my own know- a°d hiss"n'^u' ledge, that purchasing of M""- Tho. Clark, and others in our lar neuiect of Town, a Mesuage and Lands, at seueral times, to the value of J^woiid. fifty pounds per annum, he paid the Fines to the Lords, but never took one peny of the Rents or profits of them, but left the Benefit wholly to his * • Humble ' in M. B.— G. f ' Studying ' in M. B.— G. t Not given in M. B.— G. g - Stryde ' in M. B.— G. || ' Gwinn ' in M.B.— G. \ ' That house ' in M. B.— G. ** ' Graves ' in M. B — G. ft See Brook's ' Puritans,'vol. ii. p. 308, seq. ; Clarke's ' Lives of Thirty-two Eng- lish Divines,' ed. 1677, p. 133; Geffrey Whitney's ' Emblems,' p. 223 ; Bancrofts •Daungerous Positions,' pp. 5, 57 (Bk. 2, c. 10), 44 (Bk. 3, c. 2), 120, 122, 143; Sutcliffe's ' Answere to Throckmorton,' p. 47 ; Prynne's • Cantcrb. Doome,' p. 376. — M. XX ' Was ' in M. B.— G. ?g ' Grown ' in M. B.— G. nil ' Me ' in M. B.— G. «il^ ' Friends ' iu M. B.— G. CXXXVl APPENDIX TO IVIEMOIR. Mother, and his 2 Brethren,* as long as he Uued. So much did this Heavenly-minded Man of God slight this present world (which the most men are so loth to part withal, when they Dye) that he freely and undesired, parted with it, whilst he lined, requiring nothing of them, but only to be liberal to the poore. Nay ouer and besides, if any faithful honest man came down from Cambridge or London, where he liued, by whom he might conveniently send, he seldome or never fayled to send his Mother a Peice of Gold, for the most part, a ten shillings Piece, but 5 shillings was the least, and this he continued as long, as his Mother liued. And would she haue been persuaded to exchange her Country Life for the citty, he often told me, yt he would willingly have maintain' d her there, in good view and fashion, like his Mother, but she had no mind to alter her accustomed course of Life, in her old daies, contenting her self with her own Meanes, and that Addition, w''*' her Son made thereunto. His special -^^^ ^^^ ^^^ Special liindnes to my self, in particular, I can- kindness to not omit, that being Trusted by Personages of Quality, with diners sumes of mony, for pious and charitable uses, he was pleased, among many others, not to forget Me. At one Time he sent me down three Twenty shillings peices of gold inclosed in a Letter : and at 2 other Times, deliver[ed] me, with his own hand, two Twenty shilling pieces His singular more : and so far was this Humble Saint fi-om Pharisaical humility. ostentation, and vain glory, and from taking the honour of these good works to himself, that he plainly told me, that these Gratuities were not of his own cost, but being put in Trust, and f left to his own Discretion, in the distribution, he lookt upon Mee as One, that took great Paines in my ministry, and in teaching Scholers, and at that Time Labour- ing under the Burden of a great charge of children, and so thought me a fit object of their intended charity. And from myselfe His love descended down to my Son, for my sake, for whom I (before he had euer seen him, being ihen at the Grammar Schole at Bury) he, then chosen M"' of Katherin Hal, promis'd me a SchoUership there, of 5 pound a yeare, and to provide for His reality ^^^ ^ Tutour and a chamber. And such was his constancy of in his pro. spirit, and his Reality, that whatsoeuer promise he made me, liciHs dives he would be sure, both to Remember it, and to make it good, quiiibetisesse ^s freely as he first made it, that was, unaskt and undesired: potest. Q , and for these manj-fold kindnesses, all that he desired at my hands, was no more but this, that I would be careful of the soules of my people, and in special of his Mother, his Brethren, and his sisters, and would give them good counsel, in their disposing themselves in Marriage, or upon any other occasion, as I saw, they stood in need. And this one thing, I may not passe over, concerning myself, that in his last wil and Testament, he gave me a Legacy of 40 sh. with the Title of his Loving Freind, w°^ I the rather mention, because I had not the least thought, to haue been in yt sort remembred by him, at his Death, lining j] at no lesse distance from him, then of three score miles. In a word, such was the Loneliness of this sweets seruant of God, such his learning, parts, piety, prudence, humility, sin- cerity, Lone and meeknes of Spirit (whereof euery one was a Lodeston to attract unto, and fasten my spirit, close to his) that (I professe ingeniiously) no man yt ouer I was acquainted withal, got so far into my hart, or lay** * ' Brothers ' in M. B., and so c4scwhcre. § Not in M. B. t ' As ' in M. B.— G II ' Being ' in M. B.— G. X ' For wliom ' droi>pccl in M. B. — G. ^ ' Same ' in M. B. — G. ** 'Was'inM. B.— G. APPENDIX TO MEMOIR. CXXXVU SO close therein : So that many Times I could not part fi-om him, with dry eyes. But who am I ? or what is it to be belov'd of me, especially for Him, that had so many and so great Friends, as he had ? yet even to Me, the great God is pleased to say. My son give me thy Heai't, pmv. 23 2«. and this poor and contrite hart, I know, he wil not despise, ^sai. 51. 17. And this Hart of mine, as small as it is, yet is too great, to close with a Proud, Profane, worldly, mahcious hart, though it be in a Prince. But true* Vertue and Grace, are the Image of God himself, and where they are discerned f by AVisdom's children, they command the Hart, and are truly louely and venerable, whereas Carnal, vitious, and unmortified Aifections (whereof this Man of God, was as Free, as any man, I know lining) they do render a man (whateuer he bee), if not hateful and contemptible, yet at least less louely and honourable. But my Love to this good Man hath transported me beyond my pm-pose, w"^ was to speake of some things, lesse visible to others, especially concerning his first Education : for when he came to the University and the Citty, there his Life, and Actions were upon a publick Theatre, and his own works, without a Trmnpet, prov. 31. 31 would prayse him in the Gates. As for his kindnes to his and 23. kindi'ed, and to my selfe, I know none, yt took more notice of them, then I, and therefore I could not hide them from the juiy oth ibss world (upon this occasion) without some kind of Sacriledge. aetut 08. But from his Life, I passe to his Death, and the disposing of his worldly estate, wherein are some things very Remarkable, and coming to my certain knowledge and observation, I neyther wil, nor dare I conceal them. His Death was some what soden ; for having preach't at Graye's Inne, upon the Lords Day, on that sweet Text, Job. xiv. 1, 2, 'Let not HisCygnea your Harts be troubled, ye belieue in God, BeUeve also in me. Cantio vei In my Father's House are many Mansions,' as if he had presag'd his own Death, he fel sick that very night, and died on ye Tuesday|| following, being the 5^^ of July a.d. 1635. ^Etatis suse 58, his Physitian, that knew his Body bestH being then out of ye Citty ; yet having his senses, and some respite of Time, as he set his Soule, so he set his House in order, re\'ising his former will, and altering, what he thought fitt to be altered. And first, he Bequeathed and commended -=* his Soule, into the hands of his gracious Saviour, who Redeemed it, with his most precious Blood, and appeared then in heaven, to receive it. He gave him humble thanks, that he had vouchsafed him, to be . Note. born, and to live, in the Best Times of the Gospel, (mark this) and to have his Interest in the comfort of it. As also that he had vouch- safed him the Honour of being a Publisher of it, with some measure of Faithfulnes (mark this, you that contemne ye office of the ministry). His Body he ordered to be buried, at the pleasure of his Executors. And for his worldly estate, wherewith God had blessed him, he thus disposed of it. His House and Lands at Thurston, disposed his to the value of 50 lib. a year, or more, he gave to his young- lamisandper- est and only Brother then lining, Thomas Sibs, for ye terme of his natural Life, and the Remainder to John Sibs, the son of John, his second Brother deceased : and between these two, he diuided all his * ' This ' in M. B.— G. f ' Discovered ' in M. B.— G. X ' Doe ' in M. B.— G. § This is the title given to Whitaker's last ' sermon,' published 1599, 4to. — G. II This is a slip for 8unday. See Memoir, page cxxx., and title-page of ' last ser- mons,' in this volume. — G. f ' Best ' in M. B.— G. ** ' Committed ' in M. B.— G. CXXXVlll APPENDIX TO MEMOIR personal estate, which clearly amounted to 650 lib. (his large Legacies, and funeral charges being discharged' and satisfied) making them, ye exequestors of his Wil and Test*. To the children of his 3 sisters deceased he gave 110 lib. To other poore kindred 13 lib. To his faithful Sen'ant, James Joynar, 10 lib. To other 5 in London, 5 lib. To the poore of the parishes of Trinity and S'- Andrew's in Cambridge, 5 Ub. To the poore of the Parish of Thurston, and of the parish, where he should be buried, 2 lib. To the Steward of Grayes Inne, 8 lib. To the 3 cheife Butlars, 3 lib. To their Servants, 1 lib. To the chiefe Cook, a Ring of 10 sh. To his under Servants, 1 lib. To his deare and worthy Friend M'. Jo. Pym,=;= a Ring of 2 lib. To S'. Rob'- Brook f of Langley, his Legacies Lady, and Brother, 3 Rings of 6 lib. To Mr. Stephens]; a Ring given out 288 of 2 lib. To IVP Capell,§ Preacher, 1 lib. To his loving friend lib. 10 sh. ^^ Catlin, Preacher of Thurston, 2 lib. To Mr. Almond of Cambr. for his Son (ye Doctours Godson), 5 lib. To his Godson Rich**- Clark, 2 lib. To Mr. Gouge || of London, v/hom he requested to preach at his Funeral, 1 lib.lf To S"- Nath. Rich;** to S""- Nath. Barnardiston ;ff and to S""- W"- Spring, Supervisors of his will, 3 Rings of 3 lib. To M"- Mary Moore, a Ring of 2 hb. To Mr. Jo. Godbold of Gray's Inn Esq., one of ye exequatours of his Will, the best peice of plate he had, valued at 10 lib. To Katherin-Hal in Cambr, for the setling of a Scholarship of 4 lib. per annum for ever, 100 lib. All -wich Legacies amount to the total summe of 288 lib. 10 sh. His eniarg- Durmg the Time yt he was M''. of Kath-Hal, he was the ing Katherin Meane by his great friends, of buying in the Inne, adioininge ye CoUedge, called The Bull, and so of enlarging the Buildings of the CoUedge, to the value of 600 lib. as I am informed : But I leave this toll ^ melius Inquirendum.. what a Pious and charitable disposition do these things discouer, in this precious Saint, to be had in everlasting Remembrance. * Besides the common sources for Pym's life, consult the ' Charisteria and Epist Eucharist.' of Degory Whear, his tutor and acquaintance of many years' standing. ' Charist.' Dedn. and pp 101, 102; ' Epist. Eucharist.' Nos. 21 — 28. Pym was a friend and connection of Brownrigg's. B's ' Life,' pp. 190, 191.— M. t Sir Robert Brook of Langley, his Lady .... See ' Dedication ' of ' Fountain Sealed ' [ante page cxix) — G. X Dr Stephens, editor of ' Statius,' Master of Bury ? ' Life of Isaac Milles,' 1721, pp. 8-12, 74.— M. § Richard Capel, Wood's ' Athense,' ed. Bliss, iii. 421, Clark's ' Lives' (as above), p. 303 seq.—K. II Dr Wm. Gouge. See his life in Clark (as above), p. 234 seq., Harwood's ' Alumni Etonenses,' p. 202, Wm. Lilly's ' Life,' ed. 1774, p. 29, Prynne's ' Canterb. Doome,' p. 3G2, Life of Row' in Clark's ' Lives of Eminent Persons,' (1688), pt. ii. p. 106, Brook's ' Lives of the Puritans,' iii. 165, seq. — M. Also 'Memoir' prefixed to his Exposition of ' Hebrewes,' folio, 1655, vol. i. — G. % From a tract bound in the volume marked R. 10. 16 in the University Library of Cambridge (p. 525) it appears that 10s. was commonly charged to the poor, and 20s. to the rich, for a funeral sermon. Tlie tract contains the answer of George Finch (a Cambridge man, brother to Lord Fincli) to the articles against him a.d. 1641.— M. ** See Birch's James L, vol. ii., p. 55, and Whear's ' Charisteria,' p. 127. — M. ft See his life in Clarke's ' Lives of Eminent Persons,' (1083), pt. ii., \\ 105, seq. Cf. ibid. pp. 161, 163, 169, 172, 175 ; Calamy's 'Account,' pp. 636, 637 ; 'Coutin.'p. 786.— M. X% The Black Bull was given by will to Cath. Hall by Dr Gostlin, for the found- ing of six scholars, &c.— M. APPENDIX TO MEMOIR. CXXXIX I shal conclude with an Observation, v/"^ I made of the Time, ■when this holy man, and some other Godly and precious his death, isa. Divines, were taken out of this world, by the wise Providence ^^' ^' of God. Tis that of ye Prophet Is : 57, i. That Eighteous and merciful men are taken away, from the Evill to come. They enter into Peace, and rest in their Graues, as in Beds of Sleep. Thus ye Lord said, 2 k. 22. 19, concerning good Josia, I wil gather thee to the Fathers, and 20. thou shalt go to thy Grave in Peace, And thine eyes shall not see all ye Evil, w'** I wil bring upon this place. In like manner, the Lord took away, about the same Time, with this Reverend man diuers, that their eyes might not see that great Evils, then ready to break out, upon these 3 kingdoms. To instance in some few, C- Sibs died July 5, 1635 ; M"^- Sam. d,- sibs, Mr Ward,* that Worthy Preacher of Ipswich, was censured in the ^*™- ^^' *'"'*• High commission, and silencet in October follow^ ye same yeare 1635, and died, as I remember 1638. The Irish Rebelhon, the slaughter of 100,000 Protestants in a yeare, the long, fatal war, between the Iving and ParP. M''- Rogers f also, that Zealous and powerful Preacher of Mr Rogers Dedham in Essex, died Octob : 15 : 1636. And I may not ^^i^edham. forget my own father also, W- Robert Catlin, I an aged and a '^^F Uobert faithfuU Minister in Rutlandshire, about four score yeares old died July 24 : 1637 : who Being unable any longer to serue his great Pastoral cure, he came over to Barham, neere Ipswich, to dy amongst his children (here) in Suffolk : who lying on his sick Bed, heard M""- Fentou, a Minister relating the Heavy censure, that was then newly passed upon the Bishop of Lincoln, and Deane of Westminster, Doctour Wil- ^^ wiiuams liams, reputed at that Time a very good Man, whom my Father cast into ye knew to be a great Freind to the Good ministers in his Diocese, °^ ^' and a gi-eat enimy to the setting the Tables Altarwise, and to the Altar worship, w"*" then began to be much advocated, and one that had done many munificent works of charity, and had given yearely a great summe to the Releife of the Lady Elizabeth. The Bishop, by the malice of Ai-ch- bishop Laud and others his enemies, was suspended in the High Commis- sion ab officio or beneficio, censiu'ed in the Star-Chamber, fined 10,000 lib. and cast into the Towre of London about July 15, 1637 : from whence he was fetchet out the beginning of this Pari*- Nov. 3d, 1640, with gi-eat applause. My Father, I say, hearing of this Bishop's censure (wherein my Brother Wm. Catlin, a minister was deeply concerned, as being a wit- ness for ye Bishop), He brake out into these words, before the 2 Ministers, and others then present in the chamber. Alas poore England, thou hast now seen thy best dales ; I that am 4 score yeares old, and I have in al my time seene no alteration in Religion, nor any foreign Enemy setting * See Brook's ' Lives of the Puritans,' vol. ii. p. 452, seq., -with the authors there cited; also Heyliu's ' Cyprianus Angl.' p. 120, seq.; Prynne's ' Canterb. Doome.' pp. 157, 159, 361, 375 ; Birch's ' James I.,' voL ii. pp. 226, 228, 282 ; Clark's ' Lives of Eminent Persons' (1683), pt. ii. pp. 154, 159 ; D'Ewes' ' Autobiography,' vol i. p. 249 ; Calamy's ' Account,' p. 636 — M. Also Mr Ryle"s Memoir, prefixed to his 'Sermons' in present series (see Adams's, iii.). — G. t See his life in Brook's ' Lives of the Puritans,' vol. ii. p. 421 : and Bastwick's 'Utter Routing.' p. 474, Prynne's 'Canterb. Doome,' pp. 363, 373, Calamy's 'Ac- count,' p. 606, Clark's ' Lives of Eminent Persons ' (1683), p. 64 (Life of Blackerby), Mather's ' Life of T. Hooker,' p. 8, Mather's ' Life of John Cotton,' pp. 24, 25.— M. Also Chester's ' John Rogers' . . . pages 245, seq. (1 vol. 8vo, 1861).— G. % This account has been printed in Brook's 'Lives of the Puritans,' vol. iL pp. 428, 429.— M. Cxl APPENDIX TO MEMOIK. foot in England, nor any Ciuil wars, amongst ourselves, do now forsee euil daies a comming. But I shal go to the grave in Peace. Blessed be that God, whom I have served, who hath accepted my weake service, and wil be mine exceeding great reward. And within a few houres, he departed this Life, and lies Buried in the Chauncell of the Parish Church at Bar- ham, Doctour Young of Stow Market,* preaching at his Funeral : and as he Blessed God (with D"- Sibs) yt he had lived in the best Times of the Gospel, so there was no great difference in the Time of their death. And shortly after the death of these men were those sparkles of discontent kindled between the Scots and us, w'^'' were the sad Prasludia, or beginnings of this late Universal Conflagration. The Iving went against aga/ns^ ^^ye the Scots, as far as York, in March 1638 : and the Scots were Scots. March proclaimed Traitours in the Churches of England, in April following, and though this Proclamation were revoked, yet who knows not, what Tragical events have follow'd in al the 3 Kingdoms, to this very day,f to the astonishment of Heaven and Earth. This is ye very observation of Reverend Beza in his 70th Epistle : That as often as God kindleth and setteth vp these Lights (men of singular graces and special use in ye church) so often he testifies his good wil to y°'^ Times and Places in a certen special and peculiar manner. But when he extinguishes these Lights and puts them out, it must be accounted as an evident testimony of his sore Displeasure. For (saith he) it is apparant in al Histories that when greivous Tempests are comming upon a People, The Lord is wont to withdraw his especial servants into the Haven beforehand, w'''' agrees with y* of ye Prophet Isay 2. 2, 3, 5. Behold ye Lord wil take away out of Judah and Jerusalem ye Judges and ye Prophets ; the Wise man and ye Councellour and ye Honourable : and the People shal bee oppressed one of another etc. And no marvel, for such men are the TO xan^oc . . . meanes as a shield to keep off the wi-ath of God from Gen. 7. 16. the Places where they live. The Lord with held the Flood 11- 13- of Avaters from ye old world, til Noah was safely shut up in the Ark, and the very selfe same day (saith the Text) were the Fountaines of the Deep broken up and the windowes of Heaven opened. The Gen. 13. 22. Angel told Lot he could do nothing against wicked Sodom, till 2Ciiion.34. he was got out of that place. The Lord held off the king of , an o . ]3,.i|)iion from beseiging Jerusalem til good Josia was at rest. Josephus. And ere the Roman Army sate down before it, the Lord by a Miracle warned the Chiistian Jewes to remove from thence to Augustine. Pella. Again, no sooner was that worthy Bishop of Hippo St Augustin deceased, but the Citty was taken and sacked by the Goths M Luther. ^^^^ Vaudals. No sooner was Martin Luther translated to a better Life, but the Smalcaldick warre brake out w*'' wasted almost al the Protestants in Germany. No sooner was that . areus. -wrorthy man, aged Pareus taken from Heydelberg, but presently Marques Spinola with his Ai-my entered the Town. And no sooner had the Lord taken awaj' these worthy Divines, but presently the Fire of war Pal 11 3 ^^^^ confusion (a iust punishment for our great and ciying sins) brake out upon these 3 nations. For if the Foundations (of Religion and Government) be cast down and destroy'd, what can the Righteous do. The voice of wise men is not heard in the cry of Fooles : The counsel of moderate and unbiased men is not regarded in such a * Tlio celebrated Scottish tutor and friend of John Milton. t From 'very day,' ou to 'The Lord in Mercy,' not in M.-B. — G. APPENDIX TO MEMOIR. CxK Tempest of clamour, violence, and confusion. Sucli men would liave been slighted and lay'd aside in such Times as these. The Lord therefore hath put them into then- safe harbour and Haven of Rest, while wee that sm-vive are tossed to and fro upon the turbulent Eurypus of Anabaptistical, An- archical, Fanatical, and Atheistical ban-etings and Vittlitigations.* The Lord in Mercy vouchsafe to stil the Raging of the waters, pa. 65. 7. and the madnes of (that many headded monster*) the People, isay. 39. 8. that once more his faithful Servants in these 3 Nations, may Matt: 8. 25. enjoy a blessed calm. That there may yet once again, be Peace and Truth in our Dales. Lord save us, or we perish. Compiled and attested, by Zachary Catlin, Minister of Thurston, Nov. 1. 1652 : Anno fetatis 69 : currente. (I have presented Catlin's MS. to ' University Library,' Cambridge). B, pages xxix and cxxxi.— SIBBES'S FAMILY AND NAME. The Will of Sibbes {ante p. cxxviii, seq.), enumerates various relatives deceased and alive. His father had died before 1608, and his mother, Catlin informs us, also predeceased him. Dr Sibbes himself never married, perhaps through the ' order ' of Gray's Inn, that forbad its ' preacher ' to marry. The name seems to have utterly died out, not in Sufiblk merely, but everywhere. While all the other Puritans of this Series are living names, I have failed to trace any Sibbes beyond 1737. No doubt the blood has been transmitted in the issue of the several sisters named in the ' Will.' The foUowuig mei)wmbiUa from the sources enumerated above each, con- tain all that I have been able to collect about the family and name. I. Catharine-Hall ' Registers.' (1.) John Sibbes, B.A. 1635 (mentioned in ' WiU '). (2.) Richard . . . B.A. 1664, M.A. 1668. (See entry in Thurston ' Register,' Mo. 2.) (3.) Robert . . . B.A. 1675. (4.) Richard . . . B.A. 1716. II. Tostock ' Registers.' The merest fragment of the ' Registers ' of Tostock has been preserved ; and the first occurrence of the name of Sibbes therein, it will be observed, is long posterior to his death. 1. Hannah Sibbs, the daughter of Thomas Sibbs (probably a grand- nephew), and Elizabeth his wife, was baptized the 6th day of January 1679. 2. Francis, ye daughter of Thomas Sibbes and Elizabeth his mfe, was baptized ye 5th of June 1683. *^* See an entry from Thurston * Register,' of her marriage. 3. Richard, the son of Thomas Sibbs and EUzabeth his wife, was bap- tized May ye 1st 1688. From the ' deaths ' we find ' Thomas Sibbes was bmied January ye 18th 1690,' and * Elizabeth Sibbes, widow, was buried, August 9th 1706.' 4. John Nunn and Sarah Sibbes (probably a grand-neice), both of this parish, were married, April 12. 1697. Of this marriage were born : — (1.) Mary, ' baptized December ye 80th 1702.' (2.) John, * baptized January ye 9th 1706.' (Died in a few days.) (3.) Esther, ' baptized May ye 26th 1708.' « Qu. 'Vile litigations?'— Ed. CXlii APPENDIX TO MEMOIR. Of ' Sarah Sibbes ' ^= Mrs Nunn, we read, ' Sarah, the wife of John Nunn of Thurston, was buried here, April 28th 1719.' A ' Frances Nunn of Rattlesden, was buried, Feb. 18. 1725.' A third branch is as follows : — 5. ' John Limner of Chevington, and Ehzabeth Sibbes (probably another gi'and-niece), of this town, were married, August ye 23d 1700.' There was issue : — ' Esther, daughter of John Limner and Elizabeth his wife, . . baptized Octob. ye 15th 1701.' III. Thurston ' Registers,' as Tostock. Only two occurrences of the name of Sibbes are found : — 1. Titulus Matrimonii, 1707. ' Robert Steggles of Tostock, and Frances Sibbes of Thurston, married, Ap. 23.' (See under Tostock, No. 2.) 2. ' Mr Richard Sibbes, clerk, rector of Gedding65 years, aged 93, Feb. 2. 1737.' This was doubtless the * Richard ' of the Cambridge list (supra No. 2). He was probably non-resident. Li the ' registers ' of Gedding, only one entry during the whole period of his incumbency, bears his signature as ' rector.' IV. Bright's ' Brights of Suffolk ' [ante pp. Ixxxv— vi). In the family papers of ' the Netherhall Family,' John Sibbes, no doubt he Doctor's nephew, appears as a 'witness' in a dispute about a 'meadow' (page 127). On the back of a letter (January ye 6th 1703), is a memor- andum by Thomas Bright, relating to accounts and rents, under the heads of Thurston, Pakenham, Barton, and Tostock, in which, among others, occur the names of ' John, Robert, and Thomas Sibbes,' perhaps ' tenants' on the estate. Finally, in a letter, ' June 10. 1729,' a Mr Howard writes to the famous beauty, ' Mary Bright,' that ' yesterday he view^ Mr Sibbs' copy- hold lands, held of her manor.' C, page cxxvi.— SUCCESSORS OF SIBBES IN HIS OFFICES. 1. ' Pkeachek,' Gray's Inn. !18th November 1635. Hannibal Potter, Dr of Divinity, chose preacher. 9th February 1641. Mr Jackson is chose lecturer, to preach twice of a Sunday. 28th May 1647. Mr Horton chose preacher. 13th January 1662. Mr Caley, preacher and lecf of this Society, if he please to accept thereof. 12th November 1662. Mr Cradock chose lecf, w**" same allowance as Mr Wilkins. 2. ' Master,' Catherine Hall, Cambridge. There was a keen contest for the ' Mastership.' The subsequently cele- brated Bishop Brownrig was appointed. For interesting notice, with refer- ences, of Brownrig, and for the papers relating to the disputes, consult Mr Mayor's ' Autobiography of Matthew Robinson ' (pp. 130-146) ; also * Garrard's Letter to Strafford (September 1. 1635, Strafford's Letters, vol. i. p. 462). ¥ A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. NOTE. The title-page, ■which is given below,* of the original and only early edition of the ' Description of Christ ' bears, it will be observed, that it consists of tho ' lead- ing — i. e., introductory — sermons to that treatise called the Bruised Reed.' Hence its position in our reprint. It seemed proper to place the two together. The ' Description,' as having been published posthumously, will not compare in finish with the more famous ' Bruised Reed,' and, indeed, occasionally (as at p 6, line 10 from bottom, p. 13, line 8 from bottom), partakes very much of the nature of those ' notes ... by some who had not perfectly taken them,' to which Sibbes deprecatingly refers in his address to the ' Christian reader,' prefixed to the latter. Still, in substance, if not in composition, the ' Description ' is valuable ; and having been published in the ' Beams of Divine Light ' according ' to the doctor, his own appointment,' it carries his authority. It is to be hoped that in no after-reprints will the ' Description ' and ' Bruised Reed ' be disjoined. G, f * Original Title page — A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. His neerenesse to God, His calling. ^ His qualification. His execution of his calling. In three Sermons. Being the leading Sermons to that Trea- tise called the Bruised Reed, preached upon the precedent words. By the late Reverend and learned Di- vine, Richard Sibs, Doctor in Divinitie, Master of Katherine Hall in Cambridge, and sometimes Preacher at Grayes Inne. Isa. 61. 1. The Spirit of tho Lord God is upon me, because the Lord hath annoynted mo to preach good tidings unto the meeke. London. Printed by G. M. for N. Bourne and R. Harford, and are to be sold at the south entrance of the Royall Exchange, and at the guilt Bible in Queenes-head- Alley in Pater-noster-row. MDCXXXIX. t Throughout the present edition of Sibbes, those foot-notes without any signature or initial belong to tho author or his original editors. For all others prefixed or subjoined to the several treatises, &c.. having G. attached, tho Editor is responsible. A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. Behold my seirant, wJiom I have chosen ; my beloved, in whom my sold is icell pleased: I ivill put my Sjnrit upon him, and he shall shew judgment to the Gentiles. He shall not strive, nor cry; neither shall any man hear his voice in the streets, &c. — Matt. XII. 18. The words are the accomplishment of a prophecy, taken out of Isaiah xUi. 1, 2, as we may see by the former verse, ' that it might be fulfilled.' Now the occasion of bringing them in here in this verse, it is a charge that Christ gives, verse 16, that they should not discover and make him known for the miracles he did. He withdraws himself; he was desu-ous to be concealed, he would not live to the view over much, for he knew the re- bellious disposition of the Jews, that were willing to change their govern- ment, and to make him king ; therefore, he laboured to conceal himself all kind of ways. Now, upon this charge, that they should tell nobody, he brings m the prophet Isaiah prophesying of him, * Behold my servant, &c. ; he shaU not strive nor cry, neither shall any man hear his voice in the streets.' Other kings labour that their pomp and magnificence may be seen ; but he shall not mind ostentation, he shall not be contentious nor clamorous. For these three things are meant when he saith, ' he shall not strive, nor cry, neither shall his voice be heard in the streets ;' he shall not yield to any ostentation, for he came in an abased state to work our salvation ; he shall not be contentious, nor yet clamorous in matter of wrong ; there shall be no boasting any kind of way, as we shaU see whe^' we come to the words. You see, then, the inference here. The inference in the prophet Isaiah is to comfort the people, and to direct them how to come to worship the true God, after he had declaimed against their idolatry, as we see in the former chapter, ' Behold my ser- vant,' &c. Great princes have their ambassadors, and the great God of heaven hath his Son, his servant in whom he dehghts, through whom, and by whom, all intercourse between God and man is. It is usual in the prophecies, especially of Isaiah, that evangelical pro- phet, when he foretells anything comfortable to the people, in the promise of temporal things, he riseth to stabhsh their faith in better tilings, by adding thereto a prophecy, and promise of Christ the Messiah, to insinuate thus much, I will send you the Messiah, that is a greater gift than this that I have promised you ; therefore you may be sure of the less, as the apostle 4 A DESCEIPTION OF CHKIST. reasons excellently, ' If he spared not his own son, but delivered him to death for us all, how shall he not with him give us all things ?' Rom. viii. 32. "So here, I have promised you deliverance out of Babylon, and this and that ; do you doubt of the performance ? Alas ! what is that in com- parison of a greater favour I intend you in Christ, that shall deliver you out of another manner of Babylon ? ' Behold my servant whom I have chosen ;' and in Isaiah vii. 14, ' Behold a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son,' &c. I will send you the Messiah ; God shaU become man ; there- fore, I will not stand for any outward favour or deliverance whatsoever. So he goes to the grand promise, that they might reason from the greater to the less. There is another end, why in other promises there is mention of the pro- mise of the Messiah, to uphold their faith. Alas ! we are unworthy of these promises, we are laden with sin and iniquity. It is no matter, I will send you the Messiah. ' Behold my servant in whom my soul delighteth,' and for his sake I will delight in you. I am well pleased with you, because I am well pleased in him ; therefore, be not discouraged. 'AH the pro- mises are yea and amen in Jesus Christ,' 2 Cor. i. 19 ; for all the promises that be, though they be for the things of this life, they are made for Christ, they are yea in him, and they are perfoiTQed for his sake, they are amen in him. So much for the occasion of the inference in the evangelist St Matthew, and likewise in the prophet Isaiah. To come more directly to the words, ' Behold my sers-ant whom I have chosen, my beloved in whom my soul is well pleased,' &c. In the words you have a description of Christ, his nearness to God: ' Behold my servant whom I have chosen, my beloved in whom my soul is well pleased.' And then his calling and qualification : ' 1 will put my Spirit upon him.' And the execution of that calling : ' He shall shew judgment to the Gentiles.' Then the quiet and j^eaceaMe manner of the execution of his calling : ' He shall not strive nor cry, neither shaU any man hear his voice in the streets,' &c. Behold ! — This word is as it were a beacon lighted up to all the rest. In all the evangelists you have this word often repeated, and the prophets likewise when they speak of Christ ; there is no prophecy ahnost but there is this word, ' Behold.' Why ? Not to spend time in the variety of acceptions (= acceptations), but to speak of it as may serve for the present purpose. The use of it in the prophet, especially out of which these words are taken, was to pre- sent Christ to the hearts of the people of God then ; therefore, he saith, * Behold,' for Christ was present to the believers then; he did profit before he was, he did good before he was exhibited, because he was ' the Lamb of God slain fi-om the beginning of the world,' Rev. xiii. 8 ; he was yesterday as well as to-day, and to-morrow as well as to-day, * yesterday, to-day, and the same for ever,' Heb. xiii. 8 ; he was present to their faith, and present to them in types and sacrifices, and present in God's acceptation of him for them ; therefore, the prophets mount up with the wing of prophecy, and in regard of the certainty of the things to come, they speak as if they were present, as if they had looked on Christ present, ' Behold my servant,' and ' Behold a virgin,' &c. But that is not all. Another use of this word ' behold,' was to call the people's minds from their miseries, and from other abasing objects that dejected them, and might force despair. Wliy do you dwell upon your unworthincss and sin ? raise up your mind, ' Behold my servant whom I A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. have chosen,' &c. This is an object -worth beholding and admu-ation, especially of a distressed soul that may see in Chiist whatsoever may com- fort it. A third end of it is to raise the mind from any vulgar, common, base contents. •'■= You look on these things, and are carried away with common trivial objects, as the poor disciples when they came to the temple ; they stood wondering at the stones. 'What wondrous stones ! what goodly build- ing is here! Mark xiii. 1. So shallow-minded men, they see any eai'thly excellencj', they stand gazing. Alas, saith Christ, do you wonder at these things ? So the prophet here I'aiseth up the minds of men to look on an object fit to be looked on, ' Behold my sei-vant,' &c. So that the Holy Ghost would have them from this saving object, Christ, to raise satisfaction to their souls every way. Are you dejected ? here is comfort ; are you sinful ? here is righteousness ; are you led away with present contentments ? here you have honom-s, and pleasures, and all in Christ Jesus. You have a right to common pleasures that others have, and besides them you have interest to others that are everlasting pleasures that shall never fail, so that there is nothing that is dejecting and abasing in man, but there is comfort for it in Christ Jesus ; he is a salve for every sore, a remedy for every malady ; therefore, ' Behold my servant.' This word ' behold,' it is a word of wonderment, and, indeed, in Christ there are a world of wonders, everything is wonderful in him. Things new and wonderful, and things rare, and things that are great, that tran- scend our capacity, are wonderful, that stop our understanding that it cannot go through them. Vulgar things, we see through them quickly, but when we see things that stay our understandings, that raise our understand- ings higher, and that are more capacious than our understandings, here is matter of admiration and wonder. Now whatsoever may make wonderment is in Jesus Christ, whose name is Wonderful, as it is in Isa. ix. 7 ; there- fore the prophet saith, ' Behold.' My servant. — Christ is called a servant, first, in respect of his creation, because being a man, as a creature he was a servant. But that is not all. He was a ser^^ant in respect of his condition. Servant implies a base and low condition, Philip, ii. 7. Chiist took upon him the foiTU of a servant ; he emptied himself ; he was the lovrest of all servants in con- dition : for none was ever so abased as our glorious Saviour. And then, it is a name of office, as well as of base condition. There are ordinary servants and extraordinaiy, as great kings have their servants of state. Christ besides his abasement, he was a servant of state, he was an ambassador sent from the great God ; a prophet, a priest, and a king, as we shall see afterwards ; an extraordinary servant, to do a piece of service that all the angels in heaven, and all the men on the earth joined together, could not perform. This great master-piece of service was to bring God and man together again, that were at variance, as it is, 1 Peter iii. 18, ' to bring us to God.' We were sevei'ed and scattered fi-om God.- His office was to gather us together again, to bring us aU to one head again, to bring us to himself, and so to God, to reconcile us, as the Scripture phrase is, Col. i. 20. Now, it being the greatest work and service that ever was, it requu'ed the greatest servant ; for no creature in the world could perform it. All the angels of heaven would have sunk under this service, to have undergone satisfaction to divine justice ; for the angels themselves, when they sinned, they could not recover themselves, but sunk under their own * That is, ' contentments.' — Ed. 6 A DESCRIPTION OP CHRIST. sin eternally. Thus we see how he is God's servant, who set him apart, and chose him to this service. And then he was a servant to us ; for the Son of man came to minister, not to be ministered unto, Matt. xx. 28. He washed his disciples' feet. He was a servant to us, because he did our work and suifered our punish- ment ; we made him serve by our sins, as the prophet saith, Isa. xliii. 24. He is a servant that bears another man's burden. There was a double burden — of obedience active, and obedience passive. He bore them both. He came under the law for us, both doing what we should have done, and indeed far more acceptably, and suffering that we should have suffered, and far more acceptably. He being our surety, being a more excellent person, he did bear our burden, and did our work, therefore he was God's servant, and our servant ; and God's servant, because he was our servant, because he came to do a work behoveful to us. Herein appears the admirable love and care of God to us wretched creatures, here is matter of wonderment. If we look to him that was a servant ; If we look to that in God and him, that made him stoop to be a servant; If we look to the manner of the performance of this service ; If we look to the fruit of that service ; they are all matter of wondennent. If we look to the person that was this servant ; the apostle, in Philip, ii. 6, will tell you, he thought it not robbery to be equal with God, yet he took upon him the shape of a servant. Was not this wonderful, for God to become man, the glorious God to abase himself, to be a servant ? God- man, glorious God, and base servant ; for the hving God to die, for the incomprehensible God to be enclosed in the womb of a virgin, for glory itself to be abased, for riches to become poor, what matter of wonderment is here ! The very angels stand at a gaze and wonder, they pry into these things, 1 Peter i. 12 ; his name may well be wonderful. There are four notable conjunctions that are especially wonderful, two in us, and two above us. One in us, is the conjunction of so excellent a thing as the soul breathed in by God. The soul of man is an admirable thing. The world is not worth it in the judgment of him that gave himself for it. That this should be joined to a piece of earth (indeed, I am wonderfully made, saith David, Ps. cxxxix. 14) in regard of his body, but the conjunction of the soul and body together, so excellent a substance to so base a thing as earth, to a piece of red, wcll-colom-ed earth [a],* to a lump of flesh, it is a wondrous con- junction. But there is a more supernatural conjunction of man when all of us, sinners as we are, are knit to Christ om' head, and head and members make one Christ. Here is a wondrous conjunction. St Paul calls it a mystery, Eph. v. 32. These conjunctions in us are wonderfal. But now, to go higher, in Christ there are more wonderful conjunctions ; for the greatest and the meanest to join together, for God and man to come together, the Lord of all and a servant, and such a servant as should be under a curse, for the Highest of all to come to the deepest abasement. For there was no abasement ever so deep as Christ's was, in a double regard. First, None ever went so low as he, for he suffered the wi'ath of God, and bore upon him the sins of us all ; none ever was so low. And then in another respect his abasement was greatest, because he * The letters a, b, c, &c,, in the text, refer to notes appended to the respective treatise, &c. — G, A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. 7 descended from the highest top of glory ; and for him to be man, to be a servant, to be a curse, to suffer the wrath of God, to be the lowest of all — Lord, whither dost thou descend ? Here is a wonder in these conjunctions. Next to Christ's abasement was Adam's ; because he was the most ex- cellent, being in the state of innocency, and carrying the image of God, and being famihar with God. For him presently to come into that fearful condition, it was the greatest abasement ; because it was fi'om the gi'eatest dignity that made the abasement of Christ so great. For lordship to submit to service, for God to be man, the blessed God to become a curse, here is matter of wonder indeed. In Christ, again, there was a conjunction of perfect body, perfect soul, and perfect God, and all make one Christ. In the Trinity there is a con- junction of three persons in one nature. That is a wondrous conjunction, but it belongs not to our present purpose. Here you see there is matter of wonder in the person, that Christ should be a servant. There is matter of wonder likewise in that from whence he is a servant. Whence comes it that Christ is a servant ? It is from the wondrous love of God, and the wondrous love of Christ. To be so abased, it was won- drous love in God to give him to us to be so abased, and the wondrous misery we were in, that we could not otherwise be freed from ; for such was the pride of man, that he, being man, would exalt himself to be like God. God became man, he became a servant to expiate our pride in Adam, so that it is wondrous in the spring of it. There was no such love as Christ's to become a servant, there was no such misery as we were in, out of which we were delivered by this abasement of Christ becoming a servant ; so it is wondrous in that regard, springing fi'om the infinite love and mercy of God, which is greater in the work of redemption and reconciliation than in the creation of the world, for the distance between nothing and something was less than the distance between sin and happiness. For nothing adds no opposition ; but to be in a sinful state there is opposition. Therefore it was gi-eater love and mercy for God, when we were sinful, and so obnoxious to eternal destruction, to make us of sinners, not only men, but to make us happy, to make us heirs of heaven out of a sinful and cm'sed estate, than to make us of nothing something, to make us men in Adam, for there God prevailed over nothing, but here his mercy triumphed over that which is opposite to God, over sinfulness and cursedness. To shew that the creature cannot be so low but there is somewhat in God above the misery of the creatm'e, his mercy shall triumph over the basest estate where he will shew mercy. Therefore there is mercy above all mercy and love above all love, in that Christ was a servant. Thiidly, It is wondrous in regard of the fruit we have by this service of Christ, the work of oui* redemption, to be translated from the kingdom of Satan to the glorious liberty of the sons of God, Rom. viii. 21, to be brought oiit of darkness into marvellous light. It is a marvellous matter of wonder, the good we have by this abasement of Christ, ' Behold what love the Father hath shewed us, that we should be called the sons of God ! ' 1 John iii. 1. Now, all this comes from Christ's being a servant. Our liberty comes fi'om his service and slavery, our hfe from his death, our adoption and sonship and all comes from his abasement. Therefore it is a matter of wonderment for the great things we have by it, the depth, the depth, saith St Paul, Rom. xi. 33. Here are all dimensions in this excellent work that Christ hath wrought by his abasement, by his incania- 8 A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. tion, and taking upon him the form of a servant, and dying for us ; here is the height and breadth, and length and depth of the love of God in Christ. the riches of God's mercy ! The apostles they stand in a wonder and admiration of this, and indeed, if anything be to be admired, it is Clii'ist, that wondrous conjunction, the wondrous love that wrought it, and the wondrous fi'uit we have by it. It is the baseness of our nature we can wonder at shallow things. There cannot be fooler}', but there will be many about it presently, and stand ad- miring every empty idle thing that the nature of man is carried away with ; whereas indeed there is nothing worthy of admiration but the wonderful love of God. how wonderful are thy works, saith David, of the works of creation, Ps. viii. 1. The work of creation and of providence whereby God guides the world are wonderful, and the psalmist cries out of the folly of men, that do not regard the work of the Lord, ' Fools regard not this ' Ps. xiv 1 ; ' The works of the Lord are worthy to be considered, they are known of all that delight in them,' Ps. csi. 2. But if these things be so wonderful, and to be regarded and delighted in, alas ! what is all the work of redemption ! Great is the mystery of godliness, God manifested in the flesh, &c., 1 Tim. iii. 16. There are mysteries, matters of admiration, but carnal men think these trival matters, they can hear matters of more rai'ity; and when they speak of these things, alas ! they are too wise to wonder, tush, they know the gospel well enough, whereas indeed, as we see here, they are things that deserve the admiration of angels ; and as they deserve it, so the angels pry into these excellent secrets in Jesus Christ, 1 Pet. i. 12. Christ was a servant by office and by condition. We must not rest in this base condition ; for he took upon him the form of a servant that he might be an excellent servant. There is both baseness and excellency in the word servant ; for his humiliation was a degree of his exaltation, and a part of his advancement. If we regard his human nature, it was an ad- vancement for man's nature to be gi-afted into God by conception and incar- nation ; but if we regard his Godhead, for him to conceal liimself, and lay aside the beams and rays of majesty, and clothe himself with man's flesh, this was the first degree of humiliation. It was an advancement to his flesh, but it was a concealing and hiding to his Godhead. For God to be- come a servant this was an abasement : but then consider the excellency of the service, how God dehghted in it, and how useful it was to us, and we shall see that he was a servant by way of excellency. There was first in Christ human flesh, abased flesh, and then glorious flesh. Abasement was first necessaiy for Christ ; for he could not have performed the office of a servant, unless he had undertaken the condition of a sen^ant. He must first be abased and then glorious, our iU must be his before his good could be ours ; and how could he undergo our ifl, our sin and misery, and the curse due to us, but he must be abased ? Our sins must be imputed to him, and then his righteousness and whatsoever is good is ours ; so here is both the abasement of his condition, and the excellency of his oftice to be a king, priest, and prophet to his church, as we shall see afterwards. Is the Lord Christ a servant ? This should teach us not to stand upon any terms. If Christ had stood upon terms, if he had refused to take upon him the shape of a servant, alas ! where had wc and our salvation been ? And yet wretched creatures, we think ourselves too good to do God and our brethren any service. Christ stood not upon his greatness, but, being equal A\'ith God, he became a servant. Oh ! we should dismoimt from the tower of our conceited excellency. The heai-t of man is a proud creatm'e, a A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. 9 proud piece of flesh. Men stand upon their distance. Tfhat ! shall I stoop to him ? I am thus and thus. We should descend from the heaven of our conceit, and take npon us the form of servants, and ahasc ourselves to do good to others, even to any, and account it an honour to do any good to others in the places we are in. Christ did not think himself too good to leave heaven, to conceal and veil his majesty under the veil of our flesh, to work our redemption, to bring us out of the cursed estate we Avere in. Shall we think ourselves too good for any sei'Adce ? Who for shame can be proud when he thinks of this, that God was abased ? Shall God be abased, and man proud ? Shall God become a ser\'ant, and shall we that are servants think much to serve our fellow-sen'ants ? Let us learn this lesson, to abase ourselves ; we cannot have a better pattern to look unto than our blessed Saviour. A Christian is the greatest freeman in the world ; he is free from the wi'ath of God, fi-ee from hell and damnation, from the curse of the law ; but then, though he be free in these respects, yet, in regard of love, he is the greatest servant. Love abaseth him to do all the good he can ; and the more the Spirit of Christ is in us, the more it will abase us to anything wherein we can be serviceable. Then, again, here is comfort for us, that Christ, in whatsoever he did in our redemption, is God's servant. He is appointed by God to the work ; so, both God and Christ meet together in the work. Christ is a voluntary' in it, for he emptied himself, he took upon him the form of a servant, Phil. ii. 6, he came from heaven voluntarily. And then withal the Fa- ther joins with him, the Father appointed him and sent him, the Father laid him as the corner-stone, the Father sealed him, as it is, Johnvi. 27, the Father set him out, as it is, Eom. iii. 25. ' He hath set him out as the propi- tiatory.' Therefore, when we think of reconciliation and redemption, and salvation wi'ought by Christ, let us comfort om-selves in the solidity of the work, that it is a service perfectly done. It was done by Christ, God-man. It is a service accepted of God, therefore God cannot refuse the service of our salvation wrought by Christ. Christ was his servant in the working of it. We may present it to God, it is the obedience of thy servant, it is the satisfaction of thy servant. Here is that '^ill give full content and satis- faction to conscience, in this, that whatsoever Christ did, he was God's ser- vant in it. But we shall better understand the intent of the Holy Ghost when we have gone over the rest of the words, * Behold my servant v/hom I have chosen.' Christ was chosen before all worlds to be the head of the elect. He was predestinate and ordained by God. As we ai'e ordained to salvation, so Christ is ordained to be the head of all that shall be saved. He was chosen eternally, and chosen in time. He was singled out to the work b}'' God ; and all others that are chosen are chosen in him. There had been no choosing of men but m him; for God saw us so defiled, lying in our filth, that he could not look upon us but in his Son. He chose him, and us in him. Here is meant, not only choosing by eternal election to happiness, but a choosing to office. There is a choosing to gi-ace and gloiy, and a choos- ing to office. Here, it is as well meant, a choosing to office, as to grace and glory. God, as he chose Christ to gi-ace and glory, so he chose him to the office of Mediatorship. Christ did not choose himself ; he was no usurper. No man calls himself to the office, as it is in Heb. v. 4 ; but Christ was called and appointed of God. He was willing, indeed, to the work, he took it voluntary upon him ; but as Mediator, God chose him, God the Father and he joining together. 10 A DESCEIPTION OF CHRIST. If we respect eternal salvation, or grace, or ofiice, Christ was chosen in respect of his manhood ; for, as it is well observed by divines, Christ is the head of all that are predestinate ; and the human nature of Christ could not merit its choice, it could not merit its incarnation, it could not merit union with the Godhead, it was merely from grace. How could Chi'ist's manhood deserve anything of God before it was ? Things must have a subsistence before they can work : our blessed Saviour is the pattern of all election, and his manhood could not merit to be knit to the second person ; as how could it, being a creature ? Therefore the knitting of the human nature of Christ to his divine, it is called the grace of union. The choosing of the human nature of Christ to be so gracious and glorious, it was of grace. Christ he was both a chosen servant and a choice servant. In calling him a chosen servant, it implies his excellency, as a chosen vessel. Acts ix. 15, a chosen arrow in God's quiver. Lament, iii. 13, so a chosen servant, every way excellent. This adds to our comfort, that whatsoever Christ did for us, he did it as chosen ; he is a chosen stone, as St Peter saith, 1 Peter ii. 6, ' a precious corner-stone ;' though refused of the builders, yet precious in God's sight ! Was Christ a chosen servant of God, and shall not we take God's choice ? Is not God's choice the best and the wisest ? Hath God chosen Christ to work our salvation, and shall we choose any other ? Shall we run to saints' mediation, to the virgin Marj^, and others, for intercession, which is a part of Christ's office ? ^Vho chose Mary, and Peter, and Paul to this work ? There is no mention in Scripture of them for this purpose, but behold mij servant, whom I have chosen. God in pai'adise did choose a wife for Adam, so God hath chosen a husband for his church ; he hath chosen Christ for us : therefore it is intolerable sacrilegious rebellion and impudency to refuse a Saviour and Mediator of God's choosing, and to set up others of our own, as if we were wiser to choose for ourselves than God is. We may content our- selves well enough with God's choice, because he is the party offended. Besides, it is folly to go out from Christ, where there is aU fulness and content, to leave God's chosen servant, and to go to any other servant, to any broken vessel. God rests in this sei-vant as Pharaoh did in Joseph, the second person in the kingdom, Gen. xli. 40, 43. Therefore let God's choice and ours agree. And this directs us also, in our devotions to God, how to carry our- selves in our prayers and services, to ofler Christ to God. Behold, Lord, thy chosen servant, that thou hast chosen to be my Mediator, my Saviour, my all in all to me, he is a mediator and a Saviour of thine own choosing, thou canst not refuse thy own choice; if thou look upon me, there is nothing but matter of unworthiness, but look upon him whom thou hast chosen, my head and my Saviour ! Again, if Christ be a chosen servant, let us take heed how we neglect Christ. When God hath chosen him for us, shall not we think him worthy to be embraced and regarded ; shall we not kiss the Son with the kiss of love, and faith, and subjection ? He is a Saviour of God's own choosing, refuse him not. Wliat is the reason that men refuse this chosen stone '? They will not be laid low enough to build upon this corner stone, this hidden stone. The excellency of Christ is hidden, it appears not to men, men will not be squared to be built upon him. Stones for a building must be fi'amed, and made even, and flat. Men stick out with this and that A DESCKIPTION OF CHEIST. 11 lust, they will not be pared and cut and fitted for Christ. If they may have their lusts and wicked lives, they will admit of Christ. But wo must make choice of him as a stone to build upon him; and to be built on him, we must be made hke him. We Hke not this laying low and abasing, therefore we refuse this corner stone, though God hath made him the corner of building to all those that have the life of grace here, or shall have glory hereafter. The papists admit him to be a stone, but not the only stone to build on, but they build upon him and saints, upon him and works, upon him and traditions. But he is the only corner stone. God hath chosen him only, and we must choose him only, that we may be framed and laid upon him to make up one building. So much for that, ' Behold my servant whom I have chosen.' My Beloved, in whom my soul is well j^leasecl. — How do we know that these words in the prophet Isaiah are fitly appliable to Christ ? By the greatest authority that ever was from the beginning of the world, by the immediate voice of God the Father from heaven, who applies these words in Isaiah to Christ, Matt. iii. 17, in his inauguration when he was baptized, ' This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased,' this is that my Son, that beloved, 6 uyd'TrriThg, the beloved Son, so beloved that my soul delights in him, he is capable of my whole love, I may pour out my whole love upon him. ' In whom I am well pleased,' it is the same with that here, ' in whom my soul delighteth,' the one espresseth the other. How, and in what respect is Christ thus beloved of God ? First as he is God, the Son of God, the engraven image of his Father, so he is primum amahile, the first lovely thing that ever was. When the Father loves him, he loves himself in him, so he loves him as God, as the second person, as his own image and character. And as man he loves him, for as man he was the most excellent creature in the world, he was conceived, fashioned, and fi.-amed in his mother's womb by the Holy Ghost. It is said, Heb. x. 5, God gave him a body. God the Father by the Holy Ghost fashioned and framed and fitted him with a body, therefore God must needs love his o^vn workmanship. Again, there was nothing in him displeasing to God, there was no sin found in his life any way, therefore as man he was well pleasing to God. He took the manhood and ingi-afted it into the second person, and enriched it there ; therefore he must needs love the manhood of Chiist, being taken into so near a union with the Godhead. As God and man mediator especially, he loves and delights in him. In regard of his ofiice, he must needs dehght in his own ordinance and de- cree. Now he decreed and sealed him to that ofiice, therefore he loves and delights in him as a mediator of his own appointing and ordaining, to be our king, and priest, and prophet. Again, he loved and dehghted in him, in regard of the execution of his ofiice both in doing and suffering. In doing, the evangelist saith, ' He did all things well,' Mark vii. 37. "\Vhen he healed the sick, and raised the dead, and cured all diseases, whatsoever he did was well done. And for his suffering, God dehghted m him for that, as it is in John x. 17, ' My Father loves me, because I lay down my life ;' and so in Isa. liii. 12, ' He shall divide him a portion with the great, because he poured out his soul unto death;' and in Phil. ii. 9, ' Because he abased himself to the death of the cross, ' God gave him a name above all names :' therefore God loves and delights in him for his suflering and abasement. 12 A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. It is said of Noali, Gen. viii. 21, that he offered a sacrifice after the flood, and 'the Lord smelled a sweet savour of his sacrifice,' and thereupon he saith, ' I will not curse the earth again.' So God loves and delights in Christ as he oflered himself a sacrifice of a sweet smelling savour wherein God rests ; he felt such a sweet savour in the sacrifice of Christ, he is so delighted in it, that he will never destroy mankind, he will never destroy any that be- lieve in Christ. The sacrifice of Noah v/as a type of Christ's sacrifice. Now, that Christ's sacrifice was so acceptable to God, there is a direct place for it in Eph. v. 2, ' Walk in love, as Christ hath loved us, and hath given himself an offering and a sacrifice to God of a sweet smell.' And in- deed how many sweet savours were there in the sacrifice of Christ offered on the cross ! Was there not the sweet savour of obedience ? he was ' obedient to the death of the cross,' Phil. ii. 8. There was the sweet savour of patience, and of love to mankind. Therefore God delighted in him, as God, as man, as mediator God-man, in his doings, in his sufferings, every way. Doth God delight thus in Christ, in his person, or considered mystically? I answer ; both. God loves and delights in Christ mystical, that is, in Christ and his members, in whole Christ. ' This is my beloved Son, in v/hom I am well pleased,' not only with whom alone by himself, but ' in whom,' in him as God, in him in body and soul, in him as head of the church, in him mystically, in all that are under him any kind of way. God delights in him, and all his. Is it possible that he should delight in the head, and refuse the mem- bers ? that he should love the husband, and mislike the spouse ? no ; with the same love that God loves Christ, he loves all his. He delights in Christ and all his, with the same delight. There is some difl"erence in the degree, ' that Christ in all things may have the pre-eminence,' Col. i. 18, but it is the same love ; therefore our Saviour sets it down excellently in his own prayer, he desires * that the same love wherewith his Father loved him may be in them that are his,' John xvii. 20, that they may feel the love wherewith his Father loves him, for he loved him and his members, him and his spouse, with all one love. This is our comfort and our confidence, that God accepts us, because he accepts his beloved ; and when he shall cease to love Christ, he shall cease to love the members of Christ. They and Christ make one mystical Christ. This is our comfort in dejection for sin. We are so and so indeed, but Christ is the chosen servant of God, ' in whom he delighteth,' and delights in us in him. It is no matter what we are in ourselves, but what we are in Christ when we are once in him and continue in him. God loves us with that inseparable love wherewith he loves his o^vn Son. Therefore St Paul triumphs, Rom. viii. 35, ' What shall separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus?' This love, it is founded in Christ, 'therefore neither things present, nor things to come (as he goes on there gloriously), shall be able to separate us.' You see what a wondrous confidence and comfort we have hence, if we labour to be in Christ, that then God loves and delights in us, because he loves and delights in Christ Jesus. And hero is a wondrous comfort, that God must needs love our salvation and redemption when he loves Christ, because ' he poured out his soul to death to save us.' Doth not God dchght that we should be saved, and our sins should be forgiven, when he loves Christ because he abased himself for that purpose ? What a prop and foundation of comfort is this, when the devil shall present God to us in a terrible hideous manner, as an avenging God, ' and consuming fire,' &c., Heb. xii. 29; indeed out of Clii-ist A DESCEIPTION OF CHRIST. 13 he is so. Let us present to ourselves thoughts of God as the Scripture sets forth God to us ; and as God sets forth himself, not only in that sweet relation >.s a Father to Christ, but our father, 'I go to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God,' John xx. 17, having both one God, and love and care. There is none of us all but the devil will have a say- ing to us, either in the time of our life, in some terrible temptation, espe- cially when any outward abasement comes, or at the hour of death ; and all the cordials we have gathered out of the word will then be little enough to support the di*ooping soul, especially in the hour of temptation. be- loved, what a wondrous stay and satisfaction to a distressed conscience doth this yield, that Christ in all that he hath wrought for us is God's chosen servant, ' whom he loves and delights in,' and delights in him for this very work, that he abased himself and gave himself for us, that he wrought God's work, because he wrought reconciliation for us ! If we can believe in Christ, we see here what ground of comfort we have, that God loves and delights in us, as he doth in his own Son. And what a comfort is it now, in our daily approach to God, to minister boldness to us in all our suits, that we go to God in the name of one that he loves, ' in whom his soul delights,' that we have a friend in court, a friend in heaven for us, that is at the right hand of God, and interposeth himself there for us in all our suits, that makes us acceptable, that perfumes our prayers and makes them acceptable. His intercession is still by virtue of his service, dying for us. He intercedes by virtue of his redemption. If God love him for the work of redemption, he loves him for his intercession, therefore God must needs regard the prayers made by him, by virtue of his dying for us, when he loves him for dying for us. Be sure therefore, in all our suits to God, to take along our elder brother, to take our beloved brother, take Benjamin with us, offer all to God in him, oui' persons to be accepted in him, our prayers, our hearing, our works, and all that we do, and we shall be sm-e to speed ; for he is one in whom the soul of God delights. There must be this passage and repassage, as God looks upon us lovely in him, and delights in us as we are members of him. All God's love and the fruits of it come t o us as we are in Christ, and are one with him. Then in our passage to God again we must return all, and do all, to God in Christ. Be sure not to go to a naked God ; for so he is ' a consuming fii'e,' but go to him in the mediation of him whom he loves, * and in whom his soul delighteth.' And shall God love him and delight in him, and shall not our soul delight in Christ ? This therefore should stir up our aflections to Christ, to be faithful in our conjugal affection as the spouse of Christ, to say, ' My be- loved is mine and I am my beloved's,' Cant. ii. 16. Christ calls his church, ' My love and my dove,' Cant. vi. 9. Doth Christ dehght in us, and God dehght in Christ, and shall not we dehght in Christ that delights in us, and in whom God delights ? In the 1 Cor, xvi. 22, the apostle is bold to pro- nounce a bitter curse, ' Anathema Maran-atha,' upon him that loves not the Lord Christ Jesus, a most bitter curse. When Christ shall become a servant to do our work for us, to suffer for us, to bear the burden of our sins upon the tree, to become our husband, to bestow his riches upon us, to raise us to the same condition with himself, and withal to be such a one as God hath chosen out to love and dehght in as the best object of his love, and most capable of it, and for us not to solace and delight ourselves in him that God delights in, when God dehghts in him for our sake. God loves and dehghts in him for the work of salvation and redemption by his 14 A DESCEIPTION OF CHRIST. blood, and shall not we love and embrace bim for bis love wbicb is for our good ? Wbat good batb God by it but only the glory of bis mercy, in saving our souls tbi'ougb Christ ? Therefore if God love him for the good be doth to us, much more should we love him for the fruit of it that we receive ourselves. It should shame us therefore when we find dulness and coldness upon us, that we can hear of anything better than of Christ ; and arguments concerning Christ are cold to us, Alas ! where is our love, and joy, and delight ; and when we can make no better but a carnal use of the incarna- tion and other benefits by Christ ! We should therefore desire God to shed the love of Christ into our hearts more and more, that we may feel in our souls the love that he bears to us, and may love God and Christ again, for that that he hath done for us. Hence we have also a ground of estimation of Christians to be excellent persons. Doth God value poor sinful souls so much as to give Christ for them to become a Saviour ? doth he delight in Christ for giving himself for them ? and shall not we love one another whom God and Christ so loves ? But if God love and delight in those that are in Christ, with the same love and delight that he hath in him, how shall I know that I am in Christ, and that God thus delights in me ? Briefly, a man may know that be is in Christ, if he find the Spirit of Christ in bim ; for the same Spirit when Christ took our nature, that sanctified that blessed mass whereof he was made, when there was a union between him and the second person, the same Spu'it sanctifies our souls and bodies. There is one Spirit in the head and in the members. There- fore if we find the Spirit of Christ in us, we are in Christ and he in us. Now this Spirit is rene^^ing, ' Whosoever is in Christ is a new creature,' 2 Cor.v. 17; aU is new, ' old things are done away,' the old manner of language, the old disposition, old affections, old company, all old things are past, all is new ; and if a man be a new creature, he hath right and title to ' the new heaven and new earth,' 2 Pet. iii. 13. Let us examine the work of gi'ace in us. If there be no change in us we have no present interest in Christ. We have to do with bim because he is stiU wooing us to be in him, but as yet we have no title to him. The very beholding of Christ is a transforming sight. The Spmt that makes us new creatm-es, and stirs us up to behold this servant, it is a trans- forming beholding. If we look upon bim with the eye of faith, it will make us like Christ ; for the gospel is a mirror, and such a mirror, that when we look into it, and see ourselves interested in it, we are changed from glory- to glory, 2 Cor. iii. 18. A man cannot look upon the love of God and of Christ in the gospel, but it will change him to be like God and Christ. For bow can we see Christ, and God in Christ, but we shall see how God hates sin, and this wiU transfonn us to hate it as God doth, who hated it so that it could not be expiated but with the blood of Christ, God-man. So, seeing the holiness of God in it, it will transform us to be holy. When we see the love of God in the gospel, and the love of Cbi'ist giving himself for us, this will transfonn us to love God. When we see the bumihty and obedience of Christ, when we look on Christ as God's chosen servant in aU this, and as our surety and head, it transforms us to the lilvc humility and obedience. Those that find not their dispositions in some comfortable measure wrought to this blessed transformation, they have not yet those eyes that the Holy Ghost rcquireth here. 'Behold my servant whom I have chosen, my beloved in whom my soul delighteth.' A DESCKIPTION OF CHRIST. 15 I will put my Spirit itpon him. — Now we come to the qualification of Christ foi* his calhng, in these words, I will put my Spirit upon him — that is, I will clothe him with my Spirit, I will put it, as it were, upon him as a garment. Now there were divers degi-ees of Christ's recei\-ing the Spirit at several times. For he was conceived by the Holy Ghost. The Holy Ghost did sanctify that blessed mass whereof his body was framed in the womb of the virgin, he was quickened in the womb in his conception by the Holy Ghost, and he was graced by the Holy Ghost, and led by the Spirit in all things before his baptism. But afterward, when he came to set upon his office, to be the prophet and priest and king of his chm'ch, that great office of saving mankind, which he did not solemnly set upon till he was thiiiy years old, then God poured upon him a special portion of the Spirit, an- swerable to that great calling, then the Spii'it lighted upon him. Matt. iii. 16. Christ was ordained to his office by the greatest authority that ever any was ordained from the beginning of the world. For at his baptism, when he was ordained and set apart to his office, there was the Father from heaven uttered an audible voice, * This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased,' Mat. iii. 17 ; and there was Christ, the party baptized and installed into that great office ; then there was the Holy Ghost, in the form and shape of a dove. It being a matter of the greatest consequence that ever was in the world, greater than the creation, it was fit it should be done with the greatest authority ; and so it VN-as, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost being present at the admission of Christ into his office. This is especially here intended, though the other be included, I will put my Spirit upon him — that is, I will anoint him, as it is in Isa. Ixi. 1, * The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,' saith Chi'ist, ' because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings to the meek, to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, to open the prison for them that ai'e bound, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord' — that is, the year of jubilee, for that was a type of Chi'ist, to preach the gospel deliverance to all that are in captivity, servitude, and thraldom under Satan and sin. This was accomplished when Christ, at his baptism, entered upon his office. God put his Spirit upon him, to set him apart, to ordain him, and to qualify him with abund- ance of grace for the work ; for there are these three things especially meant by putting the Spiiit upon him, separation or setting apart, and ordaining, and enriching with the gifts of the Spirit. When any one is called to great place, there is a setting apart from others, and an ordaining to that particular, and a qualifying. If it be a caUing of God, he qualifies where he ordains always. But Christ had the Spirit before. AVbat doth he mean, then, when he saith he will put the Spirit upon him now ? I answer, he had the Spirit before, answerable to that condition he was in. Now he received the Spirit answerable to that condition he was to un- dertake. He was perfect then for that condition. Now he was to be made perfect for that office he was to set upon. He was always perfect. He had abundance of Spirit for that estate he was in, but now he was to enter upon another condition, to preach the gospel, to be a prophet, and after to be a priest. Therefore he saith now especially, I will put my Spirit upon him. Now, this putting of the Spirit, it is expressed in Isa. Ixi. 1, and other places, by anointing. There were three sorts of persons that were anointed before Christ, prophets, priests, and kings. Now Christ was to be 16 A DESCEIPTION OF CHRIST. a prophet, a priest, and a king. Therefore he was to be anointed with the Spirit, to enable him to these three offices. I might here take occasion to enlarge myself in the offices of Christ, but I will only speak of them as the text ministereth just occasion. There are three main defects in man since the fall. There is ignorance and blindness. There is rebellion in the will and affections. And in regard of his condition, by reason of the sins of nature and life, a subjection to a cursed estate, to the wrath of God and eternal damnation. Now, answerable to these three grand ills, whosoever shall be ordained a saviour must provide proportionable remedies for these. Hereupon comes a threefold office in Christ, that is ordained to save man, to cure this three- fold mischief and malady. As we are ignorant and blind, he is a prophet to instruct us, to convince us of the ill state we are in, and then to convince us of the good he intends us, and hath wrought for us, to instruct us in all things conceming our everlasting comfort. He is such a prophet as teacheth not only the out- ward, but the inward man. He openoth the heart, he teacheth to do the things he teacheth. Men teach what we should do, but they teach not the doing of them. He is such a prophet as teacheth us the very things ; he teacheth us to love and to obey, &c. And answerable to the rebellion and sinfulness of our dispositions, he is a king to subdue whatsoever is iU in us, and likewise to subdue all opposite power without us. By little and little he wiU trample all enemies under his feet, and under our feet, too, ere long. Now, as we are cursed by reason of our sinful condition, so he is a priest to satisfy the wrath of God for us. He was made a curse for us. Gal. iii. 13. He became a servant, that, being so, he might die, and undergo the cursed death of the cross ; not only death, but a cursed death, and so his blood might be an atonement as a priest. So, answerable to the threefold ill in us, you see here is a threefold office in Christ. Now Christ performs these three offices in this order. Fhst of all he is a prophet. When he was baptized the Spirit was put upon him, as in Isa. bd. 1, to preach deliverance to the captives. First, he preached wherefore he came into the world, why God sent him, and dis- covered to the world the state they were in ; and when he had preached as a prophet, then as a priest, he died, and offered himself a sacrifice. After death his kingly office was most apparent. For then he rose again as a triumphant king over death and all our enemies, and ascended in his triumphant chariot to heaven, and there he sits gloriously as a king in his throne at the right hand of God. So that however at his baptism, and before, when he was sanctified in his mother's womb, he was both king, ])riest, and prophet, yet in regard of the order of manifestation, he mani- fested himself first to be a prophet, secondly a priest, and thirdly to be a king. For his kingly office brake forth but seldom in the time of his abasement. Sometimes it did, to shew that he v/as ruler and commander of earth and sea, and devils, and all. He wrought miracles, but the glorious manifesta- tion of his kingly office, it was after his resurrrection. Now, the fundamental, the chief office to which he was anointed by the Spirit, upon which the rest depends, it was his priestly office ; for where- fore was his teaching, but to instruct us what ho must do and sufi'er for us, and what benefit we have by his sacrifice — reconciliation with God, and freedom from the wrath of God, and right unto life everlasting, by his A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. 17 obedience to tlie cursed death of the cross ? And how comes he to be a king to rule over us by his Holy Spirit, and to have a right unto us, but because as a priest he died for us first ? He washed us with his blood, he purged us with his blood, and then he made us kings and priests. Rev. i. 5. All other benefits came from this — he washed our souls in his blood fii'st. Whatsoever we have from God, is especially from the great work of Christ as a priest abasing himself, and dying for us ; and thereupon he comes to be a prophet and a king. Thus we see the order of Christ's ofiices, how they come to be fruitful to us, the rest especially, by virtue of his priestly office. Note this by the way : Christ's priestly office, his sacrificing himself for us, includes two branches. A priest was to ofier sacrifice and to pray for the people. Our Saviour Christ did both in the days of his humiliation, in his prayer in John xvii. There, as a priest, he commends his sacrifice to God before he died ; and now he is in heaven making intercession for us, to the end of the world. He appears for us there. We see, then, to what purpose God put the Spirit upon Christ, to enable him to be a prophet, a priest, and a king, and thereupon to take away those mischiefs and evils that we were subject and enthralled to ; so that we have a supply for aU that may any way abase us and cast us down, in the all-sufficiency that is in Christ Jesus, who was anointed with the Spirit for this end. It may be objected, Christ was God himself ; he had the Spirit, and gives the Spuit ; therefore, how could the Spirit be put upon him ? I answer, Christ is both God and man. Christ, as God, gives the Spirit to his human nature ; so he communicates his Spirit. The Spirit is his Spirit as well as the Father's. The Spirit proceeds from them both. Christ, as man, receives the Spirit. God the Father and the Son put the Spirit upon the manhood of Christ ; so Christ both gives and receives the Spirit in diverse respects. As God, he gives and sends the Spirit. The spiration and breathing of the Spirit is from him as well as from the Father, but as man he received the Spirit. And this is the reason of it : next under the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, Christ the Mediator, was to be the spring and original of all comfort and good. Therefore, Christ's nature must not only be sanctified and ordained by the Spirit ; but he must receive the Spirit to enrich it, for whatsoever is wrought in the creature is by the Spirit. Whatsoever Christ did as man, he did by the Spirit. Christ's human nature, therefore, must be sanctified, and have the Spirit put upon it. God the Father, the first person in Trinity, and God the Son, the second, they work not immediately, but by the Holy Ghost, the third person. Therefore, whatsoever is wrought upon the creature, it comes from the Holy Ghost immediately. So Christ received the Holy Ghost as sent from the Father and the Son. Now as the Holy Sphit is from the Father and the Son, so he works from the Father and the Son. He sanctifieth and purifieth, and doth all from the Father and the Son, and knits us to the Father and the Son ; to the Son first, and then to the Father. Therefore it is said, ' The gi-ace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God the Father, and the communion of the Holy Ghost,' 2 Cor. xiii. 14 ; because all the communion we have with God is by the Holy Ghost. All the communion that Christ as man had with God was by the Holy Ghost ; and all the communion that God hath with us, and we with God, is by the Holy Ghost : for the Spirit is the bond of union between Christ and us, and between God and us. God communicates himself to us by his Spirit, and we communicate with God VOL. I. B 18 A DESCEIPTION OF CHRIST. by his Spirit. God doth all in us by his Spirit, and we do all back again to God by the Spirit. Because Christ, as a head, as the second Adam, was to be the root of all that are saved, as the first Adam was the root of all that are damned, he was therefore to receive the Spirit, and to have it put upon him in a more excellent and rich manner : for we must know that all things are first in Christ, and then in us. God chose him first, and then he chose us. God singled him out to be the Saviom", the second Adam, and he calls us in Christ. God justified Christ from our sins, being our surety, taking our sing upon him. We are justified, because he by his resun'ection quit himself from the guilt of our sins, as having paid the debt. Christ is the first fruits of them that rise again, 1 Cor. xv. 20. We rise again because he is risen. Christ first ascended ; we ascend in Christ. Chi'ist is first loved ; we are loved in the Beloved. Christ is first blessed ; we are blessed with all spiritual blessings in Jesus Christ, Eph. i. 8. So, whatsoever is in us, we have it at the second hand. We have the Spirit in us, but he is first in Christ ; God hath put the Spirit in Christ, as the spring, as the second Adam, as a public person, that should receive the Spirit for us all. He is fu'st in all things ; Christ must have the pre- eminence. He hath the pre-eminence m all, both before time, in time, and after time, in election, in whatsoever is done here in this world, and in glorification. All is first in Christ, and then in us. He is the elder brother. We must understand this, to give Christ his due honour and respect, and to know whence we have all we have. Therefore the Spirit is said here, first, to be ' put upon Christ.' We have not the Holy Ghost immediately from God, but we have, him as sanctifying Christ first, and then us ; and whatsoever the Holy Ghost doth in us, he doth the same in Christ first, and he doth it in us because in Christ. Therefore, in John xvi. 14, 15, Christ saith, He shall take of mine. Whatsoever the Holy Ghost works in us, he takes of Christ first. How is that ? Thus : the Holy Ghost comforts us with reasons from Christ. He died, and hath reconciled us to God ; therefore, now God is at peace with thee. Here the Holy Ghost takes a ground of comfort from the death of Christ. When the Holy Ghost would raise a man up to holiness of life, he tells him, Christ thy Saviour and head is quickened, and is now in heaven, therefore we ought to rise to holiness of life. If the Holy Ghost be to work either comfort or grace, or anything, he not only doth the same thing that he did first in Christ, but he doth it in us by reasons from Christ, by grounds fetched from Christ. The Holy Ghost tells our souls that God loves Christ first, and he loves us in Christ, and that we are those that God gave Christ for, that we are those that Christ makes intercession for in heaven. The Holy Ghost witnesseth to us the love of the Father and the Son, and so he fetcheth from Christ whatsoever he works. And hence the work of the Holy Ghost is distinguished from illusions and delusions, that are nothing but frantic conceits of comfort that are groundless. The Holy Ghost fetcheth all from Christ in his working and comfort, and he makes Christ the pattern of all ; for whatsoever is in Christ, the Holy Ghost, which is the Spirit of Christ, works in us as it is in Christ. Therefore, in John i. 13, it is said, ' of his fulness we receive grace for grace ' — that is, grace answerable to his grace. There are three things that we receive answerable to Christ by the Spirit. We receive grace — that is, the favour of God answerable to the favour A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. 19 God sliews his Son. He loves liis Son, he is graciously disposed to him, and he loves us. So gi'ace habitual. We have gi'ace in us answerable to the grace in Christ. AVe have love answerable to his love, patience answerable to his patience, obedience and humility answerable to that in Chiist. The Spirit works a conformity to Christ in all things. Likewise, in the third place, the Spirit assures us of the same privileges that issue from grace. Christ is a Son ; the Spirit tells us we are sons. Christ is an heir ; the Spirit tells us we are heirs with Christ. Christ is the king of heaven and earth ; the Spirit tells us that we are kings, that his riches are ours. Thus we have ' grace for grace,' both favour and grace in us, and privileges issuing from grace, we have all as they are in Christ. Even as in the first Adam we receive of his emptiness, curse for curse, ill for ill ; for his blindness and rebellion we are answerable ; we are born as he was after his fall : so in the second Adam, by his Spirit, we receive grace for grace. Hence issues this, that our state now in Chiist is far more excellent than our state in Adam was. How doth it spring hence ? Thus, Christ is God-man. His nature was sanctified by the Spirit ; he was a more excellent person, he gives and sends the Spirit. Adam was only a mere man, and therefore his goodness could not be so derived to his posterity ; for, however the Holy Ghost was in Adam, yet the Holy Ghost did not so fill him, he was not so in him as in Christ. The Holy Ghost is in Christ in a more excellent manner ; for Christ being equal with God, he gave the Holy Ghost ; the Holy Ghost comes from Christ as God. Now the second Adam being a more excellent pei'son, we being in Chiist the second Adam, we are in a more excellent, and in a more safe estate ; we have a better keeper of our happiness than Adam. He being a mere man, he could not keep his own happiness, but lost himself and all his posterity. Though he were created after the image of God, yet being but a mere man, he shewed himself to be a man — that is, a changeable creatm-e ; but Christ being God and man, having his nature sanctified by the Spirit, now om* happiness is in a better keeping, for our grace hath a better spring. The grace and sanctification we have, it is not in our own keeping, it distils into us answerable to om- necessities ; but the spring is indeficient, it never fails, the spring is in Christ. So the favour that God bears us, it is not first in us, but it is first in Christ ; God loves him, and then he loves us ; he gives him the Spirit, and us in him. Now, Christ is the keeper both of the love of God towards us and the grace of God ; and whatsoever is good he keeps all for us, he receives all for himself and for us ; he receives not only the Spirit for himself, but he receives it as Mediator, as head : for ' we all of his fulness receive grace for grace.' He receives it as a fountain to diffuse it, I say. This shews us our happy and blessed condition in Jesus Christ, that now the grace and love of God and our happiness, and the grace whereby we are sanctified and fitted for it, it is not in our own keeping originally, but in our head Christ Jesus. These be comfortable considerations, and, indeed, the hfe and soul of a Christian's Hfe and comfort. If we conceive them aright, they will quicken us to obedience, and we shall know what the gospel is. To come to make some use of it. I might observe this, that none should take that ofiice upon them to which they are not called of God, nor quahfied by his Spirit, especially 20 A DESCKIPTION OF CHRIST. ministers, because Christ did not set upon his office, till the Spirit was put upon him. The Spirit must enable us and fit us for everything. But I leave that, and come to that which concerns us all. First, then, hath God put the Spirit upon Christ, as the evangelist saith in John iii. 34, ' He whom God hath sent' — that is Christ — ' he speaketh the word of God : for God gives him not the Spirit by measure.' God doth not stand measuring grace out to Christ, but he pours it out upon him, full measm-e, running over, because he receives it not for himself alone, but for us. We receive the Spirit by measure, Eph. iv. 7, ' according to the measure of the gift of Christ.' Christ gives us all a measure of sanctifying knowledge and of eveiy grace, till we ' grow to be a perfect man in Christ,' Eph. iv. 13. Therefore it is called the ' first fruits of the Spirit,' Rom. viii. 23, as much as shall fit us for heaven, and grace sufficient, though it be not that measure we shall have hereafter, or that we would have here. Christ had a full measui-e, the fulness of a fountain, difiusive, not only abundance for himself, but redundance, and overflowing for the good of others ; he being the head of the chui'ch, not only a head of eminence, but of influence to bestow and convey all grace in him to all his members, proportionable to the service of every member. Therefore he received not the Sph'it according to measure — that is, sparingly — but it was showered upon him ; he was filled and clothed with the Holy Ghost. Is it so ? Let us labom', then, to see where to have supply in all our wants. We have -a full treasmy to go to. All treasure is hid in Christ for us. What a comfort is this in anything we want ! If we want the favour of God, go to his beloved Christ, desire God to love us in his beloved, and to accept us in his gracious Son, in him whom he hath made his servant, and anointed with his Spirit for that purpose. If we want particular gi-aces, go to the well-head Christ, consider of Christ now filled for us, as it w^as in Aaron. The oil that was poured on Aaron's head ran down to his beard, and to the skirts of his clothing, Ps. cxxxiii. 2, the meanest parts of his garment were bedewed with that oil : so the graces of God's Spirit poured upon our head Christ, our Aaron, our High Priest, run down upon us, upon all ranks of Christians, even upon the skirts, the weakest and lowest Christians. Every one hath gi-ace for grace ; we aU partake of the oil and anointing of our spii'itual Aaron, our High Priest. If we want anything, therefore, let us go to him. I can do all, saith St Paul, in Christ that strengtheneth me, Philip, iv. 13. Go to him for patience, for comfort, for everything, because God hath put his Spirit upon him, to supply all our wants ; he hath the oil of gladness above his fellows, Ps. xlv. 7 ; but for his fellows he hath the oil of grace more than any, but it is not only for him, but for us all. Therefore, let us have comfortable meditations of the fulness of Christ, and make use of it, all this is for me. In Col. ii. 9, St Paul sets it out, ' in him the fulness of the Godhead dwells personally ; ' for that is meant by tfw/iar/xa;?, and it follows after, ' in him we are complete.' Wherefore is all the fulness that is in him ? to shew that in him we are complete. So, in 1 John v. 20, 21, to shew how the spirits of the apostles agree, in this saith he, * we know that the Son of God is come in the flesh, and hath given us an under- standing to know him that is true, and we are in him that is true, even in his Son Jesus Christ. This is true God and eternal Ufe.' Christ is true God and eternal life for us all ; for our comfort, ' we know that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding, &c. Little children, keep yourselves from idols.' How doth this depend upon the other ? Thus ; A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. 21 wiU you go to idols, stocks and stones, devices of men's brain, for supply of grace and comfort ? Christ, whom God hath sent, he is come into the world ; he is God and eternal life. ' God hath given eternal life, and this life is in his Son,' 1 John v. 11 ; therefore, why should you go to idols ? What is the gi-ound of popish idolatries and abominations ? They con- ceive not aright of the fulness of Christ, wherefore he was ordained, and sent of God ; for if they did, they would not go to idols and saints, and leave Christ. Therefore let us make this use of it, go out of Christ for nothing. If we want favour, go not to saints, if we want instruction, go not to traditions of men. He is a prophet wise enough, and a priest full enough to make us accepted of God. K we want any grace, he is a king able enough, rich enough, and strong enough to subdue aU our rebellions in us, and he will in time by his Spirit overcome all, ' Stronger is he that is in us than he that is in the world,' 1 John iv. 4. The spirit in the world, the de-\dl and devilish-minded men, they are not so strong as the Spirit of Christ ; for by little and little the Spirit of Christ will subdue all. Christ is a king, go not out of him therefore for anything. ' Babes, keep j'our- selves from idols,' 1 John v. 21. You may well enough, you know whom to go to. Therefore let us shame ourselves. Is there such a store-house of com- fort and grace every way in Christ ? Why are we so weak and comfortless ? Why are we so dejected as if we had not such a rich husband ? All our husband's riches are ours for our good, we receive of it in our measure, why do we not go to the fountain and make use of it ? Why, in the midst of abundance, are we poor and beggarly ? Here we may see the misery of the world. Christ is a prophet to teach us the way to heaven, but how few be there that wiU be directed by him ! Christ is a Idng to subdue all our spiritual and worst enemies, to subdue those enemies that kings tremble at, to subdue death, to subdue the fear of judgment and the wrath of God, and yet how few will come under his government ! ' Christ is the light of the world,' John ix. 5, yet how few follow him! Christ is the way, yet how few tread in his steps ! Christ is our wisdom and oui* riches, yet how few go to him to fetch any riches, but content themselves with the transi- tory things of this life ! Men live as if Christ were nothing, or did nothing concern them, as if he were a person abstracted from them, as if he were not a head or husband, as if he had received the Spirit only for him- self and not for them, whereas all that is in Christ is for us. I beseech you therefore let us learn to Imow Christ better, and to make use of him. Again, if Christ hath ' the Spirit put upon him for us all,' then in our daily shps and errors make this use, to ofier Christ to God with this argu- ment. Take an argument fi'om God himself to bind him. God will be bound with his own arguments. We cannot bind him with ours, but let us go to him and say, Lord, though I be thus and thus sinful, yet for Christ Jesus' sake thy servant, whom thou lovest and hast put thy Spirit upon him to be a priest, and to make intercession for me, for his sake pardon, for his sake accept. Make use of God's consecration of Christ by the Spirit to God himself, and bind him with his o^vn mediator, and with his own priest of his own ordaining. Thou canst not. Lord, refuse a Saviour and mediator of thine own, sanctified by thine own Spirit, whom thou hast set .apart, and ordained and qualified every way for this pui-pose. Let us go to God in the name of this mediator Jesus Christ every day, and this is to make a good use of this, that God hath ' put his Spirit upon him.' But to make a use of trial, how shall we know that this comfort belongs 22 A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. to US, that Christ hath the Spirit put upon him for us or no, whether he be ordained a king, priest, and prophet for us ? That which I said before will give light to this. We must partake of the same Spirit that Christ hath, or else we are none of his members. As we partake of his name, so we must also of his anointing. Thereupon we are called Christians, because we partake of the anointing and Spirit of Christ, and if we have the Spirit of Christ, it will work the same in us as it did in Christ, it will convince us of our own ill, of our rebellions, and cursed estate, and it will convince us likewise of the good we have in him. And then, he is a Spirit of union, to knit us to Christ, and make us one with him, and thereupon to quicken us, to lead us, and guide us, and to dwell in us continually, to stir up prayers and supplications in us, to make us cry familiarly to God as to a Father, to comfort and support us in all our wants and miseries, as he did Christ, ' to help our infinnities,' as the apostle at large, in Rom. viii. 20, sets down the excellent office of the Holy Grhost, v/hat he doth in those that are Christ's. Let us therefore examine ourselves, what the Spirit doth in us, if Christ be set apart to redeem us as a priest. Surely all his offices go together. He doth by the same Spirit rule us, Eev. i. 5, ' He hath washed us in his blood, and made us kings and priests.' Whosoever he washeth in his blood he maketh him a king and a priest, he makes him by the power of his Spirit able to rule over his base corruptions. We may know then, whether we have benefit by Christ by his Spu-it, not only by the Spirit witnessing that we are the sons of God, but by some arguments whereby the Spirit may witness without delusion. For though the Spirit of Christ tells us that we are Christ's, yet the proof must be from guiding and lead- ing, and comforting and conforming us to Jesus Christ, in making us kings and prophets, enlightening our understandings to know his will, and con- forming us to be like him. The Spirit of Christ is a Spirit of power and strength. It will enable us to perform duties above nature, to overcome ourselves and injuries, it will make us to want and to abound, it will make us able to live and to die, as it enabled Christ to do things that another man could not do. So a Christian can do that, and sufl'er that that another man catinot do and suffer, because he hath the Spirit of Christ. At the least, whosoever hath the Spirit of Christ, he shall find that Spirit in him striving agamst that which is contrary, and by little and little getting ground. Where there is no conflict, there is no Spirit of Christ at all. I will not be large in the point, only I speak this by way of trial, to know whether we have the Spirit of Christ in us or no. If not, we have nothing to do with Christ ; for Christ saves us not as he is out of us only. Christ was to do something of himself that we have no share in, only the good of it is om-s. He was to redeem us by his blood, to be a sacrifice. The title to heaven and salvation was wrought by Christ out of us. But there is somewhat that ho doth not only for us, but he works in us by his Spirit, that is, the fitting of us for that he hath given us title to, and the applying of that that he hath done for us. Whosoever therefore hath any benefit by Christ, he hath the Spirit to apply that to himself and to fit and qualify him to be a member of such a head, and an heir of such a kingdom. Whosoever Christ works anything for, he doth also work in them. There is a Spirit of apphcation, and that Spirit of application, if it be true, it is a Spirit of sanctification and renovation fitting us every way for our condition. Let us not abuse ourselves, as the world commonly doth, concerning Christ. They think God is merciful, and Christ is a Saviour. It is true, but what hath he wrought in thcc by his Spiiit ? hast thou the Spirit of Christ ? A DESCKIPTION OF CHBIST. 23 or * else thou art none of his,' Rom. viii. 9. Wherever Christ is, he goes with his Spirit to teach us to apply what Christ hath done for us, and to fit us to be like him. Therefore, let those that live in any sins against con- science, think it a diabolical illusion to think God and Christ is merciful. Aye, but where is the work of the Spirit ? All the hope thou hast is only that thou art not in heU as yet, [only] for the time to come ; but for the present I dare not say thou hast anything to do with Christ, when there is nothing of the Sphit in thee. The Spirit of Christ conforms the spouse to be like the husband, and the members to be like the head. Therefore, beg of Chi'ist that he would anoint himself king in our hearts, and prophet and priest in our hearts, to do that that he did, to know his will as a prophet, to rule in us as a king, and to stir up prayers in us as a priest, to do in some proportion that that he doth, though it be in never so little a measure, for we receive it in measm-e, but Christ beyond measure. We must labour for so much as may manifest to us the truth of our estate in Christ, that we are not dead but living branches. Now Christ gives and conveys his Spirit especially, and most of all since his ascension and sitting at the right hand of God, for after his resurrec- tion he declared his victory over all his enemies, and therefore was able to give the Spirit without opposition, and upon his resurrection, death and hell and the anger of God were overcome, and our sins were satisfied for. Now Chi'ist was head indeed, having trod all his enemies under his feet ; now he was enabled to give the Spirit. But upon his ascension into heaven, and his sitting there, he was more enabled. For even as the sun being so high above the earth, doth convey his light and heat and influence upon the inferior bodies, so Christ being so highly advanced, is fitter to infuse his Spirit and grace here below since his exaltation. Therefore, the church is fuller of gi'ace, and grace hath been more spread and diftused since the ascension of Christ than before, and the evangelist gives it as a reason, 'The Spirit was not yet given, because Christ was not ascended,' John vii. 39 ; intimating that, after his ascension, there was a more full portion of the Spirit given, God being fully appeased by the death of Christ, and Christ staying the advantage that was fittest to give the Spirit. Now God the Father gives the Spirit with the Son, so in both regards there was a greater fulness of the Spirit. Therefore, the prophets speaking of the times of Christ, especially of his exaltation, shew that then they should be filled with the Spirit, that the Spirit should be poured upon all flesh more abundantly than before. And that is the reason that the apostles so ditiered from themselves, before and after Christ's ascension. What a wondrous alteration was there ! Peter before, he flies even at the voice of a maid, and they wore full of contention and vainglory : but after we see, when the Spuit, the Holy Gliost, came down after Christ's ascension into heaven, how courageous and valorous they were, that they accounted it a matter of glory to suffer anything ; and, indeed, we have more or less valour and courage, the more or less Spirit we have. Now they having received more abundance of Spirit, hereupon they were more com-ageous and undaunted at one time than another. And this abundance of the Spii'it comes especially since Christ's advancement. But how or by what means doth Christ give his Spirit to us ? This Spirit that is so necessary for us, it is given by the ministry of the gospel, which is the ministry of the Spirit. * Received ye the Holy Ghost by the works of the law, or by the hearing of faith preached ?' Gal. iii. 2. AVhen the love of God in Christ, and the benefits by Christ, are laid open in the 24 A DESCRIPTION OF CHBIST. preaching of the gospel to us, God gives his holy Spirit, the Spirit of Christ. Now God in Christ would save us by a triumphant and abundant love and mercy, and the Spuit of God never goes but where there is a magnifying of the love and mercy of God in Christ ; therefore the ministry of the gos- pel, which only discovers the amity and love of God to mankind, being now reconciled in Christ, it is accompanied with the Spirit, to assure us of our part and portion in those benefits, for the Spirit is the fruit of God's love as well as Christ. Christ is the first gift, and the Spirit is the second, therefore that part of the word that discovers God's exceeding love to man- kind, leaving angels when they were fallen, in their cursed estate, and yet giving his Son to become man, and ' a curse for us :' the discovery of this love and mercy of God, and of his Son Christ to us, is joined with the Spirit. For by the Spirit we see our cursed estate without the love and mercy of God in Christ, and likewise we are convinced of the love of God in Christ, and thereupon we love God again, and trust to his mercy, and out of love to him perform all cheerful obedience. AVhatsoever we do else, if it be not stirred by the Spmt, apprehending the love of God in Christ, it is but morality. A man shall never go to heaven but by such a disposition and frame and temper of soul as is wrought by the Holy Ghost, persuading the soul first of the love and favour of God in Christ. What are all our performances if they be not out of love to God ? and how shall we love God except we be persuaded that he loves us first ? Therefore the gospel breeds love in us to God, and hath the Spirit together with it, working a blessed frame of sanctification, whereby we are disposed to every good duty. Therefore if we would have the Spirit of God, let us attend upon the sweet promises of salvation, upon the doctiine of Christ ; for together with the knowledge of these things, the Holy Ghost slides and insinuates and infuseth himself into our souls. Therefore the ministers of the gospel should be much in laying open the riches of God in Christ. In unfolding Christ, all other things will follow, as St Paul in Titus ii. 11, 12, ' The grace of God hath shined, hath appeared gloriously, teaching us to deny all ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to hve holily and soberly in this present world.' Where the grace and love of God is persuaded and shed into the soul, all will follow. What is the reason that former times were called dark times (and so they were), the times of popery a dark age ? Christ was veiled, the gospel was veiled, there was no preaching of salvation by Christ alone, people were sent to stocks and stones, and to saints, and instead of the word, they were sent to legends and such things. Christ was obscured, thereupon they were dark ages. Those ages wherein the Spirit of God is most, is where Christ is most preached, and people are best always where there is most Spirit ; and they ai'e most joyful and comfortable ancf holy, where Christ is truly laid open to the hearts of people. The preaching of mere morality, if men be not careful to open Christ, to know how salvation is wrought by Christ, and how all good comes by Christ, it will never make a man perfectly good and fit him for heaven. It may make a man reform many abuses, like a philosopher, which hath its reward and respect amongst men, but nothing to give comfort at the hour of death and the day of judgment. Only that whereby the Spirit is conveyed, is the knowledge and preaching of Christ in his state and offices. Again, the Spirit of Christ is given in obedience to this gospel, Acts v. 32. He gives the Holy Ghost to them that obey him. Now, there is the obe- dience of faith, and the obedience of Hfe. When the soul is wrought to A DESCRIPTION OF CHKIST. ' 25 obedience, to believe, and to be directed by God, then the Holy Spu-it is given in a further measure still. The Holy Ghost is given to them that obey, to them that do not resist the Spirit of God. For in the ministry of the gospel the Spirit is given in some degree to reprobates. It is offered, it knocks at the hearts of the vilest persons, that live in filthj^ and false courses of life, whose tongues and bodies are all instruments of an unsanc- tified soul to offend God. They have gracious motions offered them, but then they do not obey them. Therefore the Spirit seizeth not upon them, to rule in them. They have the Spirit knocking upon them ; he doth not dweU in them, and take up his lodging in them. The Spirit is given to them that obey the sweet motions of it. Now, who is it that hears the blessed word of God, the blessed tidings of salvation, but he hath sweet motions of the Spirit to be in love with God, and the mercy of God, and to hate sin a little for a time, then presently upon it corruption joins and swells against those motions, and they only rest in the bare motion, and never come to any perfection. This is the state of reprobates in the church. They have many motions by the Holy Ghost, but their hearts are not subdued to obedience, not to constant obedience. Therefore, if we would have the Spirit of Christ, let us labour to subject ourselves unto it. When we have any good motion by the ministry of the word, or by con- ference, or by reading of good things (as holy things have a savour in them, the Spirit breathes in holy exercises). Oh give way to the motions of God's Spirit. We shall not have them again perhaps, turn not back those blessed messengers, let us entertain them, let the Spirit dwell and rule in us. It is the most blessed lodger that ever we entertained in all our lives. If we let the Spirit guide and rule us, it will lead us and govern and support us in life and death, and never leave us tiU it have raised our bodies (the Spirit of Christ in us at length will quicken our dead bodies), Rom. viii. 11, it wiU never leave us tiU it have brought us to heaven. This is the state of those that belong to God, that give way to the motions of God's Spirit to rule and guide them. Therefore, if we would have the Spirit of Christ, let us take heed of rebelling against it. This is the state of many of us, — the Lord be merciful to us, and cure us, — that we do not only not receive the motions of the Spirit deeply into us, but if they be such as cross us in our pleasures and profits, though the word and Spirit join together, there is a rising of the proud spirit of man against so much of the Spirit and the motions of it, and against such parts of the word as crosseth us. This will be laid heavy to our charge one day, that we would bring the Spirit of God to our corruptions, and not bring our hearts to God's Spirit ; and hereupon be those phrases in the Scripture of tempting the Spirit. Ananias and Sapphira tempted the Spirit, Acts v. 9 — that is, when men will do that which is naught, and try whether God will forgive them, and put it off" or no. How many are there that tempt the Spiiit, that put it off, ' Perhaps I shall have the like motions another time,' ' I shall have better occasion when I can gain no more, when I can have my pleasure no more.' Thus men resist the Spirit, as St Stephen saith. Acts vii. 51 — that is, when the Spirit discovers to them what they should believe, and what they should do, and they see it crosseth their resolution to be naught. Hereupon they resist the work of the Spirit, that else would close with their souls, and sanctify them, and fit them for heaven, if they would give way to it. And there is a quenching of the Spirit — that is, when men have sweet motions of the Spirit, and presently by some ill language or course of life tJaey defile 26 A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. their vessels, and quench the sweet motions of the Spirit. Let us take heed of all these, of tempting, of resisting, and quenching the Spirit. For undoubtedly, living in the bosom of the church, we have many heavenly motions, especially those that have so much goodness in them as to attend upon God's ordinances. They have those motions at those times that they never have after perhaps, but they either resist them or quench them, and Avrong and grieve the Spirit, as St Paul saith, ' Grieve not the Spirit of God, whereby you are sealed to the day of redemption,' Eph. iv. 30. Men speak or do somewhat that grieves the Spirit of God in them, their conscience being enlightened by the Spirit, tells them that they have done that which is naught ; yet notwithstanding, for this or that advantage, to please this or that company, they will speak or do that which is ill, and then the Spirit that was given in some measure before is grieved at this carnal and sinful liberty. Therefore, if ye would be guided by the Spmt of Christ, take heed of all these, and of such hke courses. Another means whereby we may come to obtain the Spirit is prayer. To be guided by the Spirit of Christ, next to Christ himself, our Saviour, is the most excellent thing in the world, therefore it is worth the begging and getting. ' How much more shall your heavenly Father give his Holy Spirit to them that ask him?' Luke xi. 13, insinuating that we can ask nothing greater than the Spirit. A man that hath a sanctified judgment, next the forgiveness of his sins through Christ, he begs nothing more than the Spirit to witness the favour of God in Christ, and to fit him for other favours, especially to fit us for the world to come. God can give nothing greater, nor can we beg nothing greater, if we have sanctified judgments, than the Spuit of God. Therefore let us have an high esteem of the Holy Spirit, of the motions of it, and out of an high esteem in our hearts beg of God the guidance of the Spirit, that he would lead us by his Spirit, and subdue our corruptions, that we may not be led by our own lusts, and so consequently by Satan, that leads us by our own lusts in the way that leads to perdition. So much for that, ' I will put my Spirit,' &c. A7id he shall shew jiulgment to the Gentiles. — After Christ was fully fm*- nished, as he was fm-nished with the Spirit of God, and with a commission from heaven, fi'om Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, having this high commission, and gifts for it by the Spirit, he falls upon his ofiice presently. We are never fit for anything till we have the Spnit, and when we have the Spirit it is active and \dgorous and working. ' He shall shew judgment to the Gentiles.' What is meant by judgment here ? By judgment is meant laws. He shall declare his laws, his truth, and, together with declaring the truth of the gospel, which is his evangelical law, he shall declare it in the soul, and bow the neck of the inward man to the obedience of this his judgment. Christ then, by himself and his apostles and ministers, shall declare his truth, which is the sceptre of his govern- ment, to the Gentiles; and not only declare it as princes do their laws, by proclamations and statutes, &c., but ho shall declare it to the heart, by his Spirit. Now, in the Hebrew language, ordinarily, wise government is called judgment (/>). He shall declare judgment, that is, his manner of government, he shall declare it by his Spirit, and cause our spirits to submit to it. And, indeed, grace is caUed judgment, in the phrase of Scripture, the grace of sanctification, because it is agreeable to judgment, to God's law. it is agreeable to it, and wrought by it in the soul, and it is the best judg- ment. For grace whereby the soul is subject to the judgment and law and A DESCRIPTION OF CKEIST. 27 rule of God, it must needs be the best judgment, because it is agreeable to God's judgment. Grace judgeth aright of things, and subdues all things, the affections and inward man to itself. But why is the word of God called judgment ? It is called so frequently in the Psalms, and in other places of Scripture, because the truth of God shews what God doth judge. Judgment is originally in God, who is the first truth and the first good. The first truth judgeth best of truths ; what is light and what is darkness, what is truth and what is error, what is good and what is ill, what is safe and what is dangerous. All will grant that God is the first light and the first truth ; therefore, he doth originally judge of the difference of things ; for even as in the creation he put an eternal difference between hght and darkness, and severed things that were in the confused chaos, and estabhshed an orderly world, that heaven should be above, and earth below, that one thing should be above another, and all in judgment ; so in the governing of mankind, he shews his judgment by his word, and that word shews how God judgeth of things. Laws shew judgment, what is to be done, and what is not to be done. The gospel shews God's judgment, what he will have us believe and hope for, and how we must carry ourselves in way of thankfulness. If we do this, then the gospel, the word of God, judgeth what shall become of us ; 'we shall be saved,' Mark svi. 16. If we do the contraiy, the word again judgeth what oui* state shall be, ' we shall be damned,' ibid. So it is called judgment, because it judgeth what is good and what is ill, and because it determineth what shall become of us if we obey or disobey. Hereupon it is that the word of God is a glass wherein we may see our own condition infallibly, what will become of us. The word of God judgeth thus : he that lives in such and such sins shall come to this end, God will inflict these and these judgments upon him. Judgment, in the first place, is, You shall do this and this, because it is good. Judgment, in the second place, is. Because you have not done this, this shall befall you. So the evangelical judgment of the gospel is this, ' He that repents and believes shall not perish, but have everlasting life,' John iii. 15 ; but he that arms and furnisheth his heart to rebellion, he shall perish in his sins, ' He that believeth not is condemned already, the wrath of God hangs over his head,' John iii. 18. So from this, that God's truth is called judgment, we may know how to judge of ourselves, even as God judgeth in his word. We may see our own faces and conditions there. He that is a man of death may see it in the word, and ho that is appointed for happiness may there see his condition. Again, not only the word of God, the gospel, which is out of us in the book of God, is called judgment, but the work of God in the soul, sanctifi- cation, is called judgment. Hence, we may observe what is the most judicious course in the world, the most judicious frame of soul, when it is framed to the judgment and truth of God, being the first truth. When a man is sanctified and set in a holy frame, it is fi'om a sanctified judgment. The flesh is subject to the Spuit. Here is all in a gracious order. The baser part doth not rule the higher, but the higher part of the soul, a sanctified judgment, rules all, because the whole is in right judgment. Therefore, sanctification is called judgment, and other courses, though they be never so fashionable, are but madness and folty and disorder in the cen- sure in the Scripture. Nothing is judgment and true wisdom, but sanctifi- cation and obedience flowing fi-om sanctification. Therefore, saith Moses, in Deut. iv. 6, ' Then shall you be known to be a wise people when you 28 A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. obey the laws that I have given you.' Only that, shews a wise, judicious man to be obedient to God's truth by the Spirit sanctifying him. Without the truth of God and the Spirit in us, framing our souls answerable to the truth, we are out of all good order ; for then the affections that should be ruled, rule us ; then the body and the lusts of the body rule the soul ; and the devil rules by both. What a shameful disorder is this, when a man shall be ruled by the devil and his own lusts, that he should tread under feet and trample upon ! And this is the state of all that have not this judgment in them, that have not the word of God written in their hearts, bowing and bending them by the Sphit of God to spiritual obedience. To prove this, I wiU name but one place among many, Tit. iii. 3 ; he shews the state of all men that are not brought into subjection by this judgment, by the word and Spirit of truth. We, om'selves, saith he, ' were sometimes foolish and disobedient ;' till this judgment is set up in us, we are foolish in our understandings, and disobedient in our wills and affections, deceived and misled by the devil and om* own lusts : for that foUows upon folly. Those that are foohsh and disobedient are deceived and led away to eternal destruction. ' There is a way that seems good in a man's own eyes, but the issues of it are death,' saith Solomon, Prov. xiv. 12. This is the state of all men that are not led with the judgment of God's truth and Spirit, sanctifying and framing their souls to obedience, they are foohsh and disobedient and deceived, and so it will prove with them in the end, ' serving diverse lusts, and pleasures, Uving in malice and envy, hating one another,' Titus iii. 3. Now when God by his blessed truth and Spirit sets up his rule in the heart, it brings all into captivity ; as St Paul saith, it brings all the inner man into subjection : ' The word of God is the weapon of God ; these judgments are mighty in operation, together with the Spirit, to beat down all strongholds and to set up another judgment there ; it brings all into captivity to the truth and command of God, and to the motions of the Spirit, 2 Cor. x. 4, 6 (c). The word and Spirit beat down all the strongholds that are raised up in the heart by Satan, and our cor- ruptions. So we see here what is meant by this phrase, ' he shall declare judgment to the Gentiles.' It is a mihtant word, therefore I have stood somewhat the longer in unfolding of it. Now this is wrought by the preaching of the gospel, ' he shall declare judgment to the Gentiles.' All grace comes by declaring ; ' The gospel is the power of God to salvation,' Rom. i. 16. Let but the gospel (which is God's judgment how men shall be saved, and how they shall walk in obedience by way of thankfulness to God) be declared, and all that belong to God shall come in, and yield homage to it, and be brought in subjection. The devil in the antichristian state knows this well enough. Therefore he labours to hinder the declaration of judgment by all means ; he will not have God's judgments but men's traditions declared. He knows the declaring of God's judgments will breed an alteration quickly in men's dispositions : For when he saith, he shall declare judgment to the Gentiles, he means the conse- quent as well as the thing, he shall so declare judgment that they shall yield spiritual obedience and come in and be saved. Let the devil do his worst, let all seducers of souls do their worst, if they would but give way to the preaching of the gospel, let but judgment be declared, let God's arm be stretched forth in delivering the truth, he would soon gain souls out of the captivity and bondage of Satan. They know it well enough ; therefore by all the ways they can, they stop the preaching of the gospel, and disgrace and hinder it, and set up men's traditions instead A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. 29 of the gospel. But I will not enlarge myself farther upon these words, but go on to the next. He shall not strive nor cry, neither shall any man hear his voice in the streets. — These words set down the mild and sweet and amiable manner of Christ's carriage upon earth. Here, in his first coming to work the great work of our redemption, he did not cany the matter in an outward glorious manner, in pomp ; but he would have his miracles concealed ofttimes and himself hidden. His Godhead was hid under the veil of his manhood. He could not have wrought our salvation else. If the devil and the world had known Christ to be as he was, they would never have made those attempts against him. Therefore, considering he had such a dispensation to work our salvation as a king, priest, and prophet, he would not cry and contend and strive, he would not come with any great noise. Now, here is an opposition to the giving of the law, and likewise to the coming and carriage of civil princes. You know when the law was given all the mount was on fire, and the earth thereabout quaked and trembled, and the people fled. They could not endure to hear the voice of God speaking in the mount ; there was such a terrible smoke and fire, they were all afraid. Thus came Moses. Now, did Christ come as Moses ? Was the gospel dehvered by Christ as the law was, in terrors and fears ? Oh, no. Christ came not in such a terrible manner, in thunder and hghtning ; but the gospel, it came sweetly. A dove, a mild creature, lit upon the head of Christ when he was baptized, to shew his mild manner of carriage ; and he came with blessing in his mouth in his fii'st sermon of all : 'Blessed are the poor in spu-it, blessed are they that moui'n, blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness,' Matt. v. 3, 4, 6. The law came with curses : ' Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things written in the law to do them,' Gal. iii. 10. Christ came in another manner; the gospel was delivered in a mild, sweet manner. Chi'ist, as an ambassador, came sweetly to entreat and beseech. There is a crying, indeed, but it is a crying out of love and entreaty, not a shouting in a terrible manner as was at the giving of the law, no, nor as at the coming of other civil princes into a city, with shouting and noise of trumpets, with pomp, and state, and great attendants. Christ came not into the world to execute his kingdom and ofiice in such pomp and noise as it is said of Agi'ippa, Acts XXV. 23, ' He came with great pomp.' So worldly princes carry things thus, and it is needful in some sort. People must have shows and pomp ; the outward man must have outward things to astonish it withal. It is a policy in state so to do. But Christ came in another manner. He came not to make men quake and tremble that came to speak and deal with him. He came not with clamour and fierceness ; for who would have come to Christ then ? But he came in a mild, and sw^eet, and amiable manner. We see a little before the text (ver. 16), upon occasion of the inference of these words, he commands and chargeth them that they should not discover him and make him known. When he had done a good work he would not have it known. Now, there are three things especially insinuated m this description, * He shall not strive nor cry, neither shall any man hear his voice in the street.' That Christ should not be outwardly glorious to pubhsh his own excellency, nor contentious ; he should not cry nor quarrel, nor he should not be clamorous, if he had any wrong, to be all on fire presently, but he should be as a meek lamb, he should make no noise, he should not come in vainglory or clamour, &c. But here we must know that Christ was a wise discerner of the fitness of 30 A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. times ; for sometimes he would have things pubhshed, sometimes he would not ; sometimes he would be known, sometimes he would not. Christ, in his second coming, shall come all in majesty and glory with his angels, and all the earth shall appear before him ; but now his wisdom told him, now he came to save the world as a prophet, priest, and king, to work man's salvation, that he must hide and conceal himself; and so he ordered all his courses by discretion. Every sacrifice must be salted with salt, everj'thing should be seasoned with the salt of discretion. This is the steward of all our actions, to know what is fit. Christ knew it was fittest to conceal him- self now at this time. Now, by Christ's example we should learn this, not to be vainglorious, not to make a great noise. You have some, if they do anything that is good, presently all the world must know it. This was not Christ's disposi- tion. It is a disposition that is hardly wrought out of man's heart without an exceeding great measure of the Spirit of God ; for we see good men have been given this way. David would number the people, that it might be known what a gi'eat monarch he was, what a great number of people he had, 2 Sam. xxiv. He was a good man, yet vainglorious. He smarted for it. So good Hezekiah. Ambassadors were sent to him from the king of Babylon, and that they should know that Hezekiah was no beggarly prince, out must come the vessels of the temple and all his treasm-es, to shew what a rich king the king of Judah was, 2 Kings xx. 13, et seq. His vainglory cost him all his riches, as the prophet told him. So the disciples. Before they received a gi-eat measure of the Spirit, how vainglorious were they ! They contended for the higher place ; therefore they advise Christ to go up to Jerasalem, that he might be known. As Jehu said to Jonadab, * Come up and see my zeal for the Lord of hosts,' 2 lings x. 16, he accounts it nothing unless it be seen. So flesh and blood. If there be anything done that is good, all the world must know it presently. Christ chargeth them that no noise should be made, but that they should conceal him. What should we learn hence ? To be of Christ's disposition, that is, to have no more care of the know- ledge of things than the light of the things themselves will discover, to do works of light, and if the things themselves will break forth to men's eyes and they must see oui- light shine, then let them, and imitate our good works ; but for us to blazon them abroad ourselves, it is not the spirit of Christ. Let us labour to have humility of spirit, that that may grow up with us in all our performances, that all things that we speak and do may savoiu* of a spu'it of humility, that we may seek the glory of God in all things more than our own. And let us commit the fame and credit of what we are or do to God. He will take care of that. Let us take care to be and to do as we should, and then for noise and report, let it be good or ill as God will send it. We knov/ ofttimcs it falls out that that which is precious in man's eye is abomi- nable in God's. If we seek to be in the mouths of men, to dwell in the talk and speech of men, God will abhor us, and at the hour of death it will hot comfort us what men speak or know of us, but sound comfort must be from our own conscience and the judgment of God. Therefore, let us labour to be good in secret. Christians should be as minerals, rich in the depth of the earth. That which is least seen is his riches. We should have our treasure deep. For the discovery of it we should be ready when A DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST. 31 we are called to it, and for all other accidental things, let them fall out as God in his wisdom sees good. So let us look through good report and bad report to heaven ; let us do the duties that are pleasing to God and om- own conscience, and God will be careful enough to get us applause. Was it not sufficient for Abel, that though there was no gi-eat notice taken what faith he had, and how good a man he was, yet that God knew it and discovered it ? God sees our sincerity and the truth of our hearts, and the graces of our inward man, he sees all these, and he values us by these, as he did Abel. As for outward things there may be a great deal of deceit in them, and the more a man gi'ows in grace, the less he cares for them. As much reputation as is fit for a man will follow him in being and doing what he should. God will look to that. Therefore we should not set up sails to our own meditations, that unless we be carried with the wind of applause, to be becalmed and not go a whit forward ; but we should be carried with the Spirit of God and with a holy desire to serve God, and our brethren, and to do all the good we can, and never care for the speeches of the world, as St Paul saith of himself: ' I care not what ye judge of me, I care not what the world judgeth, I care not for man's judgment,' 1 Cor. iv. 3. This is man's day. We should, from the example of Christ, labour to subdue this infirmity which we are sick of naturally. Christ concealed himself till he saw a fitter time. We shall have glory enough, and be known enough to devils, to angels, and men ere long. Therefore, as Chiist lived a hidden life, that is, he was not known what he was, that so he might work our sal- vation, so let us be content to be hidden men. A true Christian is hidden to the world till the time of manifestation comes. When the time came, Christ then gloriously discovered what he was ; so we shall be discovered what we are. In the mean time, let us be careful to do our duty that may please the Spirit of God, and satisfy om* own conscience, and leave aU the rest to God. Let us meditate, in the fear of God, upon these directions for the guidance of our lives in this particular. NOTES. (a) P. 6. — ' Ked, well-coloured earth.' The allusion is to the name of Adam, or man — mj^, red, ruddy — and to his derivation, as recorded in Gen. ii. 7. (b) P. 26. — ' In the Hebrew language ordinarily wise government is called judg- ment.' This holds of various Hebrew terras. In tJie passage explained (Isa. xlii. 1), the term rendered judgment, is J^S^Di which is equivalent to nili^) ^^"'• T ; • T (c) p. 28. — 2 Cor. x. 4, 5. Sibbes's translation of this somewhat difficult passage may be profitably compared with Alford, Stanley, Hodge, and others, in loc. It is surprising how many of these unpretending and almost incidental renderings anticipate the results of the highest scholarship of our time. He may not be — who is ? — invariably accurate critically, but he rarely fails in his insight into the ' mind of the Spirit.' G. THE BRUISED REED AND SMOKING FLAX. I VOL. I. NOTE. The editions of the ' Bruised Reed and Smoking Flax ' knoTvn to the editor are, with the letters used to designate those collated for the present publication, as follows : — (a) The Brvised Reede, and Smoaking Flax. Some Sermons contracted out of the 12. of Matth. 20. At the desire, and for the good of weaker Christians. By R. Sibbes, D.D. Zach. 4, 10, Who hath despised the day of small things ? London, Printed for R. Dawlman, dwelling at the signe of the Brazen Serpent in Paul's Church-yard. 1630. 18mo. A. This is the first edition. {b) ' The second Edition, enlarged.' 1G31. 18mo. B. (c) 3d edition 1631. 18mo. {d) 4th „ 1632. ISmo. (e) 5th „ 'corrected,' 1635. ISmo. E (f) 6th „ 1638. 18mo. {g) 6th „ [so designated] ' corrected, and divided into chapters.' 1658. 18mo. G. The text of our reprint is E, as having been the last issued during the lifetime of Sibbes. The ' corrections' and ' enlargements' of B, and the original readings of A, are noted. These will shew the watchful pains which Sibbes took in the matter even of style. It also deepens the regret that so many of his writings labour under the disadvantage of posthumous publication. The division ' into chapters,' which we probably owe to the celebrated John Goodwin, who also prefixed an admirable ' Epistle' to another of Sibbes's volumes (Exposition of Philippians, c. iii., &c., &c., 4to, 1639), it has been deemed advisable to retain. It is the form in which all subsequent editions have appeared. The ' various readings,' are given as foot-notes. O I TO THE EIGHT HONOURABLE SIE HOKATIO VEEE, KNIGHT, LORD VERE OF TILBURY, AND GENERAL OF THE ENGLISH FORCES UNDER THE HIGH AND MIGHTY LORDS THE STATES GENERAL OF THE UNITED PROVINCES IN THE NETHERLANDS : * AND TO HIS PIOUS CONSORT, THE LADY MAEY VEEE,t increase of grace, etc. Right Honourable, Soldiers that carry their lives in their hands had need, above all others, to carry grace in their hearts, that so having made peace with God, they may be fit to encounter with men ; and having by faith in Christ dis- armed death before they die, they may sacrifice their life with the more * Sir Horatio Vere was the youngest son of Geffrey de Vera, Esq., who again was son of John Vere, 15th Earl of Oxford. He was born at Kirkby Hall, Essex, in 1565. As the titles of the present ' Epistle Dedicatory ' shew, he was a military commander of note, only second to his illustrious brother Sir Francis. Keturning from a campaign in Bohemia, 'in 1622-3, the king (James I.), according to Camden, ' received him so graciously and thankfully, that forgetting himself, he stood bare to him.' On the accession of Charles I., in 1625, he was, in consideration of his eminent services, raised to the peerage, by the title of Lord Vere, Baron Tilbury. He was the first peer created by Charles. He died, May 2. 1635, only three months before Sibbes himself. Besides the tribute of the author of the ' Bruised Keed.' to the worth of Sir Horatio, Fuller has burnished his name as of one renowned for piety, meekness, and valour. A volume of poems, now rarely to be met with, was published on his death. It is entitled, ' Elegies, celebrating the happy memory of Horatio Vere.' (London, 1642, 8vo.) For full ' Memoirs ' of him, consult the Extinct Peerage books. G, t Lady Mary Vere. — Anderson in his ' Memorable omen of the Puritan Times,' (2 vols., 1862, just issued,) has given a singularly interesting, and on the whole, accurate account of this remarkable Lady. (See vol. i. pp. 31-85.) It was to her the Parliament entrusted the care of the children of Charles I. She died on the 25th of December 1671, in the ninety-fijst year of her age. Gurnall preached her funeral sermon. G. 86 EPISTLE DEDICATORY. courage and comfort, which to neglect, being a matter of eternity, is not valour, but desperate madness, because in this business, as in oversights of "war, there is no place for a second repentance, the first error being un- recoverable. In evils above the strength of man to prevail against* and his patience to endure, there God hath planted the affection of fear, which might stir us up to avoid the danger by flying to him in Christ, who being our friend, it is no matter who is our enemy : we may be killed, but cannot be hurt ; so safe it is to be under his command that hath command over death, hell, judgment, and all that we most fear. Yet such is our nature, that by familiarity with danger, we grow by degrees insensibly to be hard- ened against it, and to look no further than death, as if to die were only to give up the ghost, and then an end of all. And hereupon it is, that they that follow the wars are generally taken to be men not most religious ; the more respect those of that profession deserve, that have learned upon what terms to live and die, that are sure of a better life before they leave this, that have laid up their life in Christ ; amongst whom, Right Honourable, the world hath a long time taken notice of you, in whom both religion and military employment, meekness of spirit with height of courage, humility with honour, by a rare and happy combination have met together. Whereby you have much vindicated your profession from common imputation, and shewed that piety can enter into tents, and follow after camps, and that God hath his Joshuas and his Corneliuses in all ages. But I wiU not use many words of yourself to yourself, because though you have done much that may and will be spoken, yet you love not to hear or speak of what you have done. It may seem to some unbefitting to offer a discourse of a * bruised reed ' to such a strong and flourishing cedar. But experience sheweth that the strongest plants in God's house are exposed sometimes to strong winds of temptation, and thereupon meet with bruisings, that they may the better know by whose strength they stand, and that the greatest may learn to go out of themselves to the same common rock and fountain of strength with the meanest. David was a valiant man ; yet upon experience of his oft failings and recoveries, he became towards God as a weaned child. Low- liness of mind to Godward and greatness of spirit against His enemies may well stand together ; for the way to be above all other things is to submit to God first. Besides, this text speaketh of the prevaiHng government of Christ in his church and in his children, which may be an encourage- ment to 3'our Lordship still, not only to own the cause of Christ in these times, wherein men are ashamed of what they should glory in, and glory in their shame ; but likewise to fight the Lord's battles, when called to it, and help him against the mighty, for victory attendeth Christ's side in the end. Though God, to revenge the quarrel of his covenant, suffer his enemies to prevail yet for a time, to harden them the more, yet they have undei-taken a damned cause ; and howsoever the church hath justly provoked God, yet the cause shall stand impregnable against all created * ' Against,' added first in B. EPISTLE DEDICATORY. • 87 power of devils and men. Wc naturally desire ^-ictoiy, and many desii-e it more than truth or goodness, which only are victorious ; and so out of a depraved judgment they cross their own desires, seeking to overcome in that wherein it were safer for them to be overcome. These * are sui'e to meet with shame in the conclusion instead of victory ; or else we must deny Christ to be King of his chm-ch and Judge of the world. Proceed on stUl, Honourable Lord, to stand for Christ both in peace and war, and this shall be foimd to your honour when Christ shall come ' to be glorious in his saints,' 2 Thess. i. 10, that he thought you worthy to honour himself by, when others, that oppose or betray the cause of Christ for base ends, shall not dare to hold up their heads. I would not divide you from your Honourable Lady, being obliged to both, and both being one, as in other bands, so in that above nature, in love to the best things ; both exemplary in all rehgious courses ; both in your places, likewise, having been employed in great services for the common good, so that not only this but foreign States are bound to bless God for you both. Going on in these ways, j'ou will find God making his promise good of honouring them that honour him. I do not so far overvalue this poor work as to think it worthy of your Honours, but thus I thought meet to witness my deserved respect to you both. If I be to blame for suflering these sermons, long since preached, thus to come forth, others must divide the fault with me, who had brought it to that pass that it was almost necessary for me to take this course. The Lord continue to bless your Honours, with all your branches, and to maintain his grace in you, * untU he hath brought forth judgment unto victoxy,' Mat. xii. 20. Your Honours' to command in the Lord, RICHARD SIBBES. * ' They,' in A. ,20443 TO THE aENEEAL EEADEK. To prevent a farther inconvenience, I was drawn to let these notes pass with some review, considering there was an intendment of pubHshing them, by some who had not perfectly taken them ; and these first, as being next at hand : and having had occasion lately of some fresh thoughts con- cerning this argument, by deaUng with some, the chief ground of whose trouble was the want of considering of the gracious nature and office of Christ ; the right conceit of which is the spring of all service to Christ, and comfort from him. God hath laid up aU grace and comfort in Christ for us, and planted a wonderful sweetness of pity and love in his heart towards us. As God his father hath fitted him ivith a body, Heb. x. 7, so with a heart to be a merciful Redeemer. What do* the Scriptui'es speak but Christ's love and tender care over those that are humbled ? and besides the mercy that resteth in his own breast, he works the like impression in his ministers and others, to comfort the feeble-minded, and to bear uith the weak, 1 Thess. V. 14. Ministers by their calling are fi-iends of the Bride, and to bring Christ and his Spouse together, and therefore ought, upon all good occasions, to lay open all the excellencies of Christ, and amongst others, as that he is highly born, mighty. One ' in whom all the treasures of wisdom are hid,' Col. ii. 3, &c., so likewise gentle, and of a good nature, and of a gracious disposition. It cannot but cheer the heart of the spouse, to con- sider, in all her infii-mities and miseries she is subject to,f that she hath a husband of a kind disposition, that knows how to give the honour of mild usage to the weaker vessel, that wiU be so far from rejecting her, because she is weak, that he will pity her the more. And as he is kind at all times, so especially when it is most seasonable; he will speak to her heart, ' espe- cially in the wilderness,' Hos. ii. 24. The more glory to God, and the more comfort to a Christian soul, ariseth from the belief and application of these things, the more the enemy of God's glory and man's comfort labours to breed mispersuasions of them, that if he cannot keep men from heaven, and bring them into that cursed condition he is in himself, yet he may trouble them in their passage ; some and none of the worst, Satan prevails Avithal so far as to neglect the means, upon fear they should, being so sin- ful, dishonour God and increase their sins ; and so they lie smothering under this temptation, as it were bound hand and foot by Satan, not daring to make out to Christ, and yet are secretly upheld by a spirit of faith, shewing itself in hidden sighs and groans unto God. These are abused by false representations of Christ ; all whose ways to such being ways of mercy, and all his thoughts, thoughts of love. The more Satan is malicious * ' Doth/ iu A and B. f ' Unto,' iu A and B. TO THE CHRISTIAN EEADEE. 39 in keeping the soul in darkness, the more care is to be had of establishing the soul upon that which wiU stay it. Amongst other grounds to build our faith on, as the free offer of grace to all that will receive it. Rev. xxii.17 ; the gracious in\itation of all that are weaiy and heavy laden, Matt. xi. 28 ; those that have nothing to buy withal, Isa. Iv. 1 ; the command binding to beheve, 1 John. iii. 23 ; the danger of not believing, being shut up prisoners thereby under the guilt of all other sins, John xvi. 9 ; the sweet entreaty to believe, and ordaining ambassadors to desire peace, 2 Cor. v. 20 ; put- ting tender affections into them, answerable to their calling, ordaining sacraments for the sealing of the covenant. Besides these, I say, and such moving inducements, this is one infusing vigour and strength into all the rest, that they proceed from Christ, a pei'son authorised, and from those bowels that moved him not only to become a man, but a curse for us ; hence it is, that he ' ivill not quench the smokuig wick or flax.' It adds strength to faith to consider, that all expressions of love issue from nature in Christ, which is constant. God knows that, as we are prone to sin, so, when conscience is thoroughly awaked, we are as prone to despair for sin ; and therefore he would have us know, that he setteth himself in the covenant of grace to triumph in Christ over the greatest evils and enemies we fear, and that his thoughts are not as our thoughts are, Isa. v. 8 ; that he is God, and not man, Hos. xi. 9 ; that there are heights, and depths, and breadths of mercy in him above aU the depths of our sin and misery, Eph. iii. 18 ; that we should never be in such a forlorn condition, wherein there should be ground of despair, considering our sins be the sins of men, his mercy the mercy of an infinite God. But though it be a truth clearer than the sunbeams, that a broken-hearted sinner ought to embrace mercy so strongly enforced ; yet there is no truth that the heart shutteth itself more against than this, especially in sense of miseiy, when the soul is fittest for mercy, until the Holy Spnit sprinkleth the conscience with the blood of Christ, and sheddeth his love into the heart, that so the blood of Christ in the conscience may cry louder than the guilt of sin ; for only God's Spirit can raise the conscience with comfort above guilt, because he only is greater than the conscience. Men may speak comfort, but it is Christ's Spuit that can only comfort. Peace is the fruit of the lips, but yet created to be so, Isa. Ivii. 19. No creature can take off wrath from the conscience, but he that set it on, though all the prevailing arguments be used that can be brought forth, till the Holy Ghost effectually persuadeth, by a divine kind of rhetoric, which ought to raise up our hearts to him who is the comforter of his people, that he would seal them to om* souls. Now God dealing with men as under- standing creatm-es, the manner which he useth in this powerful work upon their consciences, is by way of friendly intercom'se, as entreaty and persua- sion, and discovery of his love in Christ, and Christ's gracious inclination thus even to the weakest and lowest of men. Loquitur Deus ad modum nostnim, agit ad modum suiim. And, therefore, because he is pleased by such like motives to enter into the heart and settle a peace there, we ought with reverence to regard all such sanctified helps, and among the rest this of making use of this comfortable description of Christ by God the Father, in going boldly in all necessities to the throne of grace. But we must know this comfort is only the portion of those that give up themselves to Christ's government, that are willing in all things to be disposed of by him. For here we see in this Scripture both joined together, mercy to bruised reeds, and yet government prevaihng by degi-ees over corruptions. Christ so favoureth weak ones, as that he frameth their souls to a better condition 40 TO THE CHRISTLVN EEADEB. than they are in. Neither can it be otherwise, but that a soul looking for mercy should submit itself at the same time to be guided. Those relations of husband, head, shepherd, &c., imply not only meekness and mercy, but government likewise. When we become Christians to pui-pose, we live not exempt from all service, but only we change our Lord. Therefore, if any in an ill course of life snatch comforts before they are reached out unto them, let them know they do it at their own perils. It is as if some igno- rant man should come into an apothecary's shop, stored with variety of medicines of all sorts, and should take what comes next to hand, poison perhaps, instead of physic. There is no word of comfort in the whole book of God intended for such as regard iniquity in their hearts, Ps. Ixvi. 18 ; though they do not act it in their lives. Their only comfort is, that the sentence of damnation is not executed, and thereupon there is yet oppor- tunity of safer thoughts and resolutions, otherwise they stand not only con- victed but condemned by the word ; and Christ that rideth on the white horse, Eev. vi. 2, will spend all his arrows upon them, and wound them to death. If any shall bless himself in an ill way, God's wi-ath shall burn to hell against such. There is no more comfort to be expected fi'om Christ, than there is care to please him. Otherwise to make him an abettor of a law- less and loose life, is to transform him into a fancy, nay, into the likeness of him whose works he came to destroy, 1 John iii. 8, which is the most detestable idolatry of all. One way whereby the Spirit of Christ prevaileth in his, is to preserve them from such thoughts ; yet we see people will frame a divinity to themselves, pleasing to the flesh, suitable to their own ends, which, being vain in the substance, wiU prove likewise vain in the fruit, and as a building upon the sand. The main scope of all, is, to aUm-e us to the entertainment of Christ's mUd, safe, wise, victorious government, and to leave men naked of all pre- tences, why they will not have Christ to rule over them, when we see sal- vation not only strongly wrought, but sweetly dispensed by him. His government is not for his own pleasure, but for our good. We are saved by a way of love, that love might be kindled by this way in us to God again ; because this affection melteth the soul, and mouldeth it to all duty and acceptable manner of performance of duty. It is love in duties that God regards, more than duties themselves. This is the true and evangelical disposition arising from Christ's love to us, and our love to him again ; and not to fear to come to him, as if we were to take an elephant by the tooth. It is almost a fundamental mistake, to think that God delights in slavish fears, whenas the fruits of Christ's kingdom are peace and joy in the Holy Ghost : for from this mistake come weak, slavish, superstitious conceits. Two things trouble the peace of Christians very much (1), then* weak- nesses hanging upon them, and (2) fear of holding out for time to come. A remedy against both is in this text, for Christ is set out hero as a mild Saviour to weak ones ; and, for time to come, his powerful care and love is never interrupted, until he bring forth judgment to \dctory. And there- upon it is that both the means of salvation and grace wrought by means, and glory the perfection of grace, come all under one name of the kingdom OF God so oft ; because whom by means he brings to grace, he will by gi'ace bring to glory. This makes * the thoughts of the latter judgment comfortable unto us, that ho who is then to be our judge, cannot but judge for them who have been ruled by him here ; for whom he guides by his counsel, those he * ' Maketh,' in A and B. TO THE CHRISTLVN READER. 41 brings to glory, Ps. Ixxiii. 24. If our faith were but as firm as our state in Christ is secure and glorious, what manner of men should we be ? If I had gone about to affect writing in a high strain, I should have missed of mine end, and crossed the argument in hand. For shall we that are servants quench those weak sparks which our Lord himself is pleased to cherish ? I had rather hazard the censure of some, than hinder the good of others ; which, if it be any ways furthered by these few observations, I have what I aimed at. I intended not a treatise, but opening of a text ; what I shall be drawn to do in this kind must be by degrees, as leisure in the midst of many interruptions will permit : the Lord guide our hearts, tongues, and pens for his glory and the good of his people. RICHAED SIBBES. ♦ I THE BRUISED REED AND SMOKING FLAX. A bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he not quench, till he send forth judgment unto victory. — Matt. xii. 20. [Chaptee I. — The Text opened and divided. What the Reed is, and what the Bruising.] The prophet Isaiah being Ufted up, and carried with the wing of propheti- cal spirit, passeth over all the time between him and the appearing of Jesus Christ in the flesh, and seeth with the eye of prophecy, and with the eye of faith, Christ as present, and presenteth him, in the name of God, to the spiritual eye of others, in these words : ' Behold my servant whom I have chosen,' &c., Isa. sliii. 10. Which place is alleged by Saint Matthew as fulfilled now in Chiist, Matt. xii. 18. Wherein is propounded — ■ Fu'st, the calling of Christ to his office. Secondly, the execution of it. I. For his calling : God styleth him here his righteous servant, &c. Christ was God's servant in the greatest piece of service that ever was ; a chosen, and a choice servant : he did and suffered all by commission from the Father : wherein we may see the sweet love of God to us, that counts the work of our salvation by Christ his greatest ser\dce ; and that he wiU put his only beloved Son to that service. He might well prefix Behold, to raise up our thoughts to the highest pitch of attention and admiration. In time of temptation, misgiving consciences look so much to the present trouble they are in, that they need be roused up to behold him in whom thoy may find rest for their distressed souls. In temptations it is safest to behold nothing but Christ the true brazen serpent, the true Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the world, John i. 29. This saving object hath a special influence of comfort into the soul, especially if we look not only on Christ, but upon the Father's authority and love in him. For in all that Christ did and suftered as Mediator, wo must see God in him recon- ciling the world unto himself, 2 Cor. v. 19. What a support to our faith is this, that God the Father, the party oQcndcd by our sins, is so well pleased with the work of redemption ! And what a comfort is this, that seeing God's love resteth on Christ, as well THE BRUISED EEED AND SMOKING FLAX. 43 pleased in him, we may gather that he is as well pleased with us, if we be in Christ ! For his love resteth in whole Christ, in Christ mystical, as well as Christ natural, because he loveth him and us with one love. Let us, therefore, embrace Christ, and in him God's love, and build our faith safely on such a Saviour, that is furnished with so high a commission. See here, for our comfort, a sweet agreement of all three persons : the Father giveth a commission to Christ ; the Spii'it fumisheth and sanctifieth to it ; Christ himself executeth the office of a Mediator. Om' redemption is founded upon the joint agreement of all thi'ee persons of the Trinity. n. For the execution of this his calling, it is set down here to be modest, without making a noise, or raising dust by any pompous coming, as princes use to do. ^ His voice shall not be heard.' His voice indeed was heard, but what voice ? ' Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden,' Mat. xi. 28. He cried, but how? ^ Ho, every one that thirsteth, come,' Sec, Isa. Iv. 1. And as his coming was modest, so it was mild, which is set down in these words : The bruised reed shall he not break, &c. Wherein we may observe these three things : — First, The condition of those that Chi-ist had to deal withal. (1 .) They were bruised reeds ; (2.) smoking Ji ax. Secondly, Christ's carriage toward* them. He brake 'not the bruised reed, nor quenched the smoking flax : where more is meant than spoken ; for he will not only not break the bruised reed, nor quench, &c., but he will cherish them. Thirdly, The constancy and progress of this his tender care, ' until judg- ment come to victory' — that is, until the sanctified frame of grace begun in their hearts be brought to that perfection, that it prevaileth over aU opposite corruption. 1. For the first, the condition of men whom he was to deal withal is, that they were bruised reeds, and smoking flax ; not trees, but reeds ; and not whole, but bruised reeds. The church is compared to weak things ; to a dove amongst the fowls ; to a vine amongst the plants ; to sheep amongst the beasts ; to a woman, which is the weaker vessel : and here God's children are compared to braised reeds and smoking flax. First,f we will speak of them as they are bruised reeds, and then as smoking flax. They are bruised reeds before their conversion, and oftentimes after : before conversion all (except such as being bred up in the church, God hath delighted to shew himself gracious unto from their childhood), yet in dif- ferent degrees, as God seeth meet ; and as difierence is in regard of tem- per, parts, manner of life, &c., so in God's intendment of employment for the time to come ; for usually he empties such of themselves, and makes them nothing, before he will use them in any great services. (1.) This bruised reed is a man that for the most part is in some misery, as those were that came to Christ for help, and (2) by misery is brought to see sin the cause of it ; for whatsoever pretences sin maketh, yet bruising or breaking is the end of it ; (3) he is sensible of sin and misery, even unto bruising ; and (4), seeing no help in himself, is carried with restless desire to have supply from another, with some hope, which a httle raiseth him out of himself to Christ, though he dareth not claim any present interest of mercy. This spark of hope being opposed by doubtings, and fears rising from corruption, maketh him as smoking flax ; so that both these together, a bruised reed and smoking flax, make up the state of a poor dis- * ' Towards,' in A and B. t ' And first,' in A and B. 44 THE BRUISED REED tressed man. Such an one as our Saviour Christ termeth poor in spirit, Mat. V. 3, who seeth a want, and withal seeth himself indebted to divine justice, and no means of supply from himself or the creature, and there- upon mourns, and upon some hope of mercy from the promise and examples of those that have obtained mercy, is stirred up to hunger and thirst after it. [Chapter II. — Those that Christ hatli to do withal are BruisedJ\ This bruising is required [1] before conversion (1), that so the Spirit may make way for itself into the heart by levelling all proud, high thoughts, and that we may understand ourselves to be what indeed we are by nature. We love to wander from om'selves and to be strangers at home, till God bruiseth us by one cross or other, and then we bethink ourselves, and come home to ourselves with the prodigal (Luke xv. 17.) A marvellous hard thing it is to bring a dull and a shifting heart to cry with feeling for mercy. Om* hearts, like malefactors, until they be beaten from all shifts, never cry for the mercy of the Judge. Again (2), this bruising maketh us set a high price upon Christ. The gospel is the gospel indeed then ; then the fig-leaves of morality will do us no good. And (3) it maketh us more thankful, and (4) from thankfulness more fruitful in our lives ; for what maketh many so cold and barren, but that bruising for sin never endeared God's grace unto them ? Likewise (5), this dealing of God doth establish us the more in his ways, having had knocks and bruisings in our own ways. This is the cause oft of relapses and apostasies, because men never smarted for sin at the first ; they were not long enough under the lash of the law. Hence this inferior work of the Spirit in bringing down high thoughts, 2 Cor. x. 5, is necessary before conversion. And, for the most part, the Holy Spirit, to fm-ther the work of conviction, joineth some affliction, which, sanctified, hath a healing and purging power. Nay, [2] after conversion we need bruising, that (1) reeds may know themselves to be reeds, and not oaks; even reeds need bruising, by reason of the remainder of pride in our nature, and to let us see that we live by mercy. And (2) that weaker Christians may not be too much discouraged when they see stronger shaken and bruised. Thus Peter was bruised when he wept bitterly. Matt. xxvi. 75. This reed, till he met with this bruise, had more wind in him than pith. ' Though all forsake thee, I will not,' &c.. Matt. xxvi. 35. The people of God cannot be without these examples. The heroical deeds of those great worthies do not comfort the church so much as their falls and bruises do. Thus David was bruised, Ps. xxxii. 3—5, until he came to a free confession, without guile of spirit ; nay, his sorrows did rise in his own feeling unto the exquisite pain of breaking of bones, Ps. li. 8. Thus Hezekiah complains that God had * broken his bones' as a lion, Isa. xxxviii. 13. Thus the chosen vessel St Paul needed the messenger of Satan to buflet him, lest he should be lifted up above measure, 2 Cor. xii. 7. Hence we learn that we must not pass too harsh judgment upon our- selves or others when God doth exercise us with bruising upon bruising ; there must bo a conformity to oiu* head, Christ, who * was bruised for us,' Isa. liii. 5, that we may know how much we are bound unto him. Pro- fane spirits, ignorant of God's ways in bringing his children to heaven, censure broken-hearted Christians for desperate persons, whenas God is about a gracious good work with them. It is no easy matter to bring a AND SMOKING FLAX. 45 man from nature to grace, and from grace to glory, so unyielding and un- tractable are our hearts. [Chapter III. — Christ will not Break the Bruised B.eed.'] 2. The second point is, that Christ will not ' break the hruised reed.' Phy- sicians, though they put their patients to much pain, yet they will not de- stroy nature, but raise it up by degi'ees. Chirurgeons* will lance and cut, but not dismember. A mother that hath a sick and frowai'd child will not therefore cast it away. And shall there be more mercy in the stream than in the spring ? Shall we think there is more mercy in ourselves than in God, who planteth the affection of mercy in us ? But for further declara- tion of Christ's mercy to all bruised reeds, consider the comfortable rela- tions he hath taken upon him of husband, shepherd, brother, &c., which he will discharge to the utmost ; for shall others by his grace fulfil what he calleth them imto, and not he that, out of his love, hath taken upon him these relations, so thoroughly founded upon his Father's assignment, and his own voluntary undertaking ? Consider his borrowed names from the mildest creatures, as lamb, hen, &c., to shew his tender care ; consider his very name Jesus, a Saviour, given him by God himself; consider his office answerable to his name, which is that he should ' heal the broken-hearted,' Isa. Ixi. 1. At his baptism the Holy Ghost sate on him in the shape of a dove, to shew that he should be a dove-like, gentle Mediator. See the gi-acious manner of executing his offices. As a prophet, he came with blessing in his mouth, ' Blessed be the poor in spirit,' &c., Matt. v. 3, and invited those to come to him whose hearts suggested most exceptions against themselves, * Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden,' Matt. xi. 28. How did his bowels yearn when ' he saw the people as sheep without a shepherd ! ' Matt. ix. 36. He never turned any back again that came unto him, though some went away of themselves. He came to die as a priest for his enemies. In the days of his flesh he dictated a form of prayer unto his disciples, and put petitions unto God into their mouths, and his Spirit to intercede in their hearts ; and now makes intercession in heaven for weak Christians, standing between God's anger and them ; and shed tears for those that shed his blood. So he is a meek King ; he will admit mourners into his presence, a king of poor and afflicted persons : as he hath beams of majesty, so he hath bowels of mercies and compassion ; * a prince of peace,' Isa. ix. 6. Why was he ' tempted, but that he might succour those that are tempted,' Heb. ii. 18. What mercy may we not expect from so gracious a mediator, 1 Tim. ii. 5, that took our nature upon him that he might be gracious. He is a physician good at all diseases, especially at the binding up of a broken heart ; he died that he might heal our souls with a plaster of his own blood, and by that death save us, which we were the procurers of ourselves, by our own sins ; and hath he not the same bowels in heaven ? ' Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me ?' Acts ix. 4, cried the head in heaven, when the foot was trodden on, on earth. His advancement hath not made him forget his own flesh ; though it has freed him from passion, yet not from compassion towards us. The lion of the tribe of Judah will only tear in pieces those that ' will not have him rule over them,' Luke xix. 17. He will not shew his strength against those that prostrate themselves before him. * ' Surgeons,' in A and B. 46 THE BRUISED EEED Vse 1. What should we learn from hence, but 'to come boldly to the throne of gi'ace,' Heb. iv. 16, in all our grievances ? Shall our sins dis- courage us, when he appears there only for sinners ? Art thou bruised ? Be of good comfort, he calleth thee ; conceal not thy wounds, open all be- fore him, keep not Satan's counsel. Go to Christ though trembling ; as the poor woman, if we can but ' touch the hem of his garment,' Matt. ix. 20, we shall be healed and have a gracious answer. Go boldly to God in our flesh ; for this end that we might go boldly to him, he is flesh of our flesh, and bone of our bone. Never fear to go to God, since we have such a Mediator with him, that is not only our friend, but our brother and husband. Well might the angels proclaim from heaven, ' Behold, we bring you tidings of joy,' Luke ii. 10. Well might the apostle stir us up to ' rejoice in the Lord again and again,' Phil. iv. 4 : he was well advised upon what grounds he did it. Peace and joy are two main fruits of his kingdom. Let the world be as it will, if we cannot rejoice in the world, yet we may rejoice in the Lord. His presence maketh any condition comfortable. ' Be not afraid,' saith he to his disciples, when they were afraid as if they had seen a ghost, ' it is I,' Matt, xiv, 27, as if there were no cause of fear where he is present. Use 2. Let this stay us when we feel ourselves bruised. Chiist his course is first to wound, then to heal. No sound, whole soul shall ever enter into heaven. Think in temptation, Christ was tempted for me ; according to my trials will be my graces and comforts. If Christ be so merciful as not to break me, I will not break myself by despau-, nor yield myself over to the roaring lion Satan, to break me in pieces. Use 3. Thirdly, See the contrary disposition of Christ, and Satan and his instruments. Satan setteth upon us when we are weakest, as Simeon and Levi upon the ' Shechemites, when they were sore,' Gen. xxxiv. 25 ; but Christ will make up in us all the breaches sin and Satan have made ; he ' binds up the broken-hearted,' Isa. Ixi. 1. And as a mother tendereth most the most diseased and weakest child, so doth Christ most mercifully incline to the weakest, and hkewise putteth an instinct into the weakest things to rely upon something stronger than themselves for support. The vine stayeth itself upon the elm, and the weakest creatures have oft the strongest shelters. The consciousness of the church's weakness makes her willing to lean on her beloved, and to hide herself under his wing. [Chapter IV. — Signs of one truly bruised. — Means and measure of hndsing, and comfort to such.] Objection. But how shall we know whether we are such as those that may expect mercy ? Answer 1. By bruising here is not meant those that are brought low only by crosses, but such as by them are brought to see their sin, which bruiseth most of all. When conscience is under the guilt of sin, then eveiy judgment brings a report of God's anger to the soul, and all less * troubles run into this great trouble of conscience for sin. As all corrupt humours run to the diseased and bruised part of the body, and as every creditor falls upon the debtor when ho is once arrested, so when conscience is once awaked, all former sins and present crosses join together to make the bruise the more painful. Now, ho that is thus bruised will be content with nothing * ' Lesser,' in A and B. AND SMOKING FLAX. 47 but v/ith mercy from him that hath bruised him. ' He hath wounded, and he must heal,' Isa. Ixi. 1. Lord, thou hast braised me deservedly for my sins, bind up my heart again,* &c. 2. Again, a man truly bruised judgeth sin the greatest evil, and the favour of God the gi-eatest good. 3. He had rather hear of mercy than of a kingdom. 4. He hath mean conceits of himself, and thinketh he is not worth the earth he treads on. 5. Towards others he is not censorious, as being taken up at home, but is full of sym- pathy and compassion to those that are under God's hand. G. He thinketh those that walk in the comforts of God's Spirit the happiest men of the world. 7. ' He trembleth at the word of God,' Isa. Ix^d. 2, and honoui-eth the very feet of those blessed instruments that bring peace unto him, Kom. X. 15. 8. He is more taken up with the inward exercises of a broken heart than with formality, and yet careful to use all sanctified means to convey comfort. Question. But how shall we come to have this temper ? Ayiswer. First, we must conceive of bruising either as a state into which God bringeth us, or as a duty to be performed by us. Both are here meant. We must join with God in bruising of ourselves. When he humbles us, let us humble ourselves, and not stand out against him, for then he will redouble his strokes ; and let us justify Christ m all his chas- tisements, knowing that all his dealing towards us is to cause us to return into our own hearts. His work in bruising tendeth to our work in bruising ourselves. Let us lament our own untowardness, and saj^ Lord, what an heart have I that needs all this, that none of this could be spared ! We must lay siege to the hardness of our own hearts, and aggravate sin all we can. We must look on Christ, who was bruised for us, look on him whom we have pierced with om' sins. But all directions will not prevail, unless God by his Spirit convinceth us deeply, setting our sins before us, and driving us to a stand. Then we will make out for mercy. Conviction will breed contrition, and this humiliation. Therefore desire God that he would bring a clear and a strong light into all the corners of our souls, and accom- pany it with a spirit of power to lay our hearts low. A set measure of bruising ourselves cannot be prescribed ; yet it must be so far, as 1, we may prize Christ above all, and see that a Saviour must be had ; and 2, until we reform that which is amiss, though it be to the cutting off our right hand, or puUing out our right eye. There is a dan- gerous slighting of the work of humiliation, some alleging this for a pre- tence for their overly dealing with their own hearts, that Christ will not break the braised reed ; but such must know that every sudden terror and short grief is not that which makes us bruised reeds ; not a little hawiing down our heads like a bidncsh, Isa. Iviii. 5, but a working our hearts to such a grief as will make sin more odious unto us than punishment, until we offer an holy violence against it ; else, favouring ourselves, we make work for God to braise us, and for sharp repentance afterwards. It is dangerous, I confess, in some cases with some spirits, to press too much and too long this bruising, because they may die under the wound and burden before they be raised up again. Therefore it is good in mixed assemblies to mingle comfort, that every soul may have its due portion. But if we lay this for a ground, that there is more mercy in Christ than sin in us, there can be no danger in thorough dealing. It is better to go bruised to heaven than sound to hell. Therefore let us not take off ourselves too soon, nor pull off the plaster before the cure be wrought, but keep ourselves under * ' Lord .... again,' not in A and B, but in E. 48 THE BRUISED REED this work till sin be tlie sourest, and Christ the sweetest, of all things. And when God's hand is upon us in any kind, it is good to divert our sorrow for other things to the root of all, which is sin. Let our grief run most in that channel, that as sin bred grief, so grief may consume sin. Quest. But are we not bruised unless we giieve more for sin than we do for punishment? An^:. Sometimes our grief from outward grievances may lie heavier upon the SGul than grief for God's displeasm-e ; because in such cases the grief works upon the whole man, both outward and inward, and hath nothing to stay it, but a little spark of faith : which, by reason of the violent impression of the grievance, is suspended in the exercises of it : and this is most felt in sudden distresses which come upon the soul as a torrent or land-flood, and especially in bodily distempers, which by reason of the sjTnpathy between the soul and the body, work upon the soul so far as they hinder not only the spiritual, but often the natural acts. Hereupon St James wisheth in affliction to pray ourselves, but in case of sickness to send for the elders, James v. 14 ; that may, as those in the gospel, offer up the sick person to God in their prayers, being unable to present their own case. Hereupon God admitteth of such a plea from the sharpness and bitterness of the grievance, as in David, Ps. vi., &c. 'The Lord knoweth whereof we are made, he remembereth we are but dust,' Ps. ciii. 14 ; that om* strength is not the strength of steel. It is a branch of his faithfulness unto us as his creatures, whence he is called ' a faithful Creator,' 1 Pet. iv. 19 ; ' God is faithful, who will not sufler us to be tempted above that we are able,' 1 Cor. X. 13. There were certain commandments which the Jews called the hedges of the law : as to fence men off from cruelty, he commanded they should ' not take the dam with the yomig, nor seethe the kid in the mother's milk,' Exod. xxiii. 19 ; * nor muzzle the mouth of the ox,' 1 Cor. ix. 9. Hath God care of beasts, and not of his more noble creature ? And therefore we ought to judge charitably of the complaints of God's people which are wrung from them in such cases. Job had the esteem with God of a patient man, not\vithstanding those passionate complaints. Faith overborne for the present will get ground again ; and grief for sin, although it come short of gi"ief for misery in violence, yet it goeth beyond it in con- stancy ; as a running stream fed mth a spring holdeth out, when a sudden swelling brook faileth. For the concluding of this point, and om* encom-agement to a thorough work of bruising, and patience under God's bruising of us, let all know that none are fitter for comfort than those that think themselves furthest off. Men, for the most part, are not lost enough in their own feeling for a Saviour. A holy despair in om'selves is the gromid of true hope, Hos. xiv. 3. In God the fatherless find mercy : if men were more fatherless, they should feel more God's fatherly affection from heaven ; for God that dwelleth in highest heavens, Isa. Ixvi. 2, dwelleth likewise in the lowest soul. Christ's sheep are weak sheep, and wanting in something or other ; he therefore applieth himself to the necessities of every sheep. * He seeks that which was lost, and brings again that which was driven out of the way, and binds up that which was broken, and strengthens the weak,' Ezek. xxxiv. 16 ; his tenderest care is over the w^eakest. The lambs he carrieth in his bosom, Isa. xl. 11 ; 'Peter, feed my lambs,' John xxi. 15. Ho was most familiar and open to the troubled souls. How careful was ho that Peter and the rest of the apostles should not be too much dejected after his resurrection I ' Go, tell the disciples, and tell Peter,' Mark xvi. 7. AND SMOKING FL,VX. 49 Christ knew that gxiilt of their unkindness in leaving of him had de- jected their spirits. How gently did he endure Thomas his unbelief! and stooped so far unto his weakness, as to suffer him to thrust his hand into ^ his side (a). —> [Chapter V. — Grace is little at first.] For the second branch, God will not quench the smoking flax, or wick, but will blow it up till it flameth. In smoking flax there is but a little light, and that weak, as being not able to flame, and this little mixed with smoke. The observations hence are, first, 'That in GocCs children, especially in their first conversion, there is but a little measure of grace, and that little mia'ed tcith much corruption, which, as smoke, is offensive. Secondly, That Christ icill not quench this smoking flax. Obs. 1. For the first, Grace is little at the first. There are several ages in Chi'istians, some babes, some j'oung men : grace is as 'a gi'ain of mus- tard seed,' Matt. xvii. 20. Nothing so httle as grace at first, and nothing more glorious afterward : things of greatest perfection are longest in coming to their gi'owth. Man, the perfectest creature, comes to perfection by little and Httle ; worthless things, as mushrooms and the like, like Jonah's gourd, soon spring up, and soon vanish. A new creatm-e is the most excellent frame in all the world, therefore it groweth up by degrees ; we see in nature that a mighty oak riseth of an acorn. It is with a Christian as it was with Christ, who sprang out of the dead stock of Jesse, out of David's family, Isa. hii. 2. when it was at the lowest, but he grew up higher than the heavens. It is not with the trees of righteousness as it was ^^dth the trees of paradise, which were created all perfect at the fii'st. The seeds of all the creatures in this goodly frame of the world were hid in the chaos, m that confused mass at the fii'st, out of which God did command all creatui'es to arise ; in the small seeds of plants lie hid both bulk and branches, bud and fruit. In a few principles lie hid all comfortable conclusions of holy truth. All these glorious fireworks of zeal and hoUness in the saints had their beginning from a few sparks. Let us not therefore be discom-aged at the small beginnings of gi'ace, but look on om-selves, as ' elected to be blameless and \\-ithout spot,' Eph. i. 4. Let us only look on our imperfect beginning to enforce fui*ther strife to perfection, and to keep us in a low conceit. Othen\ase, in case of dis- couragement, we must consider ourselves, as Christ doth, who looks on us as such as he intendeth to fit for himself. Christ valueth us by what we shall be, and «by that we are elected unto. We call a little plant a tree, because it is gi-owing up to be so. ' Who is he that despiseth the day of Uttle things ? ' Zech. iv. 10. Christ would not have us despise httle things. The glorious angels disdain not attendance on httle ones ; httle ui their own eyes, and little in the eyes of the world. Grace, though httle in quantity, yet'is much in vigour and worth. It is Christ that raiseth the worth of little and mean places and persons. Bethlehem the least, Micah v. 2, Mat. ii. 6, and yet not the least ; the least in itself, not the least in respect Christ was born there. The second temple. Hag. ii. 9, came short of the outward magnificence of the former ; yet more glorious than the first, because Christ came into it. The Lord of the temple came into his own temple. The pupil of the eye is very little, yet seeth a great part of the heaven at once. A pearl, though little, yet is VOL. I. D 50 THE BRUISED EEED of much esteem : nothing in the world of so good use, as the least dram of grace.* TChapter VI. — Grace is mingled with CorriqAion.'] Ohs. 2. But grace is not only little, but mingled with corruption ; whereof it is, that a Christian is said to be smoking flax. "Whence we see, that grace doth not icaste corruption all at once, but some is left to conflict withal. The pm-est actions of the purest men need Christ to perfume f them, and so is his office. When we pray, we need to pray again for Christ to pardon the defects of them. See some instances of this smoking flax. Moses at the Red Sea, being in a great perplexity, and knowing not what to say, or which way to turn him, groaned to God : no doubt this was a great conflict in him. In great distresses we know not what to pray, but the Spirit makes request with sighs that cannot be expressed, Rom. viii. 26. Broken hearts can peld but broken prayers. When David was before the king of Gath, 1 Sam. xxi. 13, and disfigured himself in an uncomely manner, in that smoke there was some fii*e also ; you may see what an excellent psalm he makes upon that occasion, Ps. xxxiv. ; wherein, upon experience, ver. 18, he saith, ' The Lord is near unto them that are of a contrite spmt.' Ps. xxxi. 22, ' I said in my haste, I am cast out of thy sight ; there is smoke : yet thou heardest the voice of my prayer ; there is fire.' ' Master, carest thou not that we perish ?' Mat. viii. 25, cry the disciples ; here is smoke of infidehty, yet so much light of faith as stirred them up to pray to Christ. ' Lord, I beheve : ' there is Hght ; ' but help my unbehef,' Mark ix. 24 : there is smoke. Jonah cries, ii. 4, * I am cast out of thy sight :' there is smoke ; ' yet will I look again to thy holy temple :' there is light. ' miserable man that I am,' Rom. vii. 24, saith St Paul upon sense of his corruption ; but yet breaks out into thanks to God thi'ough Jesus Christ our Lord. ' I sleep,' saith the Church in the Canticles, 'but my heart wakes,' Cant. v. 2. In the seven Chm-ches, which for their hght are called ' seven golden candlesticks,' Rev. ii. iii., most of them had much smoke with their light. The gi'ound of this mixture is, that w^e cany about us a double principle, grace and nature. The end of it is especially to preserve us from those two dangerous rocks which our natm'es ai'e prone to dash upon, security and pride ; and to force us to pitch our rest on justification, not sanctification, which, besides imperfection, hath some soil. Our spiritual fire is Uke our ordinary fire here below, that is, mixed ; but fire is most pure in its own element above ; so shall all our graces be when we are where we would be, in heaven, which is oiu' proper element. Use. From this mixture it is, that the people of God have so diflferent judgments of themselves, looking sometimes at the work of grace, sometimes at the remainder of corruption, and when they look upon that, then they think they have no grace ; though they love Christ in his ordinances and children, yet dare not challenge so near acquaintance as to be his. Even as a candle in the socket sometimes sheweth its light, and sometimes the show of light is lost ; so sometimes well persuaded they ai'c of themselves, somctunes at a loss. * ' As tlio least drara of graco is' in A and B. t ' Perform,' in A and B. AND SMOKING FLAX, 51 [Chapter VII. — Christ iv'dl not quench small and iveak beginniiu/s.] Doct. Now for the second observation, Christ vill not quench the smokiufj flax. First, because this spark is from heaven, it is his own, it- is kindled by his own spirit. And secondly, it tendeth to the glory of his powerful grace in his children, that he preserveth light in the midst of darkness, — a spark in the midst of the sweUing waters of corniption. There is an especial blessing in that little spark ; ' when wine is found in a cluster, one saith. Destroy it not ; for there is a blessing in it,' Isa. Ixv. 8. We see how oiu' Saviour Chiist bore with Thomas in his doubting, John XX. 27 ; with the two disciples that went to Emmaus, who staggered ' whether he came to redeem Israel or no,' Luke xxiv. 21 : he quenched not that Uttle hght in Peter, which was smothered : Peter denied him, but he denied not Peter, Mat. xxvi. * If thou wilt, thou canst,' said one poor man in the gospel, Mat. viii. 2 ; ' Lord, if thou canst' said another, Mark ix. 22 ; both were this smoking flax, neither of both were quenched. If Chiist had stood upon his own gi-eatness, he would have rejected him that came with his //", but Christ answers his if with a gracious and absolute gi'ant, ' I will, be thou clean.' The woman that was diseased with an issue did but touch, and with a trembling hand, and but the hem of his gannent, and yet went away both healed and comforted. In the seven chm-ches. Rev. ii. and iii., we see he acknowledgeth and cherisheth anything that was good in them. Because the disciples slept of infirmity, being oppressed with gi'ief, our Savioiu- Chiist frameth a com- fortable excuse for them, ' The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak,' Mat. xxvi. 41. If Christ should not be merciful, he would miss of his own ends ; ' there is mercy with thee that thou mayest be feared,' Ps. cxxx. 4. Now aU are willing to come under that banner of love which he spreadeth over his : ' therefore to thee shall all flesh come,' Ps. Ixv. 2. He useth moderation and care, ' lest the spirit should fail before him, and the souls which he hath made,' Isa. Ivii. 16. Christ's heart yearned, the text saith, ' when he saw them without meat, lest they should faint,' Mat. xv. 32 ; much more will he have regard for the preventing of our spiritual faintings. Here see the opposite disposition between the holy natm-e of Chiist, and the impm-e natm-e of man. Man for a little smoke will quench the light ; Chiist ever we see cherisheth even the least beginnings. How bare he with the many imperfections of his poor disciples. If he did sharply check them, it was in love, and that they might shiue the brighter. Can we have a better pattern to follow than this of him by whom we hope to be saved ? ' We that are strong ought to bear with the infii-mities of them that are weak,' Rom. XV. 1. 'I become all things to all men, that I may -nin some,' 1 Cor. ix. 22. that this gaining and winning disposition were more in many ! Many, so far as in us lieth, are lost for want of encom-agement. See how that faithful fisher of men, St Paul, labom-s to catch his judge, ' I know thou behevest the prophets,' Acts xx\i. 27 ; and then wisheth all saving good, but not bonds ; he might have added them too, but he would not discourage one that made but an offer, he would therefore wish Agiippa only that which was good in religion. How careful was our blessed Saviour of little ones that they might not be offended, Mat. xii. xiii. How doth he defend his disciples from malicious imputations of the Pharisees ! How careful not to put new wine into old vessels, Mat. is. 17, not to aUenate new beginners * ' That; in A. 52 THE BEUISED EEED with the austerities of religion (as some indiscreetly). 0, saith he, they shall have time to fast wheii I am gone, and strength to fast when the Holy Ghost is come upon them. It is not the best way to fall foul presently with young beginners for some lesser vanities, but shew them a more excellent way, and breed them up in positive grounds, and other things will be quickly out of credit with them. It is not amiss to conceal their wants, to excuse some failings, to commend their performances, to cherish their towardness, to remove all rubs out of their way, to help them every way to bear the yoke of religion with gi'eater ease, to bring them m love with God and his service, lest they distaste it before they know it. For the most part we see Christ planteth in young beginners a love which we call ' the first love,' Rev. ii. 4, to carry them thi'ough their profession with more delight, and doth not expose them to crosses before they have gathered strength; as we breed up young plants, and fence them from the Aveather, until they be rooted.* Mercy to others should move us to deny ourselves in our lawful liberties oftentimes, in case of offence of weak ones ; it is the ' little ones that ai'e offended, 'Matt, xviii. 6. The weakest are aptest to think themselves despised, therefore we should be most careful to give them content. It were a good strife amongst Christians, one to labour to give no offence, and the other to labour to take none. The best men are severe to them- selves, tender over others. Yet people should not tire and wear out the patience of others : nor should the weaker so far exact moderation from others, as to bear out them- selves upon their indulgence, and so to rest in their otvii infirmities, with danger to their own souls, and scandal to the church. Neitherf hereupon must they set light by the gifts of God in others, which gi-ace teacheth to honour wheresoever they are foiand, but know their parts and place, and not enterprise anything above their measure, which may make their persons and their case obnoxious to scorn. When blindness and boldness, ignorance and arrogance, weakness and wilfulness, meet together in one, it renders men odious to God, it maketh men bm'densome in societj^ dangerous in their counsels, troublers of better designs, unti*act- able and uncapable of better direction, miserable in the issue : where Christ sheweth his gracious power in weakness, he doth it by letting men under- stand themselves so far as to breed humility, and magnifying of God's love to such as they are : he doth it as a preservative against discouragements from weakness, seeing it briugeth men into a less distance from grace, as being an advantage to poverty of spirit, than gi'eatuess of condition and parts, which yield to corrupt nature fuel for pride. Christ refuseth none for weakness of parts, that none should be discouraged ; accepteth of none for greatness, that none should be hfted up v^ith that which is of so little reckoning with God. It is no gi-eat matter how dull the scholar be, when Christ taketh upon him to be the teacher : who as he prescribeth what to understand, so he giveth understanding itself even to the simplest. The church sufiereth much from weak ones, therefore we may challenge liberty to deal with them, as mildly, so oftentimes directly. The scope of true love is to make the party better, which by concealment oftentimes is hindered ; with some a spirit of meekness prevaileth most, but with some a rod. Some must be ' pulled out of the fire,' Jude 23, with violence, and they will bless God for us in the day of their visitation. We see our Saviour multiplies woe upon woe when he was to deal with hard-hearted •' Well-rooted,' in A. f ' Neither . . . simplest.' This paragrapli first added in B AND SMOKING FLAX. 53 hj^Docrites ,Mat. xxiii. 13, for h^-pocrites need-= stronger conviction than gross sinners, because their -will is nought, and thereupon usually their conversion is \dolent. An hard knot must have an answerable wedge, else in a cruel pity we betray their souls. A sharp reproof sometimes is a precious pearl, and a sweet balm. The wounds of secure sinners will not be healed with sweet words. The Holy Ghost came as well in fieiy tongues, as in the lilceness of a dove, and the same Holy Spirit will vouchsafe a spirit of prudence and discretion, which is the salt to season all our words and actions. And such wisdom will teach us ' to speak a word in season,' Isa. 1. 4, both to the weary, and likewise to the secm-e soul. And, indeed, he had need have ' the tongue of the learned,' Isa. 1. 4, that shall either raise up or cast down ; but in this place I speak of mildness towards those that are weak and are sensible of it. These we must bring on gently, and drive softly, as Jacob did his cattle. Gen. xxxiii. 14, accordmgto their pace, and as his children were able to endiu'e. Weak Christians are like glasses which are hui-t with the least violent usage, otherwise if gently handled wdll continue a long time. This honour of gentle use we are to give to ' the weaker vessels,' 1 Pet. iii. 7, by which we shall both preserve them, and likewise make them useful to the church and ourselves. In unclean bodies if all iU humours be purged out, you shall purge life and all away. Therefore though God saith, that ' he will fine them as silver is fined,' Zech. xiii. 9 ; yet, Isa. xhiii. 10, he said, ' he hath fined them, but not as silver,' that is, so exactly as that no dross remaineth, for he hath respect to our weakness. Perfect refining is for another world, for the world of the souls of perfect men. ' [Chapter VIII. — Tenderness required in viinisters toward young her(inners.'\ 1. Divines had need to take heed therefore how they deal with these in divers particulars : as fii'st let them be careful they strain not things too high (b), making those general and necessar}' e\idences of grace, which agi'ee not to the experience of many a good Chi'istian, and lay salvation and damnation upon those things that are not fit to bear so great a weight, where- upon men are groundlessly cast down lower by them, than they can hastily be raised up again by themselves or others. The ambassadors of so gentle a SaATOur should not be over-masterly, setting up themselves in the hearts of people where Christ alone should sit as in his own temple. Too mucht respect to man was one of the inlets of popery. ' Let a man account of us as of the ministers of Christ,' 1 Cor. iv. 1, neither more nor less, just so much. How careful was St Paul in cases of conscience not to lay a snare upon any weak conscience. They should take heed likewise that they hide not their meaning in dark speeches, speaking in the clouds. Truth feareth nothing so much as con- cealment, and desireth nothing so much as clearly to be laid open to the view of all : when it is most naked, it is most lovely and powerful. Om- blessed Saviour, as he took our nature upon him, so he took upon him om- familiar manner of speech, v.'hich was part of his voluntary abase- ment. St Paul was a profound man, yet became as a nurse to the weaker sort, 1 Thess. ii. 7. That sphit of mercy that was in Christ should move his servants to be * ' Do need," in A and B. t ' loo much .... just so much,' added first in B. 54 THE BRUISED REED content to abase themselves for the good of the meanest. What made the ' kingdom of heaven suffer violence,' Matt. xi. 22, after John the Baptist's time, but that comfortable tmths were vnth that plainness and evidence laid open, that the people were so affected with them, as they offered a holy violence to them ? Christ chose those to preach mercy, which had felt most mercy, as St Peter and St Paul ; that they might be examples of what they taught. St Paul ' became all things to all men,' 1 Cor. ix. 2, stooping unto them for their good. Christ came down from heaven, and emptied himself of ma- jesty in tender love to souls ; shall we not come down from our high con- ceits to do any poor soul good ? shall man be proud after God hath been humble ? We see the ministers of Satan turn themselves into all shapes to ' make proselytes,' Matt, xxiii. 15. A Jesuit wall be every man. We see ambitious men study accommodation of themselves to the humours of those by whom they hope to be raised ; - and shall not we study application of ourselves to Christ, by whom we hope to be advanced, nay, are already sitting with him in heavenly places ? After we are gained to Christ our- selves, we should labour to gain others to Christ. Holy ambition and covetousness will move us to put upon ourselves the disposition of Christ : but we must put off oru'selves first. We should not, thirdly, rack their wits ■udth curious or ' doubtful dis- putes,' Rom. xiv 1 ; for so we shall distract and tire them, and give occasion to make them cast off the care of all. That age of the church which was most fertile in nice questions, was most barren in religion : for it makes people think religion to be only a matter of wit, in t}dng and untying of knots ; the brains of men given that way are hotter usually than then- hearts. Yet notwithstanding, when we are cast into times and places wherein doubts are raised about main points, here people ought to labour to be established. God suffereth questions oftentimes to arise for trial of our love and exercise of our parts. Nothing is so certain as that which is certain after doubts. Nil tarn certimi qudm quod ex duhio certum. Shaking settles and roots. In a contentious age, it is a witty thing to be a Christian, and to know what to pitch their souls upon ; it is an office of love here to take away the stones, and to smooth the way to heaven. Therefore, we must take heed that, under pretence of avoidance of disputes, we do not suffer an adverse party to get groimd upon the truth ; for thus may we easily betray both the truth of God and souls of men. And likewise those are failing that, by overmuch austerity, drive back troubled souls from having comfort by them ; for by this carriage many smother their temptations, and burn inwardlj^, because they have none into whose bosom they may vent their grief and ease their souls. We must neither bind where God looseth, nor loose where God bindeth, nor open where God shuttcth, nor shut where God openeth ; the right use of the keys is always successful. In personal application there must be great heed taken ; for a man may be a false prophet, and yet speak the truth. If it be not a truth to the person to whom he speaketh ; if he ' grieve those whom God hath not grieved,' Lam. iii. 83, by unseasonable truths, or by comforts m an ill way, the hearts of the wicked may be strengthened. One man's meat may be another's bane. If we look to the general temper of these times, rousing and waking Scriptures are fittest ; yet there be many broken spirits need soft and oily words. Even in the worst time the prophets mingled sweet comfort for * ' To raiao themselves,' in A and B. AND SMOKING FLAX. 55 the hidden remnant of faithful people. God hath comfort ; ' Comfort ye my people,' Isa. xl. 1, as well as ' lift up thy voice as a trumpet,' Isa. Iviii. 1. And here likewise there needs a caveat. Mercy doth not rob us of our right judgment, as that we should take stinking* fire-brands for smoking flax. None will claim mercy more of others, than those whose portion is due severity. This example doth not countenance lukewaramcss, nor too much indulgence to those that need quickening. Cold diseases must have hot remedies. It made for the just commendations of the church of Ephesus, ' that it could not bear with them which are evil,' Rev. ii. 2. We should so bear with others, as we discover withal a dislike of evil. Our Saviour Christ would not forbear sharp reproof, where he saw dangerous infirmities in his most beloved disciples. It bringeth under a curse ' to do the work of the Lord negligently,' Jer. xlviii. 10 ; even where it is a work of just severity, as when it is sheathing the sword in the bowels of the enemy. And those whom we suffer to be betrayed by their worst enemies, their sins, will have just cause to curse us another day. It is hard to preserve just bounds of mercy and severity, without a spirit above our own ; which we ought to desire to be led withal in all things. That ' wisdom which dwelleth with prudence,' Prov. viii. 12, will guide us in these particulars, without which virtue is not virtue, truth not truth. The rule and the case must be laid together ; for if there be not a narrow in- sight, seeming Ukeness in conditions will be the breeder of errors in our opinions of them. Those fiery, tempestuous, and destructive spirits in popery, that seek to promote their religion by cruelty, shew that they are strangers to that wisdom which is from above, which maketh men gentle, peaceable, and ready to shew that mercy they have felt before themselves. It is a way of prevailing, as agreeable to Christ, so likewise to man's nature, to prevail by some forbearance and moderation. And 3'et oft we see a false spirit in those that call for moderation. It is but to carry their own projects with the greater strength ; and if they prove of the prevaihng hand, they will hardly shew that moderation to others they now call for from others. And there is a proud kind of moderation likewise, when men will take upon them to censure bothf parties, as if they were wiser than both, although, + if the snirit be right, a looker on may see more than those that are in conflict. b [Chapter IX. — Governors should he tender of iceak ones, and also private Christians.] 2. So in the censures of the church, it is more suitable to the spirit of Christ to incline to the milder part, and not to kill a fly on the forehead with a beetle (c), nor shut men out of heaven for a trifle. The veiy snufters of the tabernacle were made of pure gold, to shew the purity of those cen- sm-es, whereby the light of the church is kept bright. That power that is given to the church is given for edification, not destruction. How careful was St Paul, that the incestuous Corinthian, 2 Cor. ii. 7, repenting, should not be swallowed up with too much grief. As for civil magistrates, they, for civil exigences and reasons of state, must let the law have its course ; yet thus far they should imitate this mild king, as not to mingle bitterness and passion with authority derived from God. Authority is a beam of God's majesty, and prevaileth most where * ' Smoking,' in A and B. f ' Either party,' in A. J ' Though,' in A and B. 1 56 THE BRUISED EEED there is least mixture of that which is man's. It requireth more than ordinary wisdom to manage it aright. This string must not be too much sti'ained up, nor too much let loose. Justice is an harmonical thing. Herbs hot or cold beyond a certain degree, kill. AVe see even contrary elements preserved in one body by a wise contemperation. Justice in rigour is oft extreme injustice, where some considerable cu'cumstances should incline to moderation ; and the reckoning will be easier for bending rather to moderation than rigour. Insolent carriage toward miserable persons, if humbled, is unseemly in any who look for mercy themselves. Misery should be a loadstone of mercy, not a footstool for pride to trample on. Sometimes it falleth out that those that are under the government of others, are most injm-ious by waywardness and harsh censures, herein dis- paraging and discouraging the endeavours of superiors for public good. In so great weakness of man's natm-e, and especially in this crazy age of the world, we ought to take in good part any moderate happiness we enjoy by government ; and not be altogether as a nail in the wound, exasperating things by misconstruction. Here love should have a mantle to cast upon lesser errors of those above us. Oftentimes the poor man is the oppressor by unjust clamours. We should labom* to give the best interpretation to the actions of governors that the nature of the actions will possibly bear. In the last place, there is something for private Christians, even for all of us in our common relations, to take notice of: we are debtors to the weak in many things. 1. Let us be watchful in the use of our liberty, and labour to be inoffen- sive in om* carriage, that om* example compel them not. There is a com- manding force in an example, as Peter, Gal. ii. Looseness^'''- of life is cruelty to ourselves, and to the souls of others. Though we cannot keep them from perishing which will perish, in regard of the event ; yet if we do that which is apt of itself to destroy the souls of others, their ruin is im- putable to us. 2. Let men take heed of taking up Satan's office, in depraving the good actions of others, as he did Job's, ' doth he serve God for nought ? ' Job i. 9, or slandering their persons, judging of them according to the wickedness that is in their own hearts. The de\al getteth more by such discourage- ments, and these reproaches that are cast upon religion, than by fire and fagot. These, as unseasonable frosts, nip all gracious offers in the bud ; and as much as in them lieth, with Herod, labour to kill Christ in young professors. A Christian is a hallowed and a sacred thing, Christ's temple ; ' and he that destroyeth his temple, him will Christ destroy,' 1 Cor. iii. 17. 3. Amongst the things that are to be taken heed of, there is amongst private Christians a bold usurpation of censm-e towards others, not con- sidering their temptations. Some will unchurch and unbrother in a passion. But distempers do not alter true relations ; though the child in a fit should disclaim the mother, yet the mother will not disclaim the child. There is therefore in these judging times good ground of St James's caveat, that there should not ' be too many masters,' James iii. 1 ; that we should not smite one another by hasty censures, especially in things of an indifferent nature ; some things are as the mind of him is that doth them, or doth them not ; for both may be unto the Lord. A holy aim in things of a middle nature makes the judgments of men, * ' A looseuess,' in A. A>[D SMOKING FLAX. 67 althougli seemingly contrary, yet not so much blameable. Christ, for the good aims he seeth in us, overlooketh any ill in them, so far as not to lay it to our charge. Men must not be too curious in prying into the weaknesses of others. We should labour rather to see what they have that is for eternity, to in- cline our heart to love them, than into that weakness which the Spirit of God will in time consume, to estrange us. Some think it strength of grace to endure nothing in the weaker, whereas the strongest are readiest to bear with the infirmities of the weak. Where most holiness is, there is most moderation, where it may be with- out prejudice of piety to God and the good of others. We see in Christ a marvellous temper of absolute holiness, with great moderation, in this text. What had become of our salvation, if he had stood upon terms, and not stooped thus low unto us ? We need not aflect to be more holy than Christ ; it is no flattery to do as he doth, so it be to edification. The Holy Ghost is content to dwell in smoky, ofiensive souls. that that Spirit would breathe into om- spirits the like merciful disposition ! We endure the bitterness of wormwood, and other distasteful plants and herbs, only because we have some experience of some wholesome quality in them ; and why should we reject men of useful parts and graces, only for some harshness of disposition, which, as it is offensive to us, so grieveth them- selves ? Grace whilst we live here is in souls, which as they are unperfectly renewed, so they dwell in bodies subject to several humours, which will incline the soul sometimes to excess in one passion, sometimes to excess in another. Bucer was a deep and a moderate divine ; upon long experience he resolved to refuse none in whom he saw, aliquid Christi, something of Christ. The best Christians in this state of imperfection are like gold that is a little too Hght, which needs some grains of allowance to make it pass. You must grant the best their allowance. We must supply out of our love and mercy, that which we see wanting in them. The church of Christ is a common hospital, wherein all are in some measure sick of some spiritual disease or other ; that we should aU have ground of exercising mutually the spirit of wisdom and meekness. 1. This that we may the better do, let us put upon ourselves the spirit of Christ. The spirit of God carrieth a majesty with it. Corruption will hardly yield to coiTuption in another. Pride is intolerable to pride. The weapons of this warfare must not be carnal, 2 Cor. x. 4. The gi'eat apostles would not set upon the work of the ministry, until they were ' clothed as it were with power from on high,' Luke xxiv. 49. The Spirit will only work with his own tools. And we should think what affection Christ would carry to the party in this case. That great physician, as he had a quick eye and a healing tongue, so had he a gentle hand, and a tender heart.* 2. And secondly, put upon us the condition of him whom we deal withal : we are, or have been, or may be such : make the case our own, and withal consider in what near relation a Christian standeth unto us, even as a brother, a fellow-member, heu* of the same salvation. And therefore let us take upon ourselves a tender care of them every way ; and especially in cherishing the peace of their consciences. Conscience is a tender and * Nil sic spiritualem virum indicat quam alieni iDeccati tractatio. — Aug\usttne\ iu Gal. vi. 58 THE BRUISED KEED delicate thing, and so must be used, It is like a lock, if the wards be troubled, it will be troublesome to open.* [Chapter X. — Rules to try irhether we he such as Christ will not q^iench.] For trial, to let us see whether we be this smoking flax which Christ will not quench. In this trial remember these : — 1. Rules. 2. Sitjns. 1. We must have two eyes, one to see imperfections in ourselves and others ; the other to see what is good. ' I am black,' saith the church, ' but yet comely,' Cant. i. 5. Those ever want comfort that are much in quar- relling with themselves, and through their infirmities are prone to feed upon such bitter things, as will most nourish that distemper they are sick of. These delight to be looking on the dark side of the cloud only. 2. We must not judge of ourselves always according to present feeling ; for in temptations we shall see nothing but smoke of distrustful thoughts. Fire may be raked up in the ashes, though not seen ; life in the winter is hid in the root. 3. Take heed of false reasoning ; as because our fire doth not blaze out as others, therefore we have no fixe at all ; and by false conclusions come to sin against the commandment in bearing false witness against ourselves. The prodigal would not say he was no son, but that he was not worthy to be called a son, Luke xv. 19. We must neither trust to false evidence, nor deny true ; for so we should dishonour the work of God's Spii'it in us, and lose the help of that evidence which would cherish our love to Christ, and arm us agamst Satan's discouragements. Some are so faulty this way, as if they had been hired by Satan, the ' accuser of the brethren,' Rev. xii. 10, to plead for him, in accusing themselves. 4. Know, for a ground of this, that in the covenant of grace, God requires the truth of grace, not any certain measure ; and a spark of fire is fire as well as the whole element. Therefore we must look to grace in the spark as well as in the flame. All have not the like strong, yet the like precious faith, 2 Pet. i. 1, whereby they lay hold, and put on, the perfect righteousness of Christ. A weak hand may receive a rich jewel ; a few grapes will shew that the plant is a vine, and not a thorn. It is one thing to be wanting in grace, and another thing to want grace altogether. God knoweth we have nothing of ourselves, therefore in the covenant of grace he requireth no more than he giveth, and giveth what he requireth, and acccpteth what he giveth : ' He that hath not a lamb may bring a pair of turtle doves,' Lev. xii. 6. What is the gospel itself but a merciful modera- tion, in which Christ's obedience is esteemed ours, and our sins laid upon him, and wherein God of a judge becometh the father, pardoning our sins and accepting our obedience, though feeble and blemished ! We are now brought to heaven under the covenant of grace by a way of love and mercy. It will prove a special help to know distinctly the difference between the covenant of works and the covenant of grace, between Moses and Christ ; Moses without all mercy breaketh all bruised reeds, and quencheth all smoking flax. For the law requireth, 1, personal ; 2, perpetual ; 3, perfect obedience ; 4, and from a perfect heart ; and that under a most terrible curse, and giveth no strength, a severe task-master, like Pharaoh's requir- ing the whole talc, and yet giving no straw. Christ cometh with blessing * Nil magis ad misoricordiani inclinat qiiam i)roprii pcriculi cogitatio. — Au- (jusl\inc]. AND SMOKING FLAX. 59 after blessing even upon those whom Moses had cursed, and with heaUng bahn for those wounds which Moses had made. The same duties are required in both covenants ; as, * to love the Lord with all our hearts, with all our souls,' &c., Deut. vi. 5. In the* covenant of works, this must be taken in the rigour ; but under the covenant of grace, as it is a sincere endeavour proportionable to grace received (and so it must be understood of Josias, and others, when it is said, ' they loved Grod with all their hearts,' &c.), it must have an evangelical mitigation. The law is sweetened by the gospel, and becometh delightful to the inner man, Rom. vii. 22. Under this gracious covenant sincerity is perfection. This is the death in the pot in the Roman religion,! that they confound two covenants ; and it deads the comfort of di-ooping ones, that they can- not distinguish them. And thus they sufler themselves to be held under bondage,' Isa. Ixi. 1, 2, when Christ hath set them free ; and stay them- selves in the prison, when Christ hath set open the doors before them. 5. Grace sometimes is so little as is undiscemible to us ; the Spirit sometimes hath secret operations in us, which we know not for the pre- sent ; but Christ knoweth. Sometimes in bitterness of temptation, when the Spirit struggles with sense of God's anger, we are apt to think God an enemy ; and a troubled soul is like troubled water, | we can see nothing in it ; and so for as it is not cleansed, it will cast up mire and dirt. It is full of objections against itself, yet for the most part we may discern some- thing of the hidden life, and of these smothered sparks. In a gloomy day there is so much light whereby we may know it to be day, and not night ; so there is something in a Christian under a cloud, whereby he may be discerned to be a true believer, and not a hypocrite. There is no mere darkness in the state of grace, but some beam of hght, whereby the kingdom of darkness wholly prevaileth not. [Chapter XI. — Signs of smohing flax uhich Christ uill not quench.] These things premised, let us know for a trial, 1. Fii'st, if there be any holy fire in lis, it is kindled from heaven by the ' Father of lights, who com- mandeth light to shine out of darkness,' 2 Cor. iv. 6. As it is kindled in the use of means, so it is fed. The light in us, and the light in the word, spring one from the other, and both from one Holy Spirit ; and, therefore, those that regard not the word, it is because there ' is no Ught in them,' Isa. viii. 20. Heavenly truths must have a heavenly light to discern them. Natural men see heavenly things, but not in their own proper light, but by an inferior light. God in every converted man putteth a light into the eye of his soul, proportionable to the light of truths revealed unto him. A carnal eye will never see spiritual things. 2. Secondly, the least divine light hath heat ivith it in some measure ; light in the understanding breedeth heat of love in the affections. Claritas i?i intellectu parit ardorem in affectu. In what measure the sanctified under- standing seeth a thing to be true, or good, in that measure the will em- braces it. Weak light breeds weak inclinations ; a strong light, strong incUnations. A httle spiritual light is of strength enough to answer strong objections of flesh and blood, and to look through all earthly allurements and opposing^ hindrances, presenting them as far inferior to those heavenly objects it eyeth. * ' This,' in A and B. % ' Waters,' in A and B. t Roman religion == Popery. — G. § ' And all,' in A and B. 60 THE BRUISED REED All light that is not spiritual, because it wanteth the strength of sanctify- ing grace, yieldeth* to every little temptation, especially when it is fitted and suited to personal inclinations. This is the reason why Christians that have light little for quantity, but yet heavenly for quality, hold out, when men of larger apprehensions sink. This prevailing of light in the soul is because, together Avith the spirit of illumination, there goeth, in the godly, a spirit of power, 2 Tim. i. 7, to subdue the heart to truth revealed, and to put a taste and relish into the will, suitable to the sweetness of the truths ; else a mere natural will will rise against supernatural truths, as having an antipathy and enmity against them. In the godly, holy truths are conveyed by way of a taste ; gracious men have a spiritual palate as well as a spiritual eye. Grace altereth the relish, 3. Thirdly, where this heavenly light is kindled, it direetetk in the ri/iht ivay. For it is given for that use, to shew us the best way, and to guide in the particular passages of life ; if otherwise, it is but common light, given only for the good of others. Some have light of knowledge, yet follow not that light, but are guided by carnal reason and policy ; such as the prophet speaks of, ' All you that kindle a fire, walk in the light of yowc own fii't!, and in the sparks that you have kindled ; but this you shall have of mine hand, ye shall lie down in sorrow,' Isa. 1. 11. God delights to confound carnal wisdom, as enmity to him, and robbing him of his prero- gative, who is God only wise. We must, therefore, walk by his light, and not the blaze of our own fire. God must light our candle, Ps. xviii. 28, or else we are like to abide in darkness. Those sparks that are not kindled from heaven, are not strong enough to keep us from tying down in sorrow, though they make a greater blaze and show than the light from above, as madmen do greater things than sober, but by a false strength : so the excess of these men's joy ariseth from a false light, ' the candle of the wicked shall be put out,' Job xviii. 6. The light that some men have, it is like lightning, which after a sudden flash leaveth them more in darkness. They can love the light as it shines, but hate it as it discovers and directs. A little holy light will enable to keep the word, and not betray religion, and deny Christ's name, as Christ speaketh of the church of Philadelphia, Rev. iii. 8. 4. Fourthly, where this fire is, it ii-iU sever things of diverse natures, and shew a difference between things, as gold and dross. It will sever between flesh and spirit, and shew that this is of nature, this of grace. All is not ill in a bad action, or good in a good action. There is gold in ore, which God and his Spirit in us can distinguish. A carnal man's heart is like a dungeon, wherein is nothing to be seen but horror and confusion ; this light maketh us judicious and humble, upon clearer sight of God's purity, and our own uncleanncss ; and maketh us able to discern of the work of the Spirit in another. 5. Fifthl}', so far as a man is spiritual, so far is light delightful %nito him, as willing to see anything amiss, that he may reform, and any further service discovered that he may perform, because he truly hateth ill and loveth good ; if he goeth against light discovered, he will soon be re- claimed, because light hath a friendly party within him. Whereupon, at a little sight of his error he is soon counsclable, as David in his intendment to kill Nabal, and blessed God afterwards, when he is stopped in an ill way, 1 Sam. xxv. 32. * ' It yieldeth,' in A and B. AND SMOKING FLAX. 61 In a carnal man, the light breaks in upon him, but he labours to shut the passages, he hath no delight to come to the light. It is impossible before the Spirit of grace hath subdued the heart, but that it should sin against the light, either by resisting of it, or keeping it prisoner under base lusts, and burying it, as it were, in the earth ; or perverting of it, and so making it an agent and factor for the flesh, in searching out arguments to plead for it, or abusing that little measure of light they have, to keep out a greater, higher, and more heavenly light ; and so, at length, make that light they have a misleading guide to utter darkness. And the reason is, because it hath n» friend within, the soul is in a contrary frame ; and light alwa3's hindereth that sinful peace that men are willing to speak to them- selves : whence we see it oft enrages men the more, as the sun in the spring breedeth aguish distempers, because it stirreth humours, and doth not waste them. There is nothing in the world more unquiet than the heart of a wicked man, that sitteth under means of knowledge, until, like a thief, he hath put out the candle, that he may sin with the less check. Spiritual light is distinct, it seeth spiritual good, with application to our- selves ; but common hght is confused, and lets sin lie quiet. Where fire is in any degree, it will fight against the contraiy matter. God hath put irreconcilable hatred between light and darkness at first, so between good and ill, flesh and spirit. Gal. v. 17 ; gi'ace will never join with sin, no more than fii'e with water. Fire will mingle with no contrary, but preserveth its ovm purity, and is never corrupted as other elements are. Therefore, those that plead and plot for liberties of the flesh, shew themselves strangers from the life of God. Upon this strife, gi'acious men oft complain that they have no gi'ace, but they contradict themselves in their complaints ; as if a man that seeth should complain he cannot see, or complain that he is asleep, when the very complaint, springing from a displeasure against sin, sheweth tliat there is something in him opposite to sin. Can a dead man complain ? Some things, though bad in themselves, yet discover good ; as smoke discovers some fire. Breaking out in the body shews strength of nature. Some infii-mities discover more good than some seeming beautiful actions. Excess of passion in opposing evil, though not to be justified, yet sheweth a better spirit than a calm temper, where there is just cause of being moved. Better it is that the water should run something muddily, than not at all. Job hud more gi'ace in his distempers, than his friends in their seeming wise carriage. Actions soiled with some weaknesses, are more accepted than complemental performances. 6. Sixthly, fire, where it is in the least measure, is in some derp-ee active; so the least measure of grace is uvrJciuf/, as springing from the Spirit of God, which, fi-om the working nature of it, is compared to fu-e. Nay, in sins, when there seemeth nothing active, but corruption, yet there is a contrary principle, which breaks the force of sin, so that it is not out of measure sinful, as in those that are carnal, Kom. vii. 13. 7. Seventhly, fire maketh metals pliable and malleable, so doth grace, where it is begun ; it worketh the heart to be pliable and ready for all good impressions. Untractable spirits shew that they are not so much as smok- ing flax. 8. Eighthly, fire tumeth all, as much as it can, to fire ; so grace lahoureth to breed the like impression in others, and make as many good as it can. Grace likewise maketh a gracious use even of natural and civil things, and doth spiritualise them. AVhat another man doth only civilly, a gracious man ■\\al] do iiohly. "Whether he eateth or di-inketh, or whatsoever 62 THE BKUISED KEED he doth, he doth all to the glory of God, 1 Cor. x. 31, making evei-ything serviceable to the last end. 9. Ninthly, sparks by nature fly upwards ; so the Spirit of grace carrleth the soul heaven-ward, and setteth before us holy and heavenly alms. As it was kindled from heaven, so it carries us hack to heaven. The part followeth the whole : fii'e mounteth upward, so every spark to its own element. Where the aim and bent of the soul is God-wards, there is grace, though opposed. The least measm'e of it is holy desires springing fi'om faith and love, for we cannot desire anything which we do not believe first to be, and the desire of it issues from love. Hence desires are counted a part of the thing desired, in some measure ; but then they must be, first, co)istant, for constancy shews that they are supernaturally natural, and not enforced ; secondly, they must be carried to spiritual things, as to believe, to love God, &c. : not out of a special exigent, because, if now they had grace, they think they might escape some danger, but as a loving heart is carried to the thing loved for some excellency in itself ; and thirdly, with desire there is grief when it is hindered, which stirs up to prayer : ' Oh that my ways were so directed, that I might keep thy statutes !' Ps. cxix. 5 ; miserable man that I am, who shall deliver ? &c., Rom. vii. 24 ; fourthly, desires put us onward stUl : that I might serve God with more liberty ; that I were more free fi'om these offensive, unsavoury, noisome lusts ! 10. Tenthly, fire worketh itself, if it hath any matter to feed on, into a larger compass, and mounteth higher and higher, and the higher it riseth, the purer is the flame ; so where true grace is, it groweth in measure and pm'ity. Smoking flax will grow to a flame ; and as it increaseth, so it worketh out the contrary, and refineth itself more and more. Ignis, quo magis lucet, eo minus fumat. Therefore, it argueth a false heart to set ourselves a measure in grace, and to rest in beginnings, alleging that Ckrist will not quench the smoking flax. But this merciful disposition in Christ is joined with perfect holiness, shewed in perfect hatred to sin ; for rather than sin should not have its deserved punishment, himself became a sacrifice for sin, wherein his Father's holiness and his own most of all shined. And besides this, in the work of sanctification, though he favours his work in us, yet favours he not sin in us ; for he will never take his hand from his work, until he hath taken away sin, even in its very being, from our natures. The same Spirit that purified that blessed mass whereof he was made, cleanseth us by degrees to be suitable to so holy a head, and frameth the judgment and affection of all to whom he sheweth mercy, to concur with his own, in labouring to farther his ends, in abolishing of sin out of our nature. [Chapter XII. — Scruples hindering comfort removed.] Use. From the meditation of these rules and signs, much comfort may be brought into the souls of the weakest ; which, that it may be in the more abundance, let me add something for the helping them over some few ordinary objections and secret thoughts against themselves, which getting within the heart, oftentimes keep them under. 1. Some think they have no faith at all, because they have no full assurance ; whcnas the fairest fire that can be will have some smoke. The best actions will smell of the smoke. The mortar wherein garlic hath been stamped, will always smell of it ; so all our actions will savour some- tliing of the old man. AND SMOKING FLAX. 63 2. In weakness of body some think grace dietli, because their perfonn- ances are feeble, their spirits, being the instruments of their souls' actions, being wasted ; not considering that God regards those hidden sighs of those that want abihties to express them outwardly. He that pronounceth them blessed that consider the poor, will have a merciful consideration of such himself. 3. Some again are haunted with hideous representations to theu* fantasies, and with vile and unworthy thoughts of God, of Christ, of the word, &c., which, as busy flies, disquiet and molest their peace ; these are cast in like wildfire by Satan, as may be discerned by the, 1, strangeness ; 2, strength and violence ; 3, horribleness of them even unto natiu'e corrupt. Vellem. scrvari Doniine, seel cogitationes non. patiuntur. A pious soul is no more guilty of them, than Benjamin of Joseph's cup put into his sack. Amongst other helps prescribed by godly wi'iters, as abomination of them, and diver- sion from them to other things, &c., let this be one, to complain unto Christ against them, and to fly under the wdngs of his protection, and to desire him to take oui* part against his and our enemy. Shall every sin and blasphemy of man be forgiven, and not these blasphemous thoughts, which have the devil for their father, when Christ himself was therefore molested in this kind, that he might succour all poor souls in the hke case ? But* there is a diflerence betwixt Christ and us in this case, by reason that Satan had nothing of his own in Christ, his suggestions left no impres- sion at all in his holy natm-e ; but, as sparks falling into the sea, were presently quenched. Satan's temptations of Christ were only suggestions on Satan's part, and apprehensions of the vileness of them on Christ's part. To apprehend ill suggested by another, is not ill. It was Christ's grievance, but Satan's sin. But thus he yielded himself to be tempted, that he might both pity us in our conflicts, and train us up to manage oui- spiritual weapons as he did. Christ could have overcome him by power, but he did it by argument. But when Satan cometh to us, he findeth something of his o^ti in us, which holdeth correspondency and hath intelligence with him ; there is the same enmity in om- nature to God and goodness in some degree, that is in Satan himself; whereupon his temptations fasten for the most part some taint upon us. And if there wanted a devil to suggest, j-et sinful thoughts would arise fi'om within us ; though none were cast in from without, we have a mint of them within : these thoughts, morosa cogitatio, if the soul dwell on them so long as to suck or draw from and by them any sinful deUght, then they leave a more hea^y guilt upon the soul, and hinder our sweet communion with God, and interrupt our peace, and put a contrary relish into the soul, disposing of it to greater sins. All scandalous breakings out are but thoughts at the first. Ill thoughts are as little thieves, which, creeping in at the window, open the door to greater ; thoughts are seeds of actions. These, especially when they are helped foi-ward by Satan, make the life of many good Christians almost a martyrdom. In this case it is an unsound comfort that some minister, that ill thoughts arise from natiu-e, and what is natural is excusable ; but we must know, that nature, as it came out of God's hands at the first, had no such risings out of it : the soul, as inspu-ed of God, had no such unsavoury breathings ; but since that by sin it betrayed itself, it is in some sort natural to it to forge sinful imaginations, and to be a furnace of such sparks ; and this is an aggravation * ' But' to ' subjection in himself.' This long paragraph first intro- duced in B. 64 THE BRUISED KEED of the sinfulness of natural corruption, that it is so deeply rooted, and so generally spread in our nature. It furthereth humiliation to know the whole breadth and depth of sin ; only this, that our nature now, so far as it is unrenewed, is so unhappily fiTiitful in ill thoughts, ministers this comfort, that it is not our case alone, as if our condition herein were severed from others, as some have been tempted to think, even almost to despair ; none, say they, have such a loathsome nature as I have. This springs from ignorance of the spreading of original sin, for what can come from an imclean thing, but that which is xmclean ? < As in the water face answers face, so the polluted heart of one man answereth to the heart of another,' Prov. xxvii 19, where grace hath not made some ditference. As in annoyances from Satan, so here, the best way is to lay open our complaints to Christ, and ciy with St Paul, Domine simpatior, ' miserable man that I am, who shall deliver me from this body of death ?' Eom. vii. 24, 25 : upon this venting of his distressed soul, he presently foimd comfort ; for he breaketh into thanksgiving, ' Thanks be to God,' &c. And it is good to take advantage from hence to hate this noisome body of death the more, and to di-aw nearer unto God, as that holy man after his ' foolish and beastly thoughts,' Ps. Ixxiii. 22 and 28, did, and to keep our hearts closer to God, seasoning them with heavenly meditations in the morning, storing up good matter that our heart may be a good treasury, and begging of Christ his Holy Spirit to stop that cursed issue, and to be a Hving spring of better thoughts in us. Nothing more abaseth the spirits of holy men that desire to delight in God after they have escaped the common defilements of the world, than these imclean issues of spirit, as being most contrary to God, who is a pure Spirit : but the very irksomeness of them yields matter of comfort against them ; they force the soul to all spiritual exercises, to watchfulness, and a more near walking with God, and to raise itself to thoughts of a higher nature, which the truth of God, works of God, communion of saints, the mystery of godliness, the consideration of the terror of the Lord, of the excellency of the state of a Christian, and con- versation suitable, do abundantly minister. They discover tons a necessity of daily purging and pardoning grace, and of seeking to be found in Christ, and so bring the best often upon their knees. But our chiefcomfort is, that om' blessed Saviour, as he bade Satan avaimt from himself after he had given way awhile to his impudency. Mat. iv. 10 ; so he will command him to be gone from us, when it shall be good for us ; he must be gone at a word. And he can and will likewise in his due time rebuke the rebellious and extravagant stirrings of our hearts, and bring all the thoughts of the inner man in subjection to himself. 4, Some think, when they begin once to be troubled with the smoke of corruption more than they were before, therefore they are worse than they were. It is true, that corruptions appear now more than before, but they are less. For, first, sin, the more it is seen the more it is hated, and thereupon is the less. Motes are in a room before the sun shines, but they then only appear. Secondly, contraries, the nearer they are one to another, the sharper is the conflict betwixt them : now of all enemies the spirit and the flesh are nearest one to another, lieing both in the soul of a regenerate man, and in faculties of the soul, and in every action that springeth from those faculties, and therefore it is no marvel the soul, the seat of this battle, thus divided in itself, bo as smoking llax. Thirdly, the more grace, the more spiritual life, and the more spiritual AND SMOKING FLAX. 65 life, the more antipathy to the contraiT- ; -whence none are so sensible of corruption, as those that have the most living souls. And fourthly, when men give themselves to -carnal liberties, their corrup- tions trouble them not, as not being bound* and tied up ; but when once grace suppresseth their extravagant and licentious excesses, then the flesh boileth, as disdaining to be confined ; yet they are better now than they were before. That matter which yields smoke was in the torch before it was lighted ; but it is not offensive till the torch begins to bum. Let such know, that if the smoke be once offensive to them, it is a sign that there is light. It is better to enjoy the benefit of light, though with smoke, than to be altogether in the dark. Neither is smoke so offensive, as light is comfortable to us, it yielding an evidence of truth of gi'ace in the heart ; therefore, though it be cumbersome in the conflict, yet it is comfortable in the evidence. It is better corruption should offend us now, than by giving way to it to redeem a little peace with loss of comfort afterwards. Let such therefore as are at variance and odds with their corruptions, look upon this text as their portion of comfort. [Chapter XIII. — Set jqwn Duties notidthstanding Weaknesses.] Here is an use of encouragement to duty, that Christ will not quench the smoking flax, but blow it up. Some are loath to perfoi-m good duties, because they feel their hearts rebelling, and duties come off uutowai-dly. We should not avoid good actions for the infirmities cleaving unto them. Christ looketh more at the good in them that he meaneth to cherish, than the ill in them that he meaneth to abohsh. A sick man, though in eating he something increaseth the disease, yet he will eat, that nature may get strength against the disease ; so though sin cleaveth to what we do, yet let us do it, since we have to deal with so good a Lord, and the more strife we meet withal, the more acceptance. Christ loveth to taste of the good fniits that come from us, although they will always relish of the old stock. A Christian complaineth he cannot pray. I am troubled with so many distracting thoughts, and never more than now. But hath he put into thine heart a desire to pray ? He wUl hear the desires of his own Spirit in thee. ' We Imow not what to pray for as we ought' (nor do anything else as we ought), 'but the Spirit lielpeth our infirmities, with inexpressible sigha and gi'oans,' Rom. viii. 26, which are not hid from God. 'My gi'oanings are not hid from thee,' Ps. xxxviii. 9. God can pick sense out of a confused prayer. These desires cry louder in his ears than thy sins. Sometimes a Christian hath such confused thoughts, he can say nothing, but as a child crieth, Father, not able to shew what it needs, as Moses at the Red Sea. These stirrings of spirit touch the bowels of God, and melt him into compassion towards us, when they come from the spirit of adoption, and fi-'om a striving to be better. Object. Oh, but is it possible, thinketh the misgiving heart, that so holy a God should accept such a prayer ? Ans. Yes, he wiU accept that which is his own, and pardon that which is ours. 'Jonah prayed in the whale's belly,' Jonah ii. 1, being burdened with the guilt of sin, yet God heareth him. Let not, therefore, infirmities discourage us. St James takes awa}^ this objection, v. 17. Some might object, If I were as holy as Elias, then my prayers might be regarded ; * ' Bounded,' in G. VOL. I. E 66 THE BRUISED REED but, saith he, ' Elias was a man of like passions to us,' he had his passions as well as we ; for do we think that God heard him because he was with- out fault ? No, surely. But look we to the promises : ' Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I will hear thee,' Ps. 1. 15; 'Ask and ye shall receive,' Matt. vii. 7 ; and such like. God accepteth our prayers, though weak. 1. Because we are his own children, they come from his own Spirit. 2. Because they are according to his own will. 3. Because they are offered in Christ's mediation, and he takes them, and mingleth them with his own odours, Rev. viii. 3. There is never a holy sigh, never a tear we shed, lost. And as every grace increascth by exercise of itself, so doth the grace of prayer. By prayer we learn to pray. So, likewise, we should take heed of a spirit of discouragement in all other holy duties, since we have so gra- cious a Saviour. Pray as we are able, hear as we are able, strive as we are able, do as we are able, according to the measure of grace received. God in Christ will cast a gracious eye upon that which is his own. Would St Paul do nothing, because ' he could not do the good he would ? ' Phil. iii. 14. Yes, he ' pressed to the mark.' Let us not be cruel to ourselves when Christ is thus gracious. There is a certain meekness of spirit whereby we yield thanks to God for any ability at all, and rest quiet with the measure of grace received, seeing it is God's good pleasure it should be so, who giveth the will and the deed, yet so as we rest not from further endeavoui's. But when, upon faithful endeavour, we come short of that we would be, and short of that others are, then Imow for our comfort, Christ will not quench the smoking flax, and that sincerity and truth, as before was said, with endeavour of growth, is our perfection. It is comfortable what God saith, ' He only shall go to his grave in peace, because there is some goodness,' 1 liings xiv. 13, though but some goodness. * Lord, I believe,' Mark ix. 24, with a weak faith, yet with faith ; love thee with a faint love, yet with love ; endeavour in a feeble manner, yet endeavour. A little fire is fire, though it smoketh. Since thou hast taken me into thy covenant to be thine of an,, enemy, wilt thou east me off for these infinnities, which, as they displease thee, so are they the grief of my own heart ? [Chapter XIV. — The Case of Indisposition Resolved, and Discouragements.] 1. From what hath been spoken, with some little addition, it will not be difficult to resolve that case which some require help in, namely, whether we ought to perform duties, our hearts being altogether indisposed. For satisfaction we must know, 1, Our hearts of themselves do linger after liberty, and are hardly brought under the yoke of duty ; and the more spiritual the duty is, the more is their untowardness. Corruption getteth ground, for the most part, in every neglect. It is as in rowing against the tide, one stroke neglected will not be gained in three ; and therefore it is. good to keep our hearts close to duty, and not to hearken unto the excusea they are ready to frame. 2. In the setting upon duty, God strengtheneth his own party that he hath in us. We find a warmness of heart, and increase of strength, the Spirit going along with us, and raising us up by degrees, until it leaveth us as it were in heaven. God often delighteth to take the advantage of our indisposition, that he may manifest his work the more clearly, and that all the glory of the work may be his, whose all the strength is. AND SMOKING FLAX. 67 3. Obedience is most direct wlien there is nothing else to sweeten the action. Although the sacrifice be imperfect, yet the obedience with which it is ofiered hath acceptance. 4. That which is won as a spoil from our corruptions will have such a degree of comfort afterwards, as for the present it hath of cumber. Feeling and freeness of spirit is oft reserved until duty be discharged ; reward foUoweth work. In and after duty we find that experience of God's presence which, without obedience, we may long wait for, and yet go without. This hin- dereth not the Spirit's freedom in blowing upon om* souls when it listeth, John iii. 8. For we speak only of such a state of soul as is becalmed, and must row, as it were, against the stream. As in sailing, the hand must be to the stern, and the eye to the star ; so here, put forth that little strength we have to duty, and look up for assistance, which* the Spirit, as freely, so seasonably will afi'oi'd. Caution. (1.) Yet in these duties, that require as well the body as the soul, there may be a cessation till strength be repaired. Whetting doth not let {d), but fit. (2.) In sudden passions there should be a time to com- pose and calm the soul, and to put the strings in tune. The prophet would have a minstrel to bring his soul into frame, 1 Sam. xvi. 16, 17. So Ukewise we are subject to discouragements in suffering, by reason of impatience in us. Alas ! I shall never get through such a cross. But if God bring us into the cross, he will be with us in the cross, and at length bring us out more refined ; we shall lose nothing but dross, Zcch. xiii. 9. Of our own strength we cannot bear the least trouble, and by the Spirit's assistance we can bear the greatest. The Spirit will join his shoulders to help us to bear our infirmities. ' The Lord will put his hand to heave us up,' Ps. xxxvii. 24. ' You have heard of the patience of Job,' saith James, chap. V. 11. We have heard likewise of his impatiency too ; but it pleased God mercifully to overlook that. It yields us comfort also in desolate con- ditions, as contagious sicknesses, and the like, wherein we are more imme- diately under God's hand. Then Christ hath a throne of mercy at our bed's side, and numbers our tears and our groans. And, to come to the matter we are now about, the Sacrament,t it was ordained not for angels, but for men ; and not for perfect men, but for weak men ; and not for Christ, who is truth itself, to bind him, but because we are ready, by rea- son of our guilty and unbelieving hearts, to call truth itself into question. Therefore it was not enough for his goodness to leave us many precious promises, but he giveth us seals to strengthen us ; and, what though we are not so prepared as we should, yet let us pray as Hezeldah did : ' The Lord pardon every one that prepareth his heart to seek the Lord God of his fathers, though he be not cleansed according to the purification of the sanctuary,' 2 Chron. xxx, 19. Then we come comfortably to this holy sacrament, and with much fruit. This should cany us through all duties with much cheerfulness, that, if we hate our corruptions, and strive against them, they shall not be counted ours. It is not I, saith St Paul, but ' sin that dwelleth in me,' Rom. vii. 17 ; for what displeaseth us shall never hurt us, quod noil placet, non nocet, and we shall be esteemed of God to be that we love, and desire, and labour to be. What we desire to be we shall be, and what we desire truly to conquer we shall conquer ; for God will fulfil the desire of them that fear him, Ps. cxlv. 19. The desire is an earnest of the thing desired. How little encouragement will carry us to the affairs of • 'Which .... afford,' not in A, B, hut in E. t Marginal note — This was preached at the Sacrame^.t, 68 THK BRUISED EEED this life ! And yet all the helps God offers will hardly prevail with our backward natures. Whence are, then, discouragements? 1. Not from the Father, for he hath bound himself in covenant ' to pity us as a fiither pitieth his children,' Ps. ciii. 13, and to accept as a father our weak endea- vours ; and what is wanting in the strength of duty, he giveth us leave to take up in his gracious indulgence, whereby we shall honour that grace wherein he dehghts, as much as in more perfect performances. Possibilitas tua mensura tua. 2, Not from Christ, for he oy office will not quench the smoking flax. We see* how Christ bestoweth the best fruits of his love upon persons, for condition mean, for parts weak, for infirmities, nay, for grosser falls, offen- sive : first, thus it pleaseth him to confound the pride of flesh, which usually taketh measure of God's love by some outward excellency. Secondly, thus he is delighted to shew the freedom of his grace and his prerogative royal, that ' whosoever glorieth, may glory in the Lord,' 1 Cor. i. 31. In the eleventh to the Hebrews, among that cloud of witnesses, we see Rahab, Gideon, and Samson, ranked with Abraham the father of the faith- ful, Heb. xi. 31, 32. Our blessed Saviour, as he was the image of his Father, so in this he was of the same mind, glorifying his Father for re- vealing the mystery of the gospel to simple men, neglecting those that carried the chief reputation of wisdom in the world, Heb. xi. 31, 32. It isf not unworthy of the remembering that which Saint Augustine speakethj of a silly man in his time, destitute almost altogether of the use of reason, who when he was most patient of all injuries done to himself, yet from a reverence of religion he would not endure any injury done to the name of Christ ; insomuch that he would cast stones at those that blasphemed, and would not in that case spare his o^vn governors ; which sheweth that the parts of none are so low, as that they are beneath the gracious regard of Christ ; where it pleaseth him to make his choice, and to exalt his mercy, he passeth by no degree of wit, though never so plain. 3. Neither do discouragements come from the Spirit ; § he helps our infirmities, and by office is a comforter, Rom. viii. 26. If he convinceth of sin, and so humbleth us, it is that he may make way to shew his office of comforting us. Discom-agements, then, must come from ourselves and Satan, who laboureth to fasten on us a loathing of duty. [Chapter XV. — Of infirmities. No cause of discouragement. In whom they arc. And how to recover j^eace lost.] And among other causes of discouragement, some are much vexed with scruples, even against the best duties ; partly by distemper of body, helped by Satan's malice, casting dust in their eyes, in their way to heaven ; and partly from some remainder of ignorance, which like darlaiess breedeth feai"s ; and as ignorance of other things, so especially of this merciful dis- position in Christ, the persuasion of which would easily banish false fears, they conceive of him as one sitting at a catch for all advantages against them ; wherein they may see how they wrong not only themselves but his goodness. This scrupulosity, for the most part, is a sign of a godly soul, * ' Wg see' .... to 'wisdom in the world.' This paragraph added first in B. t 'It is' . . . to ' never so plain.' This paragraph not in A, B, but in E. X Ang. do pcccatorum meritis et remiss., lib. i. cap. 14. ^ ' Not from the Spirit,' in A. AND SMOKING FLAX. 69 as some weeds are of a good soil : therefore are they the more to he pitied, for it is a heav;^' affliction, and the ground of it in most is not so much from trouble of conscience, as from sickness of fantasy. The end of Christ's coming was to free us from all such gi'oundless fears. There is still in some, such ignorance of that comfortable condition we are in under the covenant of grace, as by it they are much discouraged. There- fore we must know, 1, That weaknesses do not break covenant with God. They do not between husband and wife ; and shall we make ourselves more pitiful than Christ, who maketh himself a pattern of love to all other husbands ? 2. Weaknesses do not debar us fi-om mercy, nay, they incline God the more, Ps. Ixxviii. 39. Mercy is a part of the church's jointure, ' Christ E^iarries her in mercy,' Ho^. ii. 19. The husband is bound to bear with the -n-ife, as ' being the weaker vessel,' 1 Pet. iii. 7 ; and shall we think he will exempt himself from his own rule, and not bear with his weak spouse ? 3. If Christ should not be merciful to our infirmities, he should not have a people to serve him. Put case therefore we be veiy weak, yet so long as we are not found amongst malicious opposers and underminers of God's truth, let us not give way to despairing thoughts ; we have a merciful Saviour. But lest we flatter oui'selves without gi'ound, we must know that weaknesses are accounted either, 1, Imperfections cleaving to om* best actions ; or, 2, Such actions as proceed from want of age in Christ, whilst we are babes ; or, 3, From want of strength, where there hath been little means ; or, 4, They are sudden indeliberate brealdngs out, contrary to our general bent and purpose, whilst our judgment is overcast with the cloud of a sudden temp- tation. After which, 1, we are sensible of our infirmity; 2, We grieve for it; 3, And from grief, complain; and 4, With complaining strive and labour to reform ; and 5, In labouring get some gi'ound of our corruption. Weaknesses* so considered, howsoever they be matter of humiliation, and the object of our daily mortification, yet may stand with boldness with God, neither is a good work either extinguished by them, or tainted so far as to lose all acceptance with God. But to plead for an infirmity is more than an infirmity; to allow ourselves in weaknesses is more than awealmess. The justification of evil sealeth up the lips, so that the soul cannot call God Father with that child-like liberty, or enjoy sweet communion with him, imtil peace be made by shaming ourselves, and renewing our faith. Those that have ever been bruised for sin, if they fall they are soon recovered. Peter was recovered with a gracious look of Christ ; David by Abigail's words. Tell a thief or a vagrant that he is out of the way, he regards it not, because his aim is not to walk in any certain way, but as it serveth his own turn. For the further clearing of this, we must conceive, 1, That wheresoever sins of infirmity are, there in that person must be the hfe of gi-ace begun. There can be no weakness, where there is no life. 2. There must be a sincere and general bent to the best things ; though for a sudden a godly man be drawn or driven aside in some particulars, yet by reason of that in- terest the Spirit of Christ hath in him, and because his aims ai-e right for the main, he will either recover of himself, or yield to the counsel of others. 3. There must be a right judgment allowing of the best ways, or else the heart is rotten, and infuseth corruption into the whole conversation, so that all their actions become infected at the spring-head ; they justify looseness, and condemn God's ways, as too much strictness ; their principles whereby they work are not good. 4. There must be a conjugal love to Christ, so * ' Weaknesses' . . to 'perfecteth liis strength.' This paragraph first added in B. 70 THE BRUISED BEED as upon no temis tliey will change their Lord and husband, and yield themselves absolutely over to be ruled by their own lusts, or the lusts of others. A Christian's carriage towards Christ may in many things be very oifen- sive, and cause some strangeness ; yet he will own Christ, and Christ him ; he will not resolve upon any way wherein he knows he must break with Christ. Where the heart is thus in these respects qualified, there we must know this, that Clu'ist counteth it his honour to pass by many infirmities, nay, in infirmities he perfecteth his strength. There be some almost invincible infirmities,* as forgetfulness, heaviness of spirit, sudden passions, fears, &c., which though natural, jet are for the most part tainted with sin ; of these, f if the life of Christ be in us, we are weary, and would fain shake them ofi", as a sick man his ague ; otherwise it is not to be esteemed weakness so much as wilfulness, and the more will, the more sin ; and little sins, when God shall awake the conscience, and 'set them in order before us,' Ps. 1. 21, will prove gi'eat burdens, and not only braise a reed, but shake a cedar. Yet God's children never sin with full will, because there is a contrary law of the mind, whereby the dominion of sin is broken, which always hath some secret working against the law of sin. Notwithstanding:};, there may be so much will in a sinful action, as may wonderfully waste our comfort after- ward, and keep us long upon the rack of a disquieted conscience, God in his fatherly dispensation suspending the sense of his love. So much as we give way to our will in sinning, in such a measure of distance we set ourselves from comfort. Sin against conscience is as a thief in the candle, which wasteth our joy, and thereby weakeneth our strength. We must know, therefore, that wilful breeches in sanctification will much hinder the sense of our justification. Quest. What course shall such take to recover their peace ? Ans. Such must give a shai-p sentence against themselves, and yet cast themselves upon God's mercy in Christ, as at their first conversion. And now they had need to clasp about Christ the faster, as they see more need in themselves, and let them remember the mildness of Christ here, that will not quench the smoking flax. Ofttimes we see that, after a deep humiliation, Christ speaks more peace than before, to witness the truth of this recon- ciliation, because he knows Satan's enterprises in casting down such, lower, and because such are most abased in themselves, and are ashamed to look Christ in the face, by reason of their unkindness. We see God did not only pardon David, but after much bruising gave him wise Solomon to suc- ceed him in the kingdom. We see in the Canticles, chap. vi. 44, that the church, after she had been humbled for her slighting of Christ, Christ sweetly entertains her again, and falleth into commendation of her beauty. We must know for our comfort that Christ was not anointed to this great work of the mediator for lesser sins only, but for the greatest, if we have but a spark of true faith to lay hold on him. Therefore, if there be any bruised reed, let him not except himself, when Christ doth not except him ; * Come unto mc, all ye that are weary and heavy laden,' &c.. Matt. xi. 28. Why should wc not make use of so gracious a disposition ? we are only therefore poor, because we know not our riches in Christ. In time of temptation, rather believe Christ than the devil, believe truth from truth itself, hearken not to a liar, an enemy, and a murderer. * A noccssitalibiis mcis libera me Domine. — Auff [tistine]. t ' If .... ill us,' added in B. J ' Yet,' in A. AND SMOKING FLAX. 71 [Chapter XVI. — Satan not to he believed, as he representeth Christ imto us.] Since Ckrist is thus comfortably set out unto us, let us not believe Satan's representations of bim. "\^1^en we are troubled in conscience for om- sius, his manner is then to present him to the afflicted soul as a most severe judge armed with justice against us. But then let us present him to our souls, as thus oflered to our view by God himself, as holding out a sceptre of mercy, and spreading his arms to receive us. When we think of Joseph, Daniel, John the Evangehst, &c., we frame conceits of them with delight, as of mild and sweet persons ; much more when we think of Christ, we should conceive of him as a mirror of all meekness. If the sweetness of all flowers were in one, how sweet must that flower needs be ? In Christ all perfec- tions of mercy and love meet ; how great then must that mercy be that lodgeth in so gracious a heart ? whatsoever tenderness is scattered in hus- band, father, brother, head, all is but a beam from him, it is in him in the most eminent manner. We are weak, but we are his ; we are deformed, but yet carry his image upon us. A father looks not so much at the blemishes of his child, as at his own natm-e in him ; so Christ finds matter of love from that which is his own in us. He sees his own nature in us : we are diseased, but yet his members. Who ever neglected his own mem- bers because they were sick or weak ? none ever hated his ovra flesh. Can the head forget the members ? can Christ forget himself ? we are his fulness, as he is ours. He was love itself clothed with man's nature, which he united so near to himself, that he might communicate his goodness the more freely unto us ; and took not our nature when it was at the best, but when it was abased, with all natural and common infirmities it was subject unto. Let us therefore abhor all suspicious thoughts, as either cast in or cherished by that damned spuit, who as he laboured to divide between the Father and the Son by jealousies, ' If thou be the Son of God,' &c., Matt, iv. 6, so his daily study is, to divide betwixt the Son and us, by breeding mispersuasions in us of Christ, as if there were not such tender love in him to such as we are. It was his art from the beginning to discredit God with man, by calling God's love into question, with our first father Adam ; his success then makes him ready at that weapon still. Object. But for all this, I feel not Christ so to me, saith the smoking flax, but rather the clean contrary ; he seemeth to be an enemy imto me, I see and feel evidences of his just displeasm-e, A)is. Christ may act the part of an enemy a little while, as Joseph did, but it is to make way for acting his own part of mercy in a more seasonable time; he cannot hold in his bowels long. He seemeth to wrestle with us, as with Jacob, but he supplies us with hidden strength, at length to get the better. Faith pulls ofi" the vizard from his face, and sees a loving heart under contrary appearances. Fides Chiisto larvam dctrahit. At first he answers the woman of Canaan crying after him not a word ; 2, Then gives her a denial ; 3, Gives an answer tending to her reproach, calling her dog, as being without the covenant ; yet she would not be so beaten ofi', for she considered the end of his coming. As his Father was never nearer him in strength to support him, than when he was fm-thest off" in sense of favour to comfort him ; so Christ is never nearer us in power to uphold us, than when he seemeth most to hide his presence from us. The influence of the Sun of righteousness pierceth deeper than his light. In such cases, whatsoever •(ilhrist's present carriage is towards us, let us oppose his nature and office 72 THE BRUISED REED against it ; he cannot deny himself, he cannot but discharge tno office his Father hath laid upon him. We see here the Father hath undertaken that he shall not ' quench the smoking flax ;' and Christ again undertaking for us to the Father, appearing before him for us, until he presents us blame- less before him, John xvii. 6, 11. The Father hath given us to Christ, and Christ giveth us back again to the Father. Object. This were good comfort, if I were but as smoking flax. Ans. It is well that thy objection pincheth upon thyself, and not upon Christ ; it is well thou givest him the honour of his mercy towards others, though not to thyself : but yet do not wi'ong the w^ork of his Spirit in thy heart. Satan, as he slandereth Christ to us, so he slandereth us to our- selves. If thou beest not so much as smoking flax, then why dost thou not renounce thy interest in Christ, and disclaim the covenant of grace ? This thou darest not do. Why dost thou not give uj) thyself wholly to other con- tents ? This thy spirit will not sufier thee. Whence come these restless groanings and complaints ? lay this thy present estate, together with this office of Christ to such, and do not despise the consolation of the Almighty, nor refuse thy own mercy. Cast thyself into the arms of Christ, and if thou perishest, perish there ; if thou dost not, thou art sure to perish. If mercy be to be found anywhere, it is there. Herein appears Christ's care to thee, that he hath given thee a heart in some degree sensible : he might have given thee up to hardness, security and profane- ness of heart, of all spiritual judgments the greatest. He that died for his enemies, will he refuse those, the desire of whose soul is towards him ? He that by his messengers deskes us to be reconciled, will he put us ofi" when we earnestly seek it at his hand ? No, doubtless, when he prevents us by kind- ling holy desires in us, he is ready to meet us in his own ways. When the prodigal set himself to return to his father, his father stays not for him, but meets him in the way. ' When he prej)ares the heart to seek, he will cause his ear to hear,' Ps. x. 17. He cannot find in his heart to hide himself long from us. If God should bring us into such a dark condition, as that we should see no light from himself, or the creature, then let us remember what he saith by the prophet Isaiah, ' He that is in darkness, and seeth no light,' Isa. 1. 10, no light of comfort, no light of God's countenance, ' yet let him trust in the name of the Lord.' We can never be in such a condition, wherein there will be just cause of utter despair ; therefore let us do as mariners do, cast anchor in the dark. Christ knows how to pity us in this case ; look what comfort he felt from his Father in his breakings, Isa. liii. 5, the like we shall feel from himself in our bruising. The sighs of a braised heart carry in them some report, as of our afiec- tion to Christ, so of his care to us. The eyes of our souls cannot be towards him, but that he hath cast a gracious look upon us first. The least love we have to him is but a reflection of his- love first shining upon us. As Christ did in his example whatsoever he gives us in charge to do, so he suflered in his own person whatsoever he calleth us to sufier, that he might the better learn to relieve and pity us in our sufferings. In his desertion in the garden, and upon the cross, he was content to want that unspeakable solace in the presence of his Father, both to bear the wrath of the Lojd for a time for us, and likewise to know the better how to comfort us in our greatest extremities. God seeth it fit we should taste of that cup of which his Son drank so deep, that we might feel a little what sin is, and what his Son's love was ; but our comfort is, that Christ drank the dregs of the cup for us, and will succour us, that our spirits utterly fail not under that little AND SMOKING FLAX. 73 taste of his displeasure which we may feel. He became not ocly a man, but a curse, a man of sorrows for us. He was broken, that we should not be broken ; he was troubled, that we should not be desperately troubled ; he became a curse, that we should not be accursed. Whatsoever may be wished for in an all-sufficient comforter, is aU to be found in Christ, 1. Authority from the Father, all power was given him,' Matt, xxviii. 18. 2. Strength in himself, as having his name the mighty God, Isa. ix. 6. 3. Wisdom, and that from his o\vn experience, how and when to help. 4. Willingness, as being flesh of our flesh, and bone of our bone, Isa. ix. 6. [Chapter XVII. — Beproqf of such as sin against this merciful disposition in Christ. Of quenching the Spirit.] We are now to take notice of divers sorts of men that offend deeply against this merciful disposition of Christ : as, 1, Such as go on in all ill com'ses of life upon this conceit, as if it were in vain to go to Christ, their lives have been so ill ; whenas so soon as we look to heaven, all encourage- ments are ready to meet us and draw us forward. Amongst others this is one allurement, that Christ is ready to Avelcome us, and lead us further. None are damned in the church but those that will. Such as either enforce upon themselves hard conceits of Christ, that they may have some show of reason to fetch contentment from other things : as that unprofitable ser- vant. Matt. XXV. 30, that would needs take up a conceit, that his master was a hard man ; hereby to flatter himself in his unfruitful courses, in not improving that talent which he had. 2. Such as take up a hope of their own, that Christ wiU suffer them to vvalk in the Tv^ays to hell, and yet bring them to heaven : whereas all com- fort should draw us nearer to Christ, else it is a lying comfort, either in itself or in our application of it. And 3. Those that will cast water themselves upon those sparks which Christ labours to kindle in them, because they will not be troubled with the light of them. Such must know that the Lamb can be angry, and they that will not come under his sceptre of mercy, shall be crushed in pieces by his sceptre of power, Ps. ii. 9. Though he will graciously tender and maintain the least spark of true grace, yet where he findeth not the spark of grace, but opposition to his Spirit striving with them, his wi'ath once kindled shaU burn to hell. There is no juster provocation than when kindness is churlishly refused. When God would have cured Babylon, and she would not be cured, then she was given up to destruction, Jer. li. 9. Wlien Jerusalem would not be gathered under the wing of Christ, then their habitation is left desolate, Matt, xxiii. 37, 38. When wisdom stretcheth out her hand and men refuse, then wisdom mU laugh at men's destruction, Prov. i. 26. Salvation itself will not save those that spill the potion, and cast away the plaster. A pitiful case, when this merciful Saviour shall delight in destraction : when he that made men shaU have no mercy on them, Isa. xxvii. 11. 0, say the rebels of the time, God hath not made us to damn us. Yes, if you will not meet Christ in the waj's of his mercy, it is fit you should * eat the fruit of your own ways, and be filled with your own devices,' Prov. i. 31. 74 THE BRUISED REED Tills will be tlie hell of hell, when men shall think, that they have loved their sins more than their souls ; when they shall think, what love and mercy hath been almost enforced upon them, and yet they would perish. The more accessary we are in pulling a judgment upon ourselves, the more the conscience will be confounded in itself, when they shall acknowledge Christ to be without all blame, themselves without excuse. If men appeal to their own consciences, they will tell them, the Holy Spirit hath often knocked at their hearts, as willing to have kindled some holy desii'es in them. How else can they be said to resist the Holy Ghost, but that the Spirit was readier to draw them to a further degree of goodness than stood with their own wills ? whereupon those in the church that are damned are self- condemned before. So that here we need not rise to higher causes, when men carry sufficient cause* in their own bosoms. 4. And the best of us all may offend against this merciful disposition, if we be not watchful against that liberty our carnal disposition wdll be ready to take from it. Thus we reason, if Christ will not quench the smoking flax, what need we fear that any neglect on our part can bring us under a comfortless condition ? If Christ will not do it, what can ? Ans. You know the apostle's prohibition notwithstanding, 1 Thess. v. 19, ' Quench not the Spirit.' These cautions of not quenching are sanctified by the Spirit as means of not quenching. Christ performeth his office in not quenching, by stirring up suitable endeavours in us ; and none more soli- citous in the use of the means than those that are most certain of the good success. The ground is this : the means that God hath set apart for the effecting of any thing, fall under the same purpose that he hath to bring that thing to pass ; and this is a principle taken for granted, even in civil matters ; as who, if he knew before it would be a frmtful year, would there- fore hang up his plough and neglect tillage 7 Hence the apostle stirs up from the certain expectation of a blessing, 1 Cor. XV. 57, 58, and this encouragement here from the good issue of final victory is intended to stir us up, and not to take us off. If we be negligent in the exercise of grace received, and use of means prescribed, suffering our spirits to be oppressed with multitudes and variety of cares of this life, and take not heed of the damps of the times, for such miscarriage God in his wise care suffereth us oft to fall into a worse condition for feeling, than those that were never so much enlightened. Yet in mercy he will not suffer us to be so far enemies to ourselves, as wholly to neglect these sparks once kindled. Were it possible that we should be given up to give over aU endeavour wholly, then we could look for no other issue but quenching ; but Christ will tend this spark, and cherish this small seed, so as he will preserve in the soul always some degree of care. If we would make a com- fortable use of this, we must consider all those means whereby Chi'ist doth preserve grace begun ; as first, holy communion, whereby one Christian iieateth another ; ' two are better than one,' &c., Eccles. iv. 9. ' Did not our hearts burn ?' Luke xxiv. 32, said the disciples. Secondly, much more communion with God in holy duties, as meditation and prayer, which doth not only kindle, but addeth a lustre to the soul. Thirdly, we feel by experience the breath of the Spirit to go along with the ministerial breath, whereupon the apostle knits these two together : ' Quench not the Spirit ;' 'despise not prophecies,' 1 Thess. v. 19, 20. Nathan by a few words blew up the decaying sparks in David. Rather than God will suffer his fire in US to die, he will st^nd some Nathan or other, and something always is left * ' Of their own damuatioii,' in A and B. AND SMOKING FLAX. 75 in US to join with the word as connatural to it ; as a coal that hath fire in it will quickly catch more to it : smoking flax wiU easily take fire. Fourthly, grace is strengthened by the exercise of it ; ' Up and be doing, and the Lord be with thee,' 1 Chi-on. xxii. 16, said David to his son Solomon : stir up tlie grace that is in thee, for so holy motions turn to resolutions, resolu- tions to practice, and practice to a prepared readiness to eveiy good work. Caution. Yet let us know that grace is increased in the exercise of it, not by virtue of the exercise itself, but as Christ by his Spirit floweth into the soul, and bringeth us nearer unto himself the fountain, and instilleth such comfort in the act, whereby the heart is fm-ther enlarged. The heart of a Christian is Christ's garden, and his graces are as so many sweet spices and flowers, which his Spirit blowing upon makes* them to send forth a sweet savour : therefore keep the soul open for entei-tainment of the Holy Ghost, for he will bring in continually fi'esh forces to subdue corruption, and this most of all on the Lord's day. John was in the Spirit on the Lord's day, even in Patmos, the place of his banishment, Rev. i. 10 ; then the gales of the Spirit blow more strongly and sweetly. As we look, therefore, for the comfort of this doctrine, let us not favour our natm-al sloth, ' but exercise om-selves to godliness,' 1 Tim. iv. 7, and labour to keep this fixe always burning upon the altar of our hearts, and dress our lamps daily, and put in fresh oil, and wind up our souls higher and higher still : resting in a good condition is contrary to gi-ace, which cannot but promote itself to a further measure ; let none turn this ' gi-ace into wantonness,' Jude 4. Lifirmities are a ground of humility, not a plea for negligence, not an encouragement to presumption. We should be so far from being ill, because Christ is good, as that those coals of love should melt us ; therefore those may well suspect themselves in whom the consideration of this mildness of Christ doth not work that way : surely where grace is, corruption is as ' smoke to their eyes, and vinegar to their teeth,' Prov. x. 29. And therefore they will labour in regard of their own comfort, as likemse for the credit of religion and the glory of God, that their light may break forth. If a spark of faith and love be so precious, what an honour mil it be to be rich in faith ! Who would not rather walk in the hght, and in the comforts of the Holy Ghost, than to Uve in a dark, perplexed estate ? and not rather to be carried with fuU sail to heaven, than to be tossed always with fears and doubts ? The present trouble in conflict against a sin is not so much as that disquiet which any corruption favoured will bring upon us afterward ; tnie peace is in conquering, not in yielding. The comfort in this text intended is for those that would fain do better, but find their corruptions clog them ; that are in such a mist, that ofttimes they cannot tell what to think of themselves ; that fain would beheve, and yet oft fear they do not beheve, and think that it cannot be that God should be so good to such sinful WTetches as they are ; and yet they allow not themselves in these fears and doubts. 5. And among others, how do they ^^Tong themselves and him, that wiU have other mediators to God for them than he ? Are any more pitiful than he, who became man to that end, that he might be pitiful to his o\a71 flesh ? Let all at aU times repair to this meek Sa^^our, and put up all our suits in his prevailing name. What need we knock at any other door ? can any be more tender over us than Christ ? AVhat encom-agement have we to com- mend the state of the church in general, or of any broken-hearted Chris- tian, unto him by our prayers ? Of whom we may speak mito Christ, as they of Lazarus, Lord, the church which thou lovest, and gavest thyself * ' Maketh,' in A and B. 76 THE BRUISED REED for, is in distress : Lord, this poor Christian, for whom thou wert braised, Isa. liii. 5, is bruised and brought very low. It cannot but touch his bowels when the misery of his own dear bowels is spread before him. G. Again, considering this gracious nature in Christ, let us think with ourselves thus : when he is so kind unto us, shall we be cruel against him in his name, in his truth, in his children ? how shall those that delight to be so terrible ' to the meek of the earth,' Zech. ii. 3, hope to look so gracious a Saviour in the face ? they that are so boisterous towards his spouse, shall know one day they had to deal with himself in his church. So it cannot but cut the heart of those that have felt this love of Christ, to hear him wounded who is the life of their lives, and the soul of their souls : this maketh those that have felt mercy weep over Christ, whom they have pierced with their sins. There cannot but be a mutual and quick sympathy between the head and the members. When we are tempted to any sin, if we will not pity ourselves, yet we should spare Christ, in not putting him to new torments. The apostle could not find out a more heart-breaking argument to enforce a sacrificing ourselves to God, than to conjure us by the mercies of God in Christ, Rom. xii. 1. 7. This mercy of Christ likewise should move us to commiserate the state -= of the poor church, torn by enemies without, and rending itself by divisions at home. It cannot but work upon any soul that ever felt com- fort fi-om Christ, to consider what an affectionate entreaty the apostle useth to mutual agreement in judgment and affection. ' If any consolation in Christ, if any comfort of love, if any fellowship of the Spirit, if any bowels and mercies, fulfil my joy, be like-minded,' Phil. ii. 1 ; as if he should say. Unless you will disclaim all consolation in Christ, &c., labour to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. What a joyful spec- tacle is this to Satan and his faction, to see those that are separated from the world fall in pieces among themselves ! Our discord is our enemy's melody. The more to blame those that for private aims affect dift'erences from others, and will not suffer the wounds of the church to close and meet together. Wliich must not be understood, as if men should dissemble their judgment in any truth w-here there is just cause of expressing them- selves ; for the least truth is Christ's and not ours, and therefore we are not to take liberty to aflirm or deny at our pleasures. There is a due in a penny as well as in a pound, therefore we must be faithful in the least truth, when season calleth for it. Then our ' words are like apples of gold with picturt!s of silver,' Prov. xxv. 11. One word spoken in season, will do more good than a thousand out of season. But in some cases peace, by ' keeping oiir faith to ourselves,' Rom. xiv. 22, is of more consequence than the open discovery of some things we take to be true ; considering the weakness of man's nature is such that there can hardly be a discovery of any difference in opinion, without some estrangement of affection. So far as men are not of one mind, they will hardly be of one heart, except where grace and the peace of God, Col. iii. 15, bear great rule in the heart : therefore open show of difference is never good but when it is necessary ; howsoever some, from a desire to be somebody, turn into by-ways, and yield to a spirit of contradiction in themselves ; yet, if St Paul may be judge, ' are they not carnal ? ' 1 Cor. iii. 3 ; if it be wisdom, it is wisdom from beneath : for the wisdom from above, as it is pure, so it is 2}eaceahle, James iii. 17. Our blessed Saviour, when he was to leave the world, what doth he pi'css upon his disciples more than peace and love ? And in his * ' Estate,' iu A and B. AND SMOKING FLAX. 77 last prayer, witli what earnestness did lie beg of Lis Father that ' they might be one, as he and the Father were one ! ' John xvii. 21. But what he prayed for on earth, we shall only enjoy perfectly in heaven. Let this make the meditation of that time the more sweet unto us. 8. And further, to lay open ofienders in this kind, what spirit shall we think them to be of, that take advantages of the bruisedness and infinni- ties of men's spirits to relieve them with false peace for their own worldly ends ? A wounded spirit wiU part with an}i;hing. Most of the gainful points of popeiy, as confession, satisfaction, merit, purgatory, &c., spring from hence, but they are physicians of no value, or rather tormentors than physicians at all. It is a gi-eater blessing to be delivered from the ' sting of these scorpions,' Rev. ix. 5, than we are thankful for. Spiritual tn'anny is the gi-eatest tyranny, and then especially when it is where most mercy should be shewed ; yet even there some, hke cruel surgeons, delight in making long cures, to serve themselves upon the misery of others. It bringeth men under a terrible cm'se, ' when they will not remember to shew mercy, but persecute the poor and needy man, that they might even slay the broken in heart,' Ps. cix. 16. Likewise, to such as raise temporal advantage to themselves out of the spiritual miseiy of others, join such as raise estates b}^ betraying the church, and are unfaithful in the trust committed unto them : when the children shall ciy for the bread of life, and there is none to give them, bringing thus upon the people of God that hea^w judgment of a spii'itual famine, starving Christ in his members ; shall we so requite so good a Saviom-, who counteth the love and mercy shewed ' in feeding his lambs,' John xxi. 15, as shewed to himself? Last of all, they carry themselves veiy unkindly towards (Jnrist, who stumble at this his low stooping imto us in his government and ordinances, that are ashamed of the simpUcity of the gospel, that count preaching foolishness. They, out of the pride of their heai't, think they may do well enough without the help of the word and sacraments, and think Christ took not state enough upon him ; and therefore they will mend the matter with their own devices, whereby they may give the better content to flesh and blood, as in popery. What greater untliankfulness can there be than to despise any help that Christ in mercy hath pro\ided for us ? In the days of his flesh, the proud Pharisees took offence at his famiUar conversing with sinful men, who only did so as a phj-sician to heal their souls. What defences was St Paul di'iven to make for himself, for his plainness in unfold- ing the gospel ? The more Christ, in himself and in his servants, shall descend to exalt us, the more we should, with all humility and readiness, entertain that love, and magnify the goodness of God, that hath put the great work of our salvation, and laid the government upon so gentle a Saviour, that wiU carry himself so mildly in all things wherein he is to deal betwixt God and us, and us and God. The lower Christ comes down to us, the higher let us lift him up in our hearts : so will all those do that have ever found the experience of Chiist's work in their heart. [Chapter XVIII. — Of Christ'' s judgment in us, and his victonj, what it is.] We come to the thii'd part, the constant progress of Christ's gracious power, until he hath set up such an absolute government in us, which shall 78 THE BRtTlSED SEED prevail over all corruptions. It is said here, lie will cherisli his beginnings of grace in us, until he bring forth judgment unto victory. By judgment here, is meant the kingdom of grace in us, that government whereby Christ sets up a throne in our hearts. Governors among the Jews were first called judges, then kings : whence this inward rule is called judgment ; as likewise, because it agi-ees unto the judgment of the word, which the psahn- ist oft calleth judgment, Ps. Ixxii. 1, 2, because it agreeth to God's judgment. Men may read their doom in God's word, what it judgeth of them God judgeth of them. By this judgment set up in us, good is discerned, allowed, and performed ; sin is judged, condemned, and executed. Our spirit being under the Spirit of Christ, is governed by him, and so far as it is governed by Christ, it governs us graciously. Christ and we are of one judgment, and of one will. He hath his will in us ; and his judgments are so invested into us, as that they are turned into our judgment, we carrying 'his law in our hearts, written by his Spirit,' Jer. xxxi. 33. The law in the inner man and the law wiitten, answer as counter- panes each other. The meaning then is, that the gracious frame of holiness set up in our hearts by the Spuit of Christ, shall go forward until all contrary power be brought under. The spirit of judgment will be a spuit of burning, Isa. iv. 4, to consume whatsoever opposed corruption like rust eats into the soul. If God's builders fall into errors, and build stubble upon a good foundation, God's Spirit, as a spiritual 'fire, will reveal this in time, 1 Cor. iii. 13,' and waste it. They shall, by a spirit of judgment, condemn their own errors and courses. The whole work of grace in us is set out under the name of judgment, and sometimes wisdom, because judgment is the chief and lead- ing part in grace ; whereupon that gracious work of repentance is called a change of the mind,* and an after- wisdom. As on the other side, in the learned languages, the words that do express wisdom imply likewise the general relish and savour of the whole soul,f and rather more the judgment of taste than of sight, or any other sense, because taste is the most neces- sary sense, and requireth the nearest application of the object of all other senses. So in spiritual life, it is most necessaiy that the Spirit should alter the taste of the soul, so as that it might savom* the things of the Spirit so deeply, that all other things should be out of rehsh. And as it is true of every particular Christian, that Christ's judgment in him shall be victorious, so likewise of the whole body of Christians — the church. The government of Christ, and his trath, whereby he ruleth as by a sceptre, shall at length be victorious in spite of Satan, antichrist, and all enemies. Christ 'riding on his white horse,' Rev. vi. 2, hath a bow, and goeth forth conquering, Rev. xix. 11, in the ministry, that he may over- come either to conversion or to confusion. But yet I take judgment for Christ's kingdom and government within us principally. 1. Because God especially requireth the subjection of the soul and conscience as his proper throne. 2. Because if judgment should prevail in aU other | about us and not in our own hearts, it would not yield comfort to us ; hereupon it is the first thing that we desire when we pray, ' Thy kingdom come,' that Christ would come and rule in our hearts. The kingdom of Christ in his ordi- nances servos but to bring Christ home into his own place, our hearts. The words being thus explained, that judgment here includeth the govern- ment of both mind, will, and a9"ections, there are divers conclusions that naturally do spring from them. * iXiTavoia. + (p^oviiv, sapere. J 'Others,' in A and B. AND SMOKING FLAX. 79 [Chapter XIX. — Christ is so mild that yet he will govern those that enjoy . the comfort of his mildness.] The first conclusion from the connection of this part of the verse with the former is, that Christ is upon those terms mild, so that he will set up his government in those whom he is so gentle and tender over. He so pardons as he will be obeyed as a king ; he so taketh us to be his spouse, as he will be obeyed as a husband. The same Spirit that convinceth us of the necessity of his righteousness to cover us, convinceth us also of the neces- sity of his government to rule us. His love to us moveth him to fi'ame us to be like himself, and om- love to him stirreth us up to be such as he may take delight in, neither have we any more faith or hope than care to be purged as he is pure ; he maketh us subordinate governors, yea, kings under himself, giving us grace not only to set against, but to subdue in some measure our base afiections. It is one main fruit of Christ's exaltation that he may turn every one of us from our wickedness. Acts iii. 2G. ' For this end Christ died and rose again and liveth, that he should be Lord of the dead and hving,' Kom. xiv. 9. God hath bound himself by an oath that he would gi'ant us, that ' without fear we might serve him in holiness ajid righteousness in his sight,' Lulce i. 75, not only in the sight of the world. 1. This may serve for a trial to discern who may lay just claim to Christ's mercy ; only those that will take his yoke, and count it a greater happiness to be under his government, than to enjoy any liberty of the flesh ; that mil take whole Christ, and not single out of him what may stand with their present contentment ; that will not di^-ide Lord from Jesus, and so niake a Christ of their o\\ti : none ever did truly desire mercy pardoning, but de- sired mercy healing. Da^dd prayeth for a new spirit, as well as for sense of pardonmg mercy, Ps. li. 10. 2. This sheweth that those are misled, that make Christ to be only righteousness to us, and not sanctification, except by imputation : whereas it is a great part of our happiness to be under such a Lord, who was not only bom for us, and given unto us, but ' hath the government likewise upon his shoulders,' Isa. ix. 6, 7, that is om- Sanctifier as well as our Saviour, our Saviom' as well by the effectual power of his Spirit from the power of sin, as by the merit of his death from the guilt thereof; so that this, 1, Be remembered, that the first and chief gi'ound of our comfort is, that Christ as a priest offered himself as a sacrifice to his Father for us. The guilty soul flieth first to Chxist crucified, made a curse for us. Thence it is that Chi-ist hath right to govern us, thence it is that he giveth us his Spii'it as our guide to lead us home. 2. In the com'se of our Hfe, after that we are in state of grace, and be overtaken with any sin, we must remember to have recourse first unto Christ's mercy to pardon us, and then to the promise of his Spirit to govern us. 3. And when we feel ourselves cold in afiection and duty, it is the best way to warm ourselves at this fire of his love and mercy in giving himself for us. 4. Again, rejnember this, that Christ, as he ruleth us, so it is by a spirit of love from a sense of his love, whereby his commandments are easy to us. He leadeth us by his free Spirit, a Spirit of liberty : his subjects are volun- taries. The constraint that he layeth upon his subjects is tliat of love : he 80 THE BRUISED REED draweth us witli the cords of love sweetly. Yet remember witlial, that he draweth us strongly by a Spirit of power, for it is not sufficient that we have motives and encouragements to love and obey Christ fi'om that love of his, whereby he gave himself for us to justify us ; but Christ's Spirit must hkewise subdue our hearts, and sanctify them to love him, without which all motives would be inefi'ectual. Our disposition must be changed, we must be new creatures ; they seek for heaven in hell that seek for spiritual love in an unchanged heart. When a child obeys his father, it is so from reasons persuading him, as likewise from a child-like nature which giveth strength to these reasons : it is natural for a child of God to love Christ so far as he is renewed, not only from inducement of reason so to do, but like- wise from an inward principle and work of grace, whence those reasons have their chief forces ; first, we are made partakers of the divine nature, and then we are easily induced and led by Christ's Spirit to spiritual duties. [Chapter XX. — The spiritual government of Christ is joined with judgment and wisdom.] The second conclusion is, that Christ's government in his church and in his children is a wise and well-ordered government, because it is called judgment, and judgment is the life and soul of wisdom. Of this conclusion there are two branches : 1. That the spiritual government of Christ in us is joined with judgment and wisdom. 2. Wheresoever true spiritual wisdom and judgment is, there likewise the Spirit of Christ bringeth in his gracious government. For the first, a well-guided life by the rules of Christ standeth with the strongest and highest reason of all ; and therefore holy men are called the ' chikh'eu of wisdom,' Luke vii. 31, and are able to justify, both by reason and experience, all the ways of wisdom. Opposite courses are folly and madness. Hereupon St Paul saith, that a ' spiritual man judgeth all things,' 1 Cor. ii. 15, that appertain to him, and is judged of none that are of an inferior rank, because they want spiritual light and sight to judge ; yet this sort of men will be judging, ' and speaking ill of what they know not,' 2 Pet. ii. 12 ; they step from ignorance to prejudice and rash censure, without taking right judgment in their way, and therefore their judgment comes to nothing. But the judgment of a spiritual man, so far forth as he is spiritual, shall stand, because it is agi'eeable to the nature of things : as things are in themselves, so they are in his judgment. As God is in him- self infinite in goodness and majesty, &c., so he is to him ; he ascribes to God in his heart his divinity and all his excellencies. As Christ is in him- self the only mediator, and all in all in the church. Col. iii. 11, so he is to him, by making Christ so in his heart. ' As all things are dung in com- parison of Christ,' Phil. iii. 8, so they are to Paul, a sanctified man. As the very worst thing in religion, ' the reproach of Christ is better than the pleasure of sin for a season,' Heb. xi. 26 ; so it is to Moses, a man of a right esteem. ' As one day in the courts of God is better than a thousand else- where,' Ps. Ixxxiv. 10, so it is to David, a man of a reformed judgment. There is a conformity of a good man's judgment to things as they are in themselves, and according to the difi'ercnce or agreement put by God in things, so doth his judgment difl'er or agree. Truth is truth, and error, error, and that which is unlawful is unlawful, whether men think so or no. God hath put an eternal difi'ercnce betwixt light and darkness, good and ill, which no creature's conceit can alter; and AND SMOKING FLAX. 81 therefore no man's judgment is the measure of things further than it agrees to truth stamped upon things themselves by God, Hereupon, because a wise man's judgment agrees to the truth of things, a wise man may in some sense be said to be the measure of things ; and the judgment of one holy wise man to be preferred before a thousand others. Such men usually are immoveable as the sun in its course, because they think, and speak, and live by rule. ' A Joshua and his house will serve God,' Josh. xxiv. 15, whatsoever others do, and will run a course contrary to the world, because their judgments lead them a contrary way. Hence it is that Satan hath a spite at the eye of the soul, the judgment, to put out that by ignorance and false reason, for he cannot rule in any until either he hath taken away or perverted judgment : he is a prince of darkness, and ruleth in darkness of the understanding. Therefore he must first be cast out of the understand- ing by the prevailing of truth, and planting it in the soul. Those therefore that are enemies of knowledge help Satan and antichrist, whose kingdom, Uke Satan's, is a kingdom of darlmess, to erect their throne. Hence it is promised by Christ, that ' the Holy Ghost shall convince the world of judg- ment,' John xvi. 8; that is, that he is resolved to set up a throne of government, because the great lord of misrule, ' Satan, the prince of the world,' is judged by the gospel, and the Spirit accompanying it, his im- postures are discovered, his enterprises laid open ; therefore when the gospel was spread, the oracles ceased, ' Satan fell from heaven like lightning,' Luke X. 18 ; men were * translated out of his kingdom into Christ's,' Col. i, 13. Where prevailing is by lies, there discovery is victoiy ; ' they shall proceed no further, for their folly shall be manifest to all,' 2 Tim. iii. 9. So that manifestation of error giveth a stop to it, for none will willingly be deceived. Let truth have full scope without check or restraint, and let Satan and his instruments do their worst, they shall not prevail ; as Jerome saith of the Pelagians in his time.^:- The discovery of your opinions is the vanquishing of them, 3'our blasphemies appear at the fu-st blush. Use. Hence we learn the necessity, that the understanding be principled with supernatm-al knowledge, for the well managing of a Christian con- versation. There must be light to discover a further end than nature, for which we are Christians, and a rule suitable directing to that end, which is the will of God in Christ, discovering his good pleasure toward us, and om- duty to- wards him ; and in virtue of this discovery we do all that we do, that any way may further our reckoning : ' The eye must first be single, and then the whole body and frame of our conversation will be light,' Matt. vi. 22 ; otherwise both we and our course of life are nothing but darkness. The whole conversation of a Christian is nothing else but knowledge digested into will, afi"ection, and practice. If the first concoction in the stomach be not good, that in the liver cannot be good ; so if there be error in the judgment, it mars the whole practice, as an error in the foundation doth the building : God will have ' no blind sacrifices, no unreasonable services,' Mai. i. 13, but will have us to 'love him with all our mind,' Eom. xii. 1, that is, wih our understanding part, as well as ' with all our hearts,' Luke x. 27, that is, the afiecting part of the soul. This order of Christ's government by judgment is agreeable unto the soul, and God delighteth to preserve the manner of working peculiar unto man, that is, to do what he doth out of judgment : as grace supposeth * Sententias vestras prodidisse, superasse est. — Hieron. in Epist. ad Ctesiphon : rima fronte apparent blasphcmise. VOL. I. F 82 THE BRUISED EEED nature as founded upon it, so the frame of gi-acc preservetli the frame of nature in man. And, therefore Christ bringeth all that is good in the soul through judgment, and that so sweetly, that many out of a dangerous error think, that that good which is in them and issueth from them is from themselves, and not from the powerful work of grace. As in evil, the devil so subtilly leadeth us according to the stream of our own nature, that men think that Satan had no hand in their sin ; but here a mistake is with little peril, because we are ill of ourselves, and the devil doth but promote what ill he findeth in us. But there are no seeds of supernatural goodness at all in us. God findeth nothing in us but enmity ; only he hath engraven this in our nature to incline in general to that which we judge to be good. Now when he shall clearly discover what is good in particular, we are carried to it ; and when convincingly he shaU discover that which is ill, we abhor it as freely as we embraced it before. From whence we may know, when we work as we should do or no, that is, when we do what we do out of inward principles, when we fall not upon that which is good, only because we are so bred, or because such or such whom we respect do so, or because we will maintain a side, so making religion a fixction; but out of judgment, when what we do that is good, we first judge it in ourselves so to be ; and what we abstain from that is ill, we fii'st judge it to be ill from an inward judgment. A sound Christian, as he enjoyeth the better part, so hath first made choice of it with Mary, Luke X. 42 ; he established all his thoughts by counsel, Prov. xx. 18. God indeed useth carnal men to very good service, but without a thorough altering and conviction of their judgment. =''- He worketh by them, but not in them, therefore the}'' do neither approve the good they do, nor hate the evU thev abstain fi-om. [Chapter XXI. — Where true ivisdom and judgment is, there Christ sets up his government.] The second branch is, that wheresoever true wisdom and judgment is, there Christ hath set vip his government ; because where wisdom is, it directs us not only to understand, but to order our ways aright. Where Christ by his Spirit as a prophet teaches, he likewise as a king by his Spirit subdueth the heart to obedience of what is taught. This is that teaching which is promised of God, when not only the brain, but the heart itself, is taught : when men do not only know what they should do, but are taught the very doing of it; they are not only taught that they should love, fear, and obey, but they are taught love itself, and fear and obedience itself. Christ sets ■ up his chair in the veiy heart, and alters the frame of that, and makes his subjects good, together with teaching of them to be good. Other princes can make good laws, but they ' cannot write them in their people's hearts,' Jer. xxxii. 40. This is Christ's prerogative, he infuseth into his subjects his own Spirit, ' Upon him there doth not only rest the spirit of wisdom and understanding, but likewise the spirit of the fear of the Lord,' Isa. xi. 2. The knowledge which we have of him from himself, is a transforming know- ledge, 2 Cor. iii. 18. The same Spirit that cnlighteneth the mind, inspireth gracious inclinations into the will and affections, and infuseth strength into the whole man. As a gracious man judgeth as he should, so he aflectcth and doth as he judgeth, his life is a commentary of his inward * ' Judgmenta.' in A and B. AND SMOKING FLAX. §3 man ; there is a sweet hannony betwixt God's trath, his judgment, and his whole conversation. The heart of a Chi-istian is Hke Jerusalem when it was at the best, a city compact within itself, Psa. cxii. 3 ; where are setup the thrones of judgment, Ps. cxxii. 5. Judgment should have a throne in the heart of every Christian. Not that judgment alone will work a change, there must be grace to alter the bent and sway of the will, before it will yield to be wi'ought upon by the understanding. But God hath so joined these together, as that whensoever he doth savingly shine upon the under- standing, he giveth a soft and pliable heart ; for without a work upon the heart by the Spirit of God, it will follow its own inclination to that which it afiecteth, whatsoever the judgment shall say to the contrary : there is no connatural proportion betwixt an unsanctified heart and a sanctified judg- ment. For the heart imaltered will not give leave to the judgment coldly and soberly to conclude what is best : as the sick man whilst his aguish distemper corrupteth his taste, is rather desirous to please that, than to hearken what the physician shall speak. Judgment hath not power over itself where the will is unsubdued, for the will and aifections bribe it to give sentence for them, when any profit or pleasure shall come in competition with that which the judgment in general only shall think to be good ; and, therefore, it is for the most part in the power of the heart, what the under- standing shall judge and determine in particular things. Where gi-ace hath brought the heart under, there unruly passions do not cast such a mist before the understanding, but that in particular it seeththat which is best ; and base respects, springing from self-love, do not alter the case, and bias the judgment into a contrary way ; but that which is good in itself shall be good unto us, although it cross our particular worldly interests. Use. The right concei^-ing of this hath an iniiuence into practice, which hath drawn me to a more full explanation : this will teach us the right method of godliness, to begin with judgment, and then to beg of God, together with illumination, holy inchnations of our will and affections, that so a perfect government may be set up in our hearts, and that our ' know- ledge may be with all judgment,' Phil. i. 9, that is, with experience and feeling. When the judgment of Christ is set up in our judgments, and thence, by the Spirit of Christ, brought into our hearts, then it is in its pro- per place and throne ; and until then, truth doth us no good, but helpeth to condemn us. The life of a Christian is a regular hfe, and he that walketh by the rule. Gal. vi. 16, of the new creature, peace shall be upon him : ' he that despiseth his way and loveth to live at large, seeking all liberty to the flesh, shall die,' Prov. xix. 16. And it is made good by St Paul,' ' If we live after the flesh, we shall die,' Eom. viii. 13. We learn likewise, that men of an ill governed life have no true judg- ment : no wicked man can be a wise man. And that without Cluist's Spirit the soul is in confusion, without beauty and form, as all things were in the chaos before the creation. The whole soul is out of joint till it be set in again by him whose office is to ' restore all things.' The baser part of the soul which should be subject, ruleth all, and keepeth under that Httle truth that is in the understanding, holding it captive to base affections ; and Satan by corruption getteth all the holds of the soul, till Christ, stronger than he, cometh, and driveth him out, and taketh possession of all the powers and parts of soul and body, to be weapons of righteousness, to sei-ve him, and then new lords new laws. Christ as a new conqueror change th the fundamental laws of old Adam, and estabhsheth a government of his own. 84 THE BRUISED KEED [Chapter XXII. — Chnst's governmeyit is victorious.] The third conclusion is, that this government is victorious. The reasons are: — 1. Because Christ hath conquered, all in his own person first, and he is God over all, blessed for evermore ; and therefore over ' sin, death, hell, Satan, the world,' &c., Rom. ix. 5. And as he hath overcome them in himself, so he overcomes them in our hearts and consciences. We use to say, conscience maketh a man a king or a caitifi", because it is planted in us to judge for God, either with us or against us. Now if natural conscience be so forcible, what wiU it be when besides its own hght it hath the light of divine truth put into it ? It will undoubtedly prevail, either to make us hold up our heads with boldness, or abase us beneath ourselves. If it subject itself by grace to Christ's truth, then it boldly overlooks death, heU, judgment, and all spiritual enemies, because then Christ sets up his kingdom in the conscience, and makes it a kind of paradise. The sharpest conflict which the soul hath is between the conscience and God's justice : now if the conscience, sprinkled with the blood of Christ, hath prevailed over assaults fetched from the justice of God as now satisfied by Christ, it will prevail over all other opposition whatsoever. 2. We are to encounter with accursed and damned enemies ; therefore, if they begin to fall before the Spirit in us, they shall fall : if they rise up again, it is to have the greater fall. 3. The Spirit of truth, to whose tuition Christ hath committed his church, and the truth of the Spirit, which is the sceptre of Christ, abide for ever ; therefore the soul begotten by the immortal seed of the Spirit, 1 Pet. i. 23, and this truth, must not only live for ever, but likewise prevail over aU that oppose it, for both the word and Spirit are mighty in operation, Heb. iv. 12 ; and if the ill spirit be never idle in those whom God delivereth up to him, we cannot think that the Holy Spirit will be idle in those whose leading and government is committed to him. No ; as he dwelleth in them, so he will drive out all that rise up against him, until he be all in all. What is spiritual is eternal. Truth is a beam of Christ's Spirit, both in itself and as it is ingrafted into the soul, therefore it, and the gi'ace, though little, wrought by it, will prevail. A little thing in the hand of a giant wiU do great matters. A little faith strengthened by Christ wiU work wonders. 4. ' To him that hath shall be given,' Matt. xxv. 29 ; the victory over any corruption or temptation is a pledge of final victory. As Joshua said when he set his foot upon the five kings which he conquered, * Thus God shall do with all our enemies,' Josh. x. 25 ; heaven is ours aheady, only we strive till we have full possession. 5. Christ as king brings in a commanding light into the soul, and bows the neck, and softens the iron sinew of the inner man ; and where he begins to rule, he rules for ever, ' his kingdom hath no end,' Luke i. 33. 6. The cud of Christ's coming was to destroy the works of the devil, both for us and in us ; and the end of the resurrection was, as to seal unto us the assurance of his victory ; so, 1, To quicken our souls from death in sin ; 2, To free our souls from such snares and sorrows of spiritual death as accompany the guilt of sin ; 3, To raise them up more comfortable, as the sun breaks forth more gloriously out of a thick cloud ; 4, To raise us out of particular slips and failings, stronger ; 5, To raise us out of all troublesome and dark conditions of this life ; and, 6, At length to raise our AND SMOKING FLAX. 85 bodies out of the dust. For the same power that the Spirit shewed in raising Christ, oui- head, from the sorrows of death, and the lowest degree of his abasement ; the same power obtained by the death of Christ from God, now appeased by that sacrifice, will the Spirit shew in the church, which is his body, and in every particular member thereof. And this power is conveyed by faith, whereby, after union with Christ in both his estates of humiliation and exaltation, we see ourselves not only ' dead with Christ, but risen and sitting together with him in heavenly places,' Eph. ii. 6. Now we, apprehending ourselves to be dead and risen, and thereupon victorious over all oiu' enemies in our head, and apprehending that his scope in all this is to conform us to hunself, we are by this faith changed into his likeness, 2 Cor. iii. 18, and so become conquerors over all our spiritual enemies, as he is, by that power which we derive from him who is the storehouse of all spiritual strength for all his. Christ at length will have his end in us, and faith resteth assured of it, and this assurance is very operative, stirring us up to join with Christ in his ends. -, And so for the chm-ch in general, by Christ it will have its victory : 4^ Christ is * that httle stone cut out of the mountain without hands, that breaketh hi pieces that goodly image,' Dan. ii. 35, that is, all opposite government, until it become ' a great mountain, and fiUeth the whole earth.' So that the stone that was cut out of the mountain, becomes a mountain itself at length. Who art thou, then, mountain, that thinkest to stand up against this mountain ? All shall lie flat and level before it : he will bring down all mountainous, high, exalted thoughts, and lay the pride of aU flesh low. AVlien chafi' strives against the wind, stubble against the fire, when the heel kicks against the pricks, when the potsherd strives with the potter, when man strives against God, it is easy to know on which side the victoiy will go. The winds may toss the ship wherein Christ is, but not ■ overturn it. The waves may dash against the rock, but they do but break themselves against it. Object. If this be so, why is it thus with the church of God, and with many a gracious Christian ? the victoiy seemeth to go -with the enemy. Ans. For answer, remember, 1, God's children usually in their troubles overcome by sufiering ; here lambs overcome lions, and doves eagles, by eufiering, that herein they may be conformable to Christ, who conquered •most when he sufiered most ; together with Christ's kingdom of patience there was a kingdom of power. 2. This victory is by degrees, and therefore they are too hasty- spirited tiiat would conquer so soon as they strike the first stroke, and be at the end of their race at the first setting forth ; the Israelites were sm'e of their ^^c- tor}"- in their voyage (f) to Canaan, yet they must tight it out. God would not have us presently forget what cruel enemies Christ hath overcome for us ; ' Destroy them not, lest the people forget it, saith the Psalmist, Ps. hx. 11. That so by the experience of that annoyance yve have by them, we might be kept in fear to come under the power of them. 3. That God often worketh by contraries : when he means to give vic- tory, he will sufi'er us to be foiled at fii'st ; when he means to comfort, he will terrify first ; when he means to justify, he will condemn us first ; whom he means to make glorious, he will abase first. A Christian conquers, even when he is conquered ; when he is conquered by some sins, he gets victory over others more dangerous, as spiritual pride, security, &c. 4. That Christ's work, both in the chm-ch and in the hearts of Christians, often goeth backward, that it may go the better forward. As seed rots in 86 THE BRUISED EEED the ground in the winter time, but after comes better up, and the harder the winter the more flourishing the spring, so we learn to stand by falls, and get strength by weakness discovered — virtutis ciistos injirmitas — we take deeper root by shaking ; and, as torches flame brighter by moving, thus it pleaseth Christ, out of his freedom, in this manner to maintain his govern- ment in us. Let us herein labour to exercise our faith, that it may answer Christ's manner of carriage towards us ; when we are foiled, let us beheve we shall overcome ; when we are fallen, let us believe we shall rise again. Jacob, after he had a ' blow upon which he halted, yet would not give over wrestUng,' Gen. xxxii. 24, till he had gotten the blessing; so let us never give over, but in our thoughts knit the beginning, progi'ess, and end toge- ther, and then we shall see ourselves in heaven out of the reach of all ene- mies. Let us assure ourselves that God's grace, even in this imperfect estate, is stronger than man's free will in the state of first perfection, being"-;' founded now in Christ, who, as he is the author, so will be ' the finisher, of our faith,' Heb. xii. 2 ; we are under a more gracious covenant. Thatf which some say of faith rooted, Jides radicata, that it continueth, but weak faith may come to nothing, seemeth to be crossed by this Scrip- ture ; for, as the strongest faith may be shaken, so the weakest where truth is, is so far rooted, that it will prevail. Weakness with watchfulness will stand out, when strength with too much confidence faileth. Weakness, with acknowledging of it, is the fittest seat and subject for God to perfect his strength in ; for consciousness of our infii'mities driveth us out of ourselves to him in whom our strength lieth. Hereupon it foUoweth that weakness may stand with the assurance of salvation ; the disciples, notwithstanding all their weaknesses, are bidden to rejoice, Luke x. 20, that their names are written in heaven. Failings, with conflict, in sanctification should not weaken the peace of our justifica- tion, and assurance of salvation. It mattereth not so much what ill is in us, as what good ; not what corruptions, but how we stand afiected to them ; not what our particular failings be, so much as what is the thread and tenor of our lives ; for Christ's mislike of that which is amiss in us, redounds not to the hatred of our persons,:}: but to the victorious subduing of all our infirmities. Some have, after conflict, wondered at the goodness of God, that so little and shaking faith should have upheld them in so great combats, when Satan had almost catched them. And, indeed, it is to be wondered how much a little grace will prevail with God for acceptance, and over our enemies for victory, if the heart be upright. Such is the goodness of our sweet Saviour, that he delighteth still to shew his strength in our weakness. Use 1. First, therefore, for the great consolation of poor and weak Christians, let them know, that a spark from heaven, though kindled under greenwood that sobs (7) and smokes, yet it will consume all at last. Love once kindled is strong as death, much water cannot quench it, and therefore it is called a vehement flame, or flame of God, Cant. viii. 6, kindled in the heart by the Holy Ghost ; that little that is in us is fed with an everlast- ing spring. As the fire that came down from heaven in Elias his time, 1 Kings xviii. 38, hcked up all the water, to shew that it came from God, so will this fire spend all our corruption ; no aftliction without, or corrup- tion within, shall quench it. In the morning we see oft clouds gather about the sun, as if they would hide it, but the sun wasteth them by little and little, till it come to its full strength. At the first, fears and doubts hinder * ' And it is,' in A. j ' That . . . lieth,' added first in B. % ' Person,' in A and B. AND SMOKING FLAX. 87 the breaking out of this fire, until at length it gets above them all, and Christ prevails ; and then he backs his own graces in us. Grace conquers us first, and we by it conquer all things else ; whether it be corruptions within us, or temptations without us. The church of Christ, begotten by the word of truth, hath the doctrine of the apostles for her crown, and tramples the moon, that is, the world, and all worldly things, ' under her feet,' Eev. xii. 1 ; ' every one that is born of God overcometh the world,' 1 John v. 4. Faith, whereby espe- cially Christ rules, sets the soul so high, that it overlooks all other things as far below, as having represented to it, by the Spirit of Christ, riches, honour, beauty, pleasures of a higher nature. Now that we may not come short of the comfort intended, there are two things especially to be taken notice of by us : 1. Whether there be such a judgment or government set up in us, to which this promise of victory is made. 2. Some rules or directions how we are to carry om'selves, that the judgment of Christ in us may indeed be victorious. The evidences whereby w^e may come to know that Christ's judgment in us is such as will be victorious, are, 1, If we be able from experience to justify all Clirist's ways, let flesh and blood say what it can to the contrary, and can willingly subscribe to that course which God hath taken in Christ, to bring us to heaven, and still approve a further measure of grace than v/e have attained unto, and project and forecast for it. No other men can justify their courses, when their conscience is awaked. 2. When reasons of religion be the strongest reasons with us, and prevail more than reasons fetched from worldly policy. 3. When we are so true to our ends and fast to our rule, as no hopes or fears can sway us another way, but still we are looking what agrees or differs from our rale. 4. When we * can do nothing against the truth, but for the truth,' 2 Cor. xiii. 8, as being dearer to us than our lives ; truth hath not this sovereignty in the heart of any carnal man. 5. "WTien if we had liberty to choose under whose government we would live, yet out of a delight in the inner man to Christ's government we would make choice of him only to rule us before any other, for this argues, that we are like-minded to Christ, a free and a voluntary people, and not compelled unto Christ's sei-vice, otherwise than by the sweet constraint of love. When we are so far in liking with the government of Christ's Spirit, that we are willing to resign up ourselves to him in all things, for then his kingdom is come unto us, when om' wills are brought to his will. It is the bent of our wills that maketh us good or ill. 6. A well ordered uniform life, not by fits or starts, shews a well ordered heart a m a cloc;k when the hammer strikes well, and the hand of the dial points well, it is a sign that the wheels are right set. 7. When Christ's will Cometh in competition with any earthly loss or gain, yet if then, in that particular case, the heart will stoop to Christ, it is a ti'ue sign ; for the truest trial of the power of grace is in such particular cases which touch us nearest, for there our corruption maketh the greatest head. When Christ Came near home to the young man. Matt. x. 22, in the gospel, he lost a disciple of him. 8. When we can practise duties pleasing to Christ, though contrary to flesh, and the course of the world, and when we can over- come ourselves in that evil to w'hieh our nature is prone, and standeth so much inclined unto, and which agi-eeth to the sway of the times, and which others lie enthralled under, as desire of revenge, hatred of enemies, private ends, &c., then it appears that grace is in us above nature, heaven above earth, and will have the victory. 88 THE BRUISED REED For the further clearing of this and helping of us in our trial, we must know there be three degrees of victoiy. 1. When we resist though we be foiled. 2. When grace gets the better though with conflict. 3. When all corruption is perfectly subdued. Now we have strength but only to resist, yet we may know Christ's government in us will be victorious, because what is said of the devil is said of all our spiritual enemies, ' If we resist, they shall in time fly from us,' James iv. 7 ; because ' stronger is he that is inns,' thattaketh part with his own grace, ' than he that is in the world,' 1 John iv. 4. And if we may hope for victory upon bare resistance, what may we not hope for when the Spirit hath gotten the upper hand ? [Chapter XXIII. — Means to make Ch'ace victorious.] For the second, that is, directions. We must know, though Christ hath undertaken this victory, yet he ac- complisheth it by training us up to fight his battles ; he overcometh in us, by making us 'wise to salvation,' 2 Tim. iii. 15 ; and in what degree we believe Christ will conquer, in that degree we will endeavour by his grace that we may conquer ; for faith is an obedient and a wise grace. Christ maketh us wise to ponder and weigh things, and thereupon to rank and order them so as we may make the fitter choice of what is best. Some rules to help us in judging are these : (1.) To judge of things as they help or hinder the main; (2.) as they further or hinder our reckoning ; (3.) as they make us more or less spiritual, and so bring us nearer to the fountain of goodness, God himself; (4.) as they bring us peace or sorrow at the last ; (5.) as they commend us more or less to God, and wherein we shall approve ourselves to him most; (6.) likewise to judge of things now, as we shall do hereafter when the soul shall be best able to judge, as when we are under any pubUc calamity, or at the hoiu" of death, when the soul gathereth itself from all other things to itself. (7.) Look back to former experience, see what is most agreeable unto it, what was best in our worst times. If grace is or was best then, it is best now. And (8.) labour to judge of things as he doth who must judge us, and as holy men judge, who are led by the* Spirit ; more particularly, (9.) what those judge, that have no interest in any benefit that may come by the thing which is in question : for outward things blind the eyes even of the wise ; we see papists are most corrupt in those things where their honour, ease, or profit is engaged; but in the doctrine of the Trinity, which doth not touch upon these things, they are sound. But it is not sufiicient that judgment bo right, but likewise ready and strong. 1. Where Christ cstablisheth his government, he inspireth care to keep the judgment clear and fresh, for whilst the judgment standeth straight and firm, the whole frame of the soul continucth strong and impregnable. True judgment in us advanceth Christ, and Christ will advance it. All sin is either from false principles, or ignorance, or mindlessness, or unbelief of tru^vt^ By inconsideration and weakness of assent. Eve lost her hold at first. Gen. iii. G. It is good, therefore, to store up true principles in om' hearts, and to refresh them often, that in virtue of them our affections and actions may be more vigorous. When judgment is fortified, evil finds no entrance, but good things have a side within us, to entertain them. Whilst true convincing light continucth, we will not do the least iU of sin for the greatest * ' His.' in A aud B. I AMD SMOKING FLAX, 89 ill of punishment. * In vain is the net spread in the eyes of that which hath wings,' Prov. i. 17. Whilst the soul is kept aloft, there is little danger of snares below ; we lose oiu' high estimation of things before we can be drawn to any sin. And because knowledge and affection mutually help one another, it is good to keep up our affections of love and delight, by all sweet inducements and divine encouragements ; for what the heai't liketh best, the mind studieth most. Those that can bring their hearts to delight in Christ know most of his ways. Wisdom loveth him* that loves her. Love is the best entertainer of truth; and when it is not 'entertained in the love of it,' 2 Thess. ii. 10, being so lovely as it is, it leaveth the heart, and will stay no longer. It hath been a prevailing way to begin by withdrawing the love to corrupt the judgment ; because as we love, so we use to judge ; and therefore it is hard to be affectionate and wise in earthly things ; but in heavenly things, where there hath been a right information of the judgment before, the more our affections gi'ow, the better and clearer our judgments will be, because our affections, though strong, can never rise high enough to the excellency of the things. We see in the martyrs, when the sweet doctrine of Christ had once gotten their hearts, it could not be gotten out again by all the torments the wit of cruelty could devise. If Christ hath once possessed the affections, there is no dispossessing of him again. A fire in the heart overcometh all fires without. 3. Wisdom likewise teacheth us wherein our weakness lieth, and our enemy's strength, whereby a jealous fear is stirred up in us, whereby we are preserved ; for out of this godly jealousy we keep those provocations which are active and working, from that which is passive and catching in us, as we keep fire from powder. They that will hinder the generation of noisome creatures will hinder the conception first, by keeping male and female asunder. This jealousy will be much furthered by observing strictly what hath helped or hindered a gi-acious temper in us ; and it will make us take heed that we consult not with flesh and blood in ourselves or others. How else can we think that Christ will lead us out to Adctory, when we take counsel of his and our enemies ? 4. Christ maketh us likewise careful to attend all means whereby fresh thoughts and affections may be stirred up and preserved in us. Christ so honoureth the use of means, and the care he putteth into us, that he ascribeth both preservation and victoiy unto our care of keeping om'selves. * He that is begotten of God keepeth himself,' 1 John v. 18, but not by himself, but by the Lord, in dependence on him on the use of means. We are no longer safe than wise to present ourselves to all good advantages of acquaintance, &c. By going out of God's walks we go out of his govern- ment, and so lose our frame, and find ourselves overspread quickly with a contrary disposition. "When we di-aw near to Christ, James iv. 8, in his ordinances, he di*aws near unto us. 5. Keep gi-ace in exercise. It is not sleepy habits, but grace in exercise, that presei-veth us. Whilst the soul is in some civil or sacred employment, corruptions mthin us are much suppressed, and Satan's passages stopped, and the Spirit hath a way open to enlarge itself in us, and likewise the guard of angels then most nearly attends us ; which course often prevails more against om- spiritual enemies than direct opposition. It stands upon Christ's honour to maintain those that are in his work. 6. Sixthly, in all directions we must look up to Chi-ist the quickening * ' Them,' in A and B. 90 THE BRUISED BEED Spirit, and resolve in his strength. Though we ai'e exhorted to ' cleave to the Lord with full purpose of heart,' Acts xi. 23, yet we must pray with David, ' Lord, for ever keep it in the thoughts of our hearts, and prepare our hearts unto thee,' 1 Chron. xxix. 13. Our hearts are of themselves very loose and unsettled, ' Lord, unite our hearts unto thee to fear thy name,' Ps. Ixxxvi. 11, or else, without him, our best purposes will fall to the gi'ound. It is a pleasing request, out of love to God, to beg such a frame of soul from him, wherein he may take delight ; and therefore in the use of all the means we must send up our desires and complaints to heaven to him for strength and help, and then we may be sure that ' he will bring forth judgment unto victory.' 7. Lastly, it furthers the state of the soul, to know what frame it should be in, that so we may order our souls accordingly. We should always be fit for communion with God, and be heavenly-minded in earthly business, and be willing to be taken off from them, to redeem time for better things. We should be ready at all times to depart hence, and to live in such a con- dition as we would be content to die in. We should have hearts prepared for every good duty, open to all good occasions, and shut to all temptations, keeping our watch, and being always ready armed. So far as we come short of these things, so far we have just cause to be humbled, and yet press forward, that vfe may gain more upon ourselves, and make these things more familiar and lovely unto us ; and when we find our souls any ways falling downwards, it is best to raise them up presently by some waking meditations, as of the presence of God, of the strict reckoning we are to make, of the infinite love of God in Christ, and the fruits of it, of the excellency of a Christian's calling, of the short and uncertain time of this life ; how little good all those things that steal away our hearts wiU do us ere long, and how it shall be for ever with us thereafter, as we spend this little time well or ill, &c. The more we give way for such considera- tions to sink into our hearts, the more we shall rise nearer to that state of soul which we shall enjoy in heaven. When we grow regardless of keeping our souls, then God recovers our taste of good things again by sharp crosses. Thus David, Solomon, Samson, &c., were recovered. It is much easier kept than recovered. Object. But, notwithstanding my striving, I seem to stand at a stay. Ans. 1. Grace, as the seed in the parable, grows, we know not how, yet at length, when God seeth fittest, we shall see that all our endeavour hath not been in vain. The tree falleth upon the last stroke, yet all the former strokes help it forward. Ans. 2. Sometimes victory is suspended because some Achan is not found out, Judges xx. 26, or because we are not humble enough, as Israel had the worst against the Benjamites till they fasted and prayed ; or be- cause we betray our helps, and stand not upon our guard, and yield not presently to the motions of the Spirit, which mindeth us always of the best things, if we would regard it. Our own consciences wiU tell us, if we give them leave to speak, that some sinful favouring of ourselves is the cause. The way in this case to prevail is, 1, To get the victory over the pride of our own nature, by taking shame to oiirselvcs, in humble confession to God; and then, 2, To overcome the unbelief of our hearts, by yielding to the promise of pardon; and then, 3, In confidence of Christ's assistance, to set ourselves against those sins which have prevailed over us ; and then pre- vailing over ourselves, we shall easily prevail over aU our enemies, and conquer all conditions wo shall be brought into. AND SMOKING FLAX. ' 91 [Chapter XXTV. — All should side with Christ.] Use 2. If Christ ■v^'ill have the victory, then it is the best way for nations and states to ' kiss the Son,' Ps. ii. 12, and to embrace Chiist and his religion, to side with Christ, and to ovra his cause in the world. His side will prove the stronger side at last. Happy are we if Chi'ist honour us so much as to use oiu- help ' to fight his battle against the mighty,' Judges v. 23. True religion in a state is as the main pillar of a house, and stalf of a tent that upholds all. 2. So for families, let Christ be the chief governor of the family ; and 3, Let every one be as a house of Christ, to dwell familiarly in, and to rule. Where Christ is, all happiness must foUow. If Christ goeth, all will go, T\Tiere Chi-ist's government in his ordinances and his Spirit is, there all subordinate government will prosper. Religion inspu'eth life and grace into all other things ; all other virtues, without it they are but as a fair pic- ture without a head. Where Chi-ist's laws are written in the heai't, there aU other good laws are best obeyed. None despise man's law but those that despise Christ's fii'st. Nemo hiimanam authoritatem contemnit, nisi qui divinam prius contempsit. Of all persons, a man guided by Christ is the best ; and of all creatures in the world, a man giiided by wUl and affection, next the devil, is the worst. The happiness of weaker things stands in being ruled by stronger. It is best for a blind man to be guided by him that hath sight, it is best for sheep, and such Hke shiftless creatures, to be guided by man, and it is happiest for man to be guided by Christ, be- cause his government is so victorious that it frees us from the fear and danger of om* greatest enemies, and tends to bring us to the gi-eatest happi- ness that our natiu-e is capable of. This should make us to joy when Christ reigneth in us. A\Tien ' Solomon was crowned, the people shouted,' so that the earth rang,' 1 I\ings i. 39, 40. Much more should we rejoice in Christ our king. And likewise for those whose souls are dear unto us, our endeavour should be that Clmst may reign in them also, that ihej may be baptized by Christ with this fire. Matt. iii. 11, that these sparks may be kindled in them. Men laboiu" to cherish the spirit and mettle, as they tenn it, of those they train up, because they think they wUl have use of it in the manifold affairs and troubles of this life. Oh, but let us cherish the sparks of grace in them ; for a natm-al spirit in great troubles will fail, but these sparks will make them conquerors over the greatest evils. Use 3. If Christ's judgment shall be victorious, then popery, being an opposite frame, set up by the wit of man to maintain stately idleness, must fall. And it is fallen akeady in the hearts of those upon whom Christ hath shined. It is a lie, and founded upon a lie, upon the infallible judg- ment of a man subject to sin and error. When that which is taken for a principle of truth becomes a principle of error, the more relpng upon it, the more danger. [Chapter XXV. — Christ's government shall he openly victorious.] It is not only said, judgment shall be victorious, but that Christ will bring it openly forth to victory. Whence we observe that grace shall be glory, and run into the eyes of all. Now Christ doth conquer, and hath his own ends, but it is in some sort invisibly. His enemies within and without us 92 THE BEUISED KEED seem to have the better. But lie will bring forth judgment unto victory, to the view of all. The wicked that now shut their eyes shall see it to their torment. It shall not be in the power of subtle men to see or not see what they would. Christ will have power over their hearts ; and as his wrath shall immediately seize upon their souls against their wills, so will he have power over the eyes of theu* souls, to see and know what will increase their miseiy. Grief shall be fastened to all their senses, and their senses to grief. Then all the false glosses which they put upon things shall be wiped off. Men are desirous to have the reputation of good, and yet the sweetness of ill ; nothing so cordially opposed by them as that truth which layeth them open to themselves, and to the eyes of others, their chief care being how to daub with the world and their own consciences. But the time will come when they shall be driven out of this fools' paradise, and the more subtle their conveyance of things hath been, the more shall be their shame. Christ, whom God hath chosen to set forth the chief glory of his excellen- cies, is now veiled in regard of his body the church, but will come ere long to be glorious in his saints, 2 Thess. i. 10, and not lose the clear manifesta- tion of any of his attributes ; and will declare to all the world what he is, when there shall be no glory but that of Christ and his spouse. Those that are as smoking flax now shall then ' shine as the sun in the firmament,' Matt. xiii. 43, and their ' righteousness break forth as the noon-day,' Ps. xxxvii. 6. The image of God in Adam had a commanding majesty in it, so that all creatures reverenced him ; much more shall the image of God in the per- fection of it command respect in all. Even now there is a secret awe put into the hearts of the greatest, towards those in whom they see any grace to shine, from whence it was that Herod feared John Baptist ; but what will this be in their day of bringing forth, which is called ' the day of the revelation of the sons of God ?' Rom. viii. 19. There will be more glorious times when ' the kingdoms of the earth shall be the Lord Jesus Christ's,' Rev. xi. 10, and he shall reign for ever ; then shall judgment and truth have its victory ; then Christ will plead his own cause; truth shall no longer be called heresy and schism, nor heresy catholic doctrine ; wickedness shall no longer go masked and disguised ; goodness shall appear in its own lustre, and shine in its own beams ; things shall be what they are, ' nothing is hidden but shall be laid open,' Matt. x. 26 ; iniquity shall not be carried in a mystery any longer ; deep dissemblers that think to hide their counsels from the Lord shall walk no longer in- visible as in the clouds. As * Christ will not quench the least spark kindled by himself, so will he damp the fairest blaze of goodly appearances which are not from above. Use. If this were believed, men would make more account of sincerity, which will only give us boldness, and not seek for covershames ; the con- fidence whereof, as it maketh men now more presumptuous, so it will ex- pose them hereafter to the greater shame. If judgment shall be brought forth to victory, then those that have been ruled by their own deceitful hearts and a spirit of error, shall be brought forth to disgrace ; that God that hath joined grace and truth with honour, hath joined sin and shame together at last ; all the wit and power of man can never be able to sever what God hath coupled. Truth and piety may be trampled upon for a time, but as the two witnesses. Rev. xi. 11, after * ' As Christ .... above/ not in A, B, but in E. AND SMOKING FLAX. 93 they were slain rose again, and stood upon their feet, so whatsoever is of God shall at length stand upon its own bottom. There shall be a resurrec- tion not only of bodies but of credits. Can we think that he that threw the angels out of heaven will suffer dust and worms' meat to run a contrary course, and to cany it away always so ? No ; as verily as Christ is ' I^ng of kings and Lord of lords,' Rev. xix. 16, so will he dash all those pieces of earth 'which rise up against him, as a potter's vessel,' Ps. ii. 9. Was there ever any fierce against God and prospered ? Job ix. 4. No ; doubt- less the rage of man shall turn to Christ's praise, Ps. Ixxvi. 10. What was said of Pharaoh shall be said of all heady enemies, who had rather lose their souls than their wills, that they are but raised up for Christ to get himself glory in their confusion. Let us, then, take heed that we follow not the ways of those men, whose ends we shall tremble at ; there is not a more fearful judgment can befal the nature of man, than to be given up to a reprobate judgment of persons and things, because it cometh under a woe ' to call ill good, and good ill,' Isa. V. 20. How will they be laden with curses another day, that abuse the judgment of others by sophistry and flatteiy, deceivers and being deceived ? 2 Tim. iii. 13. Then the complaint of our first mother Eve will be taken up but fruitlessly, Gen. xiii. 3 ; the sei-pent hath deceived me ; Satan in such and such hath deceived me ; sin hath deceived me ; a foohsh heart hath de- ceived me. It is one of the highest points of wisdom to consider upon what grounds we venture our souls. Happy men will they be, who have by Christ's light a right judgment of things, and sufier that judgment to prevail over their hearts. The soul of most men is drowned in their senses and carried away with weak opinions, raised from vulgar mistakes and shadows of things. And Satan is ready to enlarge the imagination of outward good and outward iU, and make it greater than it is, and spiritual things less, presenting them through false glasses. And so men, trusting in vanity, vanquish themselves in their own apprehensions. A woful condition, when both we and that which we highly esteem shall vanish together, which will be as tnily as Christ's judgment shall come to victory ; and in what measure the vain heart of man hath been enlarged, to conceive a greater good in things of this world than there is, by so much the soul shall be enlarged to be more sensible of misery when it sees its error. This is the difference betwixt a godly wise man and a deluded worldling ; that which the one doth now judge to be vain, the other shall hereafter feel to be so when it is too late. But this is the vanity of our natures, that though we shun above aU things to be deceived and mistaken in present things, yet in the greatest matters of all we are willingly ignorant and misled. [Chapter XXVI. — Christ alone advanceth this govemmmt.] The fifth conclusion is, that this government is set up and advanced by Christ alone ; he bringeth judgment to victory. We both fight and prevail ' in the power of his might,' Eph. vi. 10 ; we overcome by the Sphit, obtained by 'the blood of the Lamb,' Rev. xii. 11. It is he alone that ' teacheth our hands to war and fingers to fight,' Ps. cxUv. 1. Nature, as coiTupted, favours its own being, and will maintain itself against Christ's government. Nature, simply considered, cannot raise 94 THE BRUISED REED itself above itself to actions spiritual of a higher order and nature ; there- fore the divine power of Christ is necessary to carry us above all our own strength, especially in duties wherein we meet with greater opposition ; for there not only natui-e mil fail us, but ordinary grace, unless there be a stronger and a new supply. In taking up a burden that is weightier than ordinary, if there be not a greater proportion of strength than weight, the undertaker will lie under it ; so to every strong encounter there must be a new supply of strength, as in Peter, Matt. xxvi. 69, when he was assaulted with a stronger temptation, being not upheld and shored up with a mightier hand, notwithstanding former strength, foully fell. And being fallen, in our raisings up again it is Christ that must do the work, 1, By removing ; or 2, Weakening ; or 3, Suspending opposite hinderances ; 4, And by advancing the power of his grace in us, to a further degree than we had before we fell ; therefore when we are fallen, and by falls have gotten a bruise, let us go to Christ presently to bind us up again. Use. Let us know, therefore, that it is dangerous to look for that from ourselves which we must have from Christ. Since the fall, all our strength lies in him, as Samson's in his hair. Judges xvi. 17; we are but subordinate agents, moving as we are moved, and working as we are lu'st wrought upon, free so far forth as we are freed, no wiser nor stronger than he makes us to be for the present in anything we undertake.* It is his Spuit that actuates and enliveneth, and applieth that knowledge and strength we have, or else it faileth and lieth as useless in us ; we work when we work upon a present strength ; therefore dependent spirits are the wisest and the ablest. No- thing is stronger than humility, that goeth out of itself ; or weaker than pride, that resteth upon its own bottom, Frustra nititur qui non innititur ; and this should the rather be observed, because naturally we affect a kind of divinity, affectatio divinitatls, in setting upon actions in the strength of our own parts; whereas Christ saith, 'Without me you,' apostles that are in a state of grace, ' can do nothing,' John sv. 5, he doth not say you can do a little, but nothing. Of oiurselves,t how easily are we overcome ! how weak to re- sist ! we are as reeds shaken with every vsdnd ; we shake at the very noise and thought of poverty, disgrace, losses, &c., we give in presently, we have no power over our eyes, tongues, thoughts, affections, but let sin pass in and out. How soon are we overcome of evil ! whereas we should overcome evil with good. How many good purposes stick in the birth, and have no strength to come forth ! all which shews how nothing we are vdthout the Spirit of Christ. We see how weak the apostles themselves were, till they were endued with strength from above. Matt. xx\'i. 69. Peter was blasted with the speech of a damsel, but after the Spirit of Christ fell upon them, the more they suil'ered, the more they were encouraged to suffer ; their com- forts grew with their troubles ; therefore in all, especially difficult encounters, let us lift up our hearts to Christ, who hath Spirit enough for us all, in all our exigencies, and say with good Jchoshaphat, ' Lord, we know not what to do, but our eyes are towards thee,' 2 Chron. xx. 12 ; the battle we fight is thine, and the strength whei'eby we fight must be thine. If thou goest not out with us, we are sure to be foiled. Satan knows nothing can prevail against Christ, or those that rely upon his power ; therefore his study is, how to keep us in ourselves, and in the creature : but we must carry this always in our minds, that that which is begun in self-confidence will end in shame. * Sic 80 habent mortalium corda : qnse scimus, cum necesse non est, in necessitate nescimus. — Bcr[nard1 de consid. ■f ' or ourselves .... troubles,' added first in B. AND SMOKING FLAX. 95 The manner of Christ's hnnging forth judgment to victory, is by letting us see a necessity of dependence upon him ; hence proceed those spuitual de- sertions -wherein he often leaveth us to ourselves, both in regard of grace and comfort, that we may know the spring head of these to be out of our- selves. Hence it is that in the mount, that is, in extremities, God is most seen, Gen. xxii. 13. Hence it is that we are saved by the grace of faith, that carrieth us out of ourselves to rely upon another ; and that faith worketh best alone, when it hath least outward support. Hence it is, that we often fail in lesser conflicts, and stand out in greater, because in lesser we rest more in ourselves, in greater we fly to the rock of our salvation, which is higher than we, Ps. Ixi. 2. Hence likewise it is, that we are stronger after foils, because hidden corruption, undiscerned before, is now discovered, and thence we are brought to make use of mercy pardoning, and power sup- porting. One main ground of this dispensation is, that we should know it is Christ that giveth both the -n-ill and the deed, and that as a voluntarv work* according to his owti good pleasure. And therefore we should ' work out our salvation in a jealous fear and trembling,' Phil. ii. 12, lest by imreverent and presumptuous walking, we give him cause to suspend his gracious influence, and to leave us to the darkness of our own heart. Those that are under Christ's government have the spirit of revelation, whereby they see and feel a di\ane power sweetly and strongly enabling them for to preserve faith, when they feel the contrary, and hoj)e in a state hopeless, and love to God under signs of his displeasm-e, and heavenlj^- mindedness in the midst of worldly afi'airs and allm-ements, drawing a contrary way. They feel a power preserving patience, nay, joy in the midst of causes of mourning, inward peace in the midst of assaults. "Whence ■\ is it that, when we are assaulted with temptation, and when compassed with troubles, we have stood out, but from a secret strength upholding us ? To make so little grace so victorious over so great a mass of corruption, this requu-eth a spirit more than human ; this is as to preserve fire in the sea, and a part of heaven even as it were in hell. Here we know where to have this power, and to whom to return the praise of it. And it is our happiness, that it is so safely hid in Christ for us, In one so near unto God and us. Since the fall, God will not trust us with our ov/n salvation, but it is both purchased and kept by Christ for us, and wo for it through faith, wrought by the power of God, and laying hold of the same : which power is gloriously set forth by St Paul, 1, To be a gi-eat power ; 2, An exceeding power; 3, A working and a mighty power; 4, Such a power as was wrought in raising Christ from the dead, Eph. i. 19. That gi'ace which is but a persuasive ofier, and in our pleasure to receive or refuse, is not that grace which brings us to heaven ; but God's people feel a powerful work of the Spmt, not only revealing unto us our misery, and dehverance through Christ, but emptying us of ourselves as being redeemed from ourselves, and infusing new life into us, and after strengthening us, and quickening of us when we droop and hang the wing, and never leaving us tin perfect conquest. [Chapter XXVII. — Victory 7wt to he had without fighting.'] The sixth conclusion is, that this prevailing government shall not be without fighting. There can be no victory where there is no combat. In * ' Worker,' in A and B. f ' Whence . . . us,' added in B. 96 THE BRUISED EEED Isaiah it is said, * He shall bring judgment in truth,' Is. xlii. 3 ; here it is said, he shall send forth judgment unto victory. The word ' send forth ' hath a stronger sense in the original (h), to send forth with force ; to shew, that where his government is in truth, it will be opposed, until he getteth the upper hand. Nothing is so opposed as Christ and his govern- ment, both within us and without us. And within us most in our con- version, though corruption prevails not so far as to make void the powerful work of gi'ace, yet there is not only a possibility of opposing, but a prone- ness to oppose, and not only a proneness, but an actual withstanding the working of Christ's Spirit, and that in every action, but yet no prevailing resistance so far as to make void the work of grace, but corruption in the issue jdelds to grace. There is much ado to bring Christ into the heart, and to set a tribunal for him to judge there ; there is an army of lusts [in] mutiny against him. The utmost strength of most men's endeavours and parts is to keep Christ from ruling in the soul ; the flesh still laboureth to maintain its own regency, and therefore it cries down the credit of whatsoever crosseth it, as God's blessed ordinances, &c., and highly prizeth anything, though never so dead and empty, if it give way to the liberty of the flesh. And no marvel if the spiritual government of Christ be so opposed : 1. Because it is government, and that limits the course of the will, and casteth a bridle upon its wanderings ; everything natural resists what opposeth it ; so corrupt wiU labours to bear down all laws, and counteth it a generous thing not to be awed, and an argument of a low spirit to fear any, even God himself, until unavoidable danger seizeth on men, and then those that feared least out of danger fear most in danger, as we see in Belshazzar, Dan. v. 6. 2. It is spiritual government, and therefore the less will flesh endure it. Christ's government bringeth the very thoughts and desires, which are the most immediate and free issue of the soul, into obedience. Though a man were of so composed a carriage, that his whole life were free from outward offensive breaches, yet with Christ to be ' carnally or worldly-minded is death,' Eom. viii. 6 : he looketh on a worldly mind with a greater detesta- tion than any one particular ofience.* But Christ's Spirit is in those who are in some degree earthly-minded. Truth it is, but not as an allower and maintainer, but as an opposer, pubduer, and in the end as a conqueror. Carnal men would fain bring Christ and the flesh together, and could be content wiih. some reservation to submit to Christ ; but Christ will be no underling to any base affection ; and therefore, where there is allowance of om'selves in any sinful lust, it is a sign the keys were never given up to Christ to rule us. 3. Again,! this judgment is opposed, because it is judgment, and meii love not to bo judged and censured. Now Christ, in his truth, arraigneth them, giveth sentence against them, and bindeth them over to the latter judgment of the great day. And therefore they take upon them to judge that truth that must judge them ; but truth will be too good for them. Man hath a day now, which St Paul calls 'man's day,' 1 Cor. iv. 33, wherein he getteth upon his bench, and usurpcth a judgment over Christ and his ways ; but God hath a day wherein ho will set all straight, and his judg- ment shall stand. And the saints shall have their time, when they shall * Gravius est peccatum diligere quam perpetrare, &c. — Grefflori/I. Moral., lib. XXV. cap. 11. t ' Again .... opposed,' added in B. AND SMOKING FLAX. 97 sit in judgment upon them that judge them now, 1 Cor. vi. 2, In the mean time, Christ will rule in the midst of his enemies, Ps. ex. 3, even in the midst of our hearts. Use. It is therefore no sign of a good condition to find all quiet, and nothing at odds ; for can we think that corruption, which is the elder in us, and Satan, the strong man that keepeth many holds in us, will yield possession quietly ? No ; there is not so much as a thought of goodness discovered by him, but he joineth with corruption to Idll it in the birth. And as Pharaoh's cruelty was especially against the male children, so Satan's mahce is especially against the most rehgious and manly resolutions. This, then, we are always to expect, that wheresoever Christ cometh, there will be opposition. When Christ was born, all Jerusalem was troubled ; so when Christ is born in any man, the soul is in an uproar, and all because the heart is unwilling to yield up itself to Chiist to rule it. Wheresoever Christ cometh he breedeth division, not only, 1, between man and himself; but, 2, between man and man ; and 3, between church and church : of which distm'bance Chi'ist is no more the cause than physic is of trouble in a distempered body, of which noisome humours are the proper cause ; for the end of physic is the peace of humom-s. But Christ thinketh it fit that the thoughts of men's hearts should be discovered, and he is as well for the falling as the rising of many in Israel, Luke ii. 34. Thus the desperate madness of men is laid open, that they had rather be under the guidance of their own lusts, and by consequence of Satan himself, to their endless destruction, than put their feet into Christ's fetters, and their necks under his yoke ; whereas, indeed, Christ's service is the only true hberty. His yoke is an easy yoke, his burden but as the bm-den of wings to a bird, that maketh her fly the higher. Satan's government is rather a bondage than a government, unto which Christ giveth up those that shake 05" his own, for then he giveth Satan and his factors power over them, since they will not ' receive the truth in love,' 2 Thess. ii. 20 : take him, Jesuit, take him, Satan, blind him and bind him and lead him to perdition. Those that take the most liberty to sin are the most perfect slaves, because most voluntary slaves. The will in everything is either the best or the worst ; the farther men go on in a wilful course, the deeper they sink in rebellion; and the more they cross Christ, doing what they will, the more they shall one day sufler what they would not. In the mean time, they are prisoners in their ovm souls, bound over in their consciences to the judgment of him after death, whose judgment they would none of in their lives. And is it not equal that they should feel him a severe judge to con- demn them, whom they would not have a nuld judge to rule them ? [Chapter XXVIII. — Be encouraged to go on cheerfully, with confidence of jirevailing.] For conclusion and general application of all that hath been spoken, unto ourselves. We see the conflicting, but yet sm-e and hopeful state of God's people. The victoiy heth not upon us, but upon Christ, who hath taken upon him, as to conquer for us, so to conquer in us. The \ictory lieth neither in om* own strength to get, nor in om* enemies to defeat it. If it lay upon us, we might justly fear. But Christ vnll maintain his own government in us, and take om- part against om' coiTuptions ; they are his enemies as well as om-s. * Let us therefore be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might,' Eph. ^i. 10, Let us not look so much who are our VOL. I. G yB' THE BRUISED EEED enemies, as who is our judge and captain, nor what they threaten, but what he promiseth. We have more for us than against us. What coward would not fight when he is sure of victory ? None are here overcome, but he that will not fight. Therefore, when any base fainting seizeth upon us, let us lay the blame where it is to be laid. Discouragement* rising from unbehef and ill report, brought upon the good land by the spies, moved God to swear in his wrath, that they should not enter into his rest. Let us take heed a spirit of faint-heartedness, rising from seeming difiiculty and disgrace, cast upon God's good ways, provoke not God to keep us out of heaven. We see here what we may look for from heaven. beloved, it is a comfortable thing to conceive of Christ aright, to know what love, mercy, strength we have laid up for us iu the breast of Christ. A good conceit of the physician, we say, is half the cure ; letf us make use of this his mercy and power every day, in our daily combats. Lord Jesus, thou hast promised not to quench the smokiog flax, not to break the bruised reed ; cherish thine own grace in me, leave me not to myself, the glory shall be thine. Let us not suffer Satan to transform Christ irnto us, to be otherwise than he is to those that are his. Christ wiU not leave us, till he hath made us like himself, ' all glorious within and without, and presented us blameless before his Father,' Jude 24. What a comfort is this in our conflicts with our um-uly hearts, that it shall not always be thus ! Let us strive a little while, and we shall be happy for ever. Let us think when we are troubled with our sins, that Christ hath this in charge of his Father, ' that he shall not quench the smoking flax,' until he hath subdued all. This putteth a shield into our hands to beat back aU ' the fiery darts of Satan,' Eph. vi. 16. He will object, (1.) thou art a great sinner; we may answer, Christ is a strong Saviom* ; but he will object, (2.) thou hast no faith, no love ; yes, a spark of faith and love ; but (3.) Chi-ist will not regard that; yes, 'he will not quench the smoking flax;' but (4.) this is so little and weak, that it wUl vanish and come to nought : nay, but Christ will cherish it, until he hath brought judgment to victoiy. And thus much for om* comfort we have already, that even when we first believed, we overcame God himself, as it were, by believing the pardon of aU our sins ; notwithstanding the guilt of our own consciences, and his absolute justice. Now having been prevailers with God, what shall stand against us if we can learn to make use of our faith ? what a confusion is this to Satan, that he should labour to blow out a poor spark, and yet should not be able to quench it; that a grain of mustard seed should be stronger than the gates of hell ; that it should be able to re- move mountains of oppositions and temptations cast up by Satan and our rebellious hearts between God and us. Abimelech could not endure that it should be said, ' a woman had slain him,' Jud. ix. 64 ; and it must needs be a torment to Satan, that a weak child, a woman, and decrepit old man should, by a spirit of faith, put him to flight. Since there is such comfort where there is a little truth of grace, that it wiU be so victorious, let us oft try what God hath wrought in us, search our good as well as our ill, and be thankful to God for the least measure of grace, more than for any outward thing ; it will be of more use and comfort than all this world, which passeth away and cometh to nothing. Yea, let us be thankful for that promised and assured victory, which we may rely on with- out presumption, as St Paul doth ; ' thanks be to God, that hath given us • ' Discouragement .... heaven,' added in B. f 'Let . . . thine,' a transposition of A and B here. AND SMOKING FLAX. 99" victoiy in Jesus Clirist,' 1 Cor. xv. 57. See a flame in a spark, a tree in a seed ; see gi'cat tilings in little beginnings ; look not so much to the be- ginning, as to the perfection, and so we shall be in some degi'ee joyful in ourselves, and thankful unto Christ. Neither* must we reason from a denial of a great measure of grace, to a denial of any at all in us ; for faith and gi-ace stand not in an indivisible point, so as he that hath not such and such a measm-e hath none at all ; but as there is a great breadth between a spark and a flame, so there is a great wideness between the least measure of grace and the greatest ; and he that hath the least measure, is within the compass of God's eternal favour ; though he be not a shining light, yet he is a smoking ■s\-ick, which Clnist's tender care will not suffer him to quench. And let all this that hath been spoken allure those that are not yet in state of grace, to come under Christ's sweet and victorious government, for though we shall have much opposition, yet if we strive, he will help us ; if we fail, he will cherish us ; if we be guided by him, we shall overcome ; if we overcome, we are sure to be crowned. Aid for the present state of the chm-ch, we see now how forlorn it is, yet let us comfort ourselves, that Christ's cause shall prevail; ' Christ will rule, till he hath made his enemies his footstool,' Ps. ex. 1, not only to trample upon, but to help him up to mount higher in glory. ' Babylon shall fall, for strong is the Lord who hath condemned her,' Eev. xviii. 8. Chiist's judgment not only in his children, but also against his enemies, shall be victorious, for he is ' King of kings and Lord of lords,' Rev. xix. 1. God will not alwaysf sufier antichi'ist and his supports to revel and rufile in the chm'ch as they do. If we look to the present state of the chm-ch of Christ, it is as Daniel in the midst of lions, as a lily amongst thorns, as a ship not only tossed, but almost covered with waves. It is so low, that the enemies think they have buried Christ, in regard of his gospel, in the grave, and there they thinlv to keep him from rising; but Christ as he rose in his person, so he will roll away all stones, and rise again in his church. How Uttle support hath the church and cause of Chi'ist at this day ! how strong a conspiracy is against it ! the spirit of antichi-ist is now lifted up, and marcheth furiously ; things seem to hang on a small and invisible thread. But our comfort is, that Christ liveth and reigneth and standeth on Mount Sion in defence of them that stand for him, Rev. xiv. 1 ; and when States and kingdoms shall dash one against another, Christ will have care of his own children and cause, seeing there is nothing else in the world that he much esteemeth. At this very time the deliveiy of his chm-ch, and the ruin of his enemies, is in work- ing ; we see no things in motion till Christ hath done his work, and then we shall see that the Lord reigneth. Christ and his chm-ch, when they are at the lowest, are nearest rising : his enemies at the highest are nearest a downfall. The Jews are not yet come in under Christ's banner ; but God, that hath persuaded Japhet to come into the tents of Shem, wnll persuade Shem to come into the tents of Japhet, Gen. ix. 27. The * fulness of the Gentiles is not yet come in,' Rom. xi. 25, but Christ, that hath the * utmost parts of the earth given him for his possession,' Ps. ii. 8, will gather all the sheep his Father hath given him into one fold, that there may be one sheepfold and one shepherd, John x. 16. The faithful Jews rejoiced to think of the calling of the Gentiles ; and why should not we joy to think of the calling of the Jews ? • * Neither . . . quench,' not in A, B, but in E. f ' God will not,' &c., added in B. 100 THE BRUISED REED The gospel's course liath hitherto been as that of the sun, from east to west, and so in God's time may proceed yet fuither west (i). No creature can hinder the course of the sun, nor stop the influence of heaven, nor hinder the blowing of the wind, much less hinder the prevailing power of divine truth, until Christ hath brought all under one head, and then he will present all to his Father ; these are they thou hast given unto me ; these are they that have taken me for their Lord and King, that have suffered with me ; my wiU is that they be where I am, and reign with me. And then he will deliver up the kingdom even to his Father, and put down all other rule, and authority, and power, 1 Cor. xv. 24. Let us then bring our hearts to holy resolutions, and set ourselves upon that which is good, and against that which is ill, in ourselves or others, ac- cording to our callings, upon this encouragement, that Christ's grace and power shall go along with us. What had become of that great work o^' reformation of religion in the latter-spring of the gospel, if men had not been armed with invincible courage to outstride all lets, upon this faith, that the cause was Christ's, and that he would not be wanting to his own cause. Luther ingenuously confessed, that he carried matters often inconsiderately, and with mixture of passion ; but upon acknowledgment, God took not advantage of his errors, but the cause being God's, and his aims being hol}^, to promote the truth, and being a mighty man in prayer, and strong m faith, God by him kindled that fire which all the world shall never be able to quench. According to our faith, so is our encouragement to all duties, therefore let us strengthen faith, that it may strengthen all other graces. This very belief, that faith shall be victorious, is a means to make it so indeed. Believe it, therefore, that though it be often as smok- ing flax, yet it shall prevail. If it prevail with God himself in trials, shall it not prevail over all other opposition ? ' Let us wait a while, and we shall see the salvation of the Lord,' Exod. iv. 13. The Lord reveal himself more and more unto us in the face of his Son Jesus Christ, and magnify the power of his grace in cherishing those be- ginnings of gi-ace in the midst of our corruptions, and sanctify the conside- ration of our own infirmities to humble us, and of his tender mercy to encourage us ; and persuade us, that since he hath taken us into the covenant of grace, he will not cast us off" for those corruptions ; which as they grieve his Spirit, so they make us vile in om- own eyes. And because Satan labours to obscure the glory of his mercy, and hinder our comfort by discouragements, the Lord add this to the rest of his mercies, that, since he is so gracious to those that yield to his government, we may make the right use of this grace, and not lose any portion of comfort that is laid up for us in Christ. And [may] he vouchsafe to let the prevailing power of his Spirit hi us be an evidence of the truth of grace begun, and a pledge of final victory, at that time when he will be all in all, in all his, for aU eternity. Amen. Finis.* * Added hero to G is the following couplet : — Quassala (Lector) quid arundiuo viliua, aut to ? A t 11011 frangeris, si pius, Unctus ait — G. J. It may bo thus rendered : Thau shaken rood what can mnro worthless 'he? Reader, just such tluui art : But Jiast tliou faith ? Tlion take good heart; The Anointed saitli, Nor it nor tliou by liim sliall broken be. The initials aro probably those of John Goodwin reverspd. G. AND SMOKING FLAX. 101 NOTES. (a) P. 49. — ' Stooped so far ... . as to suffer him to tlirust his hand into his side.' It is questionable if Thomas really did this. His early faith recovered itself in pre- sence of the Lord, and the narrative seems rather to indicate that he did not avail himself of the tenderly-forgiving offer of his Master. See Archbishop Whately's lecture on the apostle Thomas in his Lectures on the Apostles, (2d ed. 1853). (b) P. 53. — ' Strain not things too high, making those general and necessary evi- dences of grace which agree not,' &c. This characteristically gentle warning reminds us of an anecdote of the excellent Ebenezer Erskine, one of the founders of what is now the United Presbyterian Church. He had been delivering a course of sermons on ^ Marks of Grace,' and had spent much time in shewing how many things men might possess and nevertheless be ' hypocrites.' Chancing some time after to be on a visit to a very saintly but lowly ' aged ' believer, who was apparently dying, the good man was startled by an exclamation, ' Oh ! Mr Erskine, if I were just as good as one of your hypocrites, I would be happy.' The words struck home, and Erskine was wont to tell it, and to add that the remark opened his eyes to the danger by over-high ' marks ' of causing God's own dearest children to ' write bitter things against them- selves ' without cause. This anecdote, related by one whose grandfather attended Mr Erskine at Stirling, strikingly enforces Sibbes's counsel. (c) P. 55 ' Kill a fly on the forehead with a beetle.' ' Beetle ' = mallet. In the margin opposite the passage in A, B, and E, is ' As Parisien.' Query, Peter Lombard ? (d) P. 67. — ' Let ' [= hinder]. Few words present such a curious example of uttei reversal of meaning as this. Formerly to let was to ' hinder,' now it means to 'permit.' It occurs in the former sense both in 0. T. and N. T., e. g., Isa. xliii. 13, and Eom. i. 13 ; 2 Thess. ii. 7. It is here referred to once for all. (e) P. 68. — ' Catch ' = on the watch. This supplies Eichardson's lack (in his great Dictionary), of an example of ' catch' in the meaning here. (f) P. 85. — ' Voyage ' = a travel, a journey ; but now limited to travel by sea. Milton uses it repeatedly in the earlier sense. See P. L., ii,, 426, 919 ; vii. 431. P. R. i., 103. (g) P. 86. — ' Sobs.' To ' sob ' means to ' sop ' or ' soak,' and ' sobs,' as applied to kindled ' greenwood,' is vividly descriptive. (h) P. 96. — ' Send forth hath a stronger sense in the original.' Consult and compare Dr J. A. Alexander on the passage in his commentary on Isaiah (ed. by Eadie, 1848). (i) P. 100. — ' The gospel's course hath hitherto been as that of the sun, from east to west, and so in God's time may proceed further west.' This remarkable an- ticipation may be placed side by side with the better known but much later, and admittedly grander, vaticination of Berkeley : — ' Weshvard the course of empire takes its way ; The four first acts already past, A fifth shall close the drama with the day ; Time's noblest oftspring is the last. The ' Priest ' of Bemerton, George Herbert, may have had his equally memorable couplet suggested by Sibbes's words, the 'Bruised lieed ' having preceded 'The Temple ' by three years : — ' Religion stands a-tiptoe in our land, Eeady to pass to the American strand.' Church Millilant. Sibbes and his Puritan contemporaries turned with wistful eye to ' JVeiv England,* and read in the light of the present position of America among the nations of the earth, it is curious to note the mingled hope and dread with wliioh tlie mighty un- known continent was regarded. John Cotton, John Davenport, Thomas Hooker, and many other of Sibbes's personal friends, became fugitives thitlicr. For various curious memorabilia on the subject of this note (Sibbes's being an addition thereto), consult Mayor's Nicholas Ferrar, pp. 52-3. G. THE SWORD OF THE WICKED. THE SWORD OF THE WICKED. NOTE. The title-page, a copy of which is given below [*], will, as in the case of ' The Description of Christ,' in its relation to ' The Bruised Reed,' explain the position of ' The Sword of the Wicked ' in the present publication. It wilJ be observed that it consists of the leading, i.e., introductory sermons to that treatise, called ' The Soules Coniiict.' As such, it falls to bo associated therewith. The ' Sword of the "Wicked ' forms a small portion of one of the posthumously-published quartos of Sibbes, entitled ' Evangelicall Sacrifices ' [1640]. It labours under the same disadvantage with the ' Description,' as compared with its companion treatise, the ' Soul's Con- flict,' being even more unfinished; but abounds with pungent and vigorous writing. G. [*] Title-page— The SWORD of THE WICKED. In two Sermons. Being the leading Sermons to that Treatise called The Soules Conflict. By The late Learned and Reverend Divine, Rich. Sibbs : Doctor in Divinity, Mr of Katherine Hall in Cambridge, and sometimes Preacher to the Honourable Society of Grayes-Inne. Psal. 57. 4. Their Tongue is a sharpe Sword. London, Printed by E. P. for N. B. and R. H. 1639. 4to. THE SWORD OF THE WICKED. As ivitJi a sword in my hones, mine enemies reproach me ; while they say unto me daily, Where is thy God ? — Psalm XLII. 10. The Psalms are, as it were, the anatomy of a holy man ; they lay the inside of a true devout man outward, even to the view of others. If the Scriptures be compared to a body, the Psalms may well be the heart, they are so full of sweet and holy afiections and passions. In other portions of Scripture, God speaks to us; in the Psalms, holy men (especially David, who was the penman of most of them), speak to God, whei-ein we have the passages of a broken, humble soul to God. Among the rest, in this Psalm David lays open variety of passions. His condition at this time was such, as that he was an exiled man, from his own house and his own friends, and which grieved him worst of all, from the tabernacle, the house of God. It was upon the occasion of Saul's persecution, or of Absalom's, his son ; but I take it rather of Saul's^ that hunted him as a partridge in the wilderness. Hereupon you have a discovery, how this holy man of God stood affected with this case and condition of his. First he lays open his grief. His grief ariseth from his desire. He that loves most and desireth most, he always grieves most ; and all other affections have their scantling (a) from love, which is the firstborn affection of the soul. Therefore, before he lays out his grief, he sets out his desire to the house of God, the want whereof giieved him most of all. ' As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, God,' ver. 1. As the chased hart panteth after water,' so the soul thirsteth for God, for the \\vmg God, ' O when shall I come and appear before God ?' ver. 2.* Then after his desire, he lays forth his grief, ' My tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually say unto me. Where is thy God ?' ver. 3. Grievances never come alone, but as Job's messengers, they come one after another, even to God's children. When he is disposed to correct them, they are multiplied. Therefore, here is not only a grief of want, that he was debarred of those sweet comforts which he had before in the taber- nacle, but here is likemse a grief from the reproach of his enemies, that took occasion from his disconsolate estate to upbraid him, ' Where is thy * This opening paragraph is very nearly identical with the commencement of the ' Soul's Conflict.'— G. 106 THE SWOED OF THE WICKED. God ?' ' My tears have been my meat day and night, while they conti- nually say unto me, Where is thy God ?' He dissolves the cloud of his grief into the shower of tears, ' My tears have been my meat.' They were so plentiful that they did feed his soul as it were. Then he sets do'wn another groimd of his grief, from the remembrance of his former happiness ; as usually, that doth make the grief raw and more sensible, iorfelix miser, maxime miser, he that hath been happy in former time and now is miserable, is most miserable of all, because his former happiness makes him most sensible. Therefore, of all men in hell, the torment of great men is most, because they had most sense of comfort in this world ; mighty men shall be mightily tormented, that is all the pri- vilege they shall have in hell. Therefore, to aggravate his gi'ief, 0, saith he, when I remember what comfort I had formerly in the house of God, I pour out my soul. It was not enough that he poured out his tears, or words, but I pour out my soul, for in former times, ' I went with the mul- titude to the house of God,' ver, 4, and led a goodly train to the house of God, the pictm-e of a good magistrate, and a good master of a family ; he goes not alone to the house of God, but he leads his train, he is attended on by his servants. David went not alone into the house of God, but with the multitude, ' with the voice of them that kept hohday,' ver. 4. Well, he had grief enough, his heart was full of grief. Now in the next verse he takes up his soul, and expostulates with himself, ' "Why art thou so sad, my soul ? and why art thou disquieted in me ? hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance,' ver. 5. So you see here, he is not so flat in his grief that he gives over-long way to it, but he even falls a chiding of his soul, ' Why art thou cast do^vn, my soul ? why art thou disquieted within me ?' ! but yet grief will not be so stilled ! affliction is not quelled at the first, nor grief stilled and stayed at the first. Therefore it gathers upon him again in the next verse, ' my God, my soul is cast down within me, when I remember thee from the land of Jordan, and of the Heiinonites, from the hill Mizar.' When I remember thee from these places, my soul is cast down again, and my afflictions are multiplied ; though he had fallen out with his soul before, for his impatience. ' One deep eaUs to another,' deep calls upon deep, ' as the noise of the water- spouts,' ver. 7. He compares affliction to water- spouts, as it is in Scripture. ' All thy waves and billows have gone over me,' ver. 7. Even as one deep calls to another, so one affliction calls to another. Then when he had given a httle way again to his grief, and complained to God, he takes up his soul another time ; yet, saith he, * The Lord will command his lovingkindness in the day time, and in the night his song shall be with me, and I will pray to the God of my life,' ver. 8. He presents to himself the goodness of God, to comfort his soul. And he presents to him in the next verse his own resolution, ' I will say to God (for the time to come) my rock, why hast thou forgotten me ? and why go I mom-ning, for the oppression of the enemy,' ver. 9. So here he stays his soul once again ; he presents to his Boul the lovingkindness of God, with renewing his resolution to seek God : an efiectual way to stay the soul, by considering God's love and mercy, and by renewing our resolutions and purposes to cleave to God, ' I will say to God my rock, why hast thou forgotten me ?' Aye, but here is a third assault of grief again, for there is a spring of corruption in us, and such a principle in us as will yield murmuriiigs and discontent again and again ; therefore in the verse I have read to j'ou, he comes again to complain, ' As with a sword in my bones, mine enemies THE SWORD OF THE WICKED. 107 reproach me ; wliile they say unto me daily, Where is thy God ?' vcr. 10. He had complained once of this before, but it had a fresh working with his thoughts again, ' As with a sword in my bones,' &c. Hereupon, he is forced the tlurd time to expostulate, and to fall out with his soul, ' Why art thou cast down, my soul ? and why art thou disquieted ? hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God,' ver. 11. He comes to his former remedy, he had stilled his grief once before with the same meditation and upbraiding of his own soul, and chiding himself ; but he comes to it here as a probation est, as a tried remedy, he takes up his soul very short, ' Why art thou so cast down, my soul ? why art thou disquieted within me ?' You see how David's passions here are interlaced with comforts, and his comforts with passions, till at last he gets the victory of his own heart. Beloved, neither sin, nor gi'ief for sin, are stilled and quieted at the first. You have some short- spirited Christians, if all be not quiet at the first, all is lost with them ; but it is not so with a true Christian soul, with the best soul living. It was not so with David : when he was in distemper, he checks himself ; the dis- temper was not yet stilled, he checks himself again ; then the distemper breaks out again, then he checks himself again ; and all little enough to bring his soul to a holy, blessed, quiet temper, to that blessed tranquillity and rest that the soul should be in, before it can enjoy its own happiness, and enjoy sweet commimion with God. As you see in physic, perhaps one purge will not carry away the peccant humour, then a second must be added ; perhaps that will not do it, then there must be a third ; so when the soul hath been once checked, perhaps it will not do, we must fall to it again, go to God again. And then it may be there will be breaking out of the grief and malady again ; we must to it again, and never give over ; that is the right temper of a Christian. Before I come to the words, observe in general this, that a livinri soul, the soul that is alive in, grace, that hath the life of grace quickening it, is most sensible of all, in the want of spiritual means. As here, the grief of griefs was (which he begins with), that he was banished from the tabernacle. What shall we think therefore of those that excommimicate themselves from God's assembly, where there is the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, all the Trinity dispensing their bounty, and where the prayers of God's people meet together in one as it were, and bind God ? What shall we think of them that prefer their private devotions, as they say, before God's assem- blies ? Sm'ely they ai'e not of David's mind ; and it is a shrewd argument, that they never had the life of grace in them yet : for where life is, there will be himger and thii'st. Acrius urgent qucB ad naturam. It is a true aphorism, those things press upon natm'e hardest that touch upon the neces- sities of natm-e, rather than those that touch upon delight. We can want de- lights, but necessities of natm-e we cannot ; therefore hunger and thhst, they are such passions as will not be quiet. Delicacies and novelties the soul of a hungiy man can be content to want, but not spiritual food for the soul. We see how famine wrought upon the patriarchs, it made them go down into Egj-pt for food. I note it only by the wa}', that men may know how to judge of themselves, when they can very well be content, without a blessed supply of holy means. Holy David, when the means was but dark and obscure, when the canon was not enlarged, when all was in types and clouds, yet he felt that comfort in the tabernacle and in the ordinances of God, that he could not endm-e the want of them ; but as the hart brayeth after the water- brooks, so his soul panted after God. But to come to the words themselves, 108 THE SWOED OF THE WICKED. * As with a sword in my bones, mine enemies reproach me, when they say unto me daily, where is thy God ?' Here are two things considerable in the words. The carriage and disposition and eocpression of others to David. And David's affection towards it, how he was disposed towards if, how he did bear it. For their disposition, they were enemies, mijie enemies, dc. The expression of it, thei/ reproach me. The specialty of that expression, how they reproached him, they said unto him, ' Where is thy God V They do reproach him in his religion. The aggravation of that specialty is, they say, openly to his face, they go not beiaind my back, they esteem so slightly of me, they say it to my face. And continually too, they are never weary, they say daily. Where is thy God ? They are enemies, they reproach, they reproach in this, * Where is thy God ?' and they do it impudently, and daily. ITow doth David entertain this usage ? how doth he carry himself all this while ? He must needs be sensible of it, and therefore he expresseth it in most significant words. Oh, saith he, these things were as a sword in my hones. There be diverse readings of the words ; but we will take them as they are laid down, being very well, as with a sword in my hones (or as it is in the margin, (h) as killing in my hones), mine enemies reproach me. It was as killing to him, it did go to his heart, it cut him to the quick. As a sword is to the body and bones, so are their words to my soul, I cannot endm'e it, it is death to me. It is a most emphatical manner of expressing the enemies' disposition and carriage. Thus you have the words unfolded. I will but touch some particulars ; those that I think most needful for us to take notice of, I will dwell more upon. Mine enemies, saith he, reproach me. Mine enemies. There hath been contrary seeds from the beginning of the world, and will be while Satan is in the world. Till he be cast into the ' burning lake,' and be there in perpetual chains adjudged to torment, he will raise up men alway that shall be of his side. And as long as that grand enemy is, and as long as men are that MdU be subject to his government, as alway there will be, he will have a great faction in the world. And by reason that he hath a party in us, the flesh, he will have the gi'eatest party in the world. The most go the broad way, so that God's children, even David himself, sliall not want enemies. Mine enemies. It is strange that he should have enemies, that was so harmless a man, tliat when they were sick and distressed, he praj^ed for them, and put on sackcloth for them, as it is Ps. xh. This compassionate, sweet-naturcd man, yet notwithstanding you see he had enemies, and enemies that would discover themselves to reproach him, and that bitterly ; in the bitterest manner, they reproach him in liis religion. It is a large point, if I should give myself hberty in it. I do but touch it, that we may be armed bj^ tliis observation, against the scandal of opposition, that if we meet with enemies in the world, we should not be much oifended at it ; grieve we may, but wonder we need not. Was there ever any that did more good than our Saviour Christ ? * He went about doing good,' Acts x. 38. He did never a miracle that was harmful (but only of the swine that were drowned in the sea, and that was their own fault), but he went about doing all the good he could ; yet, notwithstanding, we see what malicious opposites he had. That that is true of the head must be true in the mem- bers. Therefore, we should rejoice in our conformity to Christ, if it be in a good cause, that wo find enemies and opposition. O imperator^ THE SWOED OF THE WICKED. 109 dc, saitii he, the emperor is become a Christian. It was a blessed time. Oh ! but the devil is not made a Christian yet, and he will never be made good : for he is in termino, as we say, he is in his bounds, his nature is immoveable ; he is in hell in regard of his estate, though he be loose to do mischief. Now, until the devil be good, God's children shall never want enemies ; and he will never be good. Therefore, though there were good kings and good governors over all the world, yet good men shall never want enemies as long as the devil is alive, as long as he hath any thing to do in the world. Enemies therefore w^e must look for, and such enemies as wdl not conceal their malice neither : for that were something if they would suffer then- malice to boil and concoct m their own hearts, but that will not be, but ' out of the abundance of the heart the mouth will speak.' Where there is a bad treasuiy, there will be a bad vent ; -;■• therefore we see here, they reproach him, ' mine enemies.' Reproach me. It is the proper expression of malice, reproach ; and it is that that the nature of man can least endm-e of all. The nature of man can endure an outward wrong, a loss or a cross, but a reproach, especially if it be a scornful reproach, the natm-e of man is most impatient of. For there is no man, but he thinks himself worthy of some respect. Now a reproach- ful scorn shews a disrespect, and when the nature of man sees itself disre- spected, it grows to terms of impatience. There is not the meanest man hving but he thinks himself worthy of some regard. Therefore I cannot blame David, even out of the piinciple of nature, to be affected here when they reproached him, and gave him vile terms, ' mine enemies reproach me.' Their tongues were tipt from hell, and they did but utter that that was in their hearts. If the tongues of wicked men, as St James saith, be a world of mischief, what is the whole man ? what is the heart, and tongue, and life, and all of wicked men ? Now this reproach of wicked men, it is a grievous persecution, as Ishmael persecuted Isaac in that manner, as it is. Gal. iv., taken out of the story in Genesis. I will not enter into the commonplace of reproach ; it is taken by the by here. Only by the way, let it be a support to us. If we be reproachfully used in the world, let us not be much cast down. It is no credit for a man to do that that the devil and his instruments do ; nor it is no discredit for us to suffer that that David suffered. Let this satisfy thee, there is not the vilest man living but hath this weapon to serve the devil with, a reproachful tongue. He that sits upon the ale bench, that rakes in the channel,! the basest wretch in the world, hath a tongue to serve the devil with in re- proaches. It is no credit for them to do that that the vilest person in the world can do ; and it is no shame for thee to suffer that that the best man that ever lived did suffer. So much for that, mine enemies reproach vie. But what is the specialty of this reproach ? To come to that more particularly. They say unto me, Where is thy God ? They touch him in his religion. They saw him persecuted by Saul, scorned by Saul's courtiers ; they see him driven up and down, as a partridge in the wilderness ; they saw him banished from the sanctuaiy, destitute of friends ; they saw him in this disconsolate estate, and they judge by sense and appearance, that they thought he was a man that God regarded not at all : therefore say they. Where is thy God ? God's childi-en are impatient, as far as they are men, of reproaches ; but so far as they are Cln-istian men, they are impatient of reproaches in rcU- * That is, ' out-goiug.' — Ed. t That is, ' the kennel' or sewer. — Ed. 110 THE SWORD OF THE "WICKED. gion : Where is now thy God ? They were not sucli desperate atheists as to think there was no God, to call in question whether there were a God or no, though indeed they were little better ; but they rather reproach and up- braid him with his singularity, Where is thy God ? You are one of God's darlings ; you are one that thought nobody served God but you ; you are one that will go alone — your God. So this is an ordinary reproach, an ordinary part for wicked men, to cast at the best people, especially when they are in misery. What is become of your profession now ? What is become of your forwardness and strictness now ? What is become of your much reading and hearing now ; and your doing such things now ? ^Vhat is become of your God that you bragged so of, and thought yourselves so happy in, as if he had been nobody's God but yours ? We may learn hence the disposition of wicked men. It is a character of a poisonful, cursed disposition to upbraid a man with his religion. But what is the scope ? The scope is worse than the words, Where is thy God '? The scope is to shake his faith, and his confidence in God ; and this is that that touched him so nearlywhile they upbraided ]i\m.,Whereistliy God ? Indeed, they had some probability and show of truth ; for now God seemed opposite to him, when he was banished from his house, from that blessed communion with him that he had. Their purpose was therefore to shake his faith and affiance in God ; and herein they shewed themselves right, the children of the devil, whose scope is to shake the faith and affiance of God's people, in all his temptations, and by his instruments. For the devil knows well enough, that as long as God and the soul join together, it is in vain to trouble any man ; therefore he labom-s to put jealousies, to accuse God to man, and man to God. He knows there is nothing in the world can stand against God. As long as we make God our confidence, aU his enterprises are in vain. His scope is therefore to shake oui* affiance in God : Where is thy God ? So he dealt with the Head of the church, our blessed Saviour himself, when he came to tempt him. ' If thou be the Son of God, command these stones to be made bread,' Matt. iv. 3. He comes with an if ; he laboured to shake him in his sonship. The devil, since he was divided from God himself eternally, is become a spirit of division ; he labom-s to divide the Son from the Father ; he labours to divide even God the Father from his own Son : If thou be the Soji of God. So he labours to sever Christians from their head, Christ ; subjects from their princes, and princes from their subjects ; friends from friends, and one from another ; — he is a spirit of division : Where is thy God ? There was his scope, to breed division, if he could, between his heart and God, that he might call God into jealousy, as if he had not regarded him : thou hast taken a great deal of pains in serving thy God ; thou seest how he regards thee now : Where is thy God ? We should laboiu' to make this use of it, to counter- work Satan ; to strengthen that most of all, that the devil labours to shake most of all. Shall the devil labour to shake om- faith and affiance in God above all other things, and shall we not labour to strengthen that ? Above aU things, let us look to our head, as the serpent winds about and keeps his head. Keep faith, and keep all. If faith be safe, all is safe ; let us strengthen that, and strengthen all ; weaken that, and we weaken all. What cares Satan for other sins that we fall into ? He aims at our assurance, that we may doubt of God's love, whom we have been so bold as to sin against. That is it ho aims at, to make weak faith in the particular acts of sin we commit. He luiows that sin naturally breeds doubts, as flesh breeds worms. THE SWORD OF THE WICKED. Ill Where sin is, if it be in never such a httle degree, he knows it will breed doubts and perplexities, and where they are, he hath that he would have. He labours to hinder that sweet communion that should be between the soul and God : Where is now thy God ? You see wicked men are the children of the devil right in this. Again, thej' instance here in matter of religion against him. You see how ready wicked and devilish-minded men are, to tread over the hedge where it is lowest, as the proverb is, to add affliction to affliction, especially in that that may touch a man nearest. They could not touch him nearer than in this. Where is thy God ? They knew it well enough, where is now your religion ? This, they thought, would anger him to the heart. Here is a devilish disposition. You have a terrible psalm for it, Ps. cix., of those that add affliction to the afflicted ; they are cursed j^ersons. This is the disposition of wicked men, they have no mercy. Malice, we say, is unsatiable. One would think that our Saviour Chi'ist, when he was upon the cross, racked there in all his parts, a man exposed to so much misery and scorn as he was, that they should have had pity upon him ; but upon the cross they reproached him. Aha, he saved others, himself he cannot save ; let him come from the cross, and we will believe in him. What a bitter sarcasm was this, that came from hell itself ! Nay, when he was dead, one would have thought their malice should have been bmicd -^dth his body. Malice is ordinarily among men living, not the dead ; but when he was dead. This impostor said, dec, Matt. xx-\d. 61. They labom-ed to bury his good name, that nothing tending to his honour might remain of him. Indeed, it is the nature of malice to wish the not being of the thing it maUceth, no, not the name. Lei his name jjerish from the earth, Ps. xli. 5. It was extremity of malice to work upon this disadvantage, when they see him thus afflicted, to vex him with that ho was most affected with, Where is thy God ? Therefore, let those that feel and feed that devilish disposition in themselves to insult over God's people, especially in matters of religion to vex them, and when there is a wound already, to make the affliction gi'cater, to add afflic- tion to affliction, let them judge of what disposition they are. They say unto me. You see here another circumstance, they say mito me. They are so impudent that they are not afraid to reproach him to his face ; they say unto him, as if they would stand to their reproach. This is one circumstance of aggravation. Indeed malice is veiy impudent, when it is come to the extremity. I only observe it, that if we meet with such insolency of malice, not to be discouraged ; it hath been thus before, and thus it will be to the end of the world. And, then, they are not wearied, their malice is unwearied ; they say to me, Daily. Day by day their malice is fed ^vith a spring, with a maUcious heart. A malicious heart and a slanderous tongue alway go well together. The devil, that was the first grand slanderer, hath communion with a malicious heart, and he foments malice, and cherisheth that malicious, poison- ful disposition ; and a malicious disposition never wants malicious words. As one saith of anger and fury, it ministereth weapons (c), so we may say of malice and hatred, it ministereth words alway. A malicious heart will never want words : they say to me, daily. These are but circumstances, but yet they are somewhat considerable, for they tend to the aggi'avation of the disconsolate estate of this holy man, that he should meet with such wretched men, that had no pity at all on him, but say to him daily, Where is now thy God ? You see then from hence that God is a God, 112 THE SWORD OF THE WICKED. as the prophet saith, ofttimes hiding himself, Isa. xlv. 15, that God vails himself ofttimes to his children. Not only from the eyes of wicked men, that they think godly men deserted of God, but sometimes from the very sense and feeling of God's children themselves. They are in such deser- tions that they are fain to complain that God hath hid himself, and is as a stranger to them. This is the state of God's children in this world. Though God love them dearly, ' as the apple of his eye, and as the signet on his hand,' Zech. ii. 8, and Jer. xxii. 24, yet notwithstanding his car- riage to them is ofttimes so strange, that those that look upon their estate in this world think they are men, as it were, forlorn and destitute of God. And this estate must needs be, because of necessity there must be a con- formity between us and our Saviour. It was so with our Saviour, ' My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ? ' Matt, xxvii. 46. God was never nearer him in all his hfe than then, and yet he cries out, ' My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ? ' And as he spake, so the rest thought of him, as if he had been a man forsaken ; and so here they say to this holy man. Where is thy God ? Therefore let us lay up this likewise for the strengthening of our faith in the like case, that we be not overmuch discom'aged. If God hide himself, if others think our estates miserable, and oui'selves think oui'selves so, it is no strange matter. It was thus with David. He was so neglected of God that they thought God had clean forsaken him. Where is thy God ? Our life is now hid with Christ, as the apostle saith. Col. iii. 3. We have a blessed and glorious life, but it is hid in our Head. Even as in winter time the trees have a Hfe, but it is hid in the root, so a Christian hath a blessed condition at all times, but his glory and happiness is hid in hig Head, and there is a cloud between him and his happiness. Therefore let us support oiu'selves mth this in all times, was God gone from Da\dd indeed when they said, ' Where is thy God ? ' Oh no ; God was as near David now as ever he was, nay, rather nearer. God was never nearer Moses than when he was sprawling upon the water in that ark they had made for him, Ex. ii. 3. He was never nearer Daniel than when he was in the lion's den, Dan. vi. 19. God came between the Hon's teeth and Daniel. And, as I said, he was never nearer our Saviour than when he was on the cross. And he was never nearer to David than when they said, ' Where is thy God ? ' When trouble is near, God is never far off. That is an argu- ment to make God near. Lord, be not far off, for trouble is near. And ex- tremity and danger and trouble, it is God's best opportunity to be with his children, however he do not help for the present ofttimes. ' Where is thy Godr David might rather have said to them, Where are your eyes ? where is your sight? for God is not only in heaven, but in me. Though David was shut from the sanctuary, yet David's soul was a sanctuary for God ; for God is not tied to a sanctuary made with hands. God hath two sanctua- ries, he hath two heavens: the heaven of heavens and a broken spirit. God dwelt in David as in his temple. God was with David and in him; and he was never more with him, nor never more in him, than in his greatest afflictions. They wanted eyes, ho wanted not God. Though sometimes God hide himself, not only from the world, but from his OAvn children, yet he is there ; howsoever their sorrow is such that it dims their sight (as we see in Hagar), so that they cannot see him for the present. Gen. xxi. 19. He sometimes looks in their face, as we see Mary. She could not see Christ distinctly, but thought him to be the gardener. There is a kind of THE SWOBD OF THE WICKED. 113 concealment a while in heavenly wisdom, yet, notwithstanding, God is with his children always, and they know it by faith, though not by feehng always. As we know what Jacob said, ' God was in this place, and I was not aware,' Gen. xxviii. 16, when he slept upon the stone, and had that heavenly vision; so it is with God's people in their trouble. God is with his chiu'ch and childi'en, and wicked men are not aware of it. Christ is in them, and they are not aware of it. Christ was in the saints when Saul persecuted them, and Paul was not aware of it, ' Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? Who art thou, Lord?' saith he. Alas! he dreamed not of Christ. How- ever wicked men of the world think, yet God is near his own childi'en, in the most disconsolate condition that can be. It is, when they say, ' Where w thy God ." ' as if a man should ask what is become of the moon between the old and the new, when the dark side is towards us, when we see no moon at aU for a time, till the new come ? The moon is near, and more enlightened with the sun then than at other times, and is nearer to him. So in afflictions. However the dark side of God's chikken be towai'd the world, that they cannot see them, yet theii' light side is towards God. God shines upon them, and enlightens them more then at that time with soUd comfort, that keeps them fi'om sinking, than at other times. Therefore it was an ignorant question of them to ask, Where is thy God ? It shewed they were ignorant of the passages of God's deahng with his children, as indeed none are gi'eater atheists than yom* scoffers. Where is thy God ? as if God had been only a God of observation, to be observed outwardly in all his passages towards his childi-en, whereas, as I said, he is a God hid- ing himself ofttimes ; and he shews himself in contraiy conditions most of all, most comfortably. His work is by contraries. But these carnal men were ignorant of the mysteries of religion, and the mysteries of divine provi- dence towards God's children. Therefore their question savoui'S of their disposition. Where is now thy God / Thus briefly I have gone over their dis- position and carriage towards the holy man David, that they were enemies of hostile nature and disposition, and they reproached him, and daily, and that in his religion. Where is thy God / I beseech you let us look to it in time, that it may not be tinily said to us, by way of upbraiding. Where is now thy God / God may be strange to us indeed ; let us so carry ourselves as that God may own us in the worst times. If they had said this truly, how giievous had it been to David ! but it was more malice than truth. For David foimd experience of God. He might rather have upbraided them. Where is your God ? and there is no wicked man, but a man may in his gi'eatest extremity upbraid him, and that in truth, "Where is yom* God? your riches, honour, and estate? where is all this that you supported yourself with, and bore yom'self so big on, that you despised all others ? what has become of all now ? A man can- not stand in a thing that stands not itself. A man cannot build on that that hath no good foundation. Now aU men that are not truly religious, they have some idol or other that will deceive them. Therefore a man may tnily say to them, that which they falsely and mahciously say to God's people. Where is your God ? So much for theu' disposition and carriage. Now how stands David affected with this ? that is the second part. .:1s uith a sword in my bones. It was as a sword to his bones. Now that that toucheth the bones is the most exquisite gi-ief. That that we call the grief of the teeth, you see what an exquisite gi-ief it is in that little member. "When the bones are cut or touched, it is a most exquisite VOL. I. H 114 THE SWORD OF THE WICKED. grief. As tilth a sivorcl in my bones, my enemies reiJroach me. What was ttie matter that this reproach, Where is thy God ? touched hun bo to the quick ? What was the cause ? The causes were diverse. First of all concerning God : for when they said to him, ' Wliere is thy God?' First, It tended to the reproach of God, as if God were so fickle a friend as to desert his best friends in the time of misery. This touched upon God by way of disparagement, therefore it must needs touch David, who was God's friend. Then, again, it touched God in another thing, in his manner of provi- dence, as if he had been a God of the hills and not of the valleys ; as if he had been a God for one time and not for another. Where is now thy God ? What is become of him ? Again, in the third place, it touched upon him in this, as if he had favoured them, being cursed, formal hypocrites, more than David ; as if he had favoured their formal, h}-pocritical, base, dead courses, that were most abominable to God. For these persecutors were Saul's courtiers, and other enemies. Wicked men, they thought to justify their own ways by this re- proach, You see we are as good as you. God respects us ; we fall not into such miseries ; we have recourse to Saul, though he have cast out you and others, &c. So it tended to God's reproach in that, as if God had justified then' com-se, as if they had been dearer to him that were most abominable. And this is to make an idol of God, to make God justify those courses that he most abhors, as it is in Ps. 1., ' Thou thoughtest I was like unto thee.' Because God lets a wicked man alone, thou thoughtest that I was a companion for thee, and would take thee by the hand ; whereas God wiU not do so. In these three respects, especially, God was wronged when they said, * Where is thy God ?' as if he had not been a true and faithful fiiend to his children ; and, besides, as if he had not a providence over his children in the worst condition ; as if he had allowed and liked of the base carriage, and condition, and profession of these wretched men as well as of David's. ' Where is 7iotv thy God?' You see God respects us as well as you. But there was no such matter ; he respected David more than a thousand of them. Again, this touched upon rehgion itself, this reproach, * Where is now thy God ?' where is your goodly profession ? as if it were in vain to serve God, a horrible reproach to religion. It is not in vain altogether to serve the devil ; he bestows somewhat upon his servants. This was a base thought, to think that God would do no good to them that serve him. That is the fountain of all good, that doeth good to his enemies, that suflers his sun to shine upon his enemies. Mat. v. 45. For him to desert his friends, for a man to be truly religious and get nothing by it, this tended to the reproach of religion ; and through David's sides they strike at God and religion, as if it were in vain to serve God, as they said in Malachi's time, Mai. iii. 14. And, indeed, this is in the hearts of men now-a-days. If they see a man that makes care and conscience of his ways, under a cloud, or that he doth not so prosper in the world as others do, they begin to have weak conceits of the profession of religion, as if that were the cause, as if there was nothing gotten by serving of God. But we may be loose professors, and go in a libertine course, and please God as well as others. This is a great grief to God's children. They know well THE SWORD OF THE WICKED. 115 enough it is not in vain to serve God. God is not a ban-en wilderness, Jer. ii. 31, to those that serve him ; they are not ban-en gi'ound that are careful in his sei-vice. So jon see upon what gi-ound he was thus affected, because God and rehgion were touched in it. Take away a godly man's religion, and his God whom he serves in religion, you take away his life ; touch him in that, you touch him in his best freehold. Therefore, when these malicious enemies say, Where is thy God ? they could not more touch David than so. Profane men of the world come and tell them of religion and such things. Alas ! they turn it off with scom, for they would have the world know that they are not veiy reli- gious ; they never speak of God and of religion but in scom, or by way of discourse. But a man that is religious to purpose, and makes it his trade, makes it that whereby he hopes to be saved, he takes to heart any thing that is spoken against religion, their words are as a sword in his hones, while they say unto him. Where is thy God ? It is better to be dis- tempered than not to be moved, when God and religion are touched. The Holy Ghost that appeared in the shape of a dove, Matt. iii. 16, appeared at another time in fiery tongues. Acts ii. 3, to shew that the meek spirit of God is zealous other whiles in his children. This was another reason he was thus affected. And, thirdly, in this reproach of theirs, thus violent, ' "Wliere is now thy God ?' here was a damping of the spirits of all good men in those times, that should hear of this reproach. Words affect strangely ; they have a strange force with men, especially in weak fancies, that are not gi'ounded in their judgment and faith. The spies made a shrewd oration, and brought an ill report on the land : Oh ! it is a land that devours the inhabitants, Num. sdii. 32. It was a speech discomfortable, and it wrought so, that it made them all mm-mm* and be discouraged. It is not to be thought what mis- chief comes fi'om speech cunningly handled. This malicious speech, * Where is thy God ?' and what is become of all thy devotion at the taber- nacle, that thou didst frequent so, and di'ewest others, a great train with thee, what is become of aU now ? When weak men, that had the begin- nings of goodness in them, should see a man reproached for this, question- less it would damp the beginnings of goodness. would not this go to the heart of David, to see insolent men to quench good things in good men with reproaches ! Well, we see what reason the holy man David had to be so sensible of this reproach, for they said unto him daily, ' ^^^lere is thy God ? ' Now, therefore, to make some use of it to ourselves, let us enter into our own souls, and examine with what spirits and feeling we hear God reproached, and religion reproached, and hindered, and disgraced any kind of way. If we be not sensible of this, and sensible to the quick, we may suspect we are not of David's spirit, that was a man after God's own heart, 1 Samuel xiii. 14 ; Acts xiii. 22. It was a cutting of his bones, when they came to disparage his rehgion, and profession, and to touch him in that. ShaU a man see men forsake religion, and go backward, and desert the cause of God, and see it oppressed, and not be affected with all this ? Certainly he hath a dead soul. That which hath no grief, when there is cause of gi'ief, certainly it is to be accounted but as dead flesh. That heart is but dead flesh that is not touched with the sense of religion. And to come a little nearer to om' times, when we can hear of the estate of the church abroad, the poor chm-ch in the Palatinate, in Bohemia, {d) and those places, you see how like a canker, superstition is grown up amongst 116 THE SWORD OF THE WICKED. them ; ■when we hear of these things and are not affected, and do not send up a sigh to God, it is a sign we have hollow and dead hearts. No ques- tion but if we were there among those malignant spirits that are there, their speeches are daily such, as these wicked men's were to David, What is become of youi- reformation ? What is become of your new religion ? Where is that now, I pray ? You that do upbraid us with idolatry, what is become of your religion ? No question but they have these sarcasms and bitter speeches daily ; and those that have the Spirit of God, they are grieved to the heart. If we have the Spirit of God and of Christ in our breasts, and anything of the spirit of David and of holy men, we will grieve at this. The apostle St Paul, when Elymas labom-ed to stop, when one was to be converted, he breaks out, ' Thou child of the devil, and enemy of all good, why dost thou not cease to pervert the right ways of God ?' Acts xiii. 10. A man that is not fired in this case, hath nothing at all in him. When we see wicked men go about to peiwert reUgion, and overturn all, and we are not stirred at it, it is an ill sign. Let us, therefore, take a trial of ourselves, how we stand affected in case of religion. He that hath no zeal in him hath no love. By an antiperis- tasis, an opposition of the contraiy increaseth the contraiy ; if a man have any goodness, if it be envii-oned with opposition, it will intend (e) the goodness and increase it. Lot shewed his goodness in Sodom the more, because of the wickedness of the Sodomites. When a man is in vile company, and hears religion disgraced, and good persons scoffed at, and will not have a word to justify good causes and good persons, he hath no life at all of reli- gion ; for if he had, he would then have more religion than ordinary, the contrary would then intend, and increase the contrary. There was a blessed mixture of many affections in this grief of the holy man David, when he said, ' their words were as a sword in his bones.' There was great grief, not only for himself, as a man being sensible of reproaches, for men are men ; and not out of con-upt nature, but out of the principles of nature, they are sensible of reproaches. Here was giief in respect of God, and in respect of himself ; and here was the love of God and the love of religion in this grief. Here was zeal in this, and a sweet mixtm'e of blessed affec- tions ; a sweet temper in this, when he saith, ' their words were as a sword in my bones.' Let us make a use of trial, bring ourselves to this pattern, and think, if we do come short of this, then we come short of that that should be in us. But especially let us consider with what hearts we entertain those doleful and sad reports of foreign chm'ches, and with what consideration and view we look upon the present estate of the church, whether we be glad or no. There are many false spirits that either are not affected at all, or else they are inwardly glad of it ; they are of the same disposition that those cxirsed Edomites were of, ' Down with it, down with it, even unto the gi'ound,' Ps. cxxxvii. 7. I hope that there are but few such amongst us here, therefore I will not press that. But if we be dead-hearted, and are not affected with the cause of the church, let us suspect ourselves, and think all is not well. The fire from heaven is not kindled in our hearts. Our hearts are not yet the altar where God hath lundled that heavenly fire, if we can hear religion disgraced, and good causes go backward, and not be affected. ' Curse ye Moroz.' Why ? Because ' thoy went not out to help the Lord,' Jud. v. 28. If those be cursed that do not help, as they can, by their prayers, then surely they are cursed that are dead-hearted, that are not affected at all, that join with the persecutors, that cry, ' Down with it even to the ground,' THE SWORD OF THE WICKED. 117 and say, ' Aha, so we would have it.' If those be cursed that help not for- ward the cause of the church, at least by their prayers, and strive and con- tend for ' the faith once given,' Jude 3, what shall we think of those that are not affected at all ? nay, which is worst of all, that hinder good causes, that are scomers of rehgion and good causes, what shall we think of those wretched spirits ? How opposite are they to the spirit of David ! To add one thing more, we may learn hence the extent of the command- ments, how to enlarge the commandments. Our Savioui', Christ, when he came to preach the gospel, he began with the enlargement of the command- ments, shewing the spiritual meaning and extent of the law, ' He that calleth his brother Eaca, or fool, is in danger of hell fire,' and ' He that looks on a woman to lust after her, hath committed adultery with her in his heart,' Mat. V. 22, 28. You see here the prophet David, when he speaks of their reproach, he speaks of it as if they had a mm-derous intention ; and in the event and issue it is a kiad of murder. As udth a sword in my hones, my enemies re- proach me, &c. This sword were but words. He is a murderer in God's esteem, and so it will prove if he repent not, that wounds another man with his tongue. For what doth the Holy Ghost here in David ? Doth he not set out words by swords ? Is it not oft in the Psalms, ' Their words are as swords, the poison of asps is under their lips ?' Kom. iii. 13. There is an excellent place you have for this in Prov. sii. 18, ' There is that speaks Uke the piercing of a sword, but the tongue of the wise is health.' A good man hath a healing tongue, he hath a medicinal, salving tongue ; but a wicked man, his words are as swords, and, as he saith here, then* speaking is as the piercing of a sword. Therefore, hence let us leai-n not to think ourselves free from mm'der when we have killed nobody, or free from adultery when we are free from the gross act. This is but a pharisaical gloss upon the commandments ; but if we will understand the command- ments of God as they are to be understood, we must enlarge them as the Scrip tm-e enlargeth them. He that prejudiceth the life and comfort of any man, he is a mm'derer of him in God's esteem ; and he that labom-s to cut another man to the heart with sharp, piercing words, in God's esteem he is a mm-derer. Those that, though among men, they cannot say black is their eye, and pride themselves, as if they were very religious men ; yet, notwithstanding, they are men that are not wanting of then- tongues, men that care not to speak bitterly and sharply of others. If they did con- sider of this, it would take them down, and make them think a little meaner of themselves, when, indeed, in God's construction, they are Uttle better than murderers. ' As with a sword in my bones, mine enemies re- proach me, while they say to me daily. Where is thy God ? ' So much for these words. KOTES. (a) P. 105. — ' Scantling' = a proportion, or simply, portion. This is a somewhat peculiar nse of a not very common word. It occurs in Shakspeare once in the same sense with that here : ' Trust to me, Ulyss3s, Our imputation shall be oddly pcis'd In this wild action : for the success. Although particular, shall give a scantling Of good or bad unto the general.' — Troilus and Cressida, i. 3. See also Locke, Human Understanding, h. ii., c. 21. 118 THE SWOED OF THE WICKED. (b) P. 108. — 'As killing in my hones.' The strong impression 'killing,' or even as it might he rendered, murder, is a literal equivalent of the original (n2i1), which. is intended to express excruciating pain. Compare Ezekiel xxi. 22, rendered ' slayeth' in auth. version. (c) P, 111. — ' As one saith of anger.' The reference is to Virgil, ^n., lib. i., V. 150 : ' Furor arma ministrat ; Turn pietate gravem ac meritis, si forte virum quern Conspexere,' &c. (d) P. 115 — 'The poor church in the Palatinate.' Our memoir shews the deep interest Sihbes, in common with the ' Puritans,' took in the persecuted Protestants of Bohemia (e) P. 116. — ' Intend' = stretch, and so augment. Kichardson illustrates the word from Barrow. G. THE SOUL'S CONFLICT WITH ITSELF, AND VICTORY OVER ITSELF BY FAITH. A TREATISE OF THE INWARD DISQUIETMENTS OF DISTRESSED SPIRITS, WITH COMFORTABLE REMEDIES TO ESTABLISH THEM. THE SOUL'S CONFLICT, AND VICTORY OVER ITSELF BY FAITH. NOTE. The several editions of the ' Soul's Conflict,' known to the Editor, and collated for the present publication, are, with the letters used to designate them, as follows : — (aj The Sovles Conflict with itselfe, and Victorie over it selfe by Faith. A Trea- tise of the inward disquietments of distressed spirits, with comfortable remedies to establish them, ' Returne unto thy rest, my soule, for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee.'' By R. Sibbs, D.D., Master of Katherine Hall, in Cambridge, and Preacher at Grayes Inue, London. Printed at London, by M. Flesher, for R. Dawlman, at the Brazen Serpent, in Paul's Churchyard. 1635. 12n>o. A. *,;j* This is the first edition. (6) There was a re-issue in same year — 1635 — of A. It is distinguishable from it by having ' Victory ' for ' Victorie ' in title-page, and by certain corrections, and one alteration. The chief interest attaching to it rests on the latter, upon which Bishop Patrick makes his charge against the Puritans of ' falsification.' See note at end of treatise. (c) 2d edition, 1635. 12mo. C. [d) Another called ' 2d edition,' 1636. 12mo, D. {e) 3d edition, 1636. 12mo. E. (/) 4th edition, 1638. 12mo. F. [g) Another called '4th edition,' 1651. 12mo. G, \h) 5th edition, 1658. 12mo, H. The text of our reprint is A (see title-page supra), with collations from B; C to H consist simply of reproductions of C, and which, except in the addition of the ' Verses ' by Benlowes and Quarles, follows B. I have preferred A as our text, from its having been published by Sibbes himself, but have carefully noted the ' correc- tions ' and alteration supra as unquestionably made by his authority. The division into chapters of C has been retained, as facilitating perusal. G. TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL SIK JOHN BANKES, KNIGHT, THE king's majesty's ATTORNEY-GENERAL,* SIE EDWAED MOSELY, KNIGHT, HIS majesty's attorney of THE DUCHY [OF LANCASTER] ,f SIE WILLIA^I DENNY, KNIGHT, ONE OF THE KINg's LEARNED COUNCIL, J SIE DUDLEY DIGGES, KNIGHT, ONE OF THE IiU.STERS OF THE CHANCERY ;|| AND THE REST OF THE WORSHIPFUL, HEADERS AND BENCHERS, WITH THE ANCIENTS, BARRISTERS, STUDENTS, AND ALL OTHERS BELONGING TO THE HONOURABLE SOCIETY OP GRAY's INN, R[ICHARD] SIBBES DEDICATETH THESE SERMONS, PREACHED AMONGST THEM, IN TESTIMONY OF HIS DUE OBSERVANCE, AND DESIRE OF THEIR SPIRITUAL AND ETERNAL GOOD. * Sir John Bankes was a man of mark in liis generation. He was constituted Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, from being attorney, as above described, in 1640-41. He adhered to Charles I ; and was employed against Hampden the patriot, in the case of ship-money. His wife's noble defence of Corfe Castle, and its fall by treachery in the next year, has been well told by a descendant in a volume dedicated to the story of Corfe Castle. He died in 1644, at Oxford. — Consult Foss's admirable Judges of England, vol. vi. ; also Lloyd's 'Memoires,' pp. 586-7, 1668. t Sir Edward Mosely or Mosley was of the family of Ancoats, near Manchester. now represented by Sir Oswald Mosley, Bart. X Sir "William Denny was of Cambridgeshire and Ireland. — See Burke. II Sir Dudley Digges, like Bankes, is a historical character. After fulfilling various senatorial and diplomatic appointments, and suffering imprisonment more than once, he was admitted Master in Chancery in 1631, and received a grant of the reversion of the office of Master of the Rolls after the death of Sir Julius Caesar He obtained possession of it at Sir Julius's death, in April 1636, and held it till his owHj in March 18, 1639. He is one of Fuller's ' Worthies.' — See Foss, as supra. G. TO THE CHEISTIAN EEADEE. There be two sorts of people always in the visible church, one that Satan keeps under with false peace, whose life is nothing but a diversion to pre- sent contentments, and a running away from God and their own hearts, which they know can speak no good unto them ; these speak peace to themselves, but God speaks none. Such have nothing to do with this Scripture, Ps. xlii. 11 ; the way for these men to enjoy comfort, is to be soimdly troubled. True peace arises from knowing the worst first, and then our freedom from it. It is a miserable peace that riseth from ignor- ance of evil. The angel ' troubled the waters,' John v. 4, and then it* cured those that stepped in. It is Christ's manner to trouble our souls first, and then to come with healing in his wings. But there is another sort of people, who being drawn out of Satan's kingdom and within the covenant of grace, whom Satan labours to unsettle and disquiet : being the ' god of the world,' 2 Cor. iv. 4, he is vexed to see men in the world, walk above the world. Since he cannot hinder their estate, he wiU trouble their peace, and damp their spfrits, and cut asimder the sinews of aU their endeavours. These should take themselves to task as David doth here, and labour to maintain their portion and the glory of a Christian profession. For whatsoever is in God or comes from God, is for their comfort. Himself is the God of comfort, Rom. xv. 5 ; his Spirit most known by that office, John xiv. 26. Our blessed Saviour was so careful that his disciples should not be too much dejected, that he forgat his own bitter passion to comfort them, whom yet he knew would aU for- sake him: 'Let not your hearts be troubled,' saith he, John xiv. 1, 27. And his own soul was troubled to death, that we should not be troubled : ' whatsoever is written is written for this end,' 2 Cor. ii. 9 ; every article of faith hath a special influence in comforting a believing soul. They are not only food, but cordials ; yea, he put himself to his oath, that we might not only have consolation, but stronrj consolation, Heb. vi. 18. The sacra- ments seal unto us all the comforts we have by the death of Christ. The exercise of religion, as prayer, hearing, reading, &c., is, that 'our joy may be full,' 2 John 12. The communion of saints is chiefly ordained to comi fort the feeble-minded and to strengthen the weak, 1 Thess. v. 14. God's government of his church tends to this. Why doth he sweeten our pil- grimage, and let us see so many comfortable days in the world, but that we should serve him with cheerful and good hearts ? As for crosses, he doth but cast us down, to raise us up, and empty us that he may fill us, and * 'It,' removed in C. TO THE CHEISTIAN READER. 123 melt us that we may be * vessels of glory,' Rom. ix. 23, loving us as well in the furnace, as when we are out, and standing by us all the while. ' Wo are troubled, but not distressed ; perplexed, but not in despaii' ; persecuted but not forsaken,' 2 Cor. iv. 8. If we consider fi-om what fatherly love afflictions come, how they are not only moderated but sweetened and sancti- fied in the issue to us, how can it but minister matter of comfort in the greatest seeming discomforts ? How then can we let the reins of our afl'ec- tions loose to sorrow without being injurious to God and his providence ? as if we would teach him how to govern his church. What unthankfulness is it to forget our consolation, and to look only upon matter of grievance ! to think so much upon two or three crosses, as to forget a hundred blessings ! to suck poison out of that from which we should suck honey ! What folly is it to straiten and darken our own spirits ! and indispose ourselves from doing or taking good ! A limb out of joint can do nothing without defonnity and pain ; dejection takes off the wheels of the soul. Of all other, Satan hath most advantage of discontented persons, as most agreeable to his disposition, being the most discontented creature vmder heaven ; he hammers all his dark plots in then* brains. The discontent- ment of the Israelites in the -ndldemess provoked God to ' swear that they should never enter into his rest,' Ps. xcv. 11. There is 'another spii'it in my servant Caleb,' saith God, Num. xiv. 24. The spirit of God's people is an encom-aging spfrit. Wisdom teaches them, if they feel any grievances, to conceal them from others that are weaker, lest they be disheartened. God threatens it as a cm-se to give a trembling heart, and sorrow of mind, Deut. xxviii. 65 ; whereas on the contraiy, joy is as oil to the soul, it makes duties come off cheerfully and sweetly from ourselves, graciously to others, and acceptably to God. A prince cannot endm'e it in his subjects, nor a father in his children, to be lowering at their presence. Such usually have stolen waters, Prov. is 17, to delight themselves in. How many are there, that upon the disgrace that follows reUgion, are frighted from it ? But what are discom-agements, to the encouragements religion brings with it ? which are such as the very angels themselves ad- mire at. Religion indeed brings crosses with it, but then it brings com- forts above those crosses. What a dishonom- is it to religion to conceive that God will not maintain and honour his followers ; as if his service were not the best service ! what a shame is it for an heir of heaven to be cast down for eveiy petty loss and cross ! to be afraid of a man whose breath is ia his nostrils, Isa. ii. 22, in not standing to a good cause, when we are sure God win stand by us, assisting and comforting us, whose presence is able to make the greatest tonnents sweet ! Tua presentia, Domine, Laurentio ipsam craticulam dulcetn fecit. My discom'se tends not to take men off from aU grief and mom-ning ; * Light for the righteous is sown in sorrow,' Ps. xcvii. 11. Our state of absence fr-om the Lord, and living here in a vale of tears, om* daily infirmi- ties, and our sympathy with others, requires it ; and where most grace is there is most sensibleness, as in Christ. But we must distinguish between grief and that sullenness and dejection of spirit, which is with a repining and taking off from duty. When Joshua was overmuch cast down at Israel's turning their backs before then* enemies, God reproves him, ' Get thee up, Joshua, why liest thou upon thy face?' Josh. vii. 10. Some would have men, after the committing of gross sins, to be presently comfortable, and believe, without humbling themselves at all. Indeed, 124 TO THE CHRISTIAN READER. when we are once in Christ, we ought not to question our state in him, and if we do, it comes not from the Spirit ; but yet a guilty conscience will be clamorous and full of objections, and God will not speak peace unto it till it be humbled. God will let his best children know what it is to be too bold with sin, as we see in David and Peter, who felt no peace tdl they had renewed their repentance. The way to rejoice * with joy unspeakable and glorious,' 1 Pet. i. 8, is to stir up sighs ' that cannot be uttered,' Rom. viii. 26. And it is so far, that the linowledge of our state in grace should not humble us, that very ingenuity considering God's love to us, out of the nature of the thing itself, worketh sorrow and shame in us, to offend his Majesty. One main stop that hinders Christians fi-om rejoicing is, that they give themselves too much liberty to question their grounds of comfort and inte- rest in the promises. This is wonderful, comfortable say they, but what is it to me, the promise belongs not to me ? This ariseth from want of giv- ing all ' diligence to make then* calling sure,' 2 Pet. i. 10, to themselves. In watchfulness and diligence we sooner meet with comfort than in idle complaining. Our care, therefore, should be to get sound evidence of a good estate, and then likewise to keep our evidence clear ; wherein we are not to hearken to our o^vti fears and doubts, or the suggestion of our enemy, who studies to falsify om* evidence, but to the word, and our own consciences enhghtened by the Spirit ; and then it is pride and pettishness to stand out against comfort to themselves. Christians should study to corroborate their title. We are never more in heaven, before we come thither, than when we can read our evidences. It makes us converse much with God, it sweetens all conditions, and makes us willing to do and suffer anjiihiag. It makes us have comfortable and honourable thoughts of om-selves, as too good for the service of any base lust, and brings confidence in God both ia life and death. But what if our condition be so dark that we cannot read our evidence at all ? Here look up to God's infinite mercy in Christ, as we did at the first, when we found no goodness in oiu'selves, and that is the way to recover whatsoever we think we have lost. By honoming God's mercy in Christ, we come to have the Spirit of Christ ; therefore, when the waters of sancti- fication are troubled and muddy, let us run to the witness of blood. God seems to walk sometimes contrai-y to himself ; he seems to discourage, when secretly he doth encom-age, as the ' woman of Canaan,' Matt. xv. 21—23 ; but faith can find out these ways of God, and untie these knots, by looking to the free promise and merciful nature of God. Let our sottish and rebel- lious flesh murmur as much as it will. Who art thou ? and what is thy worth ? yet a Christian ' knows whom he beUeves,' 2 Tim. i. 12. Faith hath learned to set God against all. Again, we must go on to add grace to grace. A growing and fruitful Christian is always a comfortable Christian ; the oil of grace brings forth the oil of gladness. Chi'ist is first a king of righteousness, and then a king of peace, Heb. vii. 2 ; the righteousness that he works by his Spirit brings a peace of sanctification, whereby though we are not freed from sin, yet we are enabled to combat with it, and to get the victory over it. Some degree of comfort follows every good action, as heat accompanies fire, and as beams and influences issue from the sun ; which is so true, that very heathens, upon the discharge of a good conscience, have found comfort and peace answerable ; this is a reward before om* reward, prconium ante jpramium. TO THE CHKISTIAN EEADER. 125 Anotlier thing that hinders the comfort of Christians is, that they forget what a gi'acious and merciful covenant they Hve under, wherein the perfec- tion that is required is to be found in Christ. Perfection in us is sincerity ; what is the end of faith but to bring us to Christ ? Now imperfect faith, if sincere, knits us* to Christ, in whom our perfection hes. God's design in the covenant of gi'ace is to exalt the riches of his mercy above all sin and unworthiness of man ; and we peld him more gloiy of his mercy by believing, than it would be to his justice to destroy us. If we were perfect in omrselves, we should not honour him so much, as when we labour to be found in Christ, having his righteousness upon us, Philip, iii. 9. There is no one portion of Scripture oftener used to fetch up djt'ooping spirits than this : ' Why art thou, cast down, my soul?' It is figurative, and full of rhetoric, and all little enough to persuade the pei-plexed soul quietly to trust in God ; which, without this retiring into oui-selves and checking our hearts, will never be brought to pass. Chiysostom brings in a man loaden with troubles, coming into the church, where, when he heard this passage read, he presently recovered himself, and becomes another man, (Homil. in Genes, xxix.). As David, therefore, did acquaint himself with this form of deahng with his soul, so let us, demanding a reason of our- selves. Why we are cast down ; which wiU at least check and put a stop to the distress, and make us fit to consider more sohd grounds of true comfort. Of necessity the soul must be something calmed and stayed before it can be comforted. Whilst the humours of the body rage in a great distemper, there is no giving of physic ; so when the soul gives way to passion, it is unfit to entertain any counsel, therefore it must be stilled by degrees, that it may hear reason ; and sometimes it is fitter to be moved with ordinary reason (as being more familiar unto it), than with higher reasons fetched fi'om our supernatm-al condition in Christ, as fi-om the condition of man's nature subject to changes, from the uncomehness of yielding to pas- sion for that which it is not in our power to mend, &c. ; these and such like reasons have some use to stay the fit for a while, but they leave the core untouched, which is sin, the trouble of all troubles. Yet when such considerations are made spu-itual by faith on higher grounds, they have some operation upon the soul, as the influence of the moon having the stronger influence of the sun mingled with it becomes more eflectual upon these inferior bodies. A candle Ught being ready at hand is sometimes as useful as the sun itself. But our main care should be to have evangelical grounds of comfort near to us, as reconcihation with God, whereby all things else are reconciled to us, adoption and commimion with Christ, &c., which is never sweeter than under the cross. Philip Lansgrave of Hesse, being a long time prisoner imder Charles the Fifth, was demanded what upheld him all that time ? who answered that ' he felt the divine comfort of the martyi's.' Respondit divinas consolationes martyrum se sensisse. There be divine comforts which are felt under the cross, and not at other times. Besides personal troubles, there are many much dejected with the pre- sent state of the church, seeing the blood of so many saints to be shed, and the enemies oft to prevail ; but God hath stratagems, as Joshua at Al, Josh, vii. He seems sometimes to reth-e, that he may come upon his enemies with the greater advantage. The end of all these troubles will no doubt be the ruin of the antichiistian faction ; and we shall see the church in her more perfect beauty when the enemies shall be in that place which is fittest * ' Us,' omitted in C. 126 TO THE CHRISTIAN KEADKR. for them, the lowest, that is, the footstool of Christ, Ps. ex. 1. The church, as it is highest in the favoui" of God, so it shall be the highest in itself. ' The mountain of the Lord shall be exalted above all mountains,' Isa. ii. 2. In the worst condition, the chm-ch hath two faces, one towards heaven and Chi'ist, which is always constant and glorious ; another towards the world, which is in appearance contemptible and changeable. But God will in the end give her beauty for ashes, and glory double to her shame, Isa. Ixi. 3, and she shall in the end prevail; in the mean time, the power of the ene- mies is in God's hand, robiir hostium apml Deum. The chm'ch of God con- quers when it is conquered, even as our head Christ did, who overcame by patience as well as b}^ power. Chiist's victory was upon the cross. The spirit of a Christian conquers when his person is conquered. The way is, instead of discouragement, to search all the promises made to the church in these latter times, and to tm^n them into prayers, and press God earnestly for the performance of them. Then we shaU soon find God both cursing his enemies and blessing his people out of Zion, by the faith- ful prayers that ascend up from thence. In all the promises we should have special recourse to God in them. In aU storms there is sea room enough in the infinite goodness of God for faith to be carried with full sail. And it must be remembered that in all places where God is mentioned, ■we are to understand God in the promised Messiah, typified out so many ways unto us. And to put the more vigour into such places in the reading of them, we in this latter age of the church must think of God shining upon us in the face of Chi-ist, and our Father in him. If they had so much con- fidence in so little light, it is a shame for us not to be confident in good ■ things, when so strong a light shines round about us, when we profess we believe ' a crown of righteousness is laid up for all those that love his ap- pearing,' 2 Tim. iv. 8. Presenting these things to the soul by faith, setteth the soul in such a pitch of resolution, that no discouragements are able to seize upon it. ' We faint not,' saith St Paul. Wherefore doth he not faint ? Because ' these light and short afiiictions procure an exceeding weight of glory,' 2 Cor. iv. 17. Luther, when he saw Melancthon, a godly and learned man, too much dejected for the state of the church in those times, falls a chiding of him, as David doth here his own soul: ' I strongly hate those miserable cares,' saith he, ' whereby thou writest thou art even spent. It is not the great- ness of the cause, but the greatness of om* incredulity. If the cause be false, let us revoke it. If true, why do we make God in his rich promises a liar ? Strive against thyself, the greatest enemy. Why do we fear the conquered world, that have the conqueror himself on our side ? ' ' Ego miserrimas curas, quibus te consumi scribis, vehementer odi. Quod sic regnant in corde tuo, non est magnitudo causae, sed niagnitudo increduUtatis nostra. Si causa falsa estrevocemus. Si vera, cur facimus ilium tantis promissis men- dacem; luctare contra feipsum maximmn hostem.'-'' Now, to speak something concerning the publishing of this treatise. I began to preach on the text about twelve years since in the city, and after- wards finished the same at Gray's Inn. After which, some having gotten imperfect notes, endeavoured to pulilish them without my privity. There- fore, to do myself right, I thought fit to reduce them to this form. There * These remarkable words of a remarkable man are found in letters addressed to Melancthon during the Diet of Augsburg, a.d. 1530. They are effectively quoted by D'Aubign6, Hist, of Eeformation, b. xiv., § x., c. 6. — G. TO THE CHRISTIAN READER. 127 is a pious and studious gentleman of Gray's Inn, that hath of late published observations upon the whole psalm, =" and another upon this very versef verv well ; and many others, by treatises of faith, I and such like, have furthered the spiritual peace of Christians much. It were to be wished that we would all join to do that which the apostles gloried in, ' to be helpers of the joy of God's people,' 2 Cor. i. 24. By reason of my absence while the work was in printing, some sentences were mistaken. Some will be ready to deprave the labours of other men ; but, so good may be done, let such ill-disposed persons be what they are, and what they will be, unless God turn their hearts. And so I commend thee and this poor treatise to God's blessmg. R. SIBBES. Geay's Inn, July 1. 1635. * ' Whole psalm.' This probably refers to William Bloy's ' Meditations on the 42d Psalm.' 1632. t ' Very verse.' Query, Dr John Reading's ' David's Soliloquy ; being the Sub- stance of Several Sermons on Psalm xlii. 11. 1630?' X ' Faith.' Sibbes had himself prefaced Ball, and Preston, and Culverwell on ' Faith.' *^* Sir Egerton Brydges, in his Eestituta, iii. p. 500, has this note : — ' One of these (on 'Faith '), was written by the Eev. John Eogers. minister of Dedham in Essex ; but I cannot point out the two writers previously alluded to.' G. IN OPUS POSTHUMUM ADMODUM EEVERENDI, MIHIQUE MULTIS NOMINIBUS COLENDI, EICHAEDI SIBBES, S. T. PROFESSOEIS, AUL^ SANCT^. CATH. PK^FECTI DIGNISSIMI. Vade, liber, pie dux animae, pie mentis Achates ; Te relegens, fructu ne pereunte legat ; Quam fcelix prodis ! Prs3 sacro codice sordent, Bartole, sive tui ; sive, Galene, tui. Fidu prseco Dei, ccelestis cultor agelli, Assidui pretium grande laboris habet : Quo niihi nee vita melior, nee promptior ore, Gratior aut vultu, nee fuit arte prior. Nil opus ut nardum caro combibat uncta Sabaeum, Altave marmoreus sydera tangat apex : Non eget bic urna, non marmore ; nempe Tolumen Stat sacrum, vivax marmor, et urna, pio. Qui Cbristo vivens incessit tramite cceli, ^thereumque obiit munus, obire nequit : Ducit hie angelicis sequalia ssecula lustris, Qui verbo studium contulit omne suum. Perlegat hunc legum cultrix veneranda senectus, Et quos plena Deo mens super astra vehit : Venduntur (quanti !) circum palatiafumi! Hie sacer altaris carbo minoris erit ? Heu ! pietas ubi prisca ? profana 6 tempora ! mundi Fsex ! vesper ! prope nox ! 6 mora ! Christe veni. Si valuere preces unquam, et custodia Christi, Nunc opus est precibus, nunc ope, Christe, tua. Certat in humanis vitiorum infamia rebus, Hei milii ! nulla novis sufhcit herba mails ? Probra referre pudet ; nee enim decet : exprobret illa_ Qui volet ; est nostrum flere, silendo queri. Flere ? Tonabo tuas, pietas neglecta, querelas : Quid non schisma, tepor, fastus, et astus agunt ? Addo — Sed historicus Tacitus fuit optimus. Immo Addam — spha;rarum at musica muta placet. Edv. Benlosio.* C'EESSINGiE TEMrLARIOEUM, Prid. Cal. Febr. MDCxxxv.t * Edward Benlowes, Esq. He wasof Brenthall. Essex. Consult Brydges's Kesti- tuta, iii. 41, 42; and Wood's Fasti Oxon. (ed. by Bliss), ii. 358. His principal book is his ' Theophila.' Samuel Butler, Pope, and Bishop Warburton. have satirized his jioetry. It is to bo feared his tribute to Sibbcs will not neutralize the general con- demnation. Ho was a good man, and the friend of good men, to his own impover- ishment. t Sibbcs died Jxdy 5. 1G35, and yet this poem, dated ' February 1635,' is in memo- riam. The explanation is tliat prior to 1752, the year in England was reckoned not from 1st January, but from 25th March. All those days, therefore, intervening between the 31st of December and the 25th of March, which we should now date as belonging to a particular year, were then dated as belonging to the year j)recediue; that, llenco while Benlowes wrote according to our reckoning in 1636, he still dates 1635. G. ON THE WORK OF IVIY LEARNED FRIEND DOCTOR SIBBES. J'ooL that 1 was ! to think my easy pen Had strength enough to glorify the fame Of this known author, this rare man of men, Or give the least advantage to his name. Who think by praise to make his name more bright, Shew the sun's glory by dull candle-light.* Blest saint ! thy hallow'd pages do require No slight preferment from our slender lays ; We stand amazed at what we most admire : Ah, what are saints the better for our praise ! He that commends this volume does no more Than warm the fire or gild the massy ore.* Let me stand silent, then. may that Spirit Which led thine hand direct mine eye, my breast. That I may read and do, and so inherit (What thou enjoy'st and taught'st) eternal rest ! Fool that I was ! to think my lines could give Life to that work, by which they hope to live. Fra[NCIS] QuA[RLES].t * Sir Egerton Brydges, in his Restituta, annotates here. — ' This is much in unison with Shakespeare's thought : — " To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful and ridiculous excess." ' Aristotle might haply here have been introduced by the Commentators, e. g., ' They who demonstrate plain things, light a candle to see the sun,' iii. p. 499. t Francis Quarles. There is no doubt that this was the quaint poet of the Em- blems,' and many other volumes not so well known as they deserve to be. It was common to contract names thus, formerly. The ' Garden of Spiritual Flowers,' (1622) is worded on title-page, ' A Garden of Spirituall Flowers, planted by Ei. Ro., Will. Per., Ri. Gree., M. M., and Geo. Web.,' designating severally, Richard Rogers, William Perkins, Richard Greene, &c., &c., and so in many other instances. G VOL. I. THE SOUL'S CONFLICT WITH ITSELF. Why art thou cast down, my soul ? and tvhy art thou disquieted within me ? hope thou in God ; for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God. — Psalm XLII. 11. The Psalms are, as it were, the anatomy of a holy man, which lay the inside of a truly devout man outward to the view of others. If the Scrip- tures be compared to a body, the Psalms may well be the heart, they are so full of sweet affections and passions. For in other portions of Scripture God speaks to us ; but in the Psalms holy men speak to God and their own hearts, as In this Psalm we have the passionate passages of a broken and troubled spirit. At this time David was a banished man, banished from his own house, from his friends, and, which troubled him most, from the house of God, upon occasion of Saul's persecution, who hunted him as a partridge upon the mountains. See how this works upon him. 1. He lays open his desire springing from his love; love being the prime and leading affection of the soul, from whence grief springs, from being crossed in that we love. For the settuig out of which his affection to the full, he borroweth an expression from the hart. No hart, being chased by the hunters, panteth more after the waters than my heart doth after thee, God, ver. 1. Though he found God present with him in exile, yet there is a sweeter presence of him in his ordinances, which now he wanted and took to heart. Places and conditions are happy or miserable as God vouch- safeth his gracious presence more or less ; and, therefore, * When, when shall it be that I appear before God?' ver. 2. 2. Then, after his strong desire, he lays out his grief, which he could not contain, but must needs give a vent to it in tears ; and he had such a spring of grief in him as fed his tears day and night, ver. 3. All the ease he found was to dissolve this cloud of grief into the shower of tears. Quest. But why gives he this way to his grief? Ans. Because, together with his exiling from God's house, he was up- braided by his enemies with his religion, ' Where is now thy God ?' ver. 3. Grievances come not alone, but, as Job's messengers, Job i., follow oae another. These bitter taunts, together with the remembrance of his former happiness in communion with God in his house, made deep impressions in THE soul's conflict. 131 his soul, when he ' rememberecl how he went with the multitude into the house of God,' ver. 4, and led a goodly train with him, being mlling, as a good magistrate and master of a family, not to go to the house of God alone, nor to heaven alone, but to carry as many as he could with him. Oh ! the remembrance of this made him pour forth, not his words or his tears only, but his veiy soul. Former favours and happiness make the soul more sensible of all impressions to the contrary. Hereupon, finding his soul over sensible, he expostulates with himself, * Why art thou cast down, my soul ? and why art thou disquieted within me ? ' &c. But though the remembrance of the foiTner sweetness of God's presence did somewhat stay him, yet his grief would not so be stilled, and therefore it gathers upon him again. One gi'ief called upon another, ver. 7, as one deep wave follows another, without intermission, until his soul was almost overwhelmed under these waters ; yet he recovers himself a little with looking up to God, who he expected would with speed and authority send forth his lovingkindness, with command to raise him up and comfort him, and give him matter of ' songs in the night,' ver. 8. For all this, his unruly grief mil not be calmed, but renews assaults upon the return of the reproach of his enemies. Their words were as swords, ver. 10, unto him, and his heart being made very tender and sensible of grief, these sharp words enter too deep ; and thereupon he hath recom'se to his former remedy, as being the most tried, to chide his soul, and charge it to trust in God. Chapter I. — General Observations upon tlie Text. Obs. 1. Hence in general we may observe that grief gathered to a head will not be quieted at the first. We see here passions intermingled with comforts, and comforts with passions ; and what bustlmg there is before David can get the victory over his own heart. You have some short- sph-ited Christians that, if they be not comforted at the fii'st, they think all labour with their hearts is in vain, and thereupon give way to their gi'ief. But we see in David, as distemper ariseth upon distemper, so he gives check upon check and charge upon charge to his soul, until at length he brought it to a quiet temper. In physic, if one purge will not carry away the vicious humour, then we add a second ; if that will not do it, we take a thu-d. So should we deal with our souls. Perhaps one check, one charge will not do it, then fall upon the soul again ; send it to God again, and never give over until our souls be possessed of our souls again. Again, in general observe in David's spirit that a gracious and living said is most sensible of the want of spiritual means. Heason. The reason is because spiritual life hath answerable taste, and hunger and thirst after spiritual helps. We see in nature that those things press hardest upon it that touch upon the necessities of natm-e, rather than* those that touch upon delights ; for these further onlj'^ our comfortable being, but necessities uphold our being itself, acrius urgent qua; necessitatis sunt, quam qua; spectant ad voluptatem. We see how famine wrought upon the patriarchs to go into Eg^^^t : where we may see what to judge of those who wiUingly excommunicate them- selves from the assemblies of God's people, where the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are present, where the prayers of holy men meet together in one, and, as it were, bind God, and pull down God's blessing. No private devotion hath that report of acceptance from heaven. 132 THE soul's conflict. Obs. 3. A tliird general point is, that a godly soul, by reason of the life of grace, knows when it is well with it and when it is ill, when it is a good day with it and when a bad. When God shines in the use of means, then the soul is, as it were, in heaven ; when God withdraws himself, then it is in darkness for a time. Where there is but only a principle of nature, without sanctifying grace, there men go plodding on and keep their rounds, and are at the end, where they were at the beginning ; not troubled with changes, because there is nothing within to be troubled; and, therefore, dead means, quick means, or no means, aU is one with them, an argument of a dead soul. And so we come particularly and directly to the words, * Why art thou cast down, my soul ? and ivhy art thou disquieted within me ? ' &c. The words imply, 1, David's state wherein he was ; and 2, express his carriage in that state. His estate was such that in regard of outward condition, he was in variety of troubles ; and that in regard of inward disposition of spirit, he was first cast doivn, and then disquieted. Now for his carnage of himself in this condition, and disposition, he dealeth roundly with himself. David reasoneth the case with David, and first checketh himself for being too much cast down, and then for being too much disquieted. And then layeth a charge upon himself to trust in God ; wherein we have the duty he chargeth upon himself, which is to trust in God, and the grounds of the duty : First, from confidence of better times to come, which would yield him matter oi praising God. And then by a representation of God unto him, as a saving God in all troubles, nay, as salvation itself, an open glorious Saviour in the view of all. The salvation of my countenance. And all this enforced from David's interest in God, He is my God. Obs. 1. Whence observe first, from the state he was now in, that since guilt and corruption hath been derived by the fall, into the nature of man, it hath been subjected to misery and sorrow, and that in all conditions, from the king that sitteth on the throne to him that grindeth on the mill. None ever have* been so good or so great, as could raise themselves so high as to be above the reach of troubles. 1. And that choice part of mankind, the first-fruits and excellency of the rest, which we call the church, more than others; which appears by con- sideration both of the head, the body, and members of the church. For the head Christ, he took our flesh as it was subject to misery after the faU, and was, in regard of that which he endured, both in life and death, a man of sorrows. 2. Yoxih.ebody, the church, it may say from the first to the last, as it is, Ps. cxxix. 1, * From my youth up they have afflicted me.' The church be- gan in blood, hath grown up by blood, and shall end in blood, as it was redeemed by blood. 8. For the members, they are aU predestinated to a conformity to Christ their head, as in grace and glory, so in abasement, Rom. viii. 29. Neither is it a wonder for those that are bom soldiers to meet with conflicts, for travellers to meet with hard usage, for seamen to meet with storms, for strangers in a strange country, especially amongst their enemies, to meet with strange entertainment. A Christian is a man of another world, and here from home, which he * ' Hath,' in C. THE soul's conflict. 133 would forget, if lie were not exercised here, and would take his passage for his country. But though all Christians agree and meet in this, that ' through many afflictions we must enter into heaven,' Acts xiv. 22, yet according to the diversity of place, parts, and grace, there is a different cup measured to every one. Use. And therefore it is but a plea of the flesh, to except against the cross, ' never was poor creature distressed as I am.' This is but self-love, for was it not the case both of head, body, and members, as we see here in David a principal member ? when he was brought to this case, thus to reason the matter with himself, ' Whj art thou cast down, my soul ? and why art thou disquieted within me ? ' Obs. 2. From the frame of David's spirit under these troubles, we may observe, that as the case is thus with all God's people, to be exercised with troubles, they are sensible of them oftentimes, even to castinrj doivn and dis- couraging. And the reason is (1), they are flesh and blood, subject to the same passions, and made of the same mould, subject to the same impressions from without as other men. And (2) their natm'e is upheld with the same supports and refreshings as others, the withdrawing and want of which affecteth them. And (3) besides those troubles they sufier in common with other men, by reason* of their new advancement and their new disposition they have in and from Christ their head, they are more sensible in a pecu- liar manner of those troubles that any way touch upon that blessed con- dition, from a new life they have in and from Christ ; which will better appear if we come more particularly to a discovery of the more special causes of this distemper, some of which are, 1. Without us. 2. Some within us. Chapter IE. — Of Discouragements from without. I. Outward causes of discouragement. 1. God himself: who sometimes withdraws the beams of his countenance from his children, whereupon the soul even of the strongest Christian is disquieted ; when together with the cross, God himself seems to be an enemy unto them. The child of God, when he seeth that his troubles are mixed with God's displeasure, and perhaps his conscience teUs him that God hath a just quarrel against him, because he hath not renewed his peace with his God, then this anger of God puts a sting into all other troubles, and adds to the disquiet. There were some ingredients of this divine temptation, as we call it, in holy David at this time ; though most properly a divine tempta- tion be, when God appears unto us as an enemy, without any special guilt of any particular sin, as in Job's case. And no marvel if Christians be from hence disquieted, whenas the Son of God himself, having always enjoyed the sweet commvmion with his Father, and now feeling an estrangement, that he might be a curse for us, com- plained in all his torments of nothing else, but * My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ? Matt, xxvii. 46. It is with the godly in this case as with vapours drawn up by the sun, which, when the extracting force of the sun leaves them, fall down again to the earth from whence they are drawn. So when the soul, raised up and upheld by the beams of his countenance, is left of God, it presently begins to sink. "We see when the body of the sun is partly hid from us, for totally it cannot, in an eclipse by the body of the moon, that there is a drooping in the whole frame of nature; * ' By reason,' added in B. 134 ■ THE soul's conflict. so it is in the soul, wlien there is anything that comes between God's gracious countenance and it. 2. Besides, if we look down to inferior causes, the soul is oft cast do'\vn by Satan, who is all for casting down, and for disquieting. For being a cursed spirit, cast and tumbled down himself from heaven, where he is never to come again, [he] is hereupon full of disquiet, carrying a hell about himself; whereupon all that he labours for is to cast down and disquiet others, that theymay be, as much as he can procure, in the same cursed condition with himself. He was not ashamed to set upon Christ himself with this tempta- tion of casting down, and thinks Christ's members never low enough, till he can bring them as low as himself. By his envy and subtilty we were driven out of paradise at the first, and now he envies us the paradise of a good conscience ; for that is our paradise until we come to heaven, into which no serpent shall ever creep to tempt us. "When Satan seeth a man strongly and comfortably walk vdth God, he cannot endure that a creatiire of meaner rank by creation than himself should enjoy such happiness. Herein, like some peevish men which are his instruments, men too contentious and bred up therein, as the salaman- der in the fii'e, who when they know the cause to be naught, and then* ad- versaries to have the better title, yet, out of malice, they will follow them with suits and vexations, though they be not able to disable then* opposites' title. If their malice have not a vent in hurting some way, they will burst for anger. It is just so with the devil ; when he seeth men will to heaven, and that they have good title to it, then he follows them with all dejecting and un- comfortable temptations that he can. It is his continual trade and course to seek his rest in our disquiet, he is by beaten practice and profession a tempter in this kind. 3. Again, what Satan cannot do himself by immediate suggestions, that he labours to work by his instruments, who are all for casting down of those who stand in their light, as those in the psalm, who cry, ' Down with him, down with him, even to the ground,' Ps. cxxxvii. 7 ; a character and stamp of which men's dispositions we have in the verse before this text ; * Mine enemies,' saith Da\dd, ' rej)roach me.' As sweet and as compassionate a man as he was, to pray and put on sackcloth for them, Ps. xxxv^. 13, yet he had enemies, and such enemies, as did not suffer their malice only to boil and concoct in their own breasts, but out of the abundance of their hearts, they reproached him in words. There is nothing the nature of man is more impatient of than of reproaches ; for there is no man so mean but thinks himself worthy of some regard, and a reproachful scorn shews an utter disrespect, which issues from the very superfluity of malice. Neither went they behind his back, but were so impudent to say it to his face. A malicious heart and a slandering tongue go together, and though shame might have suppressed the uttering of such words, yet then- insolent carriage spake as much in David's heart, Ps, xxxix. 1. We may see by the language of men's carriage what their heart saith, and what their tongue would vent if they dared. And this their malice was unwearied, for they said daily unto him, as if it had been fed with a continual spring. Malice is an unsatiable monster, it will minister words, as rage ministers weapons. But what was that they said so reproachfully, and said daily ? ' Where is now thy God ? ver. 3. They upbraid him with his singularity, they say not now. Where is God, but Where is thy God, that thou dost boast so much on, as if thou hadst some special interest in him ? where wo see that the scope of the devil and THE soul's conflict. 135 wicked men is to shake the godly's faith and confidence in their God. As Satan laboured to divide betwixt Christ and his Father, ' If thou beest the Son of God, command that these stones be made bread,' Matt. iv. 3, so he laboui'S to divide betwixt Father and Son and us. They labour to bring God in jealousy with Da\ad, as if God had neglected him bearing himself so much upon God. They had some colour of this, for God at this time had vailed himself fi'om David, as he does oft from his best children, for the better discovery of the malice of wicked men ; and doth not Satan tip the tongues of the enemies of religion now, to insult over the chm'ch now lying a bleeding !* What's becomef of their reformation, of their gospel ? Nay, rather what's become of your eyes, we may say unto them ? For God is nearest to his children when he seems farthest off. ' In the mount of the Lord it shall be seen,' Gen. xxii. 14 ; God is with them, and in them, though the wicked be not aware of it ; it is all one, as if one should say betwixt the space of the new and old moon. Where is now the moon ? whenas it is never nearer the sun than at that time. Quest. Where is now thy God ? Am. In heaven, in earth, in me, everywhere but in the heart of such as ask such questions, and yet there they shall find him too in his time, filling their consciences with his wrath ; and then, where is their God ? where are their great fiiends, their riches, their honours, which they set up as a god ? what can they avail them now ? But how was David affected with these reproaches ? Their words were as swords, ' as with a sword in my bones,' &c., ver. 10, they spake daggers to him, they cut him to the quick when they touched him in Ins God, as if he had neglected his servants, whenas the devil himself regards those who serve his turn. Touch a true godly man in his religion, and you touch his Ufe and his best freehold ; he lives more in his God than in himself ; so that we may see here, there is a murder of the tongue, a wounding tongue as well as a healing tongue. Men think themselves freed from mm-der if they kill none, or if they shed no blood, whereas they cut others to the heart with bitter words. It is good to extend the commandment to awake the conscience the more, and breed humility, when men see there is a mur- dering of the tongue. We see David, therefore, upon this reproach, to bo presently so moved, as to fall out with himself for it, ' Why art thou so cast down and disquieted, my soul ?' This bitter taunt ran so much in his mind, that he expresseth it twice in this psalm ; he was sensible that they struck at God through his sides ; what they spake in scorn and hghtly, he took heavily. And indeed, when religion suffers, if there be any heavenly fire in the heart, it will rather break out, than not discover itself at all. We see by daily experience, that there is a special force in words uttered from a subtle head, a false heart and a smooth tongue, to weaken the hearts of professors, by bringing an evil report upon the strict profession of religion ; as the cunning and false spies did upon the good land. Num. xiii. 27, as if it were not only in vain, but dangerous to appear for Chi'ist in evil times. If the example of such as have faint spirits wUl discourage in an army, as we see in Gideon's history. Judges vii., then what will speech enforced both by example and with some show of reason do ? 4. To let others pass, we need not go further than ourselves, for to find causes of discouragement ; there is a seminary of them within us. Our flesh, an enemy so much the worse, by how much the nearer, will be ready * This was preached in the heginning of the troubles of the church. [1623. G.] t ' What becomes,' in C. 136 THE soul's conflict. to upbraid us within us, * Where is now thy God ?' why shouldst thou stand out in a profession that finds no better entertainment ? Chapter III. — Of Discouragements from within. But to come to some particular causes within us. There is cause oft in the body of those in whom a melancholy temper prevaileth. Darkness makes men fearful. Melancholy persons are in a perpetual darkness, all things seem black and dark unto them, their spirits, as it were, dyed black. Now to him that is in darkness, all things seem black and dark ; the sweetest comforts are not lightsome enough unto those that are deep in melancholy. It is, without great watchfulness, Satan's bath ; which he abuseth as his own weapon to hurt the soul, which, by reason of its sympathy with the body, is subject to be misled. As we see where there is a suffusion of the eye by reason of distemper of humours, or where things are presented through a glass to the eye, things seem to be of the same colour ; so whatsoever is presented to a melancholy person, comes in a dark way to the soul. From whence it is that their fancy being cornipted, they judge amiss, even of out- ward things, as that they are sick of such and such a disease, or subject to such and such a danger, when it is nothing so ; how fit are they then to judge of things removed from sense, as of their spiritual estate in Christ ? II. Causes privative, of discouragement in ourselves. 1. To come to causes more near the soul itself, as when there is want of that which should be in it, as of knowledge in the understanding, &c. Ignor- ance, being darkness, is full of false fears. In the night time men think every bush a thief. Our forefathers in time of ignorance were frighted with everything ; therefore it is the pohcy of popish tyrants, taught them from the prince of darkness, to keep the people in darkness, that so they might make them fearful, and then abuse that fearfulness to superstition ; that they might the better rule in their consciences for their own ends ; and that so having entangled them with false fears, they might heal them again with false* cures. 2. Again, though the soul be not ignorant, yet if it he forgetful andmindUss, if, as the apostle saith, ' you have forgot the consolation that speaks unto you,' &c., Heb. xii. 5. We have no more present actual comfort than we have remembrance ; help a godly man's memory, and help his comfort ; like unto charcoal, which, having once been kindled, is the more easy to take fijre. He that hath formerly known things, takes ready acquaintance of them again, as old friends ; things are not strange to liim. 3. Aid further, ivant of setting due price U2oon comforts ; as the Israelites were taxed for setting nothing by the pleasant land. It is a great fault when, as they said to Job, ' the consolation of the Almighty seem light and small unto us,' Job xv. 11, unless we have some outward comfort which we linger after. 4. Add unto this, a childish kind of peevishness ; when they have not what they would have, like children, they throw away all ; which, though it be very offensive to God's Spirit, yet it seizeth often upon men othei^wise gracious. Abraham himself, wanting children. Gen. sv. 2, undervalued all other blessings. Jonah, because he was crossed of his gourd, was weary of his life. The Hke may be said of Elias, flying from Jezebel, This peevish- ness is increased by a too much flattering of their grief, so far as to justify * ' Falso ' is misprinted ' safe ' in A and B, ' False.' the correction, is from C. THE soul's conflict. 137 it ; like Jonas, * I do well to be angry even unto death,' Jonah iv. 9 ; he would stand to it. Some, with Kachel, are so peremptory, that they ' will not be comforted,' Jer. xxxi. 15, as if they were in love with their griev- ances. Wilful men are most vexed in their crosses. It is not for those to be wilful that have not a great measm-e of wisdom to guide their wills ; for God delights to have his will of those that are wedded to their own wills, as in Pharaoh. No men more subject to discontentments than those who would have all things after their own way. 5. Again, one maiu gi'ound is, false reasoniuff, and error in our discourse, as that we have no grace when we feel none. Feeling is not always a fit rule to judge our states by, that God hath rejected us, because we are crossed in outward things, whenas this issues from God's wisdom and love. How many imagine their failings to be fallings, and theii* fallings to be fallings away ; infii'mities to be presumptions ; every sin against conscience, to be the sin against the Holy Ghost ; unto which misapprehensions, weak and dark spirits are subject. And Satan, as a cunning rhetorician, here en- largeth the fancy, to apprehend things bigger than they are. Satan abuseth confident spirits another contrary way ; to apprehend gi'eat sins as little, and little as none. Some also think that they have no grace, because they have not so much as grown Christians ; whereas there be several ages ia Christ. Some, again, are so desu'ous and enlarged after what they have not, that they mind not what they have. Men may be rich, though they have no millions, and be not emperors. 6. Likewise, some are much troubled, because they proceed by a false method and order in judging of their estates. They will begin with election, which is the highest step of the ladder ; whereas they should begin from a work of grace wrought within their hearts, fi'om God's caUing them by his Spirit, and their answer to his call, and so raise themselves upwards to know their election by their answer to God's caUing. * Give all dihgence,' saith Peter, * to make your calling and election sm'e,' 2 Pet. i. 10, your election by your caEing. God descends down unto us from election to calling, and so to sanctification ; we must ascend to him, beginning where he ends. Otherwise it is as gi'eat folly as in removing of a pile of wood, to begin at the lowest fii-st, and so, besides the needless trouble, to be in dan- ger to have the rest to fall upon om- heads. Which, besides ignorance, argues pride, appearing in this, that they would bring God to theh conceits, and be at an end of their work before they begin. This great secret of God's eternal love to us in Christ is hidden in his breast, and doth not appear to us, until in the use of means God by his Spii'it discovereth the same unto us ; the Spirit letteth into the soul so much life and sense of God's love in particular to us, as draweth the soul to Christ, fi-om whom it draweth so much vhtue as changeth the frame of it, and quickeneth it to duty, which duties are not grounds of our state in grace, but issues, springing fi-om a good state before ; and thus far they help us in judging of our condition, that though they be not to be rested in, yet as streams they lead us to the spring-head of grace fi'om whence they arise. And of signs, some be more apt to deceive us, as being not so certain, as ' delight and joy in hearing the word,' Mat. xiii. 20, as appeareth in the thii'd ground ; some are more constant and certain, as love to those that are truly good, and to all such, and because they are such, &c. These as they are wrought by the Spirit, so the same Sphit giveth evidence to the sold of the truth of them, and leadeth us to faith from whence they come, 138 THE soul's conflict. and faitli leads us to the discovery of God's love made known to us in hear- ing the word opened. The same Spirit openeth the truth to us, and our understandings to conceive of it, and our hearts to close with it by faith, not only as a truth, but as a truth belonging to us. Now this faith is manifested, either by itself reflecting upon itself the light of faith, discovering both itself and other things, or by the cause of it, or by the effect, or by all. Faith is oft more known to us in the fruit of it, than in itself, as in plants, the fruits are more apparent than the sap and root. But the most settled knowledge is from the cause, as when I know I believe, because in hearing God's gracious promises opened and oifered unto me, the Spirit of God cameth my soul to cleave to them as mine own portion, Eph. i. 13. Yet the most familiar way of knowledge of our estates is fi.-om the effects to gather the cause, the cause being oftentimes more remote and spiritual, the effects more obvious and visible. All the vigour and beauty in nature which we see, comes from a secret influence from the heavens which we see not ; in a clear morning we may see the beams of the sun shining upon the top of hills and houses before we can see the sun itself. Things in the working of them, do issue from the cause, by whose force they had theii* being ; but our knowing of things ariseth from the effect, where the cause endeth. We know God must love us before we can love him, and yet we oft fii'st know that we love him, 1 John iv. 19 ; the love of God is the cause why we love our brother, and yet we know we love our brother whom we see more clearly, than God whom we do not see, ver. 20. It is a spiritual peevishness that keeps men in a perplexed condition, that they neglect these helps to judge of their estates by, whereas God takes Hberty to help us sometime to a discovery of our estate by the effects, some- times by the cause, &c. And it is a sia to set light by any work of the Spii'it, and the comfort we might have by it, and therefore we may well add this as one cause of disquietness in many, that they gi'ieve the Spirit, by quarrelling against themselves and the work of the Spirit in them. 7. Another cause of disquiet is, that men by a natural kind of popery seek for their comfort too much sanctificatlon, neglecting justification, relying too much upon tliefr own performances. St Paul was of another mind, accoimting all but dung and dross, compared to the righteousness of Christ, Philip, iii. 8, 9. This is that garment, wherewith being decked, we please our husband, and wherein we get the blessing. This giveth satisfaction to the conscience, as satisfying God himself, being performed by God the Son, and approved therefore by God the Father. Hereupon the soul is quieted, and faith holdeth out this as a shield against the displeasure of God and temptations of Satan. Why did the apostles in their prefaces join grace and peace together,* but that we should seek for our peace in the free grace and favour of God in Chi-ist ? No wonder why papists maintain doubting, who hold salvation by works, because Satan joining together with our consciences will always find some flaw even in our best performances ; hereupon the doubting and misgiving soul comes to make this absurd demand, as. Who shall ascend to heaven ? Ps. xxiv. 3, which is all one as to fetch Christ from heaven, and so bring him down to suffer on the cross again. Whereas if we believe in Christ we are as sure to come to heaven as Christ is there. Christ ascending and * Grace and peace. See 1 Cor. i. 3 ; 2 Cor. i. 2 ; Gal. i. 3 ; Epli. 1, 2 ; 1 Peter .2; Rev. i. 4, &c., &c.— G. THE soul's conflict. 139 descending, with all that he hath done, is ours. So that neither height nor depth can sepai'ate us fi'om God's love in Chiist, Rom. viii. 39. But we must remember, though the main pillar of our comfort be in the free forgiveness of our sins, yet if there be a neglect in gi-owing in holiness, the soul ^vill never be soundly quiet, because it will be prone to question thg truth of justification, and it is as proper for sin to raise doubts and fears in the conscience, as for rotten flesh and wood to breed worms. 8. And therefore we may well join this as a cause of disquietncss, the neglect of keeping a clear conscience. Sin, like Achan, or Jonah in the ship, is that which causeth storms withia and without. Where there is not a pure con- science, there is not a pacified conscience ; and therefore though some, thinking to save themselves whole in justification, neglect the cleansing of their natm-es and ordering of their Hves, yet in time of temptation they wiU find it more troublesome than they think. For a conscience guUty of many neglects, and of allowing itself in any sin, to lay claim to God's mercy, is to do as we see mountebanks sometimes do, who wound their flesh to tiy conclusions upon their own bodies, how sovereign the salve is ; yet oftentimes they come to feel the smart of their presumption, by long and desperate wounds. So God win let us see what it is to make wounds to trx the preciousness of his balm ; such may go mourning to their graves. And though, perhaps, with much wi'estling with God they may get assurance of the pardon of their sins, yet their conscience will be still trembling, like-as David's, though Nathan had pronounced unto him the forgiveness of his sin, Ps. li., till God at length speaks farther peace, even as the water of the sea after a storm is not presently still, but moves and trembles a good while after the storm is over. A Christian is a new creatm-e and walketh by rule, and so far as he walketh according to his rule, peace is upon him, Gal. vi. 16, Loose walkers that regard not their way, must think to meet with sorrows instead of peace. "Watchfulness is the preserver of peace. It is a deep sphitual judgment to find peace in an ill way. 9. Some again reap the fruit of their ignorance of Christian lihcrtg, by un- necessaiy scruples and doubts. It is both unthankfulness to God and wrong to oui'selves, to be ignorant of the extent of Christian liberty. It makes melody to Satan to see Chiistians troubled with that they neither should or need. Yet there is danger in stretching Christian liberty be- yond the bounds. For a man may condemn himself in that he approves, as in not walking circumspectly in regard of chcumstances, and so breed his own disquiet, and give scandal to others. 10. Sometimes also, God sufiers men to bo disquieted ^ox want of employ- vient, who, in shunning labour, procure trouble to themselves ; and by not doing that which is needful, they are troubled with that which is unnecessaiy. An unemployed life is a burden to itself. God is a pure act, always working, always doing ; and the nearer our soul comes to God, the more it is in action and the fi-eer from disquiet. Men experimentally feel that comfort, in doing that which belongs unto them, which before they longed for and went without ; a heart not exercised in some honest labour works trouble out of itself. 11. Again, omission of duties and offices of love often troubles the peace of good people ; for even in time of death, when they look for peace and desire it most, then looking back upon their former failings, and seeing opportunity of doing good wanting to their desire (the parties perhaps being deceased to whom they owed more respect), are hereupon much disquieted, and so much the more because they see now hope of the like advantages cut off. 140 THE soul's conflict. A Christian life is full of duties, and the peace of it is not maintained without much fruitfulness and looking about us. Debt is a disquieting thing to an honest mind, and duty is debt. Hereupon the apostle layeth the charge, ' that we should owe nothing to any man but love,' Rom. xiii. 8. 12. Again, one special cause of too much disquiet is, icant of firm resolution in good tilings. The soul cannot but be disquieted when it knows not what to cleave unto, like a ship tossed with contrary winds. Halting is a deformed and troublesome gesture ; so halting in religion is not only troublesome to others and odious, but also disquiets ourselves. * If God be God, cleave to him,' 1 Kings xviii. 21. If the duties of religion be such as will bring peace of conscience at the length, be religious to purpose, practise them in the particular passages of life. We should labour to have a clear judgment, and from thence a resolved purpose ; a wavering-minded man is incon- sistent in all his ways, James i. 6. God will not speak peace to a stagger- ing spirit that hath always its religion and its way to choose. Uncertain men are always unquiet men : and giving too much way to passion maketh men in particular consultations unsettled. This is the reason why, in par- ticular cases, when the matter concerns ourselves, we cannot judge so clearly as in general truths, because Satan raiseth a mist between us and the matter in question. m. Positive causes. May be, 1. When men lay up their comfort too much on outivard things, which, being subject to much inconstancy and change, breed disquiet. Vexation always follows vanity, when vanity is not apprehended to be where it is. In that measure we are cast down in the disappointing of our hopes, as we were too much lifted up in expectation of good fi'om them. Whence proceed these complaints : Such a friend hath failed me ; I never thought to have fallen into this condition ; I had settled my joy in this child, in this friend, &c. But this is to build om* comfort upon things that have no firm foundation, to build castles in the air, as we use to say. Therefore it is a good desire of the wise man Agur to desire God ' to remove from us vanity and lies,' Prov. xxx. 8 ; that is, a vain and false apprehension pitch- ing upon things that are vain and lying, promising that* contentment to ourselves from the creature which it cannot yield. Confidence in vain things makes a vain heart, the heart becoming of the nature of the thing it relies on. We may say of all earthly things as the prophet speaketh, ' here is not our rest,' Mic. ii. 10. It is no wonder, therefore, that worldly men are oft cast down and dis- quieted, when they walk in a vain shadow, Ps. xxxix. 6, as hkewise that men given much to recreations should be subject to passionate distempers, because here, things fall out otherwise than they looked for ; recreations being about matters that are variable, which especially falls out in games of hazard, wherein they oft spare not divine providence itself, but break out into blasphemy. Likewise men that grasp more businesses than they can discharge, must needs bear both the blame and the grief of losing or marring many busi- nesses, it being almost impossible to do many things so well as to give content to conscience ; hence it is that covetous and busy men trouble both their hearts and their houses. Though some men, from a largeness of parts and a special dexterity in afi'airs, may tm-n over much, yet the most capa- cious heart hath its measure, and when the cup is fuU, a little drop may * ' a,' in C. THE SOUL S CONFLICT. 141 cause the rest to spill. There is a spiritual suifeit, when the soul is over- charged -with business ; it is fit the soul should have its meet bui'den and no more. 2. As likewise, those that depend too much ^ipon the opinions of other men. A very little matter will refresh, and then again discourage, a mind that rests too much upon the liking of others — Sic leve sic parvum est animum quod laudis avarum, subruit aut rejicit. Men that seek themselves too much abroad, find themselves disquieted at home. Even good men many times are too much troubled with the unjust censures of other men, specially in the day of their trouble. It was Job's case ; and it is a heavy thing to have affliction added to affliction. It was Hannah's case, who, being troubled in spirit, was censured by EH for distemper in brain, 1 Sam. i. 14 ; but for vain men who Uve more to reputation than to conscience, it cannot be that they should long enjoy settled quiet, because those ui whose good opinion they desire to dwell, are ready often to take up contrary conceits upon slender grounds. 3. It is also a ground of overmuch trouble, when we look too much and too long upon the ill in ourselves and abroad. We may fix our eyes too long even upon sin itself, considering that we have not only a remedy against the hmi by sin, but a commandment to rejoice always in the Lord, Phihp, iv. 4. Much more may we err in poring too much upon om- afflictions ; wherein we may find always in om'selves upon search, a cause to justify God, and always something left to comfort us ; though we natm\illy mind more one cross than a hundred favours, dwelling over long upon the sore. So hkewise, our minds may be too much taken up in consideration of the miseries of the times at home and abroad, as if Christ did not rule in the midst of his enemies, and would not help aU in due time ; or as if the con- dition of the church in this world were not for the most part in an afflicted and conflicted condition. Indeed there is a perfect rest both for the souls and bodies of God's people, but that b ot in this world, but is kept for hereafter ; here we are in a sea, where what can we look for but stomis ? To insist upon no more, one cause is, that we do usurp upon God, and take his office upon us, by troubling ourselves in forecasting the event of things, whereas our work is only to do our work and be quiet, as children when they please their parents take no further thought ; our trouble is the fruit of our foUy in this kind. Use 1. That which we should observe from all that hath been said is, that we be not over hasty in censuring others, when we see their spirits out of temper, for we see how many things there are that work strongly upon the weak nature of man. We may sin more by harsh censure than they by overmuch distemper ; as, in Job's case, it was a matter rather of just grief and pity, than great wonder or heavy censure. Use 2. And, for ourselves, if our estate be calm for the present, yet we should labour to prepare our hearts, not only for an alteration of estate, but of spirit, unless we be marvellous careful beforehand, that our spirits fall not down with our condition. And if it befalls us to find it othen\ise with our souls than at other times, we should so far labour to bear it, as that we do not judge it our own case alone, when we see here David thus to com- plain of himself, ' Why art thou cast down, my soul ? ' &c. 142 THE soul's conflict. Chaptee IV. — Of casting down ourselves, and specialhj by sorrow — evils thereof. To return again to the words, * Why art thou cast down, my soul ?' &c., or. Why dost thou cast down thyself?' or. Art cast down by thyself? Ohs. 1. "Whence we may further observe, that we are prone to cast down ourselves, we are accessory to our own trouble, and weave the web of our own sorrow, and hamper ourselves in the cords of our own twining. God neither loves nor wills that we should be too much cast down. We see our Saviour Christ, how careful he was that his disciples should not be troubled, and therefore he labours to prevent that trouble which might arise by his suffering and departure from them, by a heavenly sermon ; ' Let not your hearts be troubled,' &c., John xiv. 1. He was troubled himself that we should not be troubled. The ground, therefore, of our disquiet is chiefly from ourselves, though Satan will have a hand in it. We see many, like sullen birds in a cage, beat themselves to death. This casting down of our- selves is not from humility, but fi'om pride ; we must have om- will, or God shall not have a good look from us, but as pettish and peevish children, we hang our heads in our bosom, because our wills are crossed. Use. Therefore, in all our troubles we should look first home to our own hearts, and stop the storm there ; for we may thank our own selves, not only for our troubles, but likewise for overmuch troubling oui'selves in trouble. It was not the troubled condition that so disquieted Da\dd's soul, for if he had had a quiet mind, it woidd not have troubled him. But David yielded to the discouragements of the flesh, and the flesh, so far as it is un- subdued, is like the sea that is always casting mu'e and dii-t of doubts, dis- com-agements, and murmm'ings in the soul ; let us, therefore, lay the blame where it is to be laid. Ohs. 2. Again, we see, it is the nature of sorrow to cast down, as of joy to lift up. Grief is like lead to the soul, hea\7' and cold ; it sinks down- wards, and carries the soul with it. The poor publican, to shew that his soul was cast down under the sight of his sins, hung down his head, Luke xviii. 13 ; the position of his body was suitable to the disposition of his mind, his heart and head were cast down alike. And it is Satan's practice to go over the hedge where it is lowest ; he adds more weights to the soul by his temptations and vexations. His sin cast him out of heaven, and by his temptations he cast us out of our paradise, and ever since, he labours to cast us deeper into sin, wherein his scope is, to cast us either into too much trouble for sin, or presumption in sin, which is but a hfting up, to cast us down into deep despair at length, and so at last, if God's mercy stop not his malice, he wiU cast us as low as himself, even into heU itself. Reason. The ground hereof is because, as the joy of the Lord doth strengthen, so doth sorrow weaken the soul. How doth it weaken ? 1 . By weakening the execution of the functions thereof, because it drinketh up the spirits, which are the instruments of the soul. 2. Because it contracteth, and draweth the soul into itself from com- munion of that comfort it might have with God or man. And then the soul being left alone, if it falleth, hath none to raise it up, Eccl. iv. 10. Use. Therefore, if we will prevent casting down, let us prevent giief the cause of it, and sin the cause of that. Experience proves that true which the wise man says, ' Heaviness in the heart of a man makes it stoop, but a good word makes it better,' Prov. xii. 25. It bows do^vn the soul, and therefiore THE soul's conflict. ' 143 our blessed Saviour invite th such unto him, * Come unto mc, ye who are heavy laden with the bui-den of yom- sins,' Matt. xi. 28. The body bends under a heavy burden, so like'^'ise the soul hath its burden, ' Y\Tiy art thou cast down, my soul ? why so disquieted ?' &c. Obs. 3. Whence we see, 1, that casting down breeds disquieting : because it springs from pride, which is a turbulent passion, whenas men cannot stoop to that condition which God would have them in ; this proceeds from discontentment, and that fi'om pride. As we see a vapour enclosed in a cloud causeth a terrible noise of thunder, whilst it is pent up there, and seeketh a vent ; so aU the noise within proceeds from a discontented swell- ing vapoiu*. It is air enclosed in the bowels of the earth which shakes it, which all the fom- winds cannot do. No creature under heaven so low cast down as Satan, none more hfted up in pride, none so fuU of discord. The impurest spuits ai'e the most disquiet and stormy spirits, troublesome to themselves and othei'S ; for when the soul leaves God once, and looks downwards, what is there to stay it from disquiet ? Remove the needle from the pole-star, and it is always stirring and trembling, never quiet till it be right again. So, displace the soul by taking it from God, and it will never be quiet. The devil cast out of heaven and out of the church, keeps ado ; so do unruly spuits led by him. Now I come to the remedies. , 1. By expostulation icith himself, Why art, &c. 2. By laying a charge upon himself, Trust in God. Trust in God. It is supposed here, that there is no reason, which the wisdom from above allowB to be a reason, why men should be discouraged; although the wisdom from beneath, which takes part -R-ith our coiTuption, win seldom want a plea. Nay, there is not only no reason for it, but there are strong reasons against it, there being a world of evil in it. For, 1. It indisposes a man to all good duties, it makes him like an instru- ment out of tune, and like a body out of joint, that moveth both uncomely and painfully. It unfits to duties to God, who loves a cheerful giver, and especially a thanksgiver. WTiereupon the apostle joins them both together, ' In all things be thankful, and rejoice evermore,' 1 Thess. v. 17, 18. lu our communion with God in the sacraments, joy is a chief ingi-edient. So in duties to men, if the spirit be dejected, they are unwelcome, and lose the greatest part of their Ufe and grace ; a cheerful and a free spirit in duty is that which is most accepted in duty. We observe not so much what, as from what affection a thing is done. 2. It is a great wrong to God himself, and it makes us conceive black thoughts of him, as if he were an enemy. What an iujuiy is it to a gracious father that such whom he hath followed with many gracious CAidences of his favour and love should be in so ill a frame as once to call it into question ! 3. So it malies a man forgetful of all former blessings, and stops the in- fluence of God's grace for the time present and for that to come. 4. So, again, for receiving of good, it makes us unfit to receive mercies. A quiet soul is the seat of wisdom ; therefore, meekness is required for the receiving of that ' engrafted word which is able to save our souls,' James i. 21. Till the Spirit of God meekens the soul, say what you will, it minds nothing ; the soul is not empty and quiet enough to receive the seed of the word. It is ill sowing in a storm ; so a stormy spirit will not sufier the word to take place. Men are deceived when they think a dejected spirit to be an humble spirit. Indeed, it is so when we are cast down in the 144 THE soul's conflict. sense of our own unworthiness, and then as much raised up in the confi- dence of God's mercy. But when we cast ourselves down sullenly, and neglect our comforts, or undervalue them, it proceeds from pride ; for it controls, as much as in us lies, the wisdom and justice of God, when we think with ourselves, Why should it be so with us ? as if we were wiser to dispose of ourselves than God is. It disposeth us for entertaining any temptation. Satan hath never more advantage than upon discontent. 5. Besides, it keeps off beginners from coming in, and entering into the ways of God, bringing an ill report upon religion, causing men to charge it falsely for an uncomfortable way, whenas men never feel what true comfort meaneth till they give up themselves to God. And it damps, likewise, the spirits of those that walk the same way with us, whenas we should, as good travellers, cheer up one another both by word and example. In such a case the wheels of the soul are taken off, or else, as it were, want oil, whereby the soul passeth on very heavily, and no good action comes off from it as it should, which breeds not only uncomfortableness, but un- settledness in good courses. For a man will never go on comfortably and constantly in that which he heavily undertakes. That is the reason why uncheerful spirits seldom hold out as they should. St Peter knew this well, and therefore he willeth that there should be * quietness and peace betwixt husband and wife, that their prayers be not hindered,' ]. Pet. iii. 7, insinuating that their prayers are hindered by family breaches ; for by that means those two that should be one flesh and spirit are divided, and so made two, and when they should mind duty their mind is taken up with wrongs done by the one to the other. There is nothing more required for the performing of holy duties than uniting of spirits, and therefore God would not have the sacrifice brought to the altar before reconciliation with our brother. Matt. v. 24. He esteems peace so highly, that he wiU have his own service stay for it. We see when Moses came to deliver the Israelites out of bondage, Exod. ix., their mind was so taken up with their grief that there was nobody within to give Moses an answer ; their souls went altogether after their ill usage. Use. Therefore, we should all endeavour and labour for a calmed spirit, that we may the better serve God in praying to him and praising of him ; and serve one another in love, that we may be fitted to do and receive good, that we may make our passage to heaven more easy and cheerful,' without drooping and hanging the wing. So much as we are quiet and cheerful upon good gi'ounds, so much we live, and are, as it were, in heaven. So much as we jaeld to discouragement, we lose so much of our life and hap- piness, cheerfulness being, as it were, that life of our lives and the spirit of our spirits by which they are more enlarged to receive happiness and to express it. Chapter V. — Remedies of casting down • to cite tlie soul, and press it to give an account. Ohs. 1, But to come to some helps : First, in that he expostulates with himself, we may observe that one way to raise a dejected soul is to cite it before itself, and, as it were, to reason the case. God hath set up a court in man's heart, wherein the conscience hath the office both of informer, accuser, witness, and judge ; and if matters were well carried within ourselves, this prejudging would be a prevention THE soul's conflict. 145 of future judging. It is a great mercy of God that tlie credit aud comfort of mau ai'e so provided for that he may take up matters iu himseU", and so prevent public disgrace. But if there be not a fair dispatch and transac- tion in this inferior coui't withiu us, there will be a review in a higher coui-t. Therefore, by slubbering over oui' matters we put God aud oui'selves to more trouble than needs. For a judgment must pass, fii'st or last, either within us or without us, upon all unwarrantable distempers. We must not only be ready to give an account of our faith, upon what grounds we be- lieve ; but of aU our actions, upon what grounds we do what we do ; and of our passions, upon what grounds we are passionate ; as in a well-governed state, uproar and sedition is never stii'red, but account must be given. Now in a mutiny, the presence and speech of a venerable man composeth the minds of the disordered multitude ; so likewise in a mutiny of the spiiit, the authority that God hath put into reason, as a beam of himself, com- mands silence, and puts all in order again. Reason. And there is good reason for it, for man is an understanding creature, and hath a rule given him to Uve by, and therefore is to be countable of eveiy thought, word, action, passion. Therefore the fii-st way to quiet the soul, is, to ask a reason of the tumult raised, and then many of our distempers for shame will not appear, because though they rage iu silent darkness, yet they can say nothing for themselves, being summoned before strength of judgment and reason. Which is the reason why pas- sionate men are loth that any court should be kept within them ; but labour to stop judgment all they can. If men would but give themselves leave to consider better of it, they would never yield to such unreasonable motions of the soul ; if they could but gain so much of their unruly passions, as to reason the matter within themselves, to hear what their consciences can tell them in secret, there would not be such oflensive breakings out. And there- fore, if we be ashamed to hear others upbraiding us, let us for shame hear om'selves ; and if no reason can be given, what an unreasonable thing is it for a man endowed with reason to coutrarj'' his own principles ! and to be carried as a beast without reason ; or if there be any reason to be given, then this is the way to scan it, see whether it will hold water or not. We shall find some reasons, if they may be so called, to be so corrupt and foul, that if the judgment be not corrupted by them, they dare not be brought to light, but always appear under some colour and pretext ; for sin, like the devil, is afraid to appear in its own likeness, and men seek out fair glosses for foul intentions. The hidden, secret reason is one, the open is another; the heart being corrupt sets the wit awork, to satisfy corrupt will ; such kind of men are afraid of their own consciences, as Ahab of Micaiah, 1 Ivings xxii. 16, because they fear it would deal truly with them ; and therefore they take either present order for their consciences, or else, as Felix put oil' Paul, Acts xxiv. 25, they adjourn the court for another time. Such men are strangers at home, afraid of nothing more than themselves, and there- fore in a fearftd condition, because they are reserved for the judgment of the great day, if God doth not before that set upon them in this world. If men, carried away with thefr own lusts, would give but a Uttle check, and stop themselves in their posting to hell, and ask. What have I done ? What am I now about ? Whither will this course tend ? How will it end '? &c., un- doubtedly men would begin to be wise. Would the blasphemer give away his soul for nothing (for there is no engagement of profit or pleasure in this as in other sins, but it issues merely out of in-everence, and a supeiiiuity of profaneness), would he, I say, draw so heavy a guilt upon himself for no- VOL. I. K 146 THE soul's conflict, thing, if he would but make use of his reason ? Would an old man, when he is veiy near his journey's end, make longer provision for a short way, if he would ask himself a reason ? But, indeed, covetousness is an unreason- able vice. If those also of the younger sort would ask of themselves, why God should not have the flower and maiTow of their age ? and why they should give their strength to the devil ? it might a little take them oiF from the devil's service. But sin is a work of darkness, and therefore shuns not only the light of grace, but even the light of reason. Yet sin seldom wants a seeming reason. Men will not go to hell without a show of reason. But such be sophistical fallacies, not reasons ; and, therefore, sinners are said to play the sophisters with themselves. Satan could not deceive us, imless we deceived ourselves first, and are willingly deceived. Wilful sinners are blind, because they put out the light of reason, and so think God, like them- selves, blind too, Ps. 1. 21, and, therefore, they are deservedly termed mad- men and fools ; for, did they but make use of that spark of reason, it would teach them to reason thus : I cannot give an account of my ways to myself; what account shall I, or can I, give then to the Judge of aU flesh ere it be long. And as it is a ground of repentance in stopping our coui'se to ask, What have I done ? so likewise of faith and new obedience, to ask, What shall I do for the time to come ? and then upon settling, the soul in way of thanks will be ready to ask of itself, ' What shall I return to the Lord '? ' &c. So that the soul, by this dealing with itself, promoteth itself to all holy duties tiU it come to heaven. 1. The reason why we are thus backward to the keeping of this court in ourselves is self-love. We love to flatter om* own affections, but this self- love is but self-hatred in the end. As the wise man says, he that regards not this part of wisdom, * hates his own soul, and shall eat the fruits of his own ways,' Prov. i. 31. 2. As likewise it issues from an irksomeness of labour, which makes us rather willing to seem base and vile to ourselves and others, than to take pains with our own hearts to be better, as those that are weaiy of holding the reins give them up unto the horse neck, and so are driven whither the rage of the horse carrieth them. Sparing a little trouble at first, doubles it in the end ; as he who will not take the pains to cast up his books, his books will cast up him in the end. It is a blessed trouble that brings sound and long peace. This labour saves God a labour, for therefore he judgeth us, because we would not take pains with oui'selves before, 1 Cor. xi. 31. 3. And pride also, with a desire of liberty, makes men think it to be a diminishing of greatness and freedom either to be curbed, or to curb our- selves. We love to be absolute and independent ; but this, as it brought ruin upon our nature in Adam, so it will upon our persons. Men, as Luther was wont to say, are bom with a pope in their belly, they are loath to give an account, altlaough it be to themselves, their wills are, instead of a kingdom to them, mens mihi pro regno. Let us, therefore, when any lawless passions begin to stir, deal with our souls as God did with Jonah, ' Docst thou well to be angry ?' Jonah iv. 4, to fret thus. This will bo a means to make us quiet ; for, alas ! what weak reasons have we often of strong motions. Such a man gave me no respect, such another looked more kindly upon another man than upon me, :'tc. You have some of Haman's spirit, Esth. v. 13, that for a little neglect THE soul's conflict. 147 would ruin a -whole nation. Passion presents men that are innocent as gailtj io us, facit ira nocentes ; and because we will not seem to be mad without reason, pride commands the wit to justify anger, and so one passion maintains and feeds another. Obs. 2. Neither is it sufficient io cite the soul before itself; hut it must be j)rcssecl to give an account, as we see here David doubles and trebles the expostulation ; as oft as any distemper did arise, so oft did he labour to keep it down. If passions gi*ow too insolent, Eli's mildness will do no good, 1 Sam. ii. 24. It would prevent much trouble in this kind to subdue betimes, in ourselves and others, the first beginnings of any unruly passions and afiections ; which, if they be not well tutored and disciplined at the first, prove as headstrong, um'uly, and ill nurtm-ed chikken, who, being not chastened in time, take such a head, that it is oft above the power of pai'ents to bring them in order. A child set at liberty, saith Solomon, 'breeds shame, at length, to his parents,' Prov. sxix. 15. Adonijah's example shews this. The hke may be said of the affections set at hberty ; it is dangerous to redeem a httle quiet by yielding to our afiections, which is never safely gotten but by mortification of them. Those that are in great place are most in danger, by yielding to them- selves, to lose themselves ; for they are so taken up with the person for a time put upon them, that they, both in look and speech and carriage, often shew that they forget both theii' natural condition as men, and much more their supematui'al as Chi-istians ; and therefore are scarce counselable by others or themselves in those things that concern their severed condition, that concerneth another world. Whereas it were most wisdom so to think of theu" place they bear, whereby they are called gods, Ps. Ixxxii. 6, 7, as not to forget they must lay their person aside, and ' die like men,' 2 Sam. xxiv. 4. David himself that in his afflicted condition could ad-^dse with him- self, and check himself, yet in his free and flourishing estate neglected the counsel of his friends. Agur was in jealousy of a full condition, and lest instead of saying, what have I done? why am I thus cast Ao\m, &c., he should say, ' Who is the Lord ?' Prov. xxx. 9. Meaner men in then* lesser sphere often shew what their spirits would be, if their compass were enlarged. It is a great fault in breeding youth, for fear of taking down of their spirits, not to take down their pride, and get victory of their afiections : w^hereas a proud unbroken heart raiseth us more trouble often than all the world beside. Of all troubles, the trouble of a proud heart is the gi'eatest. It was a great trouble to Haman to lead Mordecai's horse, Esth. ^•i. 1, which another man would not have thought so ; the moving of a straw is trouble- some to proud flesh. And therefore it is good to ' bear the yoke from our youth,' Lam. iii. 27 ; it is better to be taken down in youth, than to be broken in pieces by great crosses in age. First or last, self-denial and victory over om'selves is absolutely necessary ; otherwise faith, which is a grace that requireth self-denial, will never be brought into the soul, and bear rule there. Quest. But, what if pressing upon our souls will not help ? Ans. Then speak to God, to Jesus Christ by prayer, that as he rebuked the winds and the waves, and went upon the sea, so he would walk upon our souls, and command a calm there. It is no less power to settle a peace in the soul, than to command the seas to be quiet. It is God's prerogative to rule in the heart, as likewise to give it up to itself, which, next to hell is the greatest judgment ; which shoiild draw us to the greater reverence 148 THE soul's conflict. and fear of displeasing God. It was no ill wish of him,* that desired God to free him from an ill man, himself. Vomine, libera me a malo homine, meipso. Chapter VI. — Other observations of the same nature. Obs. 3. Moreover we see that a godly vian can cast a restraint upon him- self, as David here stays himself in falling. There is a principle of grace, that stops the heart, and pulls in the reins again when the affections are loose. A carnal man, when he begins to be cast down, sinks lower and lower, until he sinks into despair, as lead sinks into the bottom of the sea. ' They sunk, they sunk, like lead in the mighty waters,' Exod. xv. 5. A carnal man sinks as a heavy body to the centre of the earth, and stays not if it be not stopped : there is nothing in him to stay him in falling, as we see in Ahithophel and Saul, 2 Sam. xvii. 23, who, wanting a support, found no other stay but the sword's point. And the greater their parts and places are, the more they entangle themselves ; and no wonder, for they are to encounter with God and his deputy, conscience, who is King of kings, and Lord of lords. When Cain was cast out of his father's house, his heart and countenance was always cast down, for he had nothing in him to lift it up- wards. But a godly man, though he may give a little way to passion, yet, as David, he recovers himself. Therefore as we would have any good evi- dence that we have a better spirit in us than our own, gi-eater than the flesh or the world, let us, in all troubles we meet with, gather up ourselves, that the stream of our own affections carry us not away too far. There is an art or skill of bearing troubles, if we could learn it, without overmuch troubling of ourselves, as in bearing of a burden there is a way so to poise it that it weigheth not over heavy : if it hangs all on one side, it poises the body down. The greater part of our troubles we puU upon ourselves, by not parting our care so, as to take upon us only the care of duty, and leave the rest to God ; and by mingUng our passions with our crosses, and like a foolish patient, chewing the pills which we should swallow down. We dwell too much upon the grief, when we should remove the soul higher. We are nearest neighbours unto ourselves. When we suffer grief, like a canker, to eat into the soul, and like a fire in the bones, to consume the marrow and drink up the spirits, we are accessory to the wrong done both to our bodies and souls : we waste our own candle, and put out our Hght. Obs. 4. We see here again, that a godly man can make a good use of privacy. When he is forced to be alone he can talk with his God and him- self ; one reason whereof is, that his heart is a treasury and stoi'ehouse of divine truths, whence he can speak to himself, by way of check, or encour- agement of himself : he hath a Spirit over his own spirit, to teach him to make use of that store he hath laid up in his heart. The Spirit is never nearer him than when by way of witness to his spirit he is thus comforted ; wherein the child of God differs from another man, who cannot endure solitariness, because his heart is empty ; he was a stranger to God before, and God is a stranger to him now, so that he cannot go to God as a friend. And for his conscience, that is ready to speak to him that which he is loth to hear : and therefore ho counts himself a torment to himself, especially in privacy. Wo read of great princes, who after some bloody designs were as temblo * Augustine. — Ed. THE soul's conflict. 149 to themselves,* as they were formerly to others, and therefore conlcl never endui-e to be awaked in the night, without music or some like diversion. It may be, we may be east into such a condition, where we have none in the world to comfort us ; as in contagious sickness, when none may come near us, we may be in such an estate wherein no fi'iend will own us. And therefore let us labom* now to be acquainted with God and our own hearts, and acquaint our hearts with the comforts of the Holy Ghost ; then, though we have not so much as a book to look on, or a friend to talk with, yet we may look with comfort into the book of om* own heart, and read what God hath written there by the finger of his Spirit. All books are written to amend this one book of our heart and conscience. Ideo scrihuntur omnes lihri, nt emendeturunus. By this means we shall never want a di^dne to comfort us, a physician to cure us, a counsellor to direct us, a musician to cheer us, a controller to check us, because, by help of the word and Spirit, we can be all these to ourselves. Ohs. 5. Another thing we see here, that God hath made every man a governor over JumseJf. The poor man, that hath none to govern, yet may he be a king in himself. It is the natural ambition of man's heart to desire government, as we see in the bramble. Judges ix. Well then, let us make use of this disposition to rule ourselves. Absalom had high thoughts. 0, if I were a king, I would do so and so ! so our hearts are ready to promise, if I were as such and such a man in such and such a place, I would do this and that. But how dost thou manage thine own affections ? How dost thou rule in thine house, in thyself? Do not passions get the upper hand, and keep reason under foot ? When we have learned to rule over our own spirits well, then we may be fit to rule over others. ' He that is faithful in a little, shall be set over more,' Matt. xxv. 21. ' He that can govern himself,' in the wise man's judgment, ' is better than he that can govern a city,' Prov. xvi. 32. He that cannot, is like a city without a wall, where those that are in may go out, and the enemies without may come in at their pleasure. So where there is not a government set up, there sin breaks out, and Satan breaks in without control. Obs. 6. See again, the excellency of the soul, that can reflect upon itself, and judge of ivhatsoever comes from it. A godly man's care and trouble is especially about his soul, as David here looks principally to that, because all outward troubles are for to help that. When God touches our bodies, our estates, or our friends, he aims at the soul in all. God will never remove his hand, till something be wi'ought upon the soul, as ' David's moistm'e was as the drought in summer,' Ps. xxxii. 4, so that he roared, and carried himself unseemly for so great and holy a man, till his heart was subdued to deal without all guile with God in confessing his sin ; and then God forgave him the iniquity thereof, and healed his body too. In sickness, or in any other trouble, it is best the divine should be before the physician, and that men begin where God begins. In great fires, men look first to their jewels, and then to their lumber ; so oiu' soul is our best jewel. A carnal, worldly man is called, and well caUed, a fleshly man, because his very soul is flesh, and there is nothing but the world in him. And therefore, when all is not well within, he cries out, My body is troubled, my state is broken, my fi-iends fail me, &c. ; but aU this while, there is no care for the poor soul, to settle a peace in that. * As Charles IX. after the massacre in France. Thuamis, lib, 57. Somnum post p.asiim SanbartholomsBum noctiirni horrores plerumque interrumpebant et rursus adhibiti symphoniaci espergefacto conciliabant. 1 50 THE soul's conflict. The possession of the soul is the richest possession, no jewel so precious. The account for our own souls, and the souls of others, is the greatest account, and therefore the care of souls should be the greatest care. What an indignity is it, that we should forget such souls to satisfy our lusts ! to have our wills ! to be vexed with any, who by their judgment, example, or authority, stop, as we suppose, our courses ! Is it not the greatest plot in the world, first, to have their lusts satisfied ; secondly, to remove, either by fraud or violence, whatsoever standeth in their way ; and, thirdly, to put colours and pretences upon this to delude the world and themselves, employing all their carnal wit and worldly strength for their carnal aims, and fighting for that which fights against their own souls ? For, what will be the issue of this but certain destruction ? Of this mind are not only the dregs of people, but many of the more refined sort, who desire to be eminent in the world ; and to have their own desires herein, give up the liberty of their own judgments and consciences to the desires and lusts of others. To be above others, they will be beneath themselves, having those men's persons in admiration for hope of advantage, whom otherwise they despise ; and so, substituting in their spirits man in the place of God, lose heaven for earth, and bury that divine spark, their souls, capable of the divine nature, and fitter to be a sanctuary and temple for God to dwell in, than by closing with baser things to become base itself. We need not wonder that others seem base to carnal men, who are base both in and to themselves. It is no wonder they should be cruel to the souls of others, who are cruel to their own souls ; that they should neglect and starve others, that give away their own souls in a manner for nothing. Alas ! upon what poor terms do they hazard that, the natiu"e and worth whereof is beyond man's reach to comprehend ! Many are so careless in this kind, that if they were thoroughly persuaded that they had souls that should live for ever, either in bliss or torment, we might the more easily work upon them. But as they live by sense, as beasts, so they have no more thoughts of future times than beasts, except at such times as con- science is awaked by some sudden judgment, whereby God's wrath is revealed from heaven against them. But happy were it for them, if they might die like beasts, whose misery dies with them. To such an estate hath sin brought the soul, that it willingly drowneth itself in the senses, and becomes, in some sort, incarnate with the flesh. We should therefore set ourselves to have most care of that, which God cares most for, which he breathed into us at first, set his own image upon, gave so great a price for, and values above all the world besides. Shall all our study be to satisfy the desires of the flesh, and neglect this ? Is it not a vanity to prefer the casket before the jewel, the shell before the pearl, the gilded potsherd before the treasure ? and is it not much more vanity to prefer the outward condition before the inward ? The soul is that which Satan and his hath most spite at, for in troubling our bodies or estates, he aims at the vexation of our souls. As in Job (ch. i.) his aim was to abuse that power God had given him over his children, body, and goods, to make him, out of a disquieted spirit, blaspheme God. It is an ill method to begin our care in other things, and neglect the soul, as Ahithophel, who set his house in order, when he should have set his soul in order first, 2 Sam. xvii. 23. Wisdom begins at the right end. If all be well at home, it comforts a man, though he meets with troubles abroad. Oh, saith he, I shall have rest at home ; I have a loving wife and dutiful children : so whatsoever we meet withal abroad, if the soul be quiet, thither we can THE soul's conflict. 151 retire witli comfort. See that all be weU witliin, and tlien all troubles from without cannot much annoy us. Grace will teach us to reason thus — God hath given mine enemies power over my liberty and condition, but shall they have power and libei-ty over my spirit ? It is that which Satan and they most seek for ; but never yield, my soul ! and thus a godly man will become more than a con- queror ; when in appearance he is conquered, the cause prevails, his spirit prevails, and is undaunted. A Christian is not subdued till his sphit is subdued. Thus Job prevailed over Satan and all his troubles, at length. This tormenteth proud persons, to see godly men enjoy a calm and resolute frame of mind in the midst of troubles ; when their enemies are more troubled in troubling them, than they are in being troubled by them. Obs. 7. We see Hkewise here, how to frame our complaints. David com- plains not of God, nor of his troubles, nor of others, but of his o-svn soul; he complains of himself to himself, as if he should say. Though all things else be out of order, yet, my soul, thou shouldst not trouble me too, thou shouldst not betray thj'self unto troubles, but rule over them. A godly man complains to God, yet not of God, but of himself. A carnal man is ready to justify himself and complain of God, he complains not to God, but of God, at the least, in secret murmuring, he complains of others that are but God's vials ; he complains of the grievance that lies upon him, but never regards what is amiss in himself within ; openly he cries out upon fortune, yet secretly he striketh at God, under that idol of fortune, by whose guidance all things come to pass ; whilst he quarrels with that which is nothing, he wounds him that is the cause of all things ; like a gouty man that complains of his shoe, and of his bed, or an aguish man of his drink, when the cause is from within. So men are disquieted with others, when they should rather be disquieted and angiy with theii* own hearts. We condemn Jonah for contending with God, and justifying his unjust anger, but yet the same risings are in men naturally, if shame would suffer them to give vent to their secret discontent ; their heart speaks what Jonah his tongue spake. Oh ! but here we should lay our hand upon our mouth, and adore God, and command silence to our souls. No man is hurt but by himself first. We are drawoi to evil, and allured from a true good to a false by our own lusts, ' God tempts no man,' James i. 13. Satan hath no power over us further than we willingly lie open to him. Satan works upon our affections, and then our affections work upon our will. He doth not work immediately upon the will. We may thank ourselves in willingly yielding to our own passions, for all that ill Satan or his instruments draws us unto. Saul was not vexed with an evil spirit, 1 Sam. xvi., till he gave way to his own evil spiiit of envy first. The devil entered not into Judas, Mat. xx\ii. 3, until his covetous heart made way for him. The apostle strengtheneth his conceit against rash and lasting anger from hence, that by this we give way to the devil, Eph. iv. 27. It is a dangerous thing to pass from God's government, and come under Satan's. Satan mlngleth himself with our own passions, therefore we should blame ourselves first, be ashamed of ourselves most, and judge ourselves most severely. But self-love teacheth us a contrary method, to translate all upon others ; it robs us of a right judgment of om-selves. Though we desii'e to know all diseases of the body by thefr proper names, yet we will conceive of sinful passions of the soul under milder terms ; as lust under love, rage under just anger, mm-muring under just displeasure, &c. Thus 152 THE soul's conflict. whilst we flatter our grief, what hope of cure ! Thus sin hath not only made all the creatures enemies to us, hut ourselves the greatest enemies to ourselves ; and therefore we should begin our complaints against ourselves, and discuss ourselves thoroughly. How else shall we judge truly of other things without us, above us, or beneath us ? The sun when it rises, enlightens first the nearest places, and then the more remote ; so where true light is set up, it discovers v/hat is amiss within first. Ohs. 8. Hence also we see, that as in all discouragements a godly man hath most twiddle u'ith his own lieart, so he knows how to carry himself therein, as David doth here. For the better clearing of this, we must know there be divers kinds and degrees of conflicts in the soul of man whilst it is united to the body. 1. First, between one corrupt passion and another, as between covetous- ness and pride ; pride calls for expense, covetousness for restraint. Oft passions fight not only against God and reason, to which they owe a homage, but one against another ; sin fights against sin, and a lesser sin is oftentimes overcome by a greater. The soul in this case is like the sea tossed with contrary winds : and like a kingdom divided, wherein the subjects fight both against their prince, and one against another. 2. Secondly, there is a natural conflict in the affections, whereby nature seeks to preserve itself, as betwixt anger and fear ; anger calls for revenge, fear of the law binds the soul to be quiet. We see in the creatures, fear makes them abstain from that which theii' appetites carry them unto. A wolf comes to the* flock with an eagerness to prey upon it, but seeing the shepherd standing in defence of his sheep, retui'ns and doth no harm ; and yet for all this, as he came a wolf, so he returns a wolf. A natm-al man may oppose some sin fi'om an obstinate resolution against it,f not fi'om any love of God, or hatred of sin, as sin, but because he con- ceives it a brave thing to have his will ; as one hard weapon may strike at another, as a stone wall may beat back an arrow. But this opposition is not from a contrariety of nature, as is betwixt fire and water. 3. Thirdly, there is a conflict of a higher nature, as between some sins and the light of reason helped by a natural conscience. The heathen could reason from the dignity of the soul, to count it a base thing to prostitute themselves to beastly lusts, so as it were degrading and unmanning ,them- selves. Major sum et ad majoranatus qxiam ut corporis mei sim mancipium. (Seneca, Ep. 65). Natural men, desirous to maintain a great opinion of them- selves, and to awe the inferior sort by gravity of deportment in carriage, -nill abstain from that which otherwise their hearts carry them unto, lest yielding should render them despised, by laying themselves too much open ; as be- cause passion discovers a fool as he is, and makes a wise man thought meaner than he is ; therefore a prudent man will conceal his passion. Reason refined and raised by education, example, and custom, doth break in some degree the force of natm-al corruption, and brings into the soul, as it were, another nature, and yet no true change ; as we see in such as have been inured to good com'scs, they feel conscience checking them upon the fii'st discontinuance and altex'ation of their former good ways, but this is tisuall}'' from a former impression of their breedmg, as the boat moves some little time upon the water by virtue of the former stroke ; yet at length we see corruption prevailing over education, as in Jehoash, who was awed by the * ' A,'inO. t 'A natural .... lovo. In A reads, ' a natural man may oppose an obstinate resolution to commit some sin not from love.' Corrected in B as above. — G. THE soul's conflict. 153 reverent respect he bare to his uncle Jehoiada, he was good ' all his uncle's days,' 2 Kings xii. 2. And in Nero, in whom the goodness of his educa- tion prevailed over the fierceness of his natm-e, for the first five years [a). 4. Fourthly, but in the church, where there shineth a light above nature, as there is a discovery of more sins, and some strength, with the light to perform more duty ; so there is a farther conflict than in a man that hath no better than natm-e in him. By a discovery of the excellent things of the gospel, there may be some kind of joy stirred up, and some degree of obedience : whence there may be some degree of resistance against the sins of the gospel, as obstinate unbelief, desperation, profaneness, &Ci A man in the church may do more than another out of the church, by reason of the enlargement of his knowledge ; whereupon such cannot sin at so easy a rate as others that know less, and, therefore, meet with less opposition from conscience. 5. Fifthly, There is yet a further degree of conflict betwixt the sanctified powers of the soul and the flesh, not only as it is seated in the baser parts, but even in the best faculties of the soul, and as it mingles itself with every gracious performance : as in David, there is not only a conflict be- tween sin and conscience, enlightened by a common work of the Spii-it ; but between the commanding powers of the soul sanctified, and itself un- sanctified, between reasons of the flesh and reasons of the Spuit, between faith and distrust, between the true light of knowledge and false light. For it is no question but the flesh would play its part in David, and muster up all the strength of reason it had. And usually flesh, as it is more ancient than the spirit, we being first natm-al, then spu-itual, so it will put itself first forward in devising shifts, as Esau comes out of the womb first before Jacob, Gen. xxv. 25 ; yet hereby the spirit is stirred up to a present examination and resistance, and in resisting, as we see here, at length the godly gets the victory. As in the conflict between the higher parts of the soul with the lower, it clearly appears that the soul doth not rise out of the temper of the body, but is a more noble substance, commanding the body by reasons fetched from its own worth ; so in this spiritual conflict, it appears there is something better than the soul itself, that hath superiority over it. Chapter VII. — Difference lettreen r/ood men and others in conflicts with sin. Quest. But how doth it appear that this combat in David was a spiritual combat / Ans. 1. First, A natural conscience is troubled for sins against the light of nature only, but David for inward and secret corruptions, as discourage- ment and disquietness arising from faint-trusting in God. David's conflict was not only with the sensual, lower part of his soul, which is carried to ease and quiet and love of present things, but he was troubled with a mutiny in his understanding between faith and distrust ; and therefore he was forced to rouse up his soul so oft to trust in God ; which shews that carnal reason did solicit him to discontent, and had many colourable reasons for it. 2. Secondly, A man endued with common grace is rather a j^icitient than an agent in conflicts; the light troubles him against his will, as discovering and reproving him, and hindering his sinful contentments ; his heart is more biassed another way if the light woidd let him ; but a godly man labom's to help the light, and to work his heai't to an opposition against 154 THE soul's conflict. sin ; he is an agent as well as a patient. As David here doth not suffer disquieting, but is disquieted with himself for being so. A godly man is an agent in opposing his corruption, and a patient in enduring of it, whereas a natural man is a secret agent in and for his corruptions, and a patient in regard of any help against them ; a good man suffers evil and doth good, a natm-al man suffers good and doth evil. 3. Thirdly, A conscience guided by common light withstands distempers most by outward means; but David here fetcheth help from the Spirit of God in him, and from trust in God. Nature works from within, so doth the new nature. David is not only something disquieted, and something troubled for being disquieted, but sets himself thoroughly against hia distempers ; he complains and expostulates, he censures and chargeth his soul. The other, if he doth anything at all, yet it is faintly ; he seeks out his corruption as a coward doth his enemy, loath to find him, and more loath to encounter him. 4. Fourthly, David withstands sin constantly, and gets ground. We see here he gives not over at the first, but presseth again and again. Nature works constantly, so doth the new nature. The conflict in the other is something forced, as taking part with the worser side in himself; good things have a weak, or rather no party in him, bad things a strong ; and therefore he soon gives over in this holy quarrel. 5. Fifthly, TJavid is not discouraged by his foils,* but sets himself afresh aqainst his corruptions, uith confidence to bring them binder. Whereas he that hath but a common work of the Spirit, after some foils, lets his enemy prevail more and more, and so despairs of victory, and thinks it better to sit stiU than to rise and take a new fall ; by which means his latter end is worse than his beginning ; for beginning in the spirit, he ends in the flesh. A godly man, although upon some foil, he may for a time be dis- couraged, yet by holy indignation against sin he renews his force, and sets afresh upon his corruptions, and gathers more strength by his falls, and groweth into more acquaintance with his own heart and Satan's mahce, and God's strange ways in bringing hght out of darkness. 6. Sixthly, An ordinary Christian may be disquieted for being disquieted, as David was, but then it is only as disquiet hath vexation in it; but David here striveth against the unquietness of his spirit, not only as it brought vexation with it, but as it hindered communion uith his God. In sin there is not only a guilt binding over the soul to God's judgment, and thereupon filling the soul with inward fears and terrors ; but in sin likewise there is — 1, A contrariety to God's holy nature; and, 2, A con- trariety to the divine nature and image stamped upon ourselves ; 3, A weakening and disabling of the soul from good ; and, 4, A hindering of our former communion with God, sin being in its nature a leaving of God, the fountain of all strength and comfort, and cleaving to the creature. Hereupon the soul, having tasted the sweetness of God before, is now grieved, and this grief is not only for the guilt and trouble that sin draws after it, but from an inward antipathy and contrariety betwixt the sanctified soul and sin. It hates sin as sin, as the only bane and poison of renewed nature, and the only thing that breeds strangeness betwixt God and the soul. And this hatred is not so much from discourse and strength of reason, as from nature itself rising presently against its enemy ; the lamb presently shuns the wolf from a contrariety : antipathies wait not for any strong reason, but are exercised upon the first presence of a contrary object. - * That is, ' defeats.' — Ed. THE soul's conflict. 155 7. Seventhly, Hereupon ariseth the last difference, that because the soul hateth sin as sin, therefore it opposeth it universally and eternally, in all the powers of the soul; and in all actions, inicard and outivard, issuing from those powers. David regarded no iniquity in his heart, but hated every evil way, Ps. Ixvi. 18 ; the desires of his soul were, that it might be so directed that he might keep God's law, Ps. cxix. 5. And if there had been no binding law, yet there was such a sweet sympathy and agi'eement betwixt his sovd and God's truth, that he delighted in it above all natural sweetness ; hence it is that St John saith, ' He that is bom of God cannot sin,' 1 John iii. 9 ; that is, so far forth as he is born of God, his new natui-e will not suffer him ; he cannot lie, he cannot deceive, he cannot be earthly-minded, he cannot but love and delight in the persons and things that are good. There is not only a light in the understanding, but a new life in the will, and all other faculties of a godly man ; what good his knowledge dis- covereth, that his wiU makes choice of, and his heart loveth ; what iU his understanding discovers, that his will hateth and abstains from. But in a man not thoroughly converted, the will and affections are bent otherwise ; he loves not the good he doth, nor hates the evil he doth not. Use. Therefore let us make a narrow search into our souls upon what grounds we oppose sin, and fight God's battles. A common Chi'istian is not cast down because he is disquieted in God's service, or for his inward failings that he cannot serve God with that liberty and freedom he desires, &c. But a godly man is troubled for his distempers, because they hinder the comfortable intercourse betwixt God and his soul, and that spkitual composedness and sabbath of spirit, which he enjoyed before, and desires to enjoy again. He is troubled that the waters of his soul are troubled so that the image of Christ shines not in him as it did before. It grieves hitn to find an abatement in affection, in love to God, a distraction or coldness in performing duties, any doubting of God's favour, any discouragement from duty, &c. A godly man's comforts and gi'ievances are hid fi'om the world ; natural men are strangers to them. Let this be a rule of discern- ing our estates, how we stand affected to the distempers of our hearts ; if we find them troublesome, it is a ground of comfort unto us that our spirits are ruled by a higher Spirit ; and that there is a principle of that life in us, which cannot brook the most secret corruption, but rather casts it out by a holy complaint, as strength of natm-e doth poison, which seeks its destruction. And let us be in love with that work of gi-ace in us, which makes us out of love with the least stu-rings that hinder om* best condition. Obs. 9. See again. We may be sinfully disquieted for that ivhich is not a sin to be disquieted for. David had sinned if he had not been somewhat troubled for the banishment from God's house, and the blasphemy of the enemies of the church ; but yet, we see, he stops himself, and shai-ply takes up his soul for being disquieted. He did well in being disquieted, and in checking himself for the same ; there were good grounds for both. He had wanted spiritual life if he had not been disquieted, [but] he abated the vigour and hveliness of his life by being overmuch disquieted. Chapter "VlH. — Of unfittinff dejection, and when it is excessive. And what is the right temper of the soul herein. Quest. § I. Then, how shall we know when a man is cast down and disquieted^ otherwise than is befitting ? 156 THE soul's conflict. Am. There is a threefold miscarriage of inward trouble. 1. When the soul is troubled for that it should not be vexed for, as Ahab, when he was crossed in his will for Naboth's vineyard, 1 Kings xxi. 1, 2, seq. . 2. In the ground, as when we grieve for that which is good, and for that which we should grieve for ; but it is with too much reflecting upon our own particular. As in the troubles of the state or church, we ought to be affected ; but not because these troubles hinder any liberties of the flesh, and restrain pride of life, but from higher respects ; as that, by these troubles God is dishonoured, the public exercises of religion hindered, and the gathering of souls thereby stopped, as the states and commonwealths, which should be harbours of the church, are disturbed, as lawless courses and persons pre- vail, as religion and justice are triumphed over and trodden under. Men usually are gi'ieved for public miseries from a spirit of self-love only, be- cause their own private is embarked in the public. There is a depth of deceit of the heart in this matter. 3. So for the measiire, when we trouble ourselves, though not without cause, yet without bounds. The spirit of man is like unto moist elements, as air and water, which have no bounds of their own to contain them in, but those of the vessel that keeps them. Water is spilt and lost without something to hold it, so it is with the spirit of man, unless it be bounded with the Spirit of God. Put the case, a man be disquieted for sin, for which not to be disquieted is a sin, yet we may look too much, and too long upon it ; for the soul hath a double eye, one to look to sin, another to look up to God's mercy in Christ. Having two objects to look on, we may sin in looking too much on the one, with neglect of the other. Quest. § II. Seeing then, disquieting and dejection for sin is necessary, fiow shall we know ivhen it exceeds measure ? Ans. 1. First, u^hen it hinders us from holy duties, or in the performance of them, by distraction or otherwise ; whereas they are given to carry us to that which is pleasing to God, and good to ourselves. Grief is ill when it taketh ofi' the soul from minding that it should, and so indisposeth us to the duties of our callings. Christ upon the cross was gi'ieved to the utmost, yet it did not take away his care for his mother, John xix. 26, 27 : so the good thief, Luke xxiii. 42, in the midst of his pangs laboured to gain his fellow, and to save his own soul, and to glorify Christ. If this be so in grief of body, which taketh away the free use of reason and exercise of grace more than any other giief, then much more in grief from more remote causes ; for in extremity of body the sickness may be such as all that we can perform to God is a quiet submission and a desire to be carried unto Christ by the prayers of others ; we should so mind our grief as not to forget God's mercy, or our own duty. 2. Secondly, when ive forget the grounds of comfort, and suffer our mind to run only upon the present grievance. It is a sin to dwell on sin and turmoil our thoughts about it, when we are called to thankfulness. A physician in good discretion forbids a dish at some times to prevent the nourishment of some disease, which another time he gives way unto. So we may and ought to abstain from too much feeding our thoughts upon our corruptions in case of discouragement, which at other times is very neces- sary. It should be our wisdom in such cases to change the object, and THE soul's conflict. 157 labour to take off our minds, and give them to that which calls more for them. Grief oft passeth unseasonably upon us, when there is cause of joy, and when we are called to joy ; as Joab justly found fault with David for grieving too much, when God had given him the victoiy, and rid him and the state of a traitorous son, 2 Sam. xix, 5,seq. God hath made some days for joy, and joy is the proper work of those days. * This is the day which the Lord hath made,' Ps. cxviii, 24. Some in a sick distemper desire that which increaseth their sickness ; so some that are deeply cast down, desire a weakening* ministry, and whatever may cast them down more, whereas they should meditate upon comforts, and get some sweet assurance of God's love. Joy is the constant temper which the soul should be in. ' Rejoice evermore,' 1 Thes. v. IG, saith the apostle. If a sink be stirred, we stir it not more, but go into a sweeter room. So we should think of that which is comfortable, and of such truths as may raise up the soul, and sweeten the spmt. 3. Thirdly, Grief is too much, tvhen it inclines the soul to any inconvenient courses: for if it be not looked to, it is an ill counsellor, when either it hurts the health of our bodies, or draws the soul, for to ease itself, to some unlaw- ful liberty. When grief keeps such a noise in the soul, that it will not hear what the messengers of God, or the still voice of the Spirit saith. As in combustions, loud cries are scarce heard, so in such cases the soul will neither hear itself nor others. The fruit of this overmuch trouble of spirit is increase of trouble. Quest. § in. Another question maybe. What that siveet and holy temper is the soul should be in, that it may neither be faulty in the defect, nor too much abound in grief and sorrow ? Ans. 1. The soul must be raised to a right grief. 2. The grief that is raised, though it be right, yet it must be bounded. Before we speak of raising grief in the godly, we must know there are some who are altogether strangers to any kind of spiritual grief or trouble at all ; such must consider, that the way to prevent everlasting trouble, is to desire to be troubled with a preventing trouble. Let those that are not in the way of grace think with themselves what cause they have not to take a minute's rest while they are in that estate. For a man to be in debt both body and soul, subject every minute to be arrested and carried prisoner to hell, and not to be moved ; for a man to have the wrath of God ready to be poured out upon him, and hell gape for him, nay, to carry a hell about him in con- science, if it were awake, and to have all his comfort here hanging upon a weak thread of this life, ready to be cut and broken off every moment, and to be cursed in all those blessings that he enjoys ; and yet not to be dis- quieted, but continually treasurmg up wrath against the day of wrath, by running deeper into God's books : for a man to be thus, and not to be dis- quieted, is but the devil's peace, whilst the strong man holds possession. A burning ague is more hopeful than a lethargy. The best service that can be done to such men, is to startle and rouse them, and so with violence to pull them out of the fire, as Jude speaks, ver. 23, or else they will another day curse that cruel mercy that lets them alone now. In all their jolhty in this world, they are but as a book fairly bound, which when it is opened is fall of nothing but tragedies. So when the book of their con- sciences shall be once opened, there is nothing to be read but lamentations and woes. Such men were in a way of hope, if they had but so much * ' Weakening.' In A and B ' wakening,' but corrected in C as above. 158 THE soul's conflict. apprehension of their estates, as to ask themselves, * What have I done ?' If this be true that there are such fearful things prepared for sinners, why am I not cast down ? why am I no more troubled and discouraged for my ■wicked courses ? Despair to such is the beginning of comfort ; and trouble the beginning of peace, A storm is the way to a calm, and hell the way to heaven. (1.) But for raising of a right grief in the soul of a holy man, look what is the state of the soul in itself, in what terms it is with God : whether there be any sin hanging on the file {b) unrepented of. If all be not well within us, then here is place for inward trouble, whereby the soul may afflict itself. God saw this grief so needful for his people, that he appointed certain days for afflicting them, Lev. xvi. 29 ; because it is fit that sin contracted by joy should be dissolved by grief; and sin is so deeply invested into the soul, that a separation betwixt the soul and it cannot be vrrought without much grief. When the soul hath smarted for sin, it sets then the right price upon reconciliation with God in Christ, and it feelcth what a bitter thing sin is, and therefore it will be afraid to be too bold with it afterward; it likewise aweth the heart so, that it will not be so loose towards God as it was before ; and certainly that soul that hath felt the sweetness of keeping peace with God, cannot but take deeply to heart, that there should be any ithing in us that should divide betwixt us and the fountain of our comfort, that should stop the passage of our prayers and the current of God's favours both towards ourselves and others ; it is such an ill as is the cause of aU other ill, and damps all our comforts. (2.) We should look out of ourselves also, considering whether for troubles at home and abroad, God calls not to mourning or troubling of ourselves ; gi-ief of compassion is as well required as grief of contrition. It is a dead member that is not sensible of the state of the body. Jeremiah, for fear he should not weep enough for the distressed state of the church, deshed of God, ' that his eyes might be made a fountain of tears,' Jer. ix. 1. A Christian, as he must not be proud flesh, so neither must he be dead flesh ; none more truly sensible either of sin or of misery, so far as misery carries with it any sign of God's displeasure, than a true Christian ; which issues from the life of gi-ace, which, where it is in any measm-e, is lively, and therefore sensible ; for God gives motion and senses for the preserva- tion of life. As God's bowels are tender towards us, so God's people have tender bowels towards him, his cause, his people, and his chm-ch. The fruit of this sensibleness, is earnest prayer to God. As Melancthon said well. If I cared for nothing, I would pray for nothing, Si tiil curarem nil orareni.'^- Grief being thus raised, must, as we said before, be bounded and guided. (1.) God hath framed the soul, and planted such affections in it, as may answer all his dealing tovv'ards his children ; that when he enlargeth himself towards them, then the soul should enlarge itself to him again ; when he opens his hand, we ought to open our hearts ; when he shews any token of displeasure, we should grieve ; when he troubles us, we should trouble and • grieve ourselves. As God any way discovereth himself, so the soul should be in a suitable pliablcness. Then the soul is as it should be, when it is ready to meet God at every turn, to joy when he calls for it, to mourn when he calls for that, to labour to know God's meaning in every thing. * Melanctlion. . . . The following is tlie cxAct saying :— * Ad alium, qui a curls cum dchortaLatur : ^\ nihil, m(\\\\t, curarem, nihil orarem.' — Dicta Melauclhonis, in his Life iu Mclcbior Adam's \ita;Gurm. Theolog. ed. Frankfort, 1053, ix 358. — G. THE soul's conflict. 159 (2.) Again, God hath made the soul for a communion with himself, which communion is especially placed ia the affections, which are the springs of all spiritual worship. Then the affections are well ordered, when we are fit to have communion with God, to love, joy, trust, to dehght in him above all things. The affections are the inward movings of the soul, which then move best when they move us to God, not from him. They are the feet of the soul, whereby we walk with, and before God. When we have our affections at such command, that we can take them off from any thing in the world, at such times as we are to have more neai* communion with God in hearing or prayer, &c., as Abraham when he was to saciifice left whatsoever might hinder him at the ' bottom of the mount,' Gen. xxii. 5. "When we let our affections so far into the things of the world, as we cannot taken them off when we are to deal with God, it is a sign of spiritual intemperancy. It is said of the Israehtes that they brought Egypt with them into the wilder- ness ; so many bring the world into then- hearts with them when they come before God. (3.) But because our affections are never well-ordered without judgment, as being to follow, not to lead, it is an evidence that the soul is in a fit temper, when there is such a harmony in it, as that we judge of things as they are, and affect as we judge, and execute as we affect. This haiTaony within breeds uniformity and constancy in our resolutions, so that there is, as it were, an even thread drawn through the whole com'se and tenor of our hves, when we are not off' and on, up and down. It argues an ill state of body when it is very hot, or very cold, or hot in one part, and cold in an- other ; so unevenness of spirit argues a distemper. A wise man's hfe is of one colour, like itself. The soul bred from heaven, so far as it is heavenly- minded, desires to be, like heaven, above all storms, uniform, constant ; not as things under the sun, which are always in changes, constant only in inconstancy. Affections are as it were the wind of the soul, and then the soul is carried as it should be, when it is neither so becalmed that it moves not when it should, nor yet tossed with tempests to move disorderly ; when it is so well balanced that it is neither lift up nor cast down too much, but keepeth a steady coui'se. Our affections must not rise to become unruly passions, for then as a river that overfloweth the banks, they carry much slime and soil with them. Though affections be the wind of the soul, yet imruly passions are the storms of the soul, and will overturn all, if they be not suppressed. The best, as we see in David here, if they do not steer their hearts aright, are in danger of sudden gusts. A Christian must neither be a dead sea, nor a raging sea. (4.) Our affections are then in best temper, when they become so many graces of the Spuit, as when love is turned to a love of God, joy, to a de- light in the best things, fear, to a fear of offending him more than any creature, son-ow, to a sorrow for sin, &c. (5.) They are hkewise in good temper, when they move' us to all duties of love and mercy towards others ; when they are not shut where they should be open, nor open where they should be shut. Yet there is one case where exceeding affection is not over-exceeding, as in an ecstasy of zeal upon a sudden apprehension of God's dishonour, and his cause trodden under foot. It is better in this case, rather scarce to be our own men, than to be calm or quiet. It is said of Christ and David, that their hearts were eaten up with aholy zeal for God's house, Ps. Ixix. 9, cxix. 139, Isa. hx. 19. In such a case, Moses, unparalleled for meekness, was tm'ned into a holy rage, Exod. xxxii. 19. The gi-eatness of tie provocation, the 160 THE soul's conflict. excellency of the object, and the weight of the occasion, bears out the soul, not only without blame, but with great praise, in such seeming distempers. It is the gloiy of a Christian to be carried with full sail, and as it were with a spring-tide of affection. So long as the stream of affection runneth in the due channel, and if there be great occasions for great motions, then it is fit the affections should rise higher, as to burn with zeal, to be ' sick of love,' Cant. ii. 5., to be more vile for the Lord, as David, 2 Sam. vi. 22, to be counted out of our wits, 2 Car. v. 13, with St Paul, to further the cause of Christ and the good of souls. Thus we may see the life of a poor Christian in this world. 1. He is in great danger, if he be not troubled at all. 2. When he is troubled, he is in danger to be over- troubled. 3. When he hath brought his soul in tune again, he is subject to new troubles. Betwixt this ebbing and flowing there is very little quiet. Now because this cannot be done without a gi'eat measure of God's Spirit, our help is to make use of that promise of giving ' the Holy Ghost to them that ask it,' John. xi. 13. To teach us when, how long, and how much to grieve ; and when, and how long, and how much to rejoice, the Spirit must teach the heart this, who as he moved upon the waters before the creation, so he must move upon the waters of our souls, for we have not the command of our own hearts. Eveiy natural man is carried away with his flesh and humours, upon which the devil rides, apd carries him whither he list ; he hath no better counsellors than flesh and blood, and Satan counselling with them. But a godly man is not a slave to his carnal affections, but as David here, labours to bring into captivity the first motions of sin in his heart. Chapter IX. — Of the souVs disquiets, God's dealings, and power to contain ourselves in order. Ohs. 1. Moreover we see, that the soid hath disquiets proper to itself, be- sides those griefs of sympathy that arise from the body ; for here the soul complains of the soul itself, as when it is out of the body it hath torments and joys of its own. And if those troubles of the soul be not well cured, then by way of fellowship and redundance they will affect the outward man, and so the whole man shall be enwrapt in misery. Obs. 2. From whence we further see, that God, when he will humble a man, need not fetch forces from ivithout. If he let but our own hearts loose, we shall have trouble and work enough, though we were as holy as David ; God did not only exercise him with a rebellious son out of his own loins, but with rebellious risings out of his own heart. If there were no enemy in the world, nor devil in hell, we caiTy that within us, that, if it be let loose, will trouble us more than all the world besides. Oh that the proud creature should exalt himself against God, and ran into a voluntary course of provoking him, who can not only raise the humours of our bodies against us, but the passions of our minds also to torment us ! Therefore it is the best wisdom not to provoke the great God, for ' are we stronger than he,' 1 Cor. X. 22, that can raise ourselves against ourselves? and work wonders not only in the great Avorld, but also in the little world, our souls and bodies, when he pleases? Obs. 3. We see likewise hence a necessity of having something in the soid above itself. It must be partaker of a diviner nature than itself; otherwise, when the most refined part of our souls, the very spu-it of oui* minds, is out of THE SOUL S CONFLICT. 161 frame, what shall bring it in again ? Therefore we must conceive in a godly man, a double self, one which must be denied, the other which must deny ; one that breeds aU the disquiet, and another that stilleth what the other hath raised. The way to still the soul, as it is under om* corrupt self, is not to parley with it, and divide government for peace sake, as if we should gratify the flesh in something, to redeem liberty to the spirit in other things ; for we shall find the flesh will be too encroaching. We must strive against it, not with subtlety and discourse, so much as with peremp- tory violence silence it and vex it. An enemy that parleys will yield at length. Grace is nothing else but that blessed power, whereby as spiritual we gain upon ourselves as carnal. Holy love is that which we gain of self- love ; and so joy, and delight, &c. Grace labours to win ground of the old man, until at length it be all in all ; indeed we are never ourselves perfectly, till we have wholly put off ourselves ; nothing should be at a greater dis- tance to us than ourselves. This is the reason why carnal men, that have no- thing above themselves but their corrupt self, sink in great troubles, having nothing within to uphold them, whereas a good man is wiser than himself, holier than himself, stronger than himself ; there is something in him more than a man. There be evils that the spirit of man alone, out of the good- ness of nature, cannot bear ; but the spirit of man, assisted with an higher Spirit, will support and carry him through. It is a good trial of a man's condition to know what he esteems to be himself. A godly man counts the inner man, the sanctified part, to be himself, whereby he stands in re- lation to Christ and a better life. Another man esteems his contentment in the world, the satisfaction of his carnal desires, the respect he finds from men by reason of his parts, or something without him, that he is master of; this he counts himself, and by this he values himself, and to this he makes his best thoughts and endeavours serviceable : and of crosses in these things he is most sensible, and so sensible, that he thinks himself undone if he seeth not a present issue out of them. That which most troubles a good man in all troubles is himself, so far as he is unsubdued ; he is more disquieted with himself than with all ti'oubles out of himself ; when he hath gotten the better once of himself, whatsoever falls from without is light. Where the spirit is enlarged, it cares not much for outward bondage ; where the spirit is lightsome, it cares not much for outward darkness ; where the spirit is settled, it cares not much for out- ward changes ; where the spirit is one with itself, it cannot* bear outward breaches ; where the spirit is sound, it can bear outwai'd sickness. Nothing can be very ill with us, when all is well within. This is the comfort of a holy man, that though he be troubled with himself, yet by reason of the spirit in him, which is his better self, he works out by degrees whatever is contrary, as spring-water, being clear of itself, works itself clean, though it be troubled by something cast in, as the sea will endure no poisonful thing, but casts it upon the shore. But a carnal man is like a spring corrupted, that cannot work itself clear, because it is wholly tainted ; his eye and Hght is darkness, and therefore no wonder if he seeth nothing. Sin lieth upon his understanding, and hinders the knowledge of itself; it lies close upon the will, and hinders the striving against itself. True self that is worth the owning, is when a man is taken into a higher condition, and made one with Christ, and esteems neither of himself nor others, as happy for anything according to the flesh. 1. He is imder the law and government of the Spirit, and so far as he is himself, works accord- *• Qu. ' can ? ' — Ed, VOL. I. I. 162 THE soul's conflict. ing to that principle. 2, He labours more and more to be transformed into the likeness of Christ, in whom he esteemeth that he hath his best being. 3. He esteems of all things that befall him, to be good or ill, as they fur- ther or hinder his best condition. If all be well for that, he counts himself well, whatsoever else befalls him. Another man, when he doth anything that is good, acts not his own part ; but a godly man, when he doth good, is in his proper element; what another man doth for by-ends and reasons, that he doth from a new nature, which, if there were no law to compel, yet would move him to that which is pleasing to Christ. If he be drawn aside by passion or temptation, that he judgeth not to be himself, but taketh a holy revenge on himself for it, as being redeemed and taken out from himself; he thinks himself no debtor, nor to owe any service to his corrupt self. That which he plots and projects and works for is, that Christ may rule everywhere, and especially in himself, for he is not his own but Christ's, and therefore desires to be more and more emptied of himself, that Christ might be all in all in him. Thus we see what great use there is of dealing with ourselves, for the better composing and settling of our souls. Which, though it be a course- without glory and ostentation in the world, as causing a man to retire in- wardly into his own breast, having no other witness but God and himself ; and though it be likewise irksome to the flesh, as calling the soul home to itself, being desirous naturally to wander abroad and be a stranger at home ; yet it is a course both good in itself, and makes the soul good. For by this means the judgment is exercised and rectified, the will and affections ordered, the whole man put into an holy frame fit for every good action. By this the tree is made good, and the fruit cannot but be answer- able ; by this the soul itself is set in tune, whence there is a pleasant harmony in our whole conversation. Without this, we may do that which is outwardly good to others, but we can never be good ourselves. The first justice begins within, when there is a due subjection of all the powers, of the soul to the spirit, as sanctified and guided by God's Spirit ; when justice and order is fii'st established in the soul, it will appear from thence in all our deaUngs. He that is at peace in himself, will be peaceable to others, peaceable in his family, peaceable in the church, peaceable in the state. The soul of a wicked man is in perpetual sedition ; being always troubled in itself, it is no wonder if it be troublesome to others. Unity in ourselves is before union with others. To conclude this fii'st part, concerning intercourse with ourselves. As we desire to enjoy ourselves, and to live the life of men and of Christians, which is, to understand our ways ; as we desire to live comfortably, and not to be accessory of yielding to that sorrow which causeth death ; as we desire to answer God and ourselves, when we are to give an account of the inward tumults of our souls ; as we desire to be vessels prepared for every good work, and to have strength to undergo any cross ; as we desire to have healthy souls, and to keep a sabbath within ourselves ; as we desire not only to do good, but to be good in ourselves : so let us labour to quiet our souls, and often ask a reason of oui'selves, why we should not be quiet ? Chapter X. — Means not to be overcharged with sorrow. To help us further herein, besides that which hath been formerly spoken, 1. We must take heed of huildbuj an ungrounded conjidence of happiness THE soul's conflict. 163 Jot time to come, which makes us when changes come, 1, Unacquainted with them ; 2, Takes away expectation of them ; 3, And preparation for them. When any thing is strange and sudden, and hghts upon us unfurnished and unfenced, it must needs put our spirits out of frame. It is good therefore to make all kind of troubles familiar to us, in our thoughts at least, and this will break the force of them. It is good to fence our souls beforehand against all assaults, as men use to keep out the sea, by raising banks ; and if a breach be made, to repair it presently. We had need to maintain a strong garrison of holy reasons against the assaults of strong passions ; we may hope for the best, but fear the worst, and prepare to bear whatsoever. We say that a set diet is dangerous, because variety of occasions will force us upon breaking of it ; so in this world of changes we cannot resolve upon any certain condition of life, for upon alteration the mind is out of frame. We cannot say this or that trouble shall not befall ; yet we may, by help of the Spirit, say, nothing that doth befall shall make me do that which is unworthy of a Christian. That which others make easy by suffering, that a wise man maketh easy by thinking of beforehand. Quoi alii diu patiendo levia faciunt, sapiens levia facit diu cogitando. If we expect the worst, when it comes, it is no more than we thought of; if better befalls us, then it is the sweeter to us, the less we expected it. Our Saviour foretells the worst, * In the world you shall have tribulation,' John xvi. 33 ; therefore look for it ; but then He will not leave us. Satan deludes with fair promises ; but when the contrary falls out, he leaves his followers in their distresses. We desire peace and rest, but we seek it not in its own place ; ' there is a rest for God's people,' Heb. iv. 9, but that is not here, nor yet ; but it remains for them ; ' they rest from their labours,' Rev. xiv. 13, but that is after they ' are dead in the Lord.' There is no sound rest till then. Yet this caution must be remembered, that we shape not in oui* fancies such troubles as are never likely to fall out. It comes either from weakness or guiltiness, to fear shadows. We shall not need to make crosses ; they will, as we say of foul weather, come before they be sent for. How many evils do people fear, from which they have no further hurt than what is bred only by their cause- less fears ! Nor yet, if they be probable, must we think of them so as to be altogether so aflfected, as if undoubtedly they would come, for so we give certain strength to an uncertain cross, and usurp upon God, by anticipat- ing that which may never come to pass. It w^as rashness in David to say, 'I shall one day perish by the hand of Saul,' 1 Sam. xxvii. 1. If they be such troubles as will certainly come to pass, as parting with friends and contentments, at least, by death ; then, 1. Think of them so as not to be much dismayed, but furnish thy heart with strength beforehand, that they may fall the hghter. 2. Think of them so as not to give up the bucklers to passion, and lie open as a fair mark for any uncomfortable acci- dent to strike to the heart ; nor yet so think of them as to despise them, but to consider of God's meaning in them, and how to take good by them. 8. Think of the things we enjoy, so as to moderate our enjoying of them, by considering there must be a parting, and therefore how we shall be able to bear it when it comes. 2. If we desire not to be overcharged with sorrow when that which we fear is fallen upon us, we must then beforehand look that our love to any thing in this world shoot not so far as that, when the time of severing cometh, we part with so much of our hearts by that rent. Those that love too much wiU always grieve too much. It is the greatness of our affections which caufteth 164 THE soul's conflict. the sharpness of our afflictions. He that cannot abound without pride and high-mindedness, will not want without too much dejectedness. Love is planted for such things as can return love, and make us better by loving them ; wherein we shall satisfy our love to the full. It is pity so sweet an affection should be lost. So sorrow is for sin, and for other things, as they make sin the more bitter to us. The life of a Christian should be a medi- tation how to unloose his affections from inferior things. He will easily die that is dead before in affection. But this will never be, unless the soul seeth something better than all things in the world, upon which it may bestow itself. In that measure our affections die in their excessive motion to things below, as they are taken up with the love and admiration of the best things. He that is much in heaven in his thoughts is free from being tossed with tempests here below. The top of those mountains that are above the middle region are so quiet as that the lightest things, as ashes, lie still, and are not moved. The way to mortify earthly members, that bestir themselves in us, is to mind things above. Col. iii. 1, 5. The more the ways of wisdom lead us on high, the more we avoid the snares below. In the uncertainty of aU events here, labour to frame that contentment in and from our own selves which the things themselves will not yield ; frame peace by freeing our hearts from too much fear, and riches by free- ing our hearts from covetous desires. Frame a sufficiency out of content- edness. If the soul itself be out of tune, outward things will do no more good than a fair shoe to a gouty foot. And seek not ourselves abroad out of ourselves in the conceits of other men. A man shall never live quietly that hath not learned to be set hght- by of others. He that is little in his own eyes will not be troubled to be little in the eyes of others. Men that set too high a price upon themselves, when others will not come to their price, are discontent. Those whose condition is above their worth, and their pride above their condition, shall never want sorrow ; yet we must maintain our authority, and the image of God in our places, for that is God's and not ours ; and we ought so to carry ourselves as we approve ourselves to their consciences, though we have not their good words. ' Let none despise thy youth,' saith St Paul to Timothy, 1 Tim. iv. 12 — that is, walk so before them as they shall have no cause. It is not in our own power what other men think or speak, but it is in our power, by God's grace, to live so that none can think ill of us, but by slandering, and none believe ill but by too much credulity. 3. "When anything seizeth upon us, we must take heed we mingle not our own passions ivith it ; we must neither bring sin to, nor mingle sin with, the suffering ; for that will trouble the spirit more than the trouble itself. We are more to deal with our own hearts than with the trouble itself. We are not hurt till our souls be hurt. God will not have it in the power of any creature to hurt our souls, but by our own treason against ourselves. Therefore we should have our hearts in continual jealousy, for they are ready to deceive the best. In sudden encounters some sin doth many times discover itself, the seed whereof lieth hid in our natures, which we think ourselves very free from. Who would have thought the seeds of murmuring had lurked in the meek nature of Moses ? that the seeds of murder had lurked in the pitiful heart of David ? 2 Sam. xii. 9, that the seeds of denial of Christ, Matt. xxvi. 72, had lien hid in the zealous affec- tion of Peter towards Christ ? If passions break out from us, which we are not naturally inclined iinto, and over which by grace we have got a great conquest, how watchful need we be over ourselves in those things, THE soul's conflict. 165 wliich, by temper, custom, and company we are carried unto ! and what cause have we to fear continually that we are worse than we take ourselves to be ! There ax'e many unruly passions he hid in us, until they be drawn out by something that meeteth with them ; either — (1.) By icay of opposition, as when the truth of God spiritually un- folded meets with some beloved corruption, it swelleth bigger. The force of gunpowder is not knowTi until some spark light on it ; and oftentimes the stillest natures, if crossed, discover the deepest corruptions. Some- times it is drawn out by dealing with the opposite spirits of other men. Oftentimes retired men know not what lies hid in themselves. (2.) Sometimes by crosses, as many people, whilst the freshness and vigour of their spirits lasteth, and while the flower of age, and a full supply of all things continueth, seem to be of a pleasing and cahn disposition ; but afterwards, when changes come, like Job's \nh, they are discovered, Job ii. 9. Then that which in nature is unsubdued, openly appears. tk (3.) Temptations likewise have a searching j)Oiver to bring that to light in us which was hidden before. Satan hath been a mnnower and a sifter of old, Luke xsii. 3. He thought if Job had been but touched in his body, he would have cursed God to his face, Job i. Some men, out of policy, conceal their passion until they see some ad- vantage to let it out, as Esau smothered his hatred until his father's death. Aperta perdunt odia vindictce locum. When the restraint is taken away, men, as we say, shew themselves in their pure naturals. Unloose a tiger or a lion, and you know what he is. Solve leonem et seniles. (4.) Fui'ther, let its see more evenj day into the state of our own souls. "What a shame is it that so nimble and swift a spirit as the soul is, that can mount up to heaven, and from thence come down into the earth in an instant, should, whilst it looks over all other things, overlook itself! that it should be skilful in the story abnost of all times and places, and yet igno- rant of the stoiy of itself ! that we should know what is done in the com*t and country, and beyond the seas, and be ignorant of what is done at home in our own hearts ! that we should live kuo'mi to others, and 3-et die un- known to ourselves ! that we should be able to give account of anything better than of ourselves to ourselves ! This is the cause wh}^ we stand in our own light, why we think better of ourselves than others, and better than is cause ; this is that which hindereth all reformation, for how can we reform that which we are not willing tp see, and so we lose one of the surest evidences of our sincerity, which is, a willingness to search into our hearts, and to be searched by others. A sincere heart will ofler itself to trial. And therefore let us sift our actions, and our passions, and see what is flesh in them, and what is spirit, and so separate the precious from the vile. It is good likewise to consider what sin we were guilty of before, which moved God to give us up to excess in any passion, and wherein we have grieved his Spirit. Passion wiU be more moderate when thus it knows it must come to the trial and censure. This course wdll either make us weary of passion, or else passion will make us weary of this strict com-se. We shall find it the safest way to give our hearts no rest tiU we have ■wrought on them to purpose, and gotten the mastery over them. When the soul is inured to this dealing with itself, it will leam the skUl to command, and passions will be soon commanded, as being inured to be examined and checked ; as we see dogs, and such like domestical creatures, that will not regard a stranger, yet will be quieted in brawls presently by the voice of their master, to which they are accustomed. This fits us for 166 THE SOUL S CONFLICT. service. Unbroken spirits are like unbroken horses, unfit for any use until they be thoroughly subdued. (5.) And it were best to prevent, as much as in us lieth, the very first risings, before the soul be overcast. Passions are but httle motions at the first, but grow as rivers do, greater and greater, the farther they are carried from their spring. The first risings are the more to be looked unto, be- cause there is most danger in them, and we have least care over them. Sin, like rust, or a canker, will by little and little eat out all the graces of the soul. There is no staying when we are once down the hill, till we come to the bottom. No sin but is easier kept out than driven out. If we can- not prevent wicked thoughts, yet we may deny them lodging in our hearts. It is our giving willing entertainment to sinful motions that increaseth guilt, and hindereth our peace. It is that which moveth God to give us up to a further degree of evil aflections. Therefore what we are afraid to do before men, we should be afraid to think before God. It would much farther our peace to keep our judgments clear, as being the eye of the soul, whereby we may discern in every action and passion what is good and what is evil ; as likewise to preserve tenderness of heart, that may check us at the first, and not brook the least evil being discovered. When the heart begins once to be kindled, it is easy to smother the smoke of passion, which otherwise will fume up into the head, and gather into so thick a cloud as we shall lose the sight of ourselves, and what is best to be done. And therefore David here labours to take up his heart at the first ; his care was to crush the very first insurrections of his soul, before they came to break forth into open rebel- lion. Storms we know rise out of little gusts. Little risings neglected cover the soul before we are aware. If we would check these risings, and stifle them in their birth, they would not break out afterwards to the re- proach of religion, to the scandal of the weak, to the ofience of the strong, to the grief of God's Spirit in us, to the disturbance of our own spirits in doing good, and to the disheartening of us in troubling of our inward peace, and thereby weakening our assurance. Therefore let us stop beginnings as much as may be ; and so soon as they begin to rise, let us begin to exa- mine what raised them, and whither they are about to carry us, Ps. iv. 4. The way to be still is to examine ourselves first, and then censure what stands not with reason. As David doth, when he had given way to unbe- fitting thoughts of God's providence, ' So fooUsh,' saith he, ' was I, and as a beast before thee,' Ps. Ixxiii. 22. % Especially then, look to these sinful stirrings when thou art to deal with God. I am to have communion with a God of peace, what then do turbulent thoughts and aflections in my heart ? I am to deal with a patient God, why should I cherish revengeful thoughts ? Abraham drove away the birds fi'om the sacrifice. Gen. xv. 11. Troublesome thoughts, like birds, will come before they be sent for, but they should find entertainment accordingly. (6.) In all our grievance let us look to something that may comfort tis, as ivell as discourage ; look to that we enjoy, as well as that we want. As in prosperity God mingles some crosses to diet us, so in all crosses there is something to comfort us. As there is a vanity lies hid in the best worldly good, so there is a blessing lies hid in the worst worldly evil. God usually maketh up that with some advantage in another kind, wherein wo are inferior to others. Others are in greater place, so they are in greater danger. Others be richer, so their cares and snares be greater : the poor in the world may be richer in faith than they, James ii. 5. The soul can better digest and master a low estate than a prosperous, and THE SOUL S CONFLICT. 167 tincler some abasement, it is in a less distance from God. Others are not so afflicted as we, then they have less experience of God's gracious power than we. Others may have more healthy bodies, but souls less weaned from the world. We would not change conditions with them, so as to have their spmts with their condition. For one half of our Uves, the meanest are as happy and free from cares, as the greatest monarch, that is, while both sleep ; and usually the sleep of the one is sweeter than the sleep of the other. What is all that the earth can afford us, if God deny health ? and this a man in the meanest condition may enjoy. That wherein one man diflers from another, is but title, and but for a little time ; death levelleth all. There is scarce any man, but the good ho receives from God is more than the ill he feels, if our unthankful hearts would suffer us to think so. Is not our health more than our sickness ? do we not enjoy more than we want, I mean, of the things that are necessary ? are not our good days more than our evil ? but we would go to heaven upon roses, and usually one cross is more taken to heart, than a hundred blessings. So unkindly we deal with God. Is God indebted to us ? doth he owe us any thing ? those that deserve nothing, should be content with any thing. We should look to others as good as ourselves, as well as to ourselves, and then we shall see it is not our own case only. Who are we that we should look for an exempted condition from those troubles which God's dearest children are addicted unto ? Thus when we are surprised contrary to our looking for and liking, we should study rather how to exercise some grace, than give way to any passion. Think, now is a time to exercise our patience, our wisdom, and other graces. By this means we shall turn that to our greatest advantage, which Satan intendeth greatest hurt to us by. Thus we shall not only master every condition, but make it serviceable to our good. If nature teach bees, not only to gather honey out of sweet flowers, but out of bitter, shall not grace teach us to draw even out of the bitterest condition some- thing to better our souls ? we learn to tame all creatures, even the wildest, that we may bring them to our use : and why should we give way to our own unruly passions ? (7.) It were good to have in our eye the beauty of a u-ell-ordered soul, and we should think that nothing in this world is of sufficient worth to put us out of frame. The sanctified soul should be like the sun in this, which though it worketh upon all these inferior bodies, and cherisheth them by light and influence, yet is not moved nor wrought upon by them again, but keepeth its own lustre and distance ; so our spirits, being of a heavenly breed, should rule other things beneath them, and not be ruled by them. It is a holy state of soul to be under the power of nothing beneath itself. Are we stirred ? then consider, is this matter worth the loss of my quiet ? What we esteem, that we love ; what we love, we labour for ; and there- fore let us esteem highly of a clear, calm temper, whereby we both enjoy our God and ourselves, and Imow how to rank all things else. It is against nature for inferior things to rule that which the wise Disposer of all things hath set above them. We owe the flesh neither suit nor service ; we are no debtors to it. The more we set before the soul that quiet estate in heaven which the souls of perfect men now enjoy, and itself ere long shall enjoy there, the more it will be in love with it, and endeavour to attain unto it. And because the soul never worketh better, than when it is raised up by some 168 THE soul's conflict. strong and sweet affection — anima nunquam melius ar/it, quam ex imperio alicujics insignis ajfectus — let us look upon our nature, as it is in Christ, in ■whom it is pure, sweet, calm, meek, every way lovely. This sight is a changing sight ; love is an affection of imitation ; we affect a likeness to him we love. Let us * learn of Christ to be humble and meek,' and then we * shall find rest to our souls,' Mat. xi. 29. The setting of an excellent idea and platform before us, mil raise and draw up our souls higher, and make us sensible of the least moving of spirit, that shall be contrary to that, the attainment whereof we have in our desires. He will hardly attain to mean things, that sets not befoi-e him higher perfection. Naturally we love to see symmetry and proportion, even in a dead picture, and are much taken with some curious piece. But why should we not rather labour to keep the affections of the soul in due proportion ? seeing a meek and well ordered soul is not only lovely in the sight of men and angels, but is much set by, by the great God himself. But now the greatest care of those that set highest price upon themselves is, how to compose their outward carriage in some graceful manner, never studying how to compose their spirits ; and rather how to cover the deformity of their passions than to cure them. Whence it is that the foulest inward vices are covered with the fairest vizards, and to make this the worse, all this is counted the best breeding. The Hebrews placed all their happiness in peace, and when they would comprise much in one word, they would wish peace. This was that the angels brought news of fi-om heaven, at the birth of Christ, Luke ii. 14. Now peace riseth out of quietness and order, and God that is ' the God of peace, is the God of order' first, 1 Cor. xiv. 33. "What is health, but when all the members are in their due positure,* and all the humours in a settled quiet ? Whence ariseth the beauty of the world, but from that comely order wherein every creatm'e is placed ; the more glorious and excellent creatures above, and the less below ? So it is in the soul ; the best constitution of it is when by the Spirit of God it is so ordered, as that all be in subjection to the law of the mind. What a sight were it for the feet to be where the head is, and the earth to be where the heaven is, to see all turned upside down ? And to a spiritual eye it seems as gi'eat a deformity, to see the soul to be under the rule of sinful passions. Comeliness riseth out of the fit proportion of divers members to make up one body, when every member hath a beauty in itself, and is likewise well suited to other parts. A fair face and a crooked body, comely upper parts, and the lower parts uncomely, suit not well ; because comeliness stands in oneness, in a fit agreement of many parts to one. When there is the head of a man, and the body of a beast, it is a monster in nature ; and is it not as monstrous for to have an understanding head, and a fierce untamed heart ? It cannot but raise up a holy indignation in us against these risings, when we consider how unbeseeming they are. What do these base passions in a heart dedicated to God, and given up to the government of his Spirit ? what an indignity is it for princes to go afoot, and servants on horseback ? for those to rule, whose place is to be ruled ? as being good attendants, but bad guides. It was Ham's curse to be a ' servant of servants,' Gen. ix. 25. (8.) This must be strengthened with a strong self-denial, without which there can be no good done in religion. There be two things that most trouble us in the way to heaven, corrup- tion within us, and the cross without us : that which is within us must be denied, that that which is without us may be endured. Otherwise we * That is, ' position.' — Ed. THE SOUL S CONFLICT. 1C9 cannot follow him by whom we look to be saved. The gate, the entrance of religion, is narrow ; we must strip ourselves of ourselves before we can enter ; if we bring any ruling lust to religion, it will prove a bitter root of some gross sia, or of apostasy and final desperation. Those that sought the praise of men more than the praise of God, John xii. 43, could not believe, because that lust of ambition would, when it should be crossed, di-aw them away. The young man thought it better for Christ to lose a disciple than that he should lose his possession, and there- fore went away as he came, Mat. xix. 22. The ' third ground,' Mat. xiii. 25, came to nothing ; because the plough had not gone deep enough to break up the roots, whereby their hearts were fastened to earthly contentments. This self-denial we must carry with us through all the parts of religion, both in our active and passive obedience ; for in obedience there must be a subjection to a superior ; but corrupt self neither is subject, nor can be, Rom. viii. 7. It will have an oar in everything, and maketh everything, yea, religion, serviceable to itself. It is the idol of the world, or rather the god that is set highest of all in the soul ; and so God himself is made but an idol. It is hard to deny a friend who is another self, harder to deny a wife that heth in the bosom, but most hard to deny ourselves. Nothing so near us as ourselves to ourselves, and yet nothing so far off. Nothing so dear, and yet nothing so malicious and troublesome. Hypo- crites would part with the fruit of then* body, Mic. vi. 7, sooner than the sin of their souls. Chapter XI. — Signs of victory over ourselves, and of a subdued spirit. Quest. But how shall we knoiv ivhether ive have by grace got the victory over ourselves or not ? Ans. I answer, 1. If in good actions ive stand not so much upon the credit of the action as upon the good that is done. What we do as unto God, we look for acceptance from God. It was Jonah his fault to stand more upon his own reputation than the glory of God's mercy. It is a prevailing sign when, though there be no outward encouragements, nay, though there be discouragements, yet we can rest in the comfort of a good intention. For usually inward comfort is a note of inward sincerity. Jehu must be seen, or else all is lost, 2 Engs x. 16. 2. It is a good evidence of some prevaihng when, xipon religious grounds, we can cross ourselves in those tilings unto ivhich our liearts stand most affected. This sheweth we reserve God his own place in om- hearts. 3. When, being privy to our own inclination and temper, we have gotten such a supply of Spirit as that the grace idiich is contra)-y to our temper appears in us. As oft we see none more patient than those that are natm-ally inclined to intemperancy of passion, because natm-al proneness makes them jealous over themselves. Some, out of fear of being over- much moved, are not moved so much as they should be. This jealousy stirreth us up to a careful use of aU helps. Where grace is helped by nature, there a httle gi-ace will go far ; but where there is much untoward- ness of nature, there much grace is not so well discerned. Sour wines need much sweetening. And that is most sphitual which hath least help jfrom nature, and is won by prayer and pains. 4. When we are not partial ivhen the things concern ourselves. David could allow himself another man's wife, and yet judgeth another man 170 THE soul's conflict. worthy of death for taking away a poor man's lamb, 2 Sam. xii. 4. Men usually favour themselves too much when they are chancellors in their own cause, and measure all things by their private interest. He hath taken a good degree in Christ's school that hath learned to forget himself here. 6. It is a good sign when, upon discovery of self-seeking, we can (jain upon our corruption; and are willing to search and to be searched, what our inclination is, and where it faileth. That which we favour we are tender of, it must not be touched. A good heart, when any corruption is discovered by a searching ministry, is affected as if it had found out a deadly enemy. Touchiness and passion argues guilt. 6. This is a sign of a man's victory over himself, when he loves health and peace of body and mind, with a supply of all needful things, chiefly for this end, that he may with more freedom of spirit serve God in doing good to others. So soon as grace entereth into the heart, it frameth the heart to be in some measure public ; and thinks it hath not its end in the bare enjoying of anything, until it can improve what it hath for a further end. Thus to seek ourselves is to deny ourselves, and thus to deny ourselves is truly to seek ourselves. It is no self-seeking when we care for no more than that, without which we cannot comfortably serve God. When the soul can say unto God, Lord, as thou wouldst have me serve thee in my place, so grant me such a measure of health and strength, wherein I may serve thee. Object. But what if God thinks it good that I shall serve him in weakness, and in want and suffering ? Ans. Then it is a comfortable sign of gaining over our own wills, when we can yield ourselves to be disposed of by God, as knowing best what is good for us. There is no condition but therein we may exercise some grace, and honour God in some measure. Yet because some enlargement of condition is ordinarily that estate wherein we are best able to do good in, we may in the use of means desire it, and upon that resign up our- selves wholly unto God, and make his will our will, without exception or reservation, and care for nothing more than we can have with his leave and love. This Job had exercised his heart unto; whereupon in that great change of condition he sinned not, Job ii. 10 ; that is, fell not into the sins incident to that dejected and miserable state ; into sins of rebellion and dis- content. He carried his crosses comely, with that staidness and resigned- ness which became a holy man. 7. It is further a clear evidence of a spirit subdued, when we will discover the truth of our affection towards God and his people, though with censure of others. David was content to endure the censure of neglecting the state and majesty of a king, out of joy for settling the ark, 2 Sam. vi. 22. Nehemiah could not dissemble his grief for the ruins of the chiwch, though in the king's presence, Neh. ii. 3. It is a comfortable sign of the wasting of self-love, when we can be at a point what becomes of ourselves, so it go well with the cause of God and the church. Now the way to prevail still more over ourselves, as when we are to do or suffer anything, or withstand any person in a good cause, &c., is, not to think that we are to deal with men, yea, or with devils, so much as with ourselves. The saints resisted their enemies to death, by resisting their own coiTuptions first. If we once get the victory over ourselves, aU other things are conquered to our ease. All the hurt Satan and the world do us, is by correspondency with ourselves. All things are so far under us, as wc are above ourselves. Te vince, et mundus tihi victus est, &c. THE soul's conflict. 171 For the further subduing of ourselves, it is good to follow sin to the first hold and castle, which is corrupt nature ; the streams will lead us to the spring head. Indeed, the most apparent discovery of sin is in the outward carriage ; we see it in the fruit before in the root, as we see grace in the expression before in the affection. But yet we shall never hate sin thoroughly until we consider it in the poisoned root from whence it ariseth. That which least troubles a natural man doth most of all trouble a true Christian. A natural man is sometimes troubled with the fniit of his cor- ruption, and the consequents of guilt and punishment that attend it ; but a true-hearted Christian with corruption itself. This drives him to complain, with St Paul, * wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me,' not from the members only, but ' from this body of death ?' Rom. vii. 24, which is as noisome to my soul as a dead carrion is to my senses, which, together with the members, is marvellously nimble and active, and hath no days, or hours, or minutes of rest ; always laying about it to enlarge itself, and like spring water, which, the more it issueth out, the more it may. It is a good way, upon any particular breach of our inward peace, pre- sently to have recourse to that which breeds and foments all our disquiet. Lord ! what do I complain of this my unruly passion ? 1 carry a nature about me subject to break out continually upon any occasion. Lord! strike at the root, and dry up the fountain in me. Thus David doth arise from the guilt of those two foul sins of murder and adultery, Ps. li. 5, to the sin of his nature, the root itself; as if he should say, Lord, it is not these actual sins that defile me only, but if I look back to my first concep- tion, I was tainted in the spring of my nature. This is that which put David's soul so much out of frame ; for from whence was this contradiction ? and whence was this contradiction so un- wearied in making head again and again against the checks of the Spirit in him ? Whence was it that corruption would not be said nay ? Whence were these sudden and unlooked for objections of the flesh ? but from the remainder of old Adam in him, which, Uke a Michal within us, is either scoffing at the ways of God, or, as a Job's wife, fretting and thwarting the motions of God's Spirit in us ; which prevails the more because it is home- bred in us, whereas holy motions are strangers to most of our souls. Cor- ruption is loath that a new comer-in should take so much upon him as to control, as the Sodomites thought much that Lot, being a stranger, should intermeddle amongst them. Gen. xix. 9. If God once leave us, as he did Hezekiah, to try what is in us, what should we find but darkness, rebellion, unruliness, doubtings, &c., in the best of us. This flesh of ours hath prin- ciples against all God's principles, and laws against all God's laws, and reasons against all God's reasons. Oh, if we could but one whole hour seriously think of the impure issue of our hearts, it would bring us dovsTi upon our knees in humiliation before God ! But we can never whilst we live, so thoroughly as we should, see into the depth of our deceitful hearts, nor yet be humbled enough for what we see ; for though we speak of it and confess it, yet we are not so sharpened against this corrupt flesh of ours as we should. How should it humble us that the seeds of the \'ilest sin, even of the sin against the Holy Ghost, is in us ? And no thank to us that they break not out. It should humble us to hear of any great enormous sin in another man, considering what our o^ti natui-e would proceed unto if it were not restrained (c). We may see our own natm-e in them as face answering face, Prov. xxvii. 19. If God should take his Spirit from us, there is enough in us to defile a whole world ; and although we be ingrafted 172 THE soul's conflict. into Christ, yet we carry about us a relish of the old stock still. David was a man of a good natural constitution, and, for grace, a man after God's own heart, and had got the better of himself in a great measure, and had learned to overcome himself in matter of revenge, as in Saul's case, 1 Sam. xxiv. 6 ; yet now we see the vessel is shaken a little, and the dregs appear that were in the bottom before. Alas ! we Imow not our own hearts till we plough with God's heifer, till his Spirit bringeth a light into our souls. It is good to consider how this impure spring breaks out diversely in the diverse conditions we ai'e in. There is no estate of life, nor no action we undertake, wherein it will not put forth itself to defile us ; it is so full of poison that it taints whatsoever we do, both our natures, conditions, and actions. In a prosperous condition, like David, we think we shall never be moved, Ps. xxx. 6. Under the cross the soul is troubled, and drawn to murmur, and to be sullen, and sink down in discouragement, to be in a heat almost to blasphemy, to be weary of our callings, and to quarrel with everything in our way. See the folly and fury of most men in this, for us silly worms to contradict the great God. And to whose peril is it ? Is it not our o-ffn ? Let us gather ourselves with all our wit and strength to- gether ; alas ! what can we do but provoke him, and get more stripes ? We may be sure he will deal with us as we deal with our children. If they be froward and unquiet for lesser matters, we will make them cry and be sullen for something. Refractory, stubborn horses are the more spurred, and yet shake not off the rider. Chapter XII. — Of original rightcoiis7iess, natural corruption, Satan's joining with it, and our duty thereupon. Object. § I. But here mark a plot of spiritual treason. Satan, joining with our corruption, setteth the wit on work to persuade the soul that this inward rebellion is not so bad, because it is natural to us, as a condition of nature rising out of the first principles in our creation, and was curbed in by the bridle of original righteousness, which they would have accessary and supernatural, and therefore allege that concupiscence is less odious and more excusable in us, and so no great danger in yielding and betraying our souls unto it, and by that means persuading us that that which is our dead- liest enemy hath no harm in it, nor meaneth any to us.-- Ans. This rebellion of lusts against the understanding is not natural, as our nature came out of God's hands at the first, Gen. i. 27 ; for this, being evil and the cause of evil, could not come from God, who is good and the cause of all good, and nothing but good, who, upon the creation of all things, pronounced them good, and, after the creation of man, pronounced of all things that they were very good, ver. 31. Now, that which is ill and very ill cannot be seated at the same time in that which is good and very good. God created man at the first right ; he of himself ' sought out many inventions,' Eccles. vii. 29. As God beautified the heaven with stars, and decked the earth with variety of plants, and herbs, and flowers, so he adorned man, his prime creature hero below, with all those endowments that were fit for a happy condition ; and original righteousness was fit and due * Most of tho most dangerous opinions of popory, as justification liy works, state of perfection, merit, satisfaction, supererogation, &c., spring from hence, that they have slight conceits of concupisc(;nco as a condition of nature. Yet some of them, as Michael Bayns, professor at Louvain, &c., arc sound in the point. THE SOUL S CONFLICT. 173 to an original and happy condition. Therefore, as the angels were created with all angelical perfections, and as our bodies were created in an absolute temper of all the humours, so the soul was created in that sweet harmony wherein there was no discord, as an instrument in tune, fit to be moved to any duty ; as a clean, neat glass, the soul represented God's image and holiness, § II. Therefore it is so far, that concupiscence should be natural, that the contrary to it, namely, righteousness, wherein Adam was created, was natural to him ; though it were planted in man's nature by God, and so in regard of the cause of it, was supernatural ; yet because it was agi'eeable to that happy condition, without which he could not subsist, in that respect it was natural, and should have been derived, if he had stood, together with his nature, to his posterity. As heat in the air, though it hath its first impression from the heat of the sun, yet is natm-al, because it agreeth to the nature of that element ; and though man be compounded of a spiritual and earthly substance, yet it is natural that the baser earthly part should be subject to the superior, because where there is difi'erent degrees of worthi- ness, it is fit there should be a subordination of the meaner to that which is in order higher. The body naturally desnes food and bodily content- ments, yet in a man endued with reason, this desire is governed so as it becomes not inordinate. A beast sins not in its appetite, because it hath no power above to order it. A man that lives in a solitary place, far remote from company, may take his liberty to live as it pleaseth him ; but if he comes to live under the government of some well-ordered city, then he is bound to submit to the laws and customs of that city, under penalty upon any breach of order ; so the risings of the soul, howsoever in other creatures they are not blameable, having no commander in themselves, above them, yet in man they are to be ordered by reason and judgment. Therefore it cannot be, that concupiscence should be natm'al, in regard of the state of creation. It was Adam's sin ; which had many sins in the womb of it, that brought this disorder upon the soul. Adam's person first corrupted our nature, and nature being corrupted, corrupts our persons, and our persons being corrupted, increase the corruption of our nature, by custom of sinning, which is another nature in us. As a stream, the farther it runs from the spring head, the more it enlargeth its channel, by the running of lesser rivers into it, until it empties itself into the sea ; so cor- ruption, till it be overpowered by grace, swelleth bigger and bigger, so that though this disorder was not natural, in regard of the first creation, yet since the fall it has become natural, even as we call that which is common to the whole kind, and pi^opagated from parents to their childi-en, to be natural ; so that it is both natural and against nature, natural now, but against nature in its first perfection. And because corruption is natural to us, therefore, 1, We delight in it ; wll^ce it comes to pass, that om: souls are carried along in an easy current, to the committing of any sin without opposition. 2. Because it is natural, therefore it is unwearied and restless, as light bodies are not wearied iti their •motion upwards, nor heavy bodies in their motion downwards, nor a stream in its running to the sea, because it is natural : hence it is that the ' old man,' Eph. iv. 22, is never tired in the ' works of the flesh,' Gal. v. 19, nor never drawn dry. When men cannot act sin, yet they will love sin, and act it over again by pleasing thoughts of it, and by sinful speculations suck out the delight of sin ; and are grieved, not for their sin, but because they want strength and •opportunity to commit it ; if sin would not leave tbem, they would never leave 174 THE soul's conflict. sin. This corruption of our nature is not wrought in us by reason and per- suasions, for then it might be satisfied with reasons, but it is in us by way of a natural inchnation, as iron is carried to the loadstone ; and till our natures be altered, no reason will long prevail, but our sinful disposition, as a stream stopped for a little while, will break out with greater violence. 3. Being natural, it needs no help, as the earth needs no tillage to bring forth weeds. When our corrupt nature is carried contrary to that which is good, it is carried of itself, as when Satan lies or murders, it comes from his own cursed nature ; and though Satan joineth with oui* corrupt nature, yet the proneness to sin, and the consent unto it, is of ourselves. Qmst. § III. But how shall we know that Satan joins with our nature, in those actions unto which nature itself is prone ? Ans. Then Satan adds his help, when our nature is carried more eagerly than ordinary to sin ; as when a stream runs violently, we may know that there is not only the tide, but the wind that carrieth it. So in sudden and violent rebellions, it is Satan that pusheth on nature left to itself of God. A stone falls downwards by its own weight, but if it falls very swiftly, we know it is thrown down by an outward mover. Though there were no devil, yet our corrupt nature would act Satan's part against itself ; it would have a supply of wickedness, as a serpent doth poison, from itself, it hath a spring to feed it. Nemo se palpet de suo, Satan est,